Archive for the ‘sex of the icky parental kind’ Category

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about this film, Stories We Tell since seeing it this week. Recommend.

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Truly gorgeous relationship advice from Heather Havrilesky in Ask Polly on The Awl. Read the whole thing, it’s wonderful.

People who fuck people then tell other people they want to fuck that the people they’re currently fucking are super fucking dull? These are bad people.

These are people who just don’t like other people. “Jesus, my girlfriend, I swear she breathes in oxygen and breathes out carbon dioxide sometimes,” they might as well say. Because when you go to bed with someone and wake up and eat together and go to bed together again and wake up? See, I’m already bored by both of you just writing it down. People get boring. An inescapable fact. PEOPLE. GET. BORING. People of all stripes, from all walks of life, get boring. Boring is not a reason for anything. You say someone you’re fucking is boring? The first thing I think is sweet god in heaven YOU my friend are BORING. Stop taking it out on everyone else.

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Smacking women out of love… or something. This montage of films that Jezebel put together of men spanking women when smacking was part of a romance trope is kind of extraordinary to watch.

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This is a fascinating article, as people’s stories of long-term relationships usually are.  You don’t have to be into open relationships, I’m not, to understand and relate to much of what Melissa Broder is talking about in this piece, “Thoughts on open marriage and illness” in Literary Hub. 

As much as anything it is about familiarity, desire and long-term relationships.

There is something about a long-term relationship that takes away the ability to see the other person. We stop seeing them as their own entity. We stop seeing them as a possibility, rather than a possession. Or we stop seeing the possibility of them not being there. The gap we have to cross to get to them is no longer there: the gap filled with doubt as to whether we are loved or whether he will text or whether he likes me. We stop fucking in that gap, or fucking from across that gap. We start fucking in some new shared space that we feel we own. Or maybe the shared space is still the gap but we fuck there for so long we stop seeing it.

I made conscious choices in the relationship I am in now to protect us against over-familiarity. But reconciling that with acceptance in its various forms, self-acceptance as well as of the messiness of life, things I am also actively pursuing, has been complicated.

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“Whenever you put your body online, in some way you are in conversation with porn.”

– Ann Hirsch

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Reasons to be apart: being sick, being tired, staying up late, skipping dinner, having my period and not wanting to tell someone I have my period, not shaving my legs/painting my nails/brushing my hair/pulling my stomach in when I’m naked, being lazy, being bad-tempered, letting ex-boyfriends text me, spending time with friends, masturbating before sleep, wearing PJs, being with my kids, writing. None of this I say; all of this I summarise as ‘being alone’. Why do you need all this time alone, he asks.

Reasons to be together: I love him, I want him, he doesn’t like when we’re apart.

(Notes from last year).

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