T, I called him that because I couldn't pronounce his name, and I still can't. He's not from here and the sounds are not in our vocabulary.
T taught me about the fact of life part of a sexual encounter--you want it, you get it. It wasn't that brutally horny American man thing, just a natural urge to fill.
That helped me to relax.
Unfortunately, for our, and my, sake, I was not dilated enough to have sex with him at the time I was with him. We tried, and even though both of us knew the situation, I found it to be on the humiliating side. He was understanding and patient with me. I love him for that.
He had to move back to his country 6 months after we met. I wish I had known what a gift he had given me, because I would have done things so much different.
At this point in time I was just starting my first job and in between living situations, so back with the parents for a while.
Over the next few years, I had relationships which I would term a just plain odd. Between married young men, married older men, lots of partying, and my work at a state psychiatric institution, life was just odd.
In retrospect, I think all of those odd relationships fueled me with the relationship depth I was capable of handling. They never went anywhere, and had no future. That was just the way it was.
I was still dilating, just not so frequent. The emotional stain on that was too hard to deal with.
Monday, March 21
Saturday, March 19
Gone, but not for long!
Sorry I have neglected this blog for over a month. I will be back on tomorrow..
Sunday, January 23
Dilation Treatment 2
Honestly, it has been hard for me to come back to this blog and write more at this point...it's the emotions of the dilation that kill me.
But I will plug on. Girls, ladies, if you are reading this and relating, I am so hurting with you. Seriously.
So I started the dilation, and as I mentioned earlier, that was incredibly emotional.
It's hard to hold the dilator in your hand down there, and apply pressure for 20 minutes at a time. It hurt my wrists. There's the physical part of it, but oh the emotional part of it was more difficult. I tried all sorts of different positions, laying on my bed, sitting on it with my underwear and pants on. I tried sitting in a cozy chair pushing on it with my clothes on and a blanket over me. There is no comfortable position. That helped but most of my underwear got stained somehow from the Astroglide. A tinge, that whenever I saw them, was just another reminder of my freakish condition (or so I thought). I tried to dedicate certain pairs of underwear to the dilation. Astroglide is the best lubricant for this process (I tried several and Astroglide is MD recommended). The problem with Astroglide (and really all lube) is that if you don't move the dilators around a bit, they will stick to your skin and pull on it when you try to remove it.
I worked my way up the dilator sizes over the course of the summer, but I was by no means done. I headed back to school for my final semester. My roommate, one of my best friends, knew about what I was doing and she was supportive. It wasn't easy doing it in college, but I managed.
I had no shortage of guys who liked me, but I always wondered if they really knew what I was like, would they really like me? My insecurity reigned, but I still went out a lot. I remember distinctly running into Matt in the stairwell one evening. He said he wanted to be with someone who disliked kids, cause he didn't like them. I'm thinking to myself at that time, just because I can't have kids does not mean I don't like them. I don't know what the heck he was trying to accomplish with that statement.
One of those crazy guy times happened when my friend John asked me to entertain his friend Scott while he worked in Palm Springs. Scott and I went out in John's car, had a great date, and then he wanted to go out to a bar. We walked over to the Sports Tavern, where he proceeded to flirt with a lot of other girls, and I met Mr.T. Mr. T was a Norwegian exchange student who was here learning about American culture. Mr. T invited me to a party a few days later. I showed up, saw him, and then went off with another guy that night. My time with Mr. T was by no means over.
I'll pick up on that next time.
But I will plug on. Girls, ladies, if you are reading this and relating, I am so hurting with you. Seriously.
So I started the dilation, and as I mentioned earlier, that was incredibly emotional.
It's hard to hold the dilator in your hand down there, and apply pressure for 20 minutes at a time. It hurt my wrists. There's the physical part of it, but oh the emotional part of it was more difficult. I tried all sorts of different positions, laying on my bed, sitting on it with my underwear and pants on. I tried sitting in a cozy chair pushing on it with my clothes on and a blanket over me. There is no comfortable position. That helped but most of my underwear got stained somehow from the Astroglide. A tinge, that whenever I saw them, was just another reminder of my freakish condition (or so I thought). I tried to dedicate certain pairs of underwear to the dilation. Astroglide is the best lubricant for this process (I tried several and Astroglide is MD recommended). The problem with Astroglide (and really all lube) is that if you don't move the dilators around a bit, they will stick to your skin and pull on it when you try to remove it.
I worked my way up the dilator sizes over the course of the summer, but I was by no means done. I headed back to school for my final semester. My roommate, one of my best friends, knew about what I was doing and she was supportive. It wasn't easy doing it in college, but I managed.
I had no shortage of guys who liked me, but I always wondered if they really knew what I was like, would they really like me? My insecurity reigned, but I still went out a lot. I remember distinctly running into Matt in the stairwell one evening. He said he wanted to be with someone who disliked kids, cause he didn't like them. I'm thinking to myself at that time, just because I can't have kids does not mean I don't like them. I don't know what the heck he was trying to accomplish with that statement.
One of those crazy guy times happened when my friend John asked me to entertain his friend Scott while he worked in Palm Springs. Scott and I went out in John's car, had a great date, and then he wanted to go out to a bar. We walked over to the Sports Tavern, where he proceeded to flirt with a lot of other girls, and I met Mr.T. Mr. T was a Norwegian exchange student who was here learning about American culture. Mr. T invited me to a party a few days later. I showed up, saw him, and then went off with another guy that night. My time with Mr. T was by no means over.
I'll pick up on that next time.
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