To The FemmeMobile! Away!











{January 28, 2010}   All I want is perfection. Is that so much to ask?

Ha ha ha, I mean that for an SO, but REALLY I mean it for EVERYTHING. >.>

Okay, so Nick was very nice and very interesting but… there were no sparks. NONE. Alas.

And then I came home and my neighbor, K, and her boyfriend got me drunk. hoooleee… Hee. πŸ˜€

The good news is — well, multifold. Or something. Work with me here, I’m drunk blogging. The good news is, I think both Nick and I realized it wasn’t sparking, so I don’t have to worry about a stalker. Yay! The other good news is, I looked FABULOUS. Check it out. πŸ˜€

Pictures are clickable! You can kind of see the tops of the boots in that one pic; alas, I was working with a timer and the confines of my apartment, so I couldn’t get a better shot.

You ever meet someone, and you think, “…I would flatten you.”? I do. I do it a lot, actually. Part of it is self confidence. I have a lot of it these days. I am attractive, I run my own business, I’m a successful business woman, dog trainer, author, and I’m well on my way toward being successful in being a good person — donating to charity, living with love, all that kinda stuff.

It was very strange being with Nick, because if anyone had asked me I would have said the same thing about her. And yet, even as our conversations went on, I could feel myself quietly taking control. I don’t think it has to do with experience. I didn’t hit this same thing with DK. DK was basically my energetic equal in most ways (in other ways, we swapped off so it was all good). At no point did I feel like, “I could smother you.” And yet, that’s what I feel with most people. I’m in control. I’m going to guide the conversation, decide what we talk about, decide how fast we move, etc. I hadn’t really realized it until tonight, and it was a little odd. The phrase that popped into my head? “Fiercely femme.”

I’m not a dom. I do not WANT to be a dom. I have no interest in that. Problem is, to find someone who can — for lack of a better term, and believe me, I don’t like D/s and my skin crawls at this term and if anyone ever used it on me I would have to break their kneecaps. Oh wait, I kinda already did with someone else — match me, and take charge, and be slightly dom for me… well, I’m not sure how that ends. Except, boy, they’d better be REALLY dom without being a Dom and without being a controlling ass (those two things are very separate, let me just point out. You can be Dom and not be a controlling ass, and if you’re a controlling ass you’re probably not really a Dom).

I’m starting to think I’m hilariously well balanced, and anyone coming after me had better be really centered.

It’s almost like a test. I feel like a dog. In fact, allow me to put this in dog terms.

What decides the top dog? It’s strength. Pure and simple. Dogs are easy. “Are you stronger than me? Show it by outpowering me. If you are stronger, then you are the better choice for top dog, and I will listen. BUT, I am going to test you a million times over, first.” That’s me.

Are you stronger? I’m going to take over this conversation. Are you going to take it back? I’m going to step forward and tell those men to fuck off. Are you going to step forward even in front of me and play guard, or are you going to let me be the boss?

It hadn’t occurred to me this would come up, honestly, because DK — who was many years younger than me — responded the way I needed.

Take a hypothetical situation. (Really, never happened. Probably a good thing.) Say we’re walking down the road, the two of us, and we meet a group of guys. Those guys start making snarky comments. Now, DK is more likely than I am to let it roll off; she’s laid back like that. I, on the other hand, am a lot more likely to step forward and tell them to FUCK OFF.

Here is the test: does she let me do it and deal, or does she step forward?

DK was the type to step forward. A shadow there, just behind me. If they stepped forward, I knew she’d step up too. I was protected. I had my pack, and I knew she would help keep me safe. (Mind you, if I were alone and I said FUCK OFF I also knew I could keep myself safe, but it’s the thought that, in this case, counts more than anything you could possibly imagine.)

Another hypothesis, which happened frequently IMO. It’s evening. I’m freaking out about god knows what. I’m bouncing around the apartment and stressing myself out, feeling like there’s a beehive of distress under my skin.

DK grabs me and drags me down to the couch, physically. (She was a fair amount larger than I am.) She hangs onto me for a minute, and tells me it’s fine. Let’s watch a movie. It’ll be okay, and in the morning I’ll think better. I could fight that. I know that if I were truly upset, I’d snap and snark and she’d let go and we’d talk about it — but at the same time, I’d be sitting and already slightly calmer. If she’s right — and she often was — I’d settle, let it go, snuggle and trust her to take care of the world for a bit so that I could let go,and in the morning — whaddaya know? — it would be better.

There is a fine line between this sort of alphaness and assholiness. Here’s the thing, though: if DK never grabs me and pulls me down and shows me, physically, that she’s strong and tough and will take care of it and therefore keep me safe, I never believe it. I continue on being boss. If she does it at the wrong time and refuses to listen to my stress, that’s more like misogyny. (DK was very good at knowing this line. Some instinctive thing, I think. ;))

I do not want to have to be in charge all the time, but it’s in my nature to push. To try. To see if you’re really strong enough to take over, to trust that you’re really the best person for the job. It’s that dog thing. Are you really stronger than me? Because if not, I’m better suited to fight off the bad guys. It doesn’t really have to do with how awesome you are or how self confident you are. Of course, those play in; without the correct balance, it’s not right. But there’s something else there. An alpha dog thing, that I don’t yet have the language to describe. Something I want. Something I need to feel safe, like I can trust you to take care of it so that, at least in the evenings, I can relax and settle. And let me tell you, I’m very strong. If you can’t match me, this won’t work. If you can, then very quickly I’ll stop fighting. I might test, occasionally, but when you call me on it I’ll melt and grin and feel protected and loved because you can take care of me.

Along with that, I’d like someone fit, attractive, who likes going to plays, the ballet, opera, and other things (or will at least let me convince them), who likes dogs enough to deal with mine. That’s not asking much, right? >.>

Nick was very sweet. Probably the perfect thing for a retro, feminine femme lady. That’s not me. Being fierce is awesome, but sometimes I wish I were a little less so. >.<

J

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DK says:

I was about to extend condolences, because it sucks your date didn’t work out, but, uh…

If all your dates-that-aren’t end up with me getting a list of compliments that make me GRIN, I reckon it should happen much more often. πŸ˜€

Though I am sorry it didn’t work out with Nick. *scritches lots* But still, it was only your first go — there are lots of other butches out there, many of them laid-back tough, I’m quite certain. *grins*

(Oh hey! Were you right? Was he short?)



DK says:

Ack, she. I meant she. >.>

Curse these pronouns.



JB says:

*cracks UP* You’re a bad person, DK, a bad, bad person. ;-D

I’m thinking I need a new personal ad. One that says, “Looking for x…” Maybe see if that works! ;-D Also, I’m feeling more relaxed about the whole thing. I’d like to meet someone, but that “MUST DO IT NOOOOWWWW!” feeling is gone. Phew. πŸ˜€

(She was! A couple of inches shorter than me, and narrowly built. I did a mental “I KNEW it!” ;-D)

J



it’s awesome that you both realized that the spark wasn’t there (but too bad that there’s no spark!). it’s so awkward when one person realizes it and the other doesn’t! lol.

I love the way you describe your need for balance of alphaness and sweetness (i.e. non-assholery). you’re so self-aware! so many people don’t have a clue what they’re looking for/need in a person. (ahem, like me… I sort of figure it out as I go along!)



Maelie says:

That is sexy and I demand you write a romance novel along those lines. So there.



JB says:

…*DIES* It’s sort of what my femme/butch novella will be, if I ever get around to writing it. ;-D

J



JB says:

Man, seriously awkward when one person realizes it and the other doesn’t! I don’t help in that, either; I have a very good facade, so people think I’m having more fun than I am.

*grins* Believe me, this has been years and years of figuring it out as I go along! But I like to analyze, so that helps me learn quicker. πŸ˜‰ When something goes wrong, I sit down and analyze why I didn’t like it, so the next time I see it I know to just move on! It’s just a matter of elimination, right? πŸ˜€

J



Jen says:

Because it’s all about how you look . . .

You did look pretty hot. πŸ™‚

Now off to bed, and then tomorrow to work, and get the number of the guy my mom wants me to befriend and potentially fall in love with and marry because he’s tall, Jewish and also wants to go to nursing school . . . I love Jewish mothers.



[…] So, I’m not complaining. Well, mostly. But I am very aware that every time I head out of the house, I’m keeping half an eye out for who’s walking in my shadow. Doubly so when I’m walking with a partner who thinks she can relax, because company keeps predators at bay. And she’s putting her trust in me to keep her safe. […]



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