Humiliation In Parts: Part Four

Humiliation in parts:  Part Four

So in my early thirties I came out as Pan - this does best describe my attractions.  However owing to several things I can say with certainty that I will never be with a cishet man ever again.

This has posed a bit of a dilemma for me as I have very very limited experience with women or (lets speak plainly here under the cut - tw named body parts and vague reference to sex act.  Not tagging)

  with vulvas.  Most of us want to be ‘good’ and to please our partners;  I’m extremely concerned with my lack of experience, because I would be devastated if I left my person unsatisfied.

I’ve had this discussion with people and I kind of feel fluffed off - “Just do what you like!” they say.

Ha ha ha.  About that.

I was with him since I was 18.  I had a significant amount of experience prior to that - but it was never focused on me, and lots of it was straight up horrible/traumatic.  The rest was, well... not exactly satisfying. 

What I’m trying to say is, because he did it so infrequently and I had very little quality experience prior to him (and with him), I don’t actually know what I like.  Which is humiliating on its own as an Adult(TM).

Another layer to that humiliation is wondering IF I like it.

I hated it with him:  Try lying on your back with your legs open for someone who isn’t really “into this” and stressing about if you’d shaved sufficiently, when the last time you checked for razor bumps and moisturized, what he’s going to say about how you smell, not to mention worrying that you’ve forgotten something on the grocery list and he might flip shit again and choke you out when he realizes you’ll have to go back to the store.  Don’t actually try it; just note it’s not exactly recipe for enjoyment.

I don’t know if I like oral.  Because of that I don’t know how to give oral. I also don’t know if I’m going to be able to try either without having embarrassing and debilitating flashbacks or panic attacks. 

He is just the gift that keeps on giving.

Ghosts

Driving in our his neighbourhood this evening. That tightness in my chest returned.  I held my breath when I drove past our his road.  

The neighbourhood is haunted.  Cursed.

“But you seem so put together.”

I’m not going to lie.  When I tell people that mentally I am a pile of disaster, there are plenty who are shocked.

It makes me want to laugh and cry at the same time.  You all get to see that I am actually a human puddle, and not at all put together - so I laugh.

But it also puts more pressure on me to keep up the facade, because apparently it’s working.  And that is just exhausting.

Humiliation in parts - Part Two

TW - named body parts, and, again, way too much information about me.  Lots of things not tagged again.

He told me that my vulva had a very strong odour, and he made reference to it frequently.  He told me he could smell me sometimes when I was fully clothed.  I was shocked as no one had ever said it to me before.  He guessed they (my previous lovers) didn’t tell me because they still wanted a piece, but they probably told their friends about it and laughed.

This was so humiliating and I became obsessive.  I’ll spare you some of the silly things I did, but I spent hundreds on products.

Eventually I consulted my doctor while I was getting a pap.  I apologized and asked if I could do anything about it.  He looked puzzled for half a second and said “Your ‘odour’ isn’t strong at all.  It’s pretty mild actually.  So, no, I wouldn’t do anything about it.”

I don’t entirely trust my doctor, so while at another clinic some time later I told the doctor there that my partner said I was “pungent.”  “Do they have a really sensitive sense of smell?  You fall on the milder end of the spectrum...”

I decided that the day he made me ask my doctors to smell my vulva was the day to start taking his criticisms with a grain of salt.   

All I can think of when I’m trying to add the bio is:  Hi, I’m broken.  Don’t make sudden movements when we’re in close proximity. I may lose my shit if we have sex. I will probably cry hard for no apparent reason.  In public.  And there’s a 60% chance I’ll ghost you without warning.  Oh and I like hiking, reading and food n shit.

I’ve just impulsively installed Tinder. Someone talk me out of this.

I try to explain this to people. They say they understand, but they don't really get it.