adrienmundi

(Probably more the former than the latter, in the whole Miriam Blaylock, "hungry, can't eat/tired, can't sleep" way)

So this is an attempt at the desire post. It's a tricky topic, and one I've been putting off for some time because I don't really want to face it, maybe don't know how to face it. Desire is hard, complicated stuff for me, yet I can't escape the feeling that it's pretty simple and direct for others.

At base, I don't think I feel authorized or entitled to pleasure. I distinguish between pleasure and enjoyment. It's probably not just a question of scale or intensity, as there are things that I enjoy immensely and profoundly. It's probably worth noting that many of the things I do enjoy, I enjoy most when not directly interacting with others (this is probably the partial reason my shrink suspects I'm introverted). That seems telling, to me, that distinction, so I'll dig there.

I rarely feel like I know how to interact properly with people, and I haven't since I was a pretty young kid. This is one case that I do think gendery stuff makes my life harder. I've no trouble acknowledging hunger/desire, feeling in it, revelling in its potential, but when it comes to actualizing.... I'm remedial. People tend to expect things in their interactions, especially when naked and desirous, and I tend to think gender is something they expect, that conflation of 'body parts=sex=gender=expectations'. As much as I hate it, I'm susceptible to this to some degree as well, only in the backwards, no fun for me kind of way. I expect the bod(y/ies) of (an)other(s) to just be bodies occupied by personality, history, etc, but I don't know how to act like that, just a body, just a person, and get caught in a neurotic loop of anticipation>distraction>disengagement.

This is invariably the point that someone tells me, usually helpfully intentioned, that I care too much about what other people think, and that's true, but I'd honestly challenge anyone who would say that to try and imagine projecting/connecting with another without the assumedly solid base of knowing they're a wo/man, and knowing that at least to some degree, their partner(s) know and understand what that means. I've got no template, no pattern from which to affirm or deviate and what's worse is that neither does anyone else, where I'm concerned. This feels like it should be liberating, but experience tells me otherwise.

I desire, a lot. I worry that I come across as all talk, or just a rhetorical stance I'm taking, but seriously, no; I'm very clear on what I like, and it's a pretty big collection of goodness. That I don't know how to do what I want to do about it is a reflection of my own lostness and confusion, but is certainly, certainly not indicative of lack of interest, desire or motivation.

Fuck, now this sort of feels like a confessional personal ad. I don't even know how to write about desire. Bleh.