As I sit at a little table in a corner of the bookstore-cafe patio listening to the sounds of this local band — rock with a hint of punk — I can finally feel something within me soften, relax. The notes hit exactly that spot, that frequency of my own emotions right now: an intense painful mix of hurt and anger. For which punky rock music sounds just perfect. I can feel the knot inside me first resonate with the pain and anger in the songs, and then melt. As I mark the rhythm of the music, of the drums, with my hands, my eyes close, and I can feel my lips twist into a smile as my whole body relaxes.
Then, after a short break at the end of this local band’s set, the main artist for the night starts his act. And I crack up. He seems to be taking himself so seriously but to me he looks like a parodic version of Bob Dylan in his “black-suit-black-sunglasses” phase and I just cannot take him seriously. And for the first time in gods only know how long, I’m laughing — not out loud to his face, but with a relieved lightness inside me. I exchange glances with the gay runner friend who’s with me at the show: we’re both ready to go for dinner. Outside the bookstore-cafe-music venue, out in the fresh evening air in the street, as we walk automatically in one direction and then realize that food is the opposite way, I can feel the lightheartedness take hold of me more wholly. I laugh. And finally I feel the heaviness and darkness of the past week, of the past five or six weeks, drop away.
I knew I had been holding a lot in the past weeks. I have been feeling a terribly heavy and dark load on my shoulders, in my heart recently. For weeks, life has felt like a never-ending string of duties, chores, homework. Lots of them chosen by myself, lots of them part of my own value system and of my life choices, like supporting my friends in need, getting more concretely involved in activism, focusing on doing a good job at work, and starting therapy again to solve some old issues that I can no longer avoid. Part of this hyperactivity of mine in “things that need to be done now” has been the natural consequence of my own values and life choices (which I don’t regret); part of it has been a reaction and a taking ownership of “my own shit” after the difficult emotions triggered by the rejection I got from the gay climber a few weeks ago. But despite being actions or reactions aligned with my own values, steps that I am consciously and willingly choosing to take, they are nonetheless heavy, painful, even overwhelming sometimes. Life has been feeling terribly heavy, dark, and joyless lately.
So the lightness at the music show, the reprieve I got this weekend was an unexpected, and very much needed, change of pace. A sliver of light in the dark, some lightness in the heaviness.
The other thing that helped bring some sense of lightheartedness and play, and even ego-boost, this weekend was the sexting with a bisexual cis-guy on Tinder. Ten days ago, I found myself thinking for the first time ever that maybe I should seek the services of a sex-worker*. It wasn’t just the intense sex drive (which admittedly cannot always be satisfied by myself alone). It was also, and especially, two other cravings that have gotten really unbearable at times. On the one hand, the desperate need to be touched by someone else, to be touched by someone who isn’t only, always just myself. On the other, the need or desire to explore, to explore myself in other ways, because that’s what sex is to me most of the time: a way for me to explore myself, my body, my gender in ways that are lighter, more lighthearted, more playful than what I usually do.
There it was again, as sharp as ever, my need for playfulness, for some lightness in my life. A need that has been going unsatisfied for me for years at this point. And then a week later, this past weekend, the unexpected connection on Tinder. It was a surprise, partly because I had given up the idea of anyone ever liking me physically/sexually again, and partly because I’ve never really done any sexting. And at first it felt weird, I could feel all the old “prudishness” coming up for me, deep conditioning that made me feel awkward, almost ashamed. There is was, my “over-disciplined brain” telling me yesterday that I shouldn’t be wasting my time this way, that “I should be getting ‘something useful done’ this afternoon”. But then I finally let go. I finally allowed myself to just enjoy. I felt my mind let go of the grip, I felt my body relax and enjoy. I felt some of those physical cravings finally getting some long-needed and long-awaited satisfaction at last.
Rationally, I knew how much I needed this. But I didn’t really know until I got some of those cravings actually satisfied yesterday. I had forgotten the glow, the lightness I feel inside of me when these physical needs of mine get met. But also psychological and emotional needs because, at the end of the day, this guy is appreciating me physically & sexually as a man, providing that ego-boost that lately I had been needing so badly. I know this won’t last both because it’s nothing “serious” with this particular guy and partly because it’s yet another of my “escapes”, giving myself a break from reality before I have to go back to it and face the heavy, dark facts. But I got a break this weekend, I got some lightness, some shared pleasure, a little reprieve from the recent hardships, and that has been helpful even in its inherently temporary nature.
*{NOTE: I think there is nothing wrong with sex-work as long as it is performed by free, willing, consensual adults in ways that ensure the safety and good health of the parties involved.}
The Little Prince and the Fox 