Moon Love

Since Rhonda’s death, and subsequent Celebration of Life, when I hear friends who I myself introduced to her, and who barely knew her, laugh and talk of her last few years, I just want to scream.

When they speak of the bond they shared over music, conversation and coming out, I am overwhelmed with such a raging sense of betrayal, broken trust and abandonment that the loss of my friend itself has become almost secondary.

Almost.

In my woundedness I fell into a place of childlike pain and reflection. Of helplessness and lonesomeness. Lost in despair of broken trust and the pain of abandonment. I cried so hard and so deep and felt such pain that the bowels of heaven and earth must have shifted in empathy to make room for more of my tears.

And I started talking to the moon. Again.

Then I found this beautiful read.

An imagery that captured my soul and spoke to my 4 year old self. Funny how stuff just shows up when your heart needs it most. It’s not luck, or magic or coincidence. It’s the Universe at work with the law of attraction.

In reading Jessica’s story, which found me online, I recognized that I too have talked to the moon since childhood. Private conversations that honor my deepest feelings. Existing otherwise silent on a plane buried deep within my 4 year olds recognition of being unloved and unwanted. It is a hurt that has no remedy. No platitude. No fix. Buried deep in my psyche, entrenched by the magnificent volume of sheer repetition.

I don’t know if I can ever heal this wound. It bleeds with such little provocation. So deep and raw is the source.

My friend, my truest sister, left me alone to suffer a cruel punishment for a crime I didn’t commit but one I will pay for whenever I think of her now. Hear her name. Or learn of another life experience I should have shared with her. The suffering is acute. The questions endless. The pain familiar. The hurt stings my eyes in overflow.

It is not merely a jealousy that others were privy to her company the last few months of her life and I was not. It is the deeper, unbearable knowing that I was not wanted.

And I have nowhere to put that.

Nowhere at all.

So, it hangs in the quiet luminescence of conversation with the moon.

moon_love_1

I just found and fell in love with the mind of Stella! ❤️

View story at Medium.com

She just resonated BIG time today. All week has been a struggle with one thing or another blog related. Ugh. I think she might have a wee drinking problem lol, but otherwise I love what she’s written in this post.

Setting Of Intentions

Last week on The Buddha,  I wrote this in a puff of deflated, uninspired breath.

Well, This Week Kinda Sucked

Finding Stella J. McKenna today on Medium was kismet.

It’s a great post!

Reminds me not to take myself so seriously. And we ALL need a reminder of that sometimes.

See ya soon!

Buddhism. Why Not? Pt 1

FYI – Every now and then I post something from my other blog here. It’s a one way ticket. I don’t post this stuff there. So, yeah. You can feel kinda special lol, cuz you are!


page_letters-COMINGOUTdidn’t grow up with Jesus. Or Mary. Or Joseph. Steepled churches, stained glass windows and the Bible were all kind of a mystery to me when I was a kid. I remember attending a black Baptist church when I was about 3.  A small, white, one-roomed building with deep mahogany pews and sunlit walls. It was where the colored congregated every Sunday to listen to The Preacher.

Shiny, brown-skinned folk strutted spectacular in their Sunday best and exotic plumage. A rare form of peacock indeed. I must have been fostered temporarily with God-fearing folk who felt the need to introduce me to the Lord, hence my memory of this Baptist church. I don’t remember ever meeting him though. What I do remember is being terrified by the wailing and moaning and fainting in the presence of Praise-Him-Hallelujah.

And the singing was kinda cool.

To be honest, Religion kinda scares me.

The idea of some omnipotent, wrathful, White GOD living in the sky who, if displeased by your behavior, will strike you down and condemn you to burn in the everlasting bowels of Hell ~ FOREVER ~ is just a little friggin terrifying to me. And truly horrific things have been done in the name of Religion since the beginning of time. But Religion is way too big a topic for this little blog, and it’s not my intention to offend or discriminate anyone or their belief system.

So, before I go on, I have to qualify that when I refer to Religion in this post, I am referring to Christianity.

I’m Canadian. I live in Canada. Love my country! And in Canada, Christianity is the largest religion. We don’t really have an official religion because we totally support the worldview that one religion is not the sole and exclusive source of Truth. We’re very open-minded about this sort of stuff and I’m down with that. Our right to choice of religious belief is a huge part of our political culture and makes me proud to be part of such a socially progressive nation. I think that’s why so many folks love us. And want to be us. Yay, Canada! We is diversified. 🙂

Having said that, Christians represent 67.3% of the population, with the Catholic Church having the most faithful attendees. Interestingly enough, according to the 2011 Census, (information about religion is only collected once every 10 years), Islam is the second largest religion in Canada, practiced by 3.2% of the population.

I think I’m a little surprised by that statistic.

But, somewhere in between the Christians and Muslims living in Canada, 23.9% of our total population has NO Religion at all. 

And this two-part post is sorta-kinda-loosely for those people.

The 23.9%.

Of which I am most definitely ONE.


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As a brown child growing up in middle-class, white suburbia, I was faced with reactions to my difference. A lot. They were thinly veiled beneath civility and politeness. But they were there just the same. By the time I was 7 and officially adopted, I had developed a not-so-fragile thicker skin. Curious stares no longer affected me. As much.

We didn’t have a lot of religious overtones in our house. My adoptive Mother was Armenian and her loosely termed religious bent was Presbyterian. My Dad is Welch and at some point adopted the Bahá’í Faith; a teaching of the essential worth of all religions, and the unity and equality of all people. Mom kinda poo-pooed his choice of Religion, but I don’t think she really cared one way or another. Religion was the least of their differences. She may not have been big on Religion, but I do remember going to Sunday School in her Presbyterian church.

Sunday School was very confusing to me.

All the beautiful, colorful illustrations in the Children’s Bible Storybooks depicted white angels, a white God, and a white Jesus. Admittedly, he was a little tanned. 😉 And all the children gathered around Jesus on those pages? Yeah, they were all white too. Apparently, brown children didn’t exist when Jesus walked the earth.

Without a physically identifiable biblical figure or any sweet, angelic-looking brown-skinned children in the storybooks, I was lost in a sea of Whiteness. I could not make any spiritual connection. Once I asked my Sunday School teacher why no-one in the stories looked like me. She didn’t really have an answer. Not one that satisfied me enough to make me feel included and deserving of God’s Love.

How friggin sad is that?

It was the late 60’s. Civil movements and equality were definitely on the rise. Protests against wars were being staged. Causes and reasons were abundant for every situation. The world was changing in powerful ways. But in Small-Town-Anywhere, Canada, no-one had an answer for why there were no brown children in the Children’s Bible Storybooks.

Sunday School quickly became just another place where my difference was obvious. Where my Not Enough-Ness took root. Where I didn’t really belong. I was the only brown kid in my Sunday School, in my classroom,  in my neighborhood, and in my family. Everyone could see that I was different. And I could see them seeing my difference. Good Christian parents pushing down the pointing fingers of their Good Christian children or shushing them if they were too inquisitively loud about my difference. It didn’t matter that in my home, skin color was of no concern.

The world judged.

After services, everyone gathered for a few minutes in front of the church so the adults could say their Hello’s and How Are You’s. Share news, invites and quietly judge each-other. My Mom was a terrible gossip and she reveled in pointing out the hypocrisy of these God-fearing people. She really had little use for people in general.

The kids would run around, tagging, laughing and generally blowing off whatever do-good thing they had learned that morning. I usually stood by myself. Close to Mom. It was awkward. None of those kids were neighbors or friends. I wasn’t a part of the click. One Sunday, as I waited patiently for Mom to stop chatting, this little girl about 5 years old ~ me being a grown up 8 years old ~ walked up to me and without a word, pushed her finger into my cheek, and dragged it down my face. Then she looked at her finger in surprise.

She thought my brown would rub off.

Yeah.

That was pretty much the last day I formally attended church.

The following weekend, my Mom gave me a choice.

I chose to stop attending Sunday School.


Part 2 ~ Next Tuesday. At The Buddha Neuron.  If you like this, check it out! 🙂

Till then…

OWN YOURSELF!

ACCEPT, EMBRACE & LOVE

EVERYTHING THAT MAKES YOU YOU!

And Namaste your ASS off!

emoji_siggy-COMINGOUT

Photo Inspired #1

Contextual

The words

Are written

Unspoken.

Etched deep

In every curve

And shadow

Of my body.

Asleep.

And awake.

Inside.

And out.

Awaiting a reverent discourse.

Can you read me?

Feel me?

Comprehend

These words

You can’t hear me saying?

Trapped in the silence

A prisoner of my skin?

The need is barely restrained.

Just Cuz I Can :)

Here’s a link to my latest Buddha Neuron post. I’m pretty proud of what I’m doing on the other side lol. I’m also stressing about what I’m doing on the other side. It’s a huge learning curve for me and I’m working really hard to practice what I preach and NOT freak the fuck out…Oooommmm.

Pulled an all-nighter and need to go to sleep! This business start up stuff is STRESSFUL!!! Deadlines are brutal!!! I will be back when I’ve had some sleep lol. I will say however, that I am so damn proud of you, Tikeetha! And super envious and in awe!!! You seriously ROCK! You have to let me know how you manage to post something every friggin day! I am struggling with 2 X a week right now lol.

Then I remember. I just started. Literally.

And I calm down.

Sigh 😉 ❤

I’m good.

Namaste xo

I Need My Space Back :)

So…after debating on this issue for the past week, on and off, I have decided that Coming Out Crooked needs to go back to it’s original format. My reasons are simple. I need my space back. This space was never meant for business consumption. It was meant to be a personal space for me to work out my shit. To capture the journey of my coming out and my life, with all the pain, the sadness, the joy and the love that has been in. I think it’s important that I keep this space for me.

This message is specifically for the followers that have joined ‘my tribe‘ in the past few weeks based on the positivity messages posted here in my JUST DO YOU newsletter. I have a new home for those messages, and for the newsletter, and it’s intention is clear. If you’d like to continue to follow me on that particular journey which is catered more to positive personal development and the power of self-talk, then please find me here!

www.thebuddhaneuron.com

It’s a brand new site. A new venture. A new journey. And it’s literally being built as I write this lol so it will be changing constantly until it’s all done! But the BLOG is up and running and new posts will appear on Tuesdays and Fridays. Right now, it’s where my true focus is so please feel free to join me. Everyone is invited lol. The Buddha Neuron is just as much a part of me as Coming Out Crooked. It just has a different focus. I’m a Gemini. Nuff said! Lol

That’s it!

Have an AWESOME weekend! And perhaps I will see you on the other side!

hugging_face_emoji

 

Women Should Have Sex With Other Women To Have More Orgasms…

Hey lol…this is STILL Coming Out Crooked! And I’m just doing me 😉

So, I was perusing my FB page and all the newsfeeds in it, and a friend of mine had this posted on her wall. The headline got my attention – Women Should Have Sex With Other Women To Have More Orgasms: According To Science…

Ya. That’s what I said. *grin*

Now, I have to preface this by saying that lately, I have been doing some research into what type of BLOG POST TITLES are the most catchy. The kind that will get folks like us to click on the caption and read on. There are all kinds of theories on this. It’s a freaking science now apparently and everybody has an opinion!

However, the general consensus seems to be that if the blog/newspaper/media caption has SEX or A TO DO LIST in it, like “10 WAYS TO GET YOUR PARTNER TO FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU ALL OVER AGAIN” or “5 WAYS TO GET YOUR LOVER TO PLEASE YOU IN BED” or “HOW TO KEEP IT UP AFTER 50”, then it’s pretty much a given that we will take action and click to read more. And yes, those were all real headlines. And yes, the list thing works on anything that’s not sexual lol. It’s just a thing, ya know? And it works!

And today, just NOW, I fell victim, once again, to the power of a well-phrased article title lol! Of course, if you don’t have an interest in the subject, no amount of catchiness is gonna get you to click.

I had an interest. Catchy won. I clicked. 😉

But, even as the page was loading, I had to laugh. A little. C’mon! I know I’ve been hearing this for some time now. Even before I came out! Still, maybe it’s news to some! But did we really need yet ANOTHER study – a HUGE NEW STUDY at that – to tell us this?

I’m always amazed at what constitutes as news these days!

But, hey, the theory behind catchy article title-ing seems correct! This particular title got my attention! Lol and I know it got yours, or you wouldn’t be reading this! Crazy huh? What a world lol 🙂

So, as a reward for your curious clicking here is the actual article.

I must admit, it was a little anti-climactic lol, and to be honest, I feel like it was a little misleading. But the Facebook newsfeed title of Women Should Have Sex With Other Women To Have More Orgasms: According To Science did the trick. It got me to read on! And that was the point. Wasn’t it?

And don’t get me started on imagery! Whole other blog post!

Latta lovelies ❤


Heterosexual women orgasm less than any other demographic when having sex, study says: There’s a huge gap between lesbian and straight women.

woman-orgasm

A huge new study has found that heterosexual women have fewer orgasms during sex than any other demographic, and it’s notably fewer than heterosexual men.

Researchers from Chapman University, Indiana University, and the Kinsey Institute studied over 52,000 Americans of different genders and sexual orientations to look into how orgasm frequency varies.

The study has drawn some interesting conclusions – perhaps unsurprisingly, heterosexual men were most likely to say they usually or always orgasm when they’re sexually intimate, with 95 per cent agreeing.

The next group most likely to orgasm were gay men (89 per cent) followed by bisexual men (88 per cent).

Disappointingly for women of all sexual orientations, all three male demographics came above the female groups.

Amongst women, lesbians orgasm most when sexually intimate, with 86 per cent reporting that they usually or always do.

This is followed by bisexual women – a huge drop down at 66 per cent – and finally straight women at 65 percent. It seems when a man is added into the mix, the likelihood of orgasm significantly decreases for women.The researchers believe that these “orgasm gaps” have come about as a result of sociocultural and evolutionary factors.

But they also found out what women who orgasm more frequently than others tend to do to get there, so if you want to increase your likelihood of having an O moment, this is what they recommend:

  • More oral sex
  • Longer lasting sex
  • Higher relationship satisfaction
  • Asking for what you want in bed
  • Praising your partner for what they do in bed
  • Calling or emailing “to tease about doing something sexual” – presumably a text or Snapchat works too
  • Wearing sexy lingerie
  • Trying new sexual positions
  • Anal stimulation
  • Acting out fantasies
  • Incorporating “sexy talk”
  • Expressing love during sex

According to the study authors: “Women were more likely to orgasm if their last sexual encounter included deep kissing, manual genital stimulation, and/or oral sex in addition to vaginal intercourse.”

The researchers also looked into why there was such a large difference between the frequency of orgasms for lesbian and straight women, concluding that lesbian women likely have a better understanding both of female anatomy and clitoral stimulation.

They also pointed out that lesbian women are better at taking turns in the bedroom than straight men.

But the high rate of orgasms of lesbian women should be encouraging for straight women.

“The fact that lesbian women orgasmed more often than heterosexual women indicates that many heterosexual women could experience higher rates of orgasms,” the authors write.

So it could be worth trying some of the above if you want to have more pleasure in the bedroom.

Hmmm…just sayin 😉

Happy HUMP day lol xo

Till next time,

Own Yourself!

Accept, Embrace & Love

Everything that makes you YOU!

Namaste your ASS off! ❤

http://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/love-sex/heterosexual-women-orgasm-sex-less-other-demographics-lgbt-lesbian-gay-study-chapman-indiana-a7595181.html?cmpid=facebook-post#gallery