A Eunuch's Love Life

The more personally intimate blog of the love life of an androgynous but not sexless eunuch in this post-modern world

Monday, February 20, 2006

No Contact tonight.

I was looking forward to the Contact Improv class. I’d had a couple of tries at this kind of moving contact dancing with partners recently at Confester gatherings, and liked the idea of experiencing human contact without being worried about sexual rejection or physical attack. In fact, it was when first practicing Contact Improv with my friend Gadget that I became aware of my body’s automatically fearful reactions when touched without knowing the outcome. I tense, fully alert and aware and ready to try and save myself from an imminent attack. Not surprising when one starts life as a baby being under constant painful physical attack from an angry three year old, and then grows up as a queer in a society where many queers, including many personally known, are horribly assaulted and murdered, and then has to process the threats from straight men homicidally incited merely by the fact of one's transsexuality. But it’s a different world now, and I am much less likely to be horribly mutilated, and I want to feel touch without fear, and I think I need to feel touch or I cry too much.

When I met Gadget as arranged in Newtown at 6:30pm, he told me that he'd learned that afternoon that the Contact Improv class starts at 6pm, not, as he'd previously advised, 7pm. I went along anyway, but didn't feel comfortable joining in when I saw the crowd of people writhing separately on the floor. I told Gadget that I needed to come at the beginning of the class, maybe next time, and went to leave. He questioned me on this, insisting everyone was just warming up/doing their own thing. My feelings not being valid enough apparently, I searched for a rationale, and told him that I wasn't comfortable interrupting the energies, the atmosphere, the vibe that had been set up. He didn't easily accept that I had any valid reason to go. Maybe I didn't. Maybe I'm just letting my fear/belief of being hurt or rejected cripple me. But I'm trying to work through this, but one step at a time. And that means joining a class at the beginning, not half way through. Anyway, I left, he stayed, and I cried some of the way home because I had been looking forward to safe human contact, and was now conscious of the lack of that and the lack of chance of this lack changing and how I feel when people reject me from human society because I am a faggot cunt, to quote one random stranger who yelled this at me on the way there. I wish I had been with a friend who could have noticed how uncomfortable I was and walked with me. Or maybe he's right and I am being unreasonable and there is no point in him ruining his contact experience because I have too many issues to just join in with a group of strangers who have already bonded and know the agenda. There you go, wrote like that, I probably was being unreasonable. Too needy. Can't just go with the flow when I feel great fear.

The good side is that I got some much needed shopping done in Newtown, and will have food for breakfast tomorrow.

The bad news is that the contact class starts at 6pm, and I don't know if I can get away from work early enough. (My office closes at 6pm)

Ah, I could manage it if I wanted. But I think it's the sort of thing I need a friend at, someone who will be there for me, and leave with me even if I am being unreasonable and terrified. I think I'm too much effort for Gadget, and that's fair enough to him to set his boundaries and do his own thing.

Maybe I'll feel better later, and get to the start of next week's class, by myself if necessary.

I have to do something. I can't just rely on my poor housemate to bear the burden of touching me because no one else will. I won't be an endless burden.

But I have to regularly experience being truly accepted by other humans as an okay human even if I am not a man or a woman, okay to be part of all the other things healthy humans do together, including touching, and even being considered suitable for sex.

Not tonight, I guess, but, "This too will pass."



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