Bisexual Girls Club

Hmmm… I could get to like this blog:

http://zoehassex.blogspot.com. I’d have to say Next Stop, Zoe…

“What was it that interested you about the diary?
I was just drawn into the world of Florence Wolfson, who kept the book from 1929 to 1934, between the ages of 14 and 19. What made it so magical was that time just seemed to dissolve as I read further into her life. She was like my self: a painter and a writer searching for love and meaning in her life and trying to carve out her own path. She was extremely adventurous; her life was full of theater, art, literature, salons and love affairs with both men and women. I really felt like I got to know her.”

***

So, now this book sounds quite intriguing to me. Even though I have not yet read it, I would like to add it to my book list.

I can almost imagine it being a portal into the past.

And it reminds me of my own diary at that age. How would her diary compare to mine?

Was she advanced for her time? Could she shed any light into my own life if at such a young age she was already having love affairs with both men and women? In her pictures, she looked much older, mature.

What secrets did she possess? What kind of honesty lies in a book that was never supposed to be read? Today we can give so much of our selves in our public diaries… but are we brutally honest? What kind of freedom is there in a secret journal that there isn’t in a public journal? I’d like to know… I’d like to be a part of her secrets…

The Red Leather Diary: Reclaiming a Life through the Pages of a Lost Journal

Here is some of my other notions:

Tumblr on Sexuality…

Okay, so I have this idea that every entry has to be completely thought out or else it just totally sucks. But then I take forever to get my thoughts out. So, I’m going try to get this one out easy.

For some reason, after reading my blog or my husband’s blog, some people seem to think that I am probably a size 0 and a blond bombshell. It bothers me because not only is my idea of sexy not in there, but it concerns me that it’s the only definition of sexy that’s really out there. With that image I’m certainly to disappoint anyone I meet.

I am not a size zero and if I were so what? I actually was a size zero once. But I’ve also been in the double digits. I mean, my weight has certainly fluctuated a lot. I’ve struggled with my self image. I’m not trying to impose my ideal onto anyone else. So why is it that people make all these assumptions about who I am and who I’m looking for? Even after I specifically state that being sexy is a state of mind. I’m not going to tell you all my fears just so that you’ll like me. I mean, the only imposition is that I talk about some of my preferences maybe. I don’t even think I paint that great of a picture. I’m not that descriptive about the way people look. So where is this blond bombshell size zero coming from?

I guess I have to ignore other people’s insecurities because I have too many of my own. But when I write a sexy story, when my husband writes a sexy story, I’d like to think we paint more than just images of blond bombshell size 0s all around us.

And if I don’t include you in my club, I’m sorry, but that doesn’t mean it’s because you’re not a size zero. And you don’t need to prove your self worth by offering blow jobs either. I’ve had small girls and big girls flake out on me (oh yes, I’ve been stood up many times – only once by a man, but mostly by women who decide they can’t deal with meeting me or something like that), so it takes more than being the right size to be a part of something. If you’re serious about it you will make the choices that will lead you to make it happen. If you’re not serious, you will make all the excuses in the world and never look at your role in it. I know because I’ve done that. I’ve made excuses thinking everyone else was excluding me and feeling so judged thinking how dare they, but you know it’s usually my own fault I am excluded. It’s usually in the attitude, not the look. Please don’t blame me for your insecurities.

Frankly I’m offended that by the whole thing. Some women don’t like me because either I haven’t met their ideal or I might not meet their ideal or I might meet their ideal but then they can’t relate to me or else they think they might not meet my ideal so how dare do I judge them? We’re all screwed up with this whole image thing… I neither expect people I meet to be size zero blond bombshells nor am I that way, but I try not to fault someone for being that either. I’ve been with women of different sizes, shapes, and colors. It’s more the personality that attracts me to a person or that makes me come back for more. If the chemistry is right…

I do have a preference, but it’s not likely a size zero blond bombshell, though I did meet a beautiful blond once who was sexy inside and out and she knew it and I couldn’t deny it and I couldn’t hate her for it and I wanted to be with her and be in her and be her… but it wasn’t because she was that blond bombshell everyone wants yet is afraid to approach. It was because we hit it off and I was able to approach her and we gave each other a chance and we could admire each other and respect each other that’s all it really took.

Women are angry with each other for no reason. They sometimes say if you’re beautiful then you don’t deserve it. If you’re not, then why should I listen to you? There’s a lot of hatred and jealousy and comparison going on, but why? We all have our moments and we all have our woes. I’ve been healthy and I have been unhealthy. And I’ve recently tried to get back to being healthy. I just want to feel sexy so I’m sorry if I conveyed the message that I am a size 0 blond bombshell and that’s the only kind of woman I want to be near.

When I stand up for
myself and my beliefs,
they call me a
bitch.

When I stand up for
those I love,
they call me a
bitch.

When I speak my mind, think my own thoughts
or do things my own way, they call me a
bitch.

Being a bitch
means I won’t compromise what’s
in my heart.
It means I live my life
MY way.
It means I won’t allow anyone to step on me.

When I refuse to
tolerate injustice and
speak against it, I am
defined as a
bitch.

The same thing happens when I take time for
myself instead of being everyone’s maid, or when

I act a little selfish.

It means I have the courage and strength to allow

myself to be who I truly am and won’t become

anyone else’s idea of what they think I

“should” be.
I am outspoken,
opinionated and determined. I want what I want

and there is nothing wrong with that!

So try to stomp on me,
try to douse my inner flame, try to squash

every ounce of beauty I hold within me.
You won’t succeed.

And if that makes me a bitch ,
so be it.
I embrace the title and
am proud to bear it.

-anonymous

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I like this. I think this could relate to one’s sexuality too, or at least the confidence one needs to understand, appreciate and freely express their own desires… I think I might need a little bitchology in my life.