Sunday morning. Went to the coffee shop to get my coffee to-go so I could come back home to snuggle up in bed and write while watching the rain outside all day. Perfect!
I tried doing this yesterday with insta-coffee packets, but they just don’t do it for me. I always end up falling right back to sleep. The baristas at my coffee shop are all artists and writers and filmmakers and creative types, so they know the exact chemical equation to make a coffee that is going to keep a creative going through the day.
Anyway, how am I doing otherwise? Just grand, actually. I feel pretty good about my date this week. I really feel like I took control of that situation before it took control of me.
I’m not “hung up” on him, but he did leave me with several extremely very philosophical, deeply existential questions to chew over for some time. This is probably the best outcome we could hope for from all of that. How very Russian of him.
I think it’s okay to write about my debates on these questions, but I do have to be careful about what I say about him. He directly told me he doesn’t want me to write about him. I took that to mean, “Don’t use my real name, don’t write about my business, don’t transcribe our conversations, and don’t talk about what we do in the privacy of the bedroom.”
I’m cool with all of that.
Honestly, I could not explain to you what he does for work if I tried. He explained it to me like 7 times and every single time I was like, “You might as well be speaking Ukrainian right now because I don’t understand a goddamn word you’re saying.”
I think Finance might actually be the most boring topic ever as far as I’m concerned. Like, ugh. God knows what any of these people actually do for work. I try to listen when they explain and every time I just zone right out. Can’t do it. It just puts me right to sleep.
All I got from from that conversation was, “I’m the Boss.”
Okay. Grand. That much I understand. You’re the Boss!
Anyway, what was I writing about?
Oh yes, my deep, philosophical questions about love and sex. Haha, good thing I took an actual class in university called “The Philosophy of Sex and Love.” I am ready to debate these topics with myself.
The first thing I decided to do is separate out my “Old Life” from my “New Life.” Everything before I left South Dakota is no longer relevant to this conversation.
As far as I am concerned, my real life started when I went to the Yoga Shala in India in May 2024. That is when I feel I was “reborn” in a spiritual sense.
Everything before that was a different world, a different life, a different persona, a different version of me. Not relevant to this conversation at all.
This means the guys featured on the current season of the Island of Lost Guys are:
1. My Haryanvi ex from India who I was in a long-distance relationship with for a year and planned to marry before we broke up in Dubai at the beginning of this trip.
2. The Mexican-American guy I met in Bangkok the first time I ever went to the American Bar.
3. The British Guy, who I also met at the American Bar in Bangkok. We can all agree he is a stupid bloody wanker.
4. The Man with a Plan from Panama who Fixed my Canal. He was Panamanian-American. I also met him at the American Bar in Bangkok. This joke is funny because he really is an engineer IRL.
5. The Hot Beef Stew from Ireland. Also met him at the American Bar in Bangkok. Now we know why I was so obsessed with this bar! It was like hitting the jackpot! We found the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow over there!
6. My new Russian friend from Germany or Switzerland (or wherever it was) who I met in Hong Kong last week. Let’s just go out on a limb here and assume we will never see nor hear from him ever again. I even tried to google him and nothing came up, so I was like, “Yeah, no, let’s just leave that one alone before we really do have to call in Liam Neeson.” I’m not chasing that guy down. Hell nawwww to the naw, naw, naw.
Though I did have brief flirtations with three other men, none of them were interesting or memorable enough to make the final cut for this team. I didn’t sleep with them. I wasn’t interested in them. They didn’t even make it into the final elimination round. They got knocked out of the ring very early on.
Anyway, these Representatives from the Six Nations are the characters we are working with here in this debate. I willingly and consensually slept with these men. I had very different relationships with all of them. The feelings I felt for each of them were different. Now I have had this experience with The Russian, so I can look at each of these and figure out what’s going on here.
So this debate started as a result of a conversation I had with The Russian, which I think is fine to summarize here. If he doesn’t like it, he can complain directly to me. I know he will because he is like that.
As I mentioned, he is a Scorpio male. I am a Scorpio female. Our birthdays are very close together. The energy was matching. If you had been in the room with us, you would have felt the intense chemistry between us. It was very strong.
However, in Chinese astrology, he is a Dog and I am Dragon. Traditionally speaking, that makes us enemies. One could say that is represented by the whole Russian-American thing. It was also clear our values systems do not align, as I am very, very “woke” and he is decidedly not. We definitely had a classic Enemies-to-Lovers dynamic going on there.
So this Scorpion man was explaining to me what he values in a partner. I think we did align on a lot of it, but again, that’s just the inherent Scorpio nature at work. You know, everything about trust and loyalty. Marriage is a business deal. You need someone who is going to be your equal partner who is operating on the same level, even if there are differences between the two.
In this specific pairing, that would be represented by him being more traditionally masculine-coded, while I am more traditionally feminine-coded. But also, not really on my end, because I do behave and speak in ways that are traditionally more masculine-coded and that’s why so many people (especially men) dislike me.
That being said, I don’t want to be a man. I don’t see myself as a man. I’m very happy to be a woman and use my feminine charms to my advantage, especially now that I’m learning how to actually do that in a way that empowers me.
Back to the Scorpion thing. So everything he was saying about this made sense to me. I sat there and thought, “These are all of the reasons I was dating my Indian Guy. He presented himself as a strong alpha Scorpion man who wanted these things.”
In Indian astrology, my ex is a Scorpion. However, in the West, he is not a Scorpio. He is a Pisces. So it was only a matter of time before I stepped into the position of coddling him because he’s actually just an overgrown manbaby who wanted his mommy and expected me to be his mommy. I don’t want to be his mommy. The End.
So then I had my Latin lovers, both of whom were excellent in bed. They were in touch with their emotions, they understood the concept of mutual pleasure, they were open with their sexuality, and they were concerned about making sure I was enjoying myself.
Honestly, I felt things during those nights I’ve never felt in my entire life. I didn’t even know my body could do that! Very pleasant experiences over all. The emphasis here is definitely on the physical experience of Pleasure.
But again, they both got on planes and left. I think the Mexicali is dating some blonde chick now. Good for him. I’m jealous, but happy for him.
Meanwhile, Panamanian guy was too controlling for me. Like he didn’t just have a plan to fix my canal. He had a whole plan to fix my life. He’s a fixer. I don’t want a fixer. I want a partner. It was doomed to fail from the start.
The British Guy was just a wanker. He was awful! Ugh! He was so mean. He treated me like shit. He talked badly about me behind my back and to my face. He was incredibly disrespectful in every single way. I regret allowing him to behave like that towards me.
It’s a good thing my Irish Family showed up and literally physically removed me from him. They were right and I was wrong. They said, “You need to learn how to stand up for yourself. Be kind to yourself. Treat yourself better. You don’t deserve to be abused like that. You are a strong Irish lady. You need to learn that we Irish don’t EVER take shit from the English. Stop taking shit from this colonizer wanker.”
Enter Mr. Hot Beef Stew. Now, the feeling that I experienced when I was with him was very, very, very strong. It was very different than anything I’d experienced before. It felt cozy, safe, comfortable, familiar, protective, warm, loving, kind. Literally like eating a bowl of Irish stew while cuddled up in a warm blanket by the fire on a rainy day.
My theory now after learning more about my Irish heritage is that what this was is actually “Irish Love.” It was special, but not because he and I are a good match or soulmates or whatever. This is just the way of Irish people. The universe brought him into my life to open the door to Ireland, help me find my family, and discover history, culture, and heritage.
Now we circle back to our Russian Scorpion friend. How did I even describe my feelings about this date after explaining all of this? I don’t know. I don’t know what that was. That was like… some bizarre scorpion mating ritual. I don’t know what that was. It wasn’t any of these things I just explained. I can only say it was very intense.
But also… like… what’s the point of feeling any way about it? He got on a plane and left. Now he’s back to living his real life and I’m back to living my real life. That’s it. That’s the end. There is no more to this story and never will be.
My takeaway is that I’ve gotten enough experience that I recognized it for exactly what it was. I managed to take control over the situation before it took control of me. I put up my boundaries. I didn’t get fixated or obsessed or convince myself whatever we were doing was going to end with us falling in love. It was just sex.
I said, “Okay, we’re gonna do this, but we’re gonna do this in a way that I feel comfortable with and consent to. It’s not just about what you want. We all know you only want sex. So I’m gonna have the sex I want in the way I want so that I don’t walk away from this encounter with any regrets.”
In the end, I’m not sure that what I asked him for was really what I wanted, but I’m glad I tried it. Like I said, it felt like an experiment. It was all fully consensual. Like, okay, we did that once and now we know maybe it’s not for me after all.
Now, I’m not fixating on him. I am just philosophizing in a very general way, which is better for me. Clearly, there is some kind of internal growth happening here. That’s good.
Moving forward… what do I want? I guess I still don’t really know. I think the bare minimum for me right now is to find someone that is going to stick around longer than a couple of nights. Hard to find. Probably impossible.
I think it would be a good starting point to stop doing the one night stand thing and find someone who sticks around long enough to develop some level of intimacy. Sex is better with intimacy, or so I’ve heard. I wouldn’t fucking know, lol.
I gotta just find someone who is open to experimentation and willing to communicate directly about it so we can both enjoy ourselves. Then just let whatever happens just happen from there.
I definitely know I don’t want to do the whole marriage/family/house in the suburbs thing. That is not for me.
I also know I don’t want to be with someone who is going to try to control me or fix me. I would like a partner who accepts me as the neurodivergent weirdo I am and doesn’t try to change it or beat it out of me.
He must be also supportive of my writing career and maybe provide gentle guidance in the right direction when I’m stuck or blocked.
I definitely need someone who can provide the stability and structure that I desperately need but am clearly incapable of providing for myself.
Most importantly, they have to be fun. I don’t want someone who is super uptight and serious all the time. I want someone who comes home from work and is like, “Office mode off! Fun mode on!”
I don’t want someone who comes home from work after a bad day and starts screaming at me or using me as a punching bag. That’s how my parents treated me until I was 35. I’m over it!
I don’t care how bad your day was or how many assholes you had to deal with. You better not come home and take it out on me. I’m not taking that shit from a partner. I’ve been through too much therapy for that. I am not your scapegoat. Period.
So now we know… this is what I actually want. I can vocalize this now. That is progress!
Overall, I feel pretty good about my time at SEA so far. It’s not what I expected it to be, but I’ve learned so much about myself and who I am and what I want.
I’m finally starting to find some sense of an identity that isn’t entirely built upon my intense collective of negative, traumatic past experiences.
I’m making my own choices, even if they aren’t always great ones. I’m learning from my mistakes. I’m in control of my destiny. No one is there calling the shots or telling me what I can/should do. I’m learning how to be free and independent and exist on my own.
This is it. I’m free. I’m on my own for the first time in my adult life. It’s hard, but I’d rather have it this way than be trapped in my parents’ house back in SD cleaning up everyone else’s messes while being screamed at and sabotaged and actively denied the ability to leave on every occasion possible.
I just never want to be trapped in a situation like that ever again. If that means avoiding the “traditional marriage and family” plan, then so be it. I really don’t want that. I already did it and I hated it. I don’t want to stay at home with a child all day and make snacks and do crafts and watch cartoons and Disney movies and read the same books over and over again.
I don’t want to be trapped in a big old haunted house with no option to leave just so someone can come home at rail on me every single night because they refuse to get the therapy they desperately need. I will not go through that again. I will not!
I want to be an adult out in the adult world doing adult things. I want the perks of a relationship. I want fun trips and nice gifts and good sex and emotional intimacy and direct communication and to be in an equal partnership where both of us are healthy and happy and feel heard and seen and understood.
So, none of these previously mentioned men are going to do that for me. However, I am happy that I met all of them and grateful to them for teaching me this lesson in their own ways.
Well, now all of that is settled. We got the Love & Sex question sorted out. What are we going to do about this whole Money & Career question? It’s fucked. Shit is fucked. The world is fucked.
I think… I really just want to go back to school now. Anyone got an extra $20-$50k USD laying around to help me out? Ha ha ha. Just kidding, of course.
Or am I?