Wandering through the woods

I've been thinking about boundaries a lot lately, and the phrase "no means no." Our instinctive reaction when we hear any "no" is "But why? I *needed* that." That's not just in a kink context, or a sex context -- it's in every context.

It takes incredible emotional intelligence to hear "no," to breathe through the ouch of it, and then to think, "It doesn't matter why. It just matters that I figure out how to take care of myself now that I've been hurt by this person's "no."

In one month, I'm moving to California. My partner and I are struggling with that pain so much. Yesterday, I asked, "But why can't you come with me?" even after he'd made it clear he wasn't interested in moving away from New York. And he, in turn, has asked me, "But why can't you stay?" even after I'd explained my reasons. The truth is that we're not really asking "why?" because we want to know the other person's reasoning as to "why" -- we both know why. What we're really saying is, "I wish you could be with me; I need this connection." We both have our boundaries; we're just hurt, so that "why?" to a "no" is like... almost a battle cry.

It's so natural to ask "why?" because we think it's our right to have someone else's story explain away our pain. When we get hurt, we make shit up: this person rejected me because they've been hurt in the past. That person cancelled on me because they're going through a tough time. She's always been a little mentally unstable.

Our reaction to our little hurts should be the same: "Gee, I need better self-care and to not hang out with that person in the same way again." We don't have to get why other folks feel or do the things the way that they do. We don't have to understand why someone is saying "no" in bed, or why they're depressed or anxious. Sometimes shit just happens, and it doesn't have to be someone else's fault. Emotions are not logical; boundaries aren't always logical. It's okay to be hurt without justifying our pain with some narrative, or without putting anyone else down for it.

I was reading Mollena Williams' post on having her consent violated by a person who overrode her request for a condom and thinking about the reactions of folks in the comments section. "That person isn't a true dom!" Um, guys? Just because people are irresponsible and fuck up doesn't mean that their identities get invalidated. Just because your plumber messes up your piping doesn't mean they aren't a plumber. It doesn't even mean that they're a bad plumber -- it means they made a mistake, once, and hopefully learned to not do it that way again.

Non-condomed sex *does* feel physically better (though not necessarily emotionally closer, since better sex is about intimacy, and you can't get more intimacy with less willingness.) Mollena's violator asked her "why?" when she said "no," though -- and after she went along in the moment, she felt hurt afterwards. So it's obvious that "why?" can be hurtful. Perhaps, having seen that, when you next feel the urge to ask "why?" you should consider whether you're really honestly looking for negotiation (in which case, taking the time to consider what you actually need and asking in a less emotionally vulnerable moment is probably a better move), or whether you're just reacting in the moment to a strong need that is being denied to you.

I think it's emotionally much smarter to say, when you're hurt, whether out loud or to yourself: "Ouch; that 'no' hurt because my need is being denied." And then ask yourself: "how do I take care of it without pressuring someone else?"

With G and I, we curled up against each other and breathed in the scent of each other's skin until we were both calm again. No sex needed -- just the intimacy of acknowledging that we love each other, even with differing needs.

I have been quiet-ish, but I thought I should note I lost 4 lbs in a week, and have been exercising daily, as part of project Excellent Eventual-Preconception Health. I love the fact that there's a gym right downstairs; anecdotally, I notice that the women who are more in shape seem to have an easier time giving birth and pushing through pain, and with their pregnancies in general. I want that for my future child, whoever s/he is. I've also been calorie counting and watching whatever I put into my mouth. I'll figure out the sperm donor thing sometime within the next year or two.

In other news, last night, I scheduled my first OM in months. The shock of pleasure at that first touch was so wonderful; I felt like a flower turning towards the sun. And then... reader, I managed to climax so hard it felt like the white heat of it literally shot up my spine and out my chest like a canon. Twice. I woke up glowing with happiness. OM does a lot to move "stuck" energy, and man, have I ever been stuck.

I had forgotten how nice the OM community is, too; people are all "welcome back, long time no see!" and I feel ... very loved. Tomorrow, I go back to circles.

About two weeks ago, M. and I broke up. He chose to dump me by text message.

People do this sort of thing to each other all the time-- they burn bridges, they betray each other's ideals (and their own) and do thoughtless, unloving things. Some of that, sometimes, can be written up to lack of experience-- those of us who've never been burnt similarly or made this mistake before are more likely to do it. You get scared and you choose to handle things in the worst way possible.

The thing is, that's a wake-up call: learn to do it better next time, so you don't make that mistake more than once. I'm revisiting that concept again, as I heal from the pain dealt out, and my own fears of being "not-enough." The friends I need in my life are adaptable and learn from their errors. They usually wake up quickly, especially if they've dealt out pain to others. Refusal to learn and/or inability to pause to take a deep breath are not a desirable qualities, and I know my life is probably better without him, because we brought out those qualities in each other. Not that that diminishes the pain, but it makes the cut ties/ burnt bridges easier to breathe through.

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This is what I wrote on Fetlife a month ago, about difficult conversations (the latter half of this is partly cribbed from Reid Mihalko):

Here's why you should have that difficult conversation with your boss, your friend, your lover, etc. in person, and not over email/ text message....

(1) It builds goodwill. You are demonstrating that you are willing to make yourself available and be appropriately supportive for a conversation that is emotionally difficult for you. Email, on the other hand, says, "You are not worth my emotional effort or much time; I don't want to be there to face you or help you through your reactions." It does the opposite -- it knocks down bridges. Why should you bother with building goodwill with someone you might be breaking up with, or really don't want to bother with much? Because goodwill is what society runs on; it is the building block of connection. If you want to have civil conversations with someone, if you ever need a favor or if you genuinely want to "stay friends," you do friendly things.You don't burn your goodwill without a really good reason.

(2) As a corollary of (1), people surprise you with how understanding they are during hard situations -- I've gone to professors expecting condemnation for having a hard time during a course, and I've gone to bosses to honestly tell them, "Hey, I don't know how to deal with this," and I always get kindness back. They usually are willing to help fix things with me, but without demonstrating my genuine distress and willingness to Show Up In Person, I doubt I would have gotten nearly as much patience.

(3) Often, we don't know our own hearts til we start talking. If we're missing an angle, if we can get some negotiation going, that's almost always better than the Worst Case Scenario fears that parade through our hearts. Talking slows us down, and lets us take a closer look at what we actually want.

(3a) As I mentioned above-- you just get to hear each other better and don't miss cues and can provide non-verbal reassurance that you still like each other, in ways that a fear-ridden projection of a person cannot do. We often send out letters to our projections of people, rather than the people themselves. This is not to knock writing out a careful letter and then holding onto it as an outline for your thoughts when you have a conversation, but like much of life, clinging mercilessly to a pre-written script rather than adapting to what's actually in front of you is often a good way to miss something.

All of that said, I think people actually often get stuck on HOW to have a hard conversation, which is why you get a nuclear dump of emotions. It is really important to go stepwise, because people hear first things first, and if you start off with, "Dear John: I quit," then you've just lost your audience and any hope of help with your problem. Instead, try to answer, stepwise:

(1) What emotions are you feeling? Overwhelmed, worried, etc. (It's really important to say this first because if you can't describe your emotional state, you are a disorganized trainwreck going in).
(2) What have you been afraid of? (Describe the scenarios you've been afraid of -- this garners empathy)
(3) What are you hoping to get out of having the conversation? Suggestions, understanding, forgiveness...?
(4) What has been the problem?

Then you can negotiate from there.

As far as "breakups" go, incidentally, there are always levels to a breakup. What do you want? A breather, and then possible friends-with-benefits? A less-serious relationship? Careful avoidance? All of that gets negotiated, and you can't negotiate well if you've burnt your bridges.

Talk about what your dealbreakers and fears are (ideally, this should be happening throughout a relationship), so you don't effectively burn options that could have been there.

Takeaway lessons: take heart! If you can face your emotions, and organize your thoughts (read: take several breaths and a day if you need it), the person you need to talk to is likely on your side. You just need to talk to them in person.

This rotation officially ends in 2 hours. OB/gyn was clearly the best rotation I've had, despite having worked longish hours. Here's what helped make this rotation awesome:

(1) I love babies
(2) Being nice was rewarded and appreciated, both by patients and staff. I really like the staff at Maimo, and they appreciated that I went out of my way to try to make the work flow easier in every way I could
(3) I got a lot better at surgeries and leveled up a bunch at knots and sutures and basically understanding the whys in a C-section
(4) I got lunch breaks. It's so exhausting to work in internal medicine for 70 hour weeks where you don't get a freaking break *ever* -- here, if you needed the chance to breathe, you could take it.
(5) I learned a lot by doing and seeing -- basically every ob/gyn diagnosis under the sun seems to have passed through here.

I've spent the past few weeks stuffing my brain and working my arse off, and curling up with Max and squeezing in time with Sheridan (in between her Step 1 studying). It's felt amazing-- every day is a day I know what I have to do, and several days are days I wake up stunned to feel this light and happy.

I woke up next to Max this morning, after I crawled into bed post-night shift with him, and even though it was a Kim-vents-anxieties conversation, he was so remarkably calming and reassuring ("I trust that we'll work through it") that I actually woke up confused as to why I was ever worried about anything.

Do you remember how it felt to wake up to the very first time it snowed, and the windows were all frosted? The way the world looked, all etched and clear and fragile and beautiful in a new white coat? I'm older now and it's all a bit cynical, but I remember being little and waking up with that sense of awe and joy, and that is how Max makes me feel. That's not always a comfortable emotion, but it does imbue the world with wonder.

For now, it's time to burrow down and keep chugging through this studying.

I went to a suturing class today, after finishing up my final in cancer class. It was mindblowingly awesome how much hand-eye coordination it takes to keep things sterile while working on a banana. Next up: trying to do this while wearing latex gloves and covering the banana in lube, so that it approximates blood.

And yes, I hear you, filthy joke gallery.

I'm so excited about PA school! Surgery rocks.

Today, I came across this fascinating passage from Montessori: The Science Behind the Genius:

Mothers who were less involved with their children's interactions, and were less likely to respond to children's bids for attention and help, had children who were more likely to help, comfort and share with each other, and to engage in more enjoyable social interactions with others. (Crockenberg & Bryant, 1978)

That just about blew my mind. The science behind this makes some sense -- once you get a reward, after all, there is no more need to repeat the behavior unless you want the reward again. But if you're naturally inclined to do something, an external reward is only distracting.

When I first started teaching, I was told that one of the problems I had with teaching was that I was too apt to praise -- if you respond "good" to things that are only mediocre, people are less likely to strive for your praise.

I suppose a similar principle applies for even rewarding calls for attention -- people can figure stuff out a lot of times on their own, so they won't call for help as often if you don't acknowledge it as often (except through guided redirection, such as responding "dictionary" when asked to help define words.)

So. That's an interesting case for parenting by neglect being sort of useful, then. My mind is still blown, because it seems so unkind to directly ignore pleas for help -- but there is clearly a case to be had for impassivity.

The Museum of Natural History currently has this bioluminescence exhibit that sort of sucks, but is very educational. Hanging out with an old acquaintance there, we read about anglerfish, which dangle luminescent spiny bits of themselves (the luminescence comes from bacteria) to attract prey.

Anglerfish also apparently have very interesting mating habits. The males exist as tiny tiny forms that can only feed on the females. When the tiny male anglerfish find their female mate, they bite into her skin (with their huge jaws), and then release an enzyme that basically fuses the two bodies together, and then the male atrophies into a sperm-producing factory.

"Golly," said I. "I think I like our way of reproduction more. That's worse than cats with the barbed penises."

My neighbor reading the exhibit turned to me and said, "Along that line, did you know that ducks have corkscrew shaped penises?"

"No! I had no idea. What do the females do...?"

"Oh, you should read about it."

So I did.

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Also, apparently Photuris (nicknamed "vampire") fireflies attract male fireflies by flashing a "compatible female" mating signal light and then, when the innocent male approaches, she pounces and has him for dinner.

One day, when osirusbrisbane finishes building that space-time wormhole-ish transporter (because, as page_of_swords aptly points out, Heisenberg's uncertainty principle prevents that Star Trek copying-like version), I will teleport to his hypothetically-by-then already-built yarn-and-games shop, where I will join the legion groups of knitter-and-gamer couples out there. We will eliminate the age-old dilemma where "geeky boys that can't get girls" by sticking nice knitters in the same shop together with the gamer boys. Everyone wins. I will be surrounded by My People.

This weekend, I hung out with Jamie, and she introduced me to two awesome two-player games (actually, she introduced me to more, but these are the ones I liked most). The first was Ingenious (which has a cheaper travel version, too). The goal of the game is to advance all of your colored tiles on a hexagonal board; the player with the lowest-placed color loses. You get an extra turn for having advanced one of your colors all the way to the top of the counter.

The nice thing about Ingenious is that it involves both strategy and luck -- the colored tiles you grab are random, like in Scrabble, so it actually takes a bit of crossing your fingers for the right tiles. It's also a relatively tight two-player game, which is great -- often, two-player games are either decided in the first few moves, or they drag on too long, because they've been badly adapted from four-player ones.

We also played Blokus Duo. I'd played the four-player version, which is a lot of fun, because of trying to maneuver around three other people's tiles, but the two-player version is a lot faster and in some ways a better game because the tension is on from the beginning, rather than at midgame. (It's a smaller board -- 14x14 -- and you start off 5x5 from the corners, which is what makes the battling for territory move along so the tension is up from the beginning. Note: if you own the four player version, obviously it can be modded into a two player version by drawing a 14x14 square with a marker. You can make the 3p version a lot better by modding it down to an 18x18 grid, too).

So! In conclusion, if you want to play some shiny 2p games that are not endless Dominion rounds (*cough* not that we know anybody like that), try these! (Or Quirkle, possibly, though I wasn't as fond of that one for some reason). I believe both of these games also play pretty well for 3 or 4, (Blokus only when modded, though) so they're good party games, too.

At yesterday's cuddle party, the clarity of the opening welcome circle hit me again. A boundaries workshop, it made me feel completely aware again of where mine were, and of feeling free to cuddle OR NOT with whoever I wanted to.

"Have you ever had someone reach out and try to squeeze your shoulder or hug you without asking, even with the very best of intentions, and then had that feel wrong? It's because, well-intentioned or not, non-consent is about taking away your voice."

I feel like I'm finding my voice again.