Feminism and me

I am a feminist. I love being a feminist. I love standing up for what is right and supporting people.

I have started volunteering with the rape crisis centre and I love it. It is so interesting to share experiences with each other in a safe environment that show us that we are assaulted in one way or another and it has become normalised to a point that we don’t even discuss it anymore.

Wolf whistle here, stalking there, dates that get too gropey, men that don’t hear “no” and we have a narrow (if we are lucky) escape. It really worries me, it hurts my soul.

All men can be rapists. That’s a fact. They have the anatomy and the strength to overpower us and take advantage. If they have that in them they probably don’t even know. They see other men that attack as “them”; the bad guys. Then they go and lie to a girl to get her to sleep with them and don’t see how they are bad guys too.

I am fed up of the double standards, the victim blaming and the way that when each and every woman told her story she felt like she had to explain her clothing choice and all the precautions she had taken before her attack to PROVE that it wasn’t her fault.

I have been told it is normal to go through an “I hate all men” phase. I am fighting it with all my might and I know that a lot of women attack and undermine eachother and there is a lack of education and yadda yadda yadda. But seriously. I am in pain with all the stories, feelings and emotions.

There is a positive. I have met some of the most wonderful women in the training group and I am excited to get cloer to each and every single one of them. We are all so kind, thoughtful and supportive. At this point they are my Vancouver family and I don’t know what I would do without them.

It is sad that it takes a common enemy to bring people together.

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Sinking in

It is sinking in. Some sort of delayed reaction occurred I believe.

I had told him and told myself that I don’t want children. I don’t know. I was talking to my Australian friend and I realised something.

I can blame him sometimes because I want to be enough for my “one” but on another hand I know I can’t.

I saw what he wanted for a second. He wanted the person that he loved, huge in bed with his big meaty hands rubbing the belly and feeling the baby kick while quietly talking baby names. He wanted to know that that baby is half of his genetics and half the woman that he loves.

I can’t say that it doesn’t break my heart knowing that I will never have that with any man that I love. I will never have that choice. I want that choice.

I don’t know why it has taken me so long to realise that I would like this option. It is like I just turned all those feelings off to protect myself. I decided that I didn’t like being around children, that I didn’t want them. I did it to protect myself from dealing with the issue of not being able to have them in a healthy, sensible way.

Look. This isn’t me saying I want children. It is me saying that I really don’t know how I feel. This breaks me.

Relapse

So no more dates with the crohnsie  have happened. Much to my dismay. Not going to lie… even thinking about him makes me get a tad excited.  Yummmmmmmm.

Saturday the fireworks were on. I ended up going with the Irish fella Tipp. We slept together.  The funny thing is, he is so eager. Mad about me in fact and I am really not bothered.  I have told him how I feel so don’t worry, I am not leading him on. But yeah. The sex was grand. He came so quickly it was actually hilarious.  He did however make it up to me. And he did a fairly good job at it so one cannot stay mad for long.

He had brought one condom only and when he wanted to go again and suggested no condom. I literally kicked him out of the apartment.  That will teach him.

Thing is. And yeah. I am sick of it too. I just want to talk to pc. Again.  At this point it feels like I miss my best friend. I wish I had an indication on whether or not he felt the same way about me. I messaged him after Tipp left asking why he hadn’t contacted me and telling him it would be the last time I messaged him if I didn’t hear back. Nadda. Absolutely nadda.

Done and done

So yeah. Big blow up. It is done.

I sent a message about eight hours later apologising for my part in the argument and expressing my hope that one day we would be friends but I got nothing back.

Thing is. I found myself searching for a one way ticket home for January. And I am not going to lie. It was for him. He said he still had all the feelings for me. He loves me and I love him. But I did my usual thing of pushing too hard and now he just isn’t here. I miss him.

Anyway. I think the homesickness is also getting to me a little. I haven’t not had that horrid sinking feeling in my chest since I got here and it really does suck. I haven’t cried but I just feel the start of a depression coming on. I really do not want to feel like this. Damn black cloud. Go Away. And while that is happening. PC come here.

Anyway. I would say that more dates are happening this weekend. Not sure if I am bothered or not but fuck it. It will keep me occupied. I just won’t get a wax so I cannot make stupid decisions.

I have started my new job. I am seriously hoping that this picks up my mood.

Once more to the breach

Kill me. Kill me now.

PC has not stepped up the the mark. In fact, he has backed off more than stepped up. So I decided to take things more into my own hands. Online dating, well Tinder dating again anyway.

I had my first date from it. I know… I move fast, a date and a job in less than two weeks. I also am building quite the network of friends which makes me very happy.

So about this date. He is Irish, living in Canada for five years. Sounds like we picked him out of the country 2 weeks ago his accent is so strong. He rocked up in a GAA jersey and bad shorts and runners. For a date. No. Just. No.

I called him out on it and he tried to tell me that I judge people on appearance too much and that I cannot change him yadda yadda yadda. I snapped him out of that one. I explained that if a woman makes an effort then it is only right that he should too. It isn’t about changing someone, it is about putting your best foot forward and going with that. I think he got it.

Anyway. The craic was mighty, the funniest guy I have hung around with in a very long time. He even came dancing with me.

So we agreed to be friends. Then made out. A lot. A lot of it was to shut him up. The more he talked the dryer I got but when we kissed. Wow. I had to finish myself off when I got home, put it that way.

So he kept asking me to go home with him, kept begging me to let him come back to mine. Obviously he didn’t, part of me wants the next person I have sex with to be the last one. And lets face it, he is not going to be that guy; but my god that man has some body. Damn Irish accent. We will call him Tipp.

I took his sunglasses so I guess I will have to see him again…

So then I was chatting to a Canadian fella. I am actually going to call him by his name SIMON. I had such high hopes for this man. The one that I had most in common with. He then went on to tell me that he likes sex, drugs and sometimes gets into fights. I tried to keep it civil “I don’t compromise on certain things, I don’t like being around drugs and fighting outside of a ring doesn’t do it for me” type of thing. But then he got abusive. So I sent the first message you see here. Then he got worse…

Screenshot_2015-07-19-14-23-40[1]

What a fucking douche bag. He is blocked. Alerted to tinder. And deleted. I sent that screenshot to PC and he under reacted. No such thing as defending my honor or wanting to from our good owel PC. He really is not fighting for me at all. Funny thing is. I feel like if I was to show Tipp he would freak the fuck out. I think I like that about him.

Working

I GOT A JOB.

Turns out Canadian companies are really competitive when it comes to finding out that someone else wants the person you want to hire. Worked out great for me!

The company that I didn’t end up going for, one of the managers that interviewed me keeps on texting. Saying that he will take me out for beers. Married man. He wasn’t pervy when I met him (well I didn’t pick up on it anyway).

His messages have been plain strange, some sent at 10 pm. So anyway kind of pleased that I didn’t take that job in the end.

They only give you two paid weeks holidays a year here?! Madness. I am dead nervous to start but I am sure it’ll be fine once I get in there.

What to do

I haven’t an idea about what to do.

This situation is unlike anything that I have been in before and nothing like I ever wanted to be in.

I miss him but I am still getting to know him. It is the strangest thing. We skyped yesterday and he was just so MEH about it all so I lost the rag. I told him that if he didn’t want to do it then not to. I am the one that is away from everyone not him.

He isn’t vocalising anything that he wants or feels in the thoughts that if he doesn’t vocalise it then he won’t get hurt. Obviously that isn’t how it works.

So I just had to tell him that if he couldn’t do it, the longer he goes on giving a bit, the more I would get hurt, and he would get hurt either way.

Thing is, it has only been a week. He won’t have phone sex. He won’t sexy talk. He hasn’t booked any flights. I miss him.

I have to say. Alarm bells have been ringing when he thinks it is weird to think about spending any longer than two days with someone. Something that he has never done. He is twenty frigging nine. No holidays or anything with a girl. Weird? The weird bit isn’t spending that much time with someone, it is having never done it!

Also. Job seeking in a new country fucking sucks. Can’t do anything incase I spend too much money and I am bored senseless. Hours on the internet sending email after email after email.