Learning Curves


After doing cam work, the graduating stop on that road of deviation was sugar daddy dating. Cams holds a wide range of audience but mainly 20-30 somethings. Guys tend to get bored and eventually mosey onto bigger thrills in the late 30’s to mid 40’s. Typically once they reach that level they stay innocent enough and just create fantasy stories for attention until that wears thin and they finally make the plunge.

I did that type of “work” and research for about 2 years after the 2 years of cam modeling. I’ll have lots of insights of the realities and the perspective of the sugar baby but this story came to mind today out of nowhere so I thought I’d share because it’s one of the funny ones and hopefully helpful in anyones otherwise potentially misguided future.

This guy in particular is a lawyer here in Austin, mid-late forties, not really attractive but not what you could call ugly. Typically every “sugar daddy” has his check list and they’re usually all the same or pretty close. One of the major listings is anal but usually only asked on the 3rd or 4th date when it’s a really white-washed guy, which was the case with this guy, although he was “native american”, any race can be “white washed” into “buying crap” because all races are equal…duh.

So I went on about 7 dates with this guy over the course of a few months. He took me to dinner once and we went dancing one night but all in all pretty typical meet ups and expectations. I wasn’t interested in him or have a good time because I was with him but it was easy enough, nothing really unpleasant and didn’t take up much of my time. I’m not easily phased by sex and the body and I’m not the type to do things solely for money or allow money to change my soul path in this world so as a yoga teacher I’m quick to offer up advice or critique unlike most sugar babies who’ll keep quiet to cash out (cam girls are models, sugar babies are actresses). He usually took advice and suggestion well but, of course, it would catch him off guard. We made it through most of his little boy christmas checklist (mostly just the dancing date, basic position requests and oral tricks) and finally ended up with the big one left.

The last night we got together he showed up with an enema kit and cargo straps you would use for strapping cargo. The enema was because he wanted to do anal that night and like most white-washed guys is scared of a little poo showing up (which wouldn’t be much of a problem if they kept up with their duties…lol duties), probably never changed a diaper in his life. I informed this intelligent lawyer that enemas take a while to take clear things out and if he wanted me to use that I would be watery-shitting on him for the next hour so I would need advance warning on this request.

He was a little disappointed but moved onto his next idea, using the straps to tie me to the bed. Word of advice guys, if its not comfortable against your male skin, it won’t be comfortable against our female skin (FYI – it’s made of the same stuff). I find it hilarious when these men try so hard to come off as in control and have no knowledge on the subject….they are all fantasy and no logistics…I could go into a political or programming addiction rant in that breath, however, let’s just appreciate the awkwardness of the reality these men are facing in their narcissism, ironically enough. I could have pretended like any other well behaved but control hungry sugar baby would and gone along to keep the easy money but I couldn’t take myself seriously and let grown men run around thinking they look cool while being laughed at on my watch – that’s just mean or my own narcissism ;). So I tried to politely tell him that I had scarves that would work better for the situation (this was before I got the hog ties) but at this point i think his ego was blown along with the idea, not enough to keep the date from ending early but enough to scare him off and back to searching someone less experienced or more willing to humor a indistinguishably “disabled” man with prompted and well rehearsed moans.

My question would be to the men, how would you tell a woman how to handle a situation like that without hurting the man’s ego? Not that I want to admit that these situations are how most men learn about “sex” (or try to) rather than being open and intimate enough to be organically experimental with a partner, especially one they would marry and trust their life to instead of going to strangers in order to feel like a man because they can more easily believe those women think certain ways about them since they are detached. Maybe the point is to show that the alternative to real connection is never what you think it will pan out to be and hopefully give a broader range to paths you take to thinking a situation through in reality vs. controlled movie-style production. Not just with how it plays out but why it’s structured the way it is in your mind in certain circumstances.


dem pickles

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dude: Hope you are having a good night! Do you run a cam show? Trying to figure out your videos.

me: i used to do cam work from like 2012-14 but not anymore – i just learned some from the counseling i’d do in free chat. mostly that
learning should be fun 🙂

dude: That’s very cool. Sure you learned a lot to help men doing it.
Learning should be fun. Totally agree 🙂

me: it was eye opening – there’s a lot that men hold back in real life compared to being anonymous on cams – so i want to address some of that and help them “come out” so to speak 😉

dude: We need all the help we can get. We do hold back and need to feel safe that we can express ourselves in certain ways sexually.

me: yes, 🙂everyone deserves that – i don’t think men get that consideration as much as women on the whole

dude: Totally agree.
And then we seek it out elsewhere so we can explore what is not safe to explore at home.

me: i do work with women also – i’m not trying to pick on the guys at all – i’m just as direct with the ladies – if not more so because i know what i expect of myself
yeah – you have to remain the pillar

dude: Very cool. That is awesome.

me: or feel that what you need would make you seem like less of one
when that’s not usually the case – i need to wake the women up too

dude: You nailed it!

me: we lose our connection to our primal desires and it can backfire
when we try to become like men but use sex to gain or hold power
when we already know it didn’t work for them and we’re no longer pleasing ourselves and enjoying something like a blow job rather than it being a chore or bargaining chip – same for the guys – that’s perverting the essence and purpose of sex just as much as porn –
that bugs the shit out of me lol we all have a responsibility to the future we create


Q: Do u shave and bleach your rectum?
A: I don’t bleach, not all rectums get dark, but I do shave bc its faster than waiting for it to grow long enough to wax off.
Q: Do girls enjoy giving guys a “rusty trombone” and have you ever tried the many van. (Two fingers in the front and five up the back)
A:lol What?!?!? Many van seems like a game guys play to think they know what they are doing when they don’t. Shoving shit into any open space like sex tetris lol
As far as the rusty trombone…I’m not into smashing my face into a strangers ass. Though I’m not afraid of my own poop cus i know what makes it, some people aren’t as particular in their hygiene and diet so its something I put aside only for men I’m involved with longterm and that I have a hand in nurturing.
Q: Would you sleep with me if the opportunity arose?
A: I don’t go by looks so if this is a disguised “am i pretty question?” I can’t help you there, that’s subjective.  Whether or not i would have sex with you depends on how you would treat me and how you handle yourself. I’m not a typically flirty person so it’s very rare that a guy can pick me up that easy. I think physical practices are great for helping you get back in the body and move in all senses in confidence, but that’s not an automatic – attraction is 3 fold: body mind and spirit. People tend to like fantasy and want a script before they have the confidence to just react and not “act”. So, it would depend on many factors….and if you could make me laugh.
Q: My question is what would recommend me do about my ex just coming around for sex. I mean we’re divorced. And though we are cool with each other, I believe she still has feelings, but I want move on and meet women like yourself. I love sex and must have it as many times as possible. The kicker is when we were together she never wanted it. Crazy ! Just wondering what you thought
A: There is something to the way we women (and men) are taught our roles (from the perspective of a child learning from an ‘adult’) and wanting to achieve what others expect of us (or what we anticipate them to expect) can lead us away from our natural urges – we train ourselves to fit a mold and when under certain labels adjust ourselves to our settings ;) accordingly. This is an easy mental trap to break with understanding
Regarding the situation of wanting to have fun but think she might have feelings: all I can say is have a conversation. If you’re grown up enough to have sex then you’re grown up enough to talk about – not talking down, and maybe you’ve already done that. From there you have a firmer understanding of what the other wants and is willing to accept – I call this equal footing. If you’re taking sidesteps on the surface to avoid feelings and confrontation then you can’t expect to get any deeper. If you really want to move on to another relationship then you can’t be dragging her along, not attractive.
If you are looking for something more surfaced and varied (perhaps in attempt to find something deeper) then know that you are in control of your own life. If she can’t handle what you need (which may be the omnificent parental allowance or blessing to do what you want) then suppressing it won’t help the problem. I’d suggest acting out your fantasies to face the true reality. Decide what type of person you’d like to be – if you have to hide who you are from others then you are living in deceit and that can eat at your conscious. If you are prepared for losing or changing the relationship (which is why you got divorced, I would think) and you are ready to take responsibility for yourself and your needs (and if they don’t include her) then ships ahoy! Ultimately….follow your body. It will teach you through the experiences (sometimes unexpected) to find what you’re really searching for. Practice openness, in terms of what to expect and also in terms of honesty for peace of mind along the way. We’re pretty programmed to avoid a situation until the outcome is secured – or at the least the illusion of it. Then again, some men get a thrill out of the fact that someone might care about what they do and “cheating” (which is what I assume you may still feel like you’re doing it if she has expectations) allows the thrill to walk that edge – the root issue there is: why the need to edge – that’s usually a shotgun expression of repression and not accepting and allowing yourself physical, mental or emotional expression. These are binds we place on ourselves.
I think the bigger issue men have with letting go of women is the insinuated responsibility you put on yourself. The story is usually “well she has no one else” “things are really tough for her right now and I feel bad leaving” “I’ll stick around till she gets back on her feet” to release any self imposed guilt. This is that paternal sense implanted in us to remain loyal. Loyalty should only be to yourself, otherwise your “loyalty” is useless to anyone else and a self-deceptive false front. If your heart is true and you follow rather than deny it then you won’t have to worry about being “loyal” to others. Trying to be more of something to someone just for the admiration, “respect”, or not to lose face is backwards manipulation. “People will assume this” or “people will think that”. If that’s the case then you are assuming people are too shallow to understand a complex situation (which is the case many times) and if that’s true then why would you care what they think, SHOW them different…they obviously don’t know themselves. Women are pulled into it to with the maternal stuff. These “roles” can creates a chokehold on the relationship between two masks of who you think you’re supposed to be fighting for your actual truths to be heard without feeling that you’ve failed the self-expected “role” and go on wondering if you’re being loved for who you really are or the supposedly tolerable physode you put up. Why does it get so messy? Because people want to love really badly and aren’t taught how to just be themselves in order to find what they really need. In our media driven society we are put on a conveyer belt of wants and new things in order to generate money and pushed to limits of anxiousness in our quest to gather all the gold coins. It all stems from good intention so we have to be compassionate with the other side of the coin.
My best advice would be: if you say you are “cool with each other” then you should be able to discuss what was obviously coming when you two decided to divorce. The other side of that is that if she doesn’t take well to it then I guess y’all weren’t actually cool with each other but continuing the “roles” to avoid pain and the obvious. If your will can’t handle that reaction and you’d rather suffer silently a little longer instead then that’s your choice too :)  Whatever tickles your pickle, I’d say, if you’re grown up enough to handle accountability and have confidence in your needs and decisions. So if you know its over and want to continue with her and begin your new journey I think that transition would go much smoother if you learned to lessen the shame and in actualizing instead of contemplating (which isn’t wrong either, just a phase of growth) things you may send off energetically will cut the chords on it’s own. The universe has a way of helping us when we act on our desires to prove our commitments. It’s up to us to chose wisely which reality we manifest and who we really want to be. Anything we repress or hide comes out in the end anyway.
You are responsible for your own happiness and she is a child of the universe just like you and will be taken care of just like you will. I can only guess that she has the same needs but stuck in the same quandary – it doesn’t mean she doesn’t have feelings but those feelings are prob the reaction to the guy you’re pretending to be right now and thinking that maybe you still have feelings and is doing exactly what you are, still bouncing back and forth on the idea of moving on, not wanting to be the “bad guy” first – still the same tug of war from before right? Truth sets us all free.
sidenote: I didn’t have sex for a year and a half after my divorce – it wasn’t because I wanted or missed my husband (I didn’t have much sex during the marriage either) but because I had to work so hard during the marriage to disconnect from my feelings to stay in the relationship that it closed me off to feeling my needs in order to fit the monotonous “good wife” role. It took a while and a lot of physical therapy to bring me back to my Senses. And it’s scary for everyone to jump back out there after losing a marriage, or any security blanket. We all have the same human insecurities. It’s our choice of how to feed them; either by facing and defying them or allowing them to swallow and paralyze us.

ad dicks

In 1970 a Federal study estimated the total retail value of pornography was around $10 million. Shockingly, by 2001, a study put the total (including video, pay-per-view, Internet and magazines) between $2.6 billion and $3.9 billion. That profit number should be a red flag for anyone trying to understand the morality behind pornography, as any corporate influenced industry usually leaves ethics and human wellness at the door when promoting their profit margins. [2][3][4]

Is Porn Ruining Sex?

Brett and Kate Mckay from theartofmaniless.com, wrote in an article titled The Problem With PornPornography is such a polarizing issue, that it’s easy for people to take extreme sides when approaching it. Oftentimes, religious people, while very sincere in their beliefs, brand porn as vile filth that turns good men into sexual perverts and unclean lepers… The other extreme sees porn as just a healthy expression of sexuality. Pornography is heartily encouraged in order to help people discover what pleases them sexually, no matter how graphic or violent the material is. The people in this camp will argue that as long as consenting adults are involved and no one gets hurt, then anything goes. However, this approach fails to recognize the detrimental effects porn can have on an individual, on women, and on society.”[5]

Pornography watching without a doubt can be a compulsive practice.  It’s more like food to a compulsive over-eater. Once you make those pleasure connections in your brain they can be very hard to break. And it’s not an exaggeration to say that porn can ruin your life. The false standards and ideals established through porn affect men and women more so than you might think. Some might disagree to this notion, but pornography objectifies both women and men. For the longest time, the subject of objectification was based solely on women, and this held true for many years.  However, one cannot deny that in our current culture men are objectified just as much in the media. In pornography especially (heterosexual and homosexual), men and women are looked at as sexually gratifying ‘things’, leaving out the need to connect spiritually, emotionally, or intellectually.

One of the largest issues with pornography is the false standards and expectations that exist as its entourage. The men usually have shredded bodies and large penises, the women are usually tiny with massive breast implants. When children see these types of images at a young age, insecurities arise due to erroneous definitions of what ‘men’ and ‘women’ are stated to be.

Where’s The Love Yall?

There is no love associated with sex in porn, but instead sex is portrayed as an aggressive, animalistic type of practice that wants only to see the gratified ending. There is a massive mis-education done through pornography which creates unrealistic ideas of what ‘good’ sex is. In some cases this can create a big problem in the bedroom, with some people even having to revert to sexual fantasies while having sex in order to reach orgasm. Furthermore, watching porn on a regular basis can diminish the need for sexual pleasure within a relationship.

“Pornography works in the most basic of ways on the brain: It is Pavlovian. An orgasm is one of the biggest reinforcers imaginable. If you associate orgasm with your wife, a kiss, a scent, a body, that is what, over time, will turn you on; if you open your focus to an endless stream of ever-more-transgressive images of cybersex slaves, that is what it will take to turn you on. The ubiquity of sexual images does not free eros, but dilutes it. Other cultures know this. I am not advocating a return to the days of hiding female sexuality, but I am noting that the power and charge of sex are maintained when there is some sacredness to it, when it is not on tap all the time.”

With all that being said, it must be made clear that I am not denouncing masturbation. Exploring self-pleasure is an essential aspect of being human. After all, those pleasure centers are innate for a reason.

What I’m saying is that there has been a massive misrepresentation of sexual intimacy through the media and porn industry for many years, and these falsifications have destroyed the sacredness of the act. Sex has lost the self-giving, mutually reciprocating intimacy that it was designed for. As we move forward as a society, the media-based values and principles surrounding sexuality need to be readdressed and perhaps fully erased to make room for a new foundation for sex, one without definition and limitation, and one that realigns our bodies with the true nature of intimacy and pleasure.


Title Pending

Something in the making that’s been a long time coming…the story of my womanhood, at least one aspect of it. I haven’t been able to settle down enough to lay it out but it’s gnawing at me so I’ll begin in pieces.


After meeting God and going over my life review I discovered that there had been many beliefs that I’d constructed my life and thought patterns around that were tainted, distorted and not serving my life in the most fruitful ways. I realized that I never respected women’s sexuality because I thought it meant irresponsibility. I feared men’s sexuality because I thought it required my degradation.

 My parents married at the age of 19 after conceiving my older brother and a day less than a year after he was born I came along. By the age of 24 my mother had 3 children and a full time job. My father worked nights mostly from what I can remember though once, when my sister was small, he stayed home for a short time while my mother worked.

They had a typically youthful and tumultuous relationship. I can remember cops being called to the house and speaking with my dad. There were times when he beat us or my mother too hard or too often. Lots of yelling and childish frustration between the both of them that would spill out into the open. I look back at times, for instance when we would visit my grandparents, my parents would get angry at us for something we did, either being impolite or not listening to orders. My dad would take us into the main bathroom in the middle of the house made of paper thin walls, have us pull our pants and underwear down, lean us over the bathtub rail and whip the diddly squat out of us as we wailed. Sometimes my mother would be in there and sometimes during our whippings she couldn’t bear to watch. I can’t imagine today that if my brother were to take my niece into the restroom and strip her down, beat her as she screams, that I could sit there with a blank look on my face and finish my dinner making small talk at a table full of people hearing and witnessing the same thing. There are many things I look back on in my life that make me realize that I’ve escaped a religious cult.



Maybe “religious cult” sounds too harsh but it sets a good parallel to observe certain points in my story and realize how diluted we are with mind control and accepting things because someone in “authority” says so. While “cult” may be a dense term to many (and “religion” an emotional one), for me it describes well the mentality of the idol(idle) worshipers and patriarchy, at least the wide wake of that influential mindset. I’m not writing this to blame or punish anyone, I’m not even really angry about it. I kind of look at it as a study on the evolution of mammals and the mind path.
I just want to tell my story without censorship for politeness and also the story of the child I was and give her a platform that wasn’t available at the time. Like being the advocate who finally speaks up for her or more so, allows her to speak. This feels like part of my purpose here on earth. I hope that bits and pieces will connect to moments in your life and perhaps give a new outlook on them. Whether or not it makes a difference it’s something I need to express for those in my own wake and, as an equal member of this hueman vibration, to create one in the first place.
Going back to spankings at my grandparents house, I recall one time in particular during a birthday party for me and my brother. We usually shared parties, usually halloween ones, because our birthdays were aligned next to each other. My little sister was kind of a spoiled child, as most babies are. During my brother and my birthday times my parents, grandparents or her godparents would also give her a gift so that she wouldn’t feel left out. Like many families we all tended to have set roles in our family. My brother, being the boy and first grandchild, was just that – a golden boy. My sister was the spunky and pretty one. I was the shy and smart one, this determination set some implied boundaries and plays out into what I allowed of myself to express. I saw this reflected and reinforced on me in so many ways, one being gifts.
During that birthday party, I think i was turning 8, my godmother handed me a gift and one for my little sister. I could already tell mine was a book but as i saw my sister rip hers open to find a typical pink and purple silly but fun girl toy I had hopes that maybe mine was at least a cool coloring book or something more creative. When I opened it up my gut instinct was confirmed, a book of puzzles – more homework and logic. It’s not that I didn’t like puzzles or appreciate the gesture but I was hoping for more fun but, as usual, I was redirected to being a “good” and “responsible” girl. The disappointment must have flashed brightly across my face because the next thing I remember is my mother telling me to say “thank you”, which I repeated and then my father, not being satisfied with my enthusiasm, grabbing me hard by the arm and telling me I should be more grateful and say thank you like I mean it. With tears in my eyes I looked up helplessly at my aunt, knowing what was coming next, said “thank you for the book of puzzles” then walked the long mile to the bathroom to receive my beating and reprimanding.
I don’t care much about birthdays, not because of any one birthday in particular but because they were always a shared celebration so I don’t really get the whole concept. Well, I do but it’s not as “traditionally” ingrained as many others around me, so I now just celebrate everyday as a birthday.
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In my family the center was the male. The man of the house was what everything else revolved around. I connect this to religion in my life because it reflects the Jesus theory. Although Mary is given more airtime in the Cathoic religion vs the other popular Christian religions Catholics still put the man over woman just by placing Jesus as Lord and determining god a male. For me God is both male and female, he is above sex and gender. But that is hard to portray en masse to a richly physical world so it may seem that one side of the scale may always be tipped, it depends on where you “stand”.

On my mother’s side of the family was a strict Catholic upbringing. My grandparents had 6 children, the first died in it’s first year. We attended Catholic private school for generations and some still do. In my old hometown, where many of my family still live, they attend church together every Sunday and my grandparents attend secondary masses and prayer vigils, etc. I have nuns and a deacon in the family. As a child I wanted to be a nun but I also didn’t want to miss out on relationships with men so I just kinda tweaked the vocation to better suit my needs. My maternal grandma is a very devoted Catholic wife. She refers to my grandfather as “daddy”, as their children would call him. My grandfather is a very self disciplined Catholic man. He cannot easily deal with emotion though. If my grandmother begins to speak about something that makes her emotional all he has to do is say her name in a stern manner and she looks down and shuts her mouth, turning the conversation with a forced smile. He deals with pain with anger but doesn’t like to express his anger, though you see it rumble around in his brow. But he is a gentle man and playful. He loves to laugh and lift you up. My maternal grandparents are still alive and married to each other.
On my father’s side they were like the deviant side compared to the Catholics. My grandma said they were Baptist but they didn’t go to church. My grandma had four boys and had lost her first one near its birth. My grandparents would drink and smoke in their home when we would visit. They had “new money” from my grandpa’s business and loved to spend it on luxury items. My grandma had closets of furs, the wall paper of their house was more like fabric and everything was so new and coordinated. They had a black maid who played the accordion as my grandma would sing. I remember the maid could only use the toilet that was in their laundry room. I remember liking that lady but thinking, though she was kind to me, she didn’t seem to like us much. I didn’t really enjoy visiting my paternal grandparents as a child but years later I created a relationship with my grandmother aka Mawmaw Teen. My grandmother and mother didn’t really get along and she seemed to prefer my other cousins because she had more in common with their mom. She told me once that she was just better with boys. I think she was once a stripper but the family didn’t talk about it.  My paternal grandparents divorced at age 65 and both have passed on in the last ten years.

In both families the man was the Sun and whatever happened was in accordance to his needs. I think when you have children young it sets you up into a role of authority you’ve not yet been humbled enough by life to deserve. So it seemed that our family revolved around the needs of an angry, highly sexual, post pubescent male. Everything required my father’s say so, we couldn’t have dinner without having what he wanted and waiting for him to come home for it. He wouldn’t allow my mother to pierce her ears until she defied him at the age of 27, he thought earrings were for showy whores. I can also remember my father keeping Playboys in the living room. Occasionally my mother would complain about it and they would fight about why he has to look at other women, isn’t she good enough and blah blah blah. Years later he finally moved his stash to the top of the armoire in their bedroom. I can remember all of us sitting around watching TV one night, my sister was still tiny so I must’ve been 4 or 5, and my father flips it to a pornographic sex scene – not just R rated movie stuff. My mom got upset and asked him to change it. He laughed and refused and she got up and walked off but eventually came back and sat down again. I remember being so confused. I wasn’t ignorant to what he was doing but confused at the emotional interaction between my parents, it was more disturbing than the porn. I already knew my father was a monster, my fears were; what does that make my mother, my supposed ‘role model’, who allows it?



I’ve compared my life timeline to my mother’s over the years. Around 1990, she was 30 and I was 10, after living in the big city of Houston, TX for a while she began dressing more provocatively at my father’s request or at least that’s the reason she gave to me. My mother is beautiful and she had regained her youthful figure after having 3 children so I don’t blame her for wanting to be seen. My god encounter at the age of 30 reignited my sexuality among other things so I could relate at that age a sliver of what she may have been going through. The tough part about it for a chubby 10 year old (actually looking back I wasn’t chubby at all until jr high but the way I was treated made me feel like I was 300 pounds overweight) was the sexual attention she received from others and my father.


She would wear short shorts with her ass cheeks hanging out, crop tops with her tits hanging out, legs legs and more legs combined with “who, me?” eye flutters and “bashful” but flirty smiles. She would have my father publicly fondling her whenever he pleased….sticking out her ass for him to grope in our drive way or at the store for all to see, in my fathers lap on the recliner in the living room where he would be fondling her between the legs, she squirms and giggles looking around acting like she’s trying to be covert while a 12 year old boy, 11 and 7 year old girls are trapped in the room watching tv during “family time”… Fucking Gross.


When she became a sex object I felt a loss of protection. She was, I thought, my only hope. When she was displayed I felt violated. Why did I feel this? Because of the extra sexual energy it invited into my atmosphere? At those ages I could only interpret it as aggression. Because she seemed more concern with attention than my well being? Why did I feel fearful in the first place? I know the answer to the last question but the conditioning I’d been placed under wouldn’t allow me to consider the truth because I lived in a blanket of lies where the truth suffocates under the need for survival and “sanity”. Why did I put all of this responsibility on her and not my father? Because I was a female and knew I was strong, the difference between right and wrong and I assumed the same of her.


I can understand her need for expression and attention. I can understand being raised to want children and following through with that inception at a young and ignorant age. Seeing the two collide was like a bombing of a city in my territory. There had to be a way to discover yourself without causing harm to others in your charge, I had to figure this out. Also it was increasing the behavior of my father, luckily I was considered “fat” at this point and I felt that kept me somewhat safe from him.


My family made plenty of comments on my looks growing up, it was just expected from a young and shallow environment. My parents would ask me “don’t you want to be thin and pretty like the other girls your age? they have so much more fun.” As a small girl I liked to play outside with the animals and often got scratches and rashes on my extra sensitive skin. My mother would scold me and say “you can’t be a model when you grow up if you have scars on your legs” I’d tell her that was ok, I didn’t want to be a model. She didn’t seem to understand that at the time. My mom was so thin and beautiful but I was always told I looked more like my dad’s side.


This gave me a complex of feeling that I looked more like a man. I would say this all the time all the way up through high school. If any one told me I was pretty I looked at them like they were nuts and said “I look like a man” with the deepest sincerity. The usual response was laughter and I thought “wow, they’re really not seeing me” and felt lucky that they didn’t notice. This complex kinda faded but then during my divorce , at the age of 29,I had called my mother to go over some old stuff from her marriage that was coming up for me during the end of my marriage.


She seemed to recall that period much differently at this point. One of the things we went over was why we didn’t see my father’s mother for a period of time. We weren’t allowed to visit there and she wasn’t allowed at our house, my grandpa would sneak over for visits. My mother told me that my grandma was accusing her of cheating on my dad and that I wasn’t his child (supposedly his brother’s, whom my mother had dated before she dated my father but that part was kept quiet). She spread this “rumor” around the small Louisiana town that my entire family resided in. From that point on when I would meet my mother’s friends they would all be sure to remark “oh my goodness Sandy, but she looks just like her dad” or “I can’t believe how much she looks like her dad” to make my mother feel better. I always felt this emphasis had to do with how identical people thought we were and had no idea as a child of the angle it was initiated from. Finding this out actually rearranged the way I saw myself. It was a strange relief and I felt an unfamiliar power reinstated.





Another excerpt of the past that was brought up between me and my mother during my divorce was about an accusation she claims I made as a child. I attended kindergarten in Louisiana at the private school my mothers family had being going to for generations. We moved that year and I finished kindergarten in Houston, TX. I mention this as a date reference marking my age because I know the conversation I’m about to describe happened before changing schools so I would have been 5 years old.

I recall having just learned about inappropriate touching and strangers at school. I remember being confused to the boundaries of touching. An alert went off in class when the nuns were talking about it, I remember turning red but not knowing exactly why. After school a few days later I was sitting outside with my grandma in the carport. My grandma usually took care of us after school. My grandpa worked on cars and kept the ones he was working on parked on the far side of the drive. I remember sitting on the bumper of the car parked there at the time as I was talking to my grandma. I was always drawn to the cars, especially the wrecked ones. Once he brought one home with a shattered windshield still holding the impression and hairs of the head that slammed into it. My favorite was  little green MG Midget.

Back to the conversation…I was telling my grandma about what we learned in class and then asked her, by showing, just what type of touching was inappropriate. She became alarmed and this freaked me out. I was scared of my dad, we weren’t supposed to tell. I knew he would kill me. This was my cage of fear. From my memory I tried to act like I was just curious but she was insistent on asking me “who touched you like that?” I remember her taking me inside but don’t recall much after that or had even thought about the incident again until a call with my mother almost 25 years later.


During my divorce, when I called her to clear up things in my family’s past that I thought were hindering me from fully loving another, my mother mentioned being annoyed at me that she hadn’t been close to her sister, my godmother, since I had accused her husband of molesting me. Hearing this came as a shock to me. I think I would have remembered saying something like that and couldn’t have imagined me blaming him because he was my favorite uncle at the time. I loved my godmother and her boyfriend at the time was a large, over weight guy who was funny to me and at that age I felt safer around unattractive people. I felt they understood me better than my parents and had less interest in the superficial because of how they chose to look (I was wrong about that). I couldn’t believe I would have blamed him, not that I was accusing my mother of lying…at least not at that moment…I still “believed” what I was told back then.

I tried to reason the claim. Maybe my fear of my father led me to blame my uncle who i thought was a safer focus for the family so that I wouldn’t get in trouble for telling on my dad. But I honestly don’t believe I said that as a child. None of that sounds familiar, I don’t recall any conversations with any family members about my uncle and “touching” before or after talking with my grandma. I do recall how often my mother covered for my father, it was protocol. Now it’s just total denial of the past since she’s moved on to a new marriage…the old life would be too embarrassing to admit to.

Once I heard this from my mother it was like a rush of cold water in my veins. I felt betrayed. Even if I did blame him she’d have to know what I meant, then and now. My family always raves about how smart my mother is so I highly doubt she was ignorant of what was going on in her adult home that a 5 year old was conscious of. But instead a 5 year old was made to be a cryer of wolf (which worked to their advantage for years to come). I felt so horrible when she told me this that I called my godmother’s husband a little while after to explain the situation and apologize for the years of misunderstanding and hard feelings it put between the adults. It was not well received. His simple country brain couldn’t wrap itself around what I was trying to say. He works as a guard at a correctional institute and began to tell me a bout the men in there serving years who are innocent but someone accused them. I tried to tell him that I never accused him and that it was my dad, and if I actually did say it was him it was only because I was a scared shitless 5 year old who couldn’t leave her situation and couldn’t afford to tell the truth because I had no one TRULY watching out for me. Could he now take that into account in regards to the situation if they still believe I accused him. He still didn’t get it and went on berating me until I had to hang up the phone.

I have to mention again that at no time in my life growing up did anyone mention this to me or make any sign that they were upset with me (or concerned for me) – just the typical christian sweeping under the rug and put on a fake smile, be polite, etc., etc. Fake as fuck.




As I began to develop I also began to envelope, or hide myself further.I noticed older men staring at me and winking on occasion. I didn’t know yet the subtle signs of predatory behavior, I just knew it felt invasive but it must be some form of hatred within me to be unnerved by someone giving a greeting. I later realized why it felt so sinister. I can recall a particular time at a store when I was about 12 or 13 and a 50 something man was eyeing me as i walked with my family. As soon as he fell behind my parents he gave me a deliberate wink and looked at my breasts. I wanted to cry – I felt kidnapped or stolen, something horrible i couldn’t explain or tell anyone, at least not the people I lived with. The more this happened the more angry i became that my “father” wasn’t the only creep out there. This was accepted and normalized and would be a daily public intrusion. Now how to deal with it…?

In Jr High i had developed into a full C cup and i hated it. I hated the attention from everyone, I hated wearing bras and the backaches they gave you. I hated feeling pushed once again into a sexual object. I began to stop showering and I would wear baggy jeans and large men’s t-shirts to hide myself in. I wasn’t trying to be butchy, I was trying to be invisible. I didn’t want to shower because i didn’t want to feel the water on my skin or the cool air around my damp body – i didn’t want to feel anything on my skin. i didn’t want to feel anything. i REALLY didn’t want to feel. I would go to school in baggy clothes and just sit there sad like some creepy homeless person. I had friends and though i didn’t talk about certain things with them but they gave me escape with laughter.

I began to put on weight. Although i hated how i looked it felt safer i guess and distanced me farther from my body and having to feel. One day at the mall with my mother we ran across some of the more pretty and popular girls in my class and my mother said “I don understand why you don’t want to be skinny like your friends. Don’t you want to be pretty?” My parents put me on diets a lot in those days. They would restrict my food and allow me, let’s see if i remember, one was a turkey sandwich in the morning: two pieces of wheat bread and two slices of turkey and the same for lunch. I think they gave me apple slices and carrots or something. Oh, and diet pills.

My mother used to drop me off early at school on her way to work so i’d wait by the back door of the school watching the sunrise and the cows for about an hour until my math and homeroom teacher showed up for work. He would let me in to hang out with him till school started and we’d play horse with the nerf ball and hoop. He always treated me like any other kid. I would also usually eat the turkey sandwich that i was given for lunch because i was hungry. For the rest of the day i would buy sour powers from he kids selling candy and overload on sugar because i was hungry. Then I started sneaking cookies in the morning by buying them in the cafeteria. I knew I would get in trouble at home if I gained weight so i taught myself to throw up and in 8th grade i became bulimic. My parents found out and tried harder restrictions. My father would block me from the bathroom after dinner – one night i just vomited in the kitchen sink in front of everyone. They kinda just ignored it after that.

I was also battling a lot of anger issues that year – stuff from home that was getting too intense to contain. There was a girl in school that just seemed to get on my nerves, maybe she reminded me of my “perfect” mother. She was a cheerleader and in AP classes so we’d cross paths in some subjects. AP kids always worried so much about seeming smart that they kinda overdo it in the kissing teachers asses dept. That shit really irked me, especially from her. One day i couldn’t take it anymore and while she was in the middle of some story of some awesome thing she did i walked out of class and into the girls bathroom and beat up a bathroom stall. I couldn’t understand why i was so mad. I just hated feeling.

The next day i went to school with a bottle of sleeping pills and when my teacher let me in the building early i went into that same bathroom stall and emptied the bottle into my mouth – no cookies that morning. My homeroom teacher noticed i was a bit off during the day and sent me to the nurse who sent me to the counselor. I told him what i did but that i was fine, just upset that it didn’t work. He let me go back to class and sent me some smiley faced hang in there card a few days later. I assume he called my parents – i can’t remember. I’m sure i was grounded for it – i was grounded a lot so that’s a blur.


The back cover of a book my mother sent me.