I remember exactly two girls who were lesbians, but then married a man for love.
One of them was a good friend of mine, everyone loved her, an exemplary girl, an excellent student, a Christian, somewhat reminiscent of Hermione Granger. Lily didn't date anyone until she moved to St. Petersburg.
Then we didnt communicate with her anymore, but I heard rumors that she was living and, lets call a spade a spade, having sex with a girl.
Social networks have made it much easier to find information about people, and the rumors were confirmed. Later, on the same vkontakte, I discovered that Lily was already married and gave birth to children, and looked happy. Surprisingly, it happens.
My second friend, a former work colleague, received gifts from her fans straight into the office. Flowers, sweets, soft toys, everything as it should be, only from former lovers.
I was surprised:
How so, you have a boyfriend?
Apparently, I'm bi. Because I've been married before and am getting married again, but in between I had a wonderful affair with a girl.
Bi is the next fashion trend in the sexual revolution. Previously, of course, it also existed in the Middle Ages and the Old Testament, but as you know, fashion tends to return.
As they say, in every person there is both a feminine and a masculine principle, everyone could potentially be both a man and a woman in a past life, which is why, in my opinion, all this confusion arises.
A bisexual guy once approached me, it was funny, but nothing more. There was also a girl who tried to pick me up, but I ran away as if scalded, politely bowing out.
One day, my ex-boyfriend, a lawyer, taekwondo master, Tatar, told me how as a child he and two friends played in the forest and decided to try it, and what its like when your penis is not satisfied with your hand. Are you blushing? Me too. But what should I do? He was also embarrassed when he told me. But they did it (his friends, not him). They didn't like it and decided to forget everything. Of course, he didnt reveal their names to me; it was their secret.
For some reason, it seems to me that almost every second person, and maybe more often, has had a homosexual experience.
My gynecology teacher Anna Vladimirovna explained the male desire to have a foreign object in the anus by the fact that the prostate is stimulated in this way and this is a separate type of sexual arousal. And if for diagnostic or therapeutic purposes it is necessary to collect sperm, but the man cannot, then the medical worker puts on a glove and massages that very place.
Dear ladies, dont be surprised if your husband asks you to wear a strap-on, hes not gay, he just wants to get that same pleasure.
I had a friend who with her boyfriend (almost her husband, they had been dating for so long) had anal sex in his direction. Don't think about it, she didn't look like a stern, masculine aunt who dominates her perverted sexual partner. This is a beautiful long-legged girl with light brown curly hair, facial features like Khodchenkova, dressed in a shawl and midi skirt.
My eyes also widened when she shared such an intimate detail with me in the solarium. I spent the whole day thinking about how easily she discusses such things in public places with a not very close friend.
Apparently this is liberation.
Or some form of perversion.
Or am I simply behind the times, and women should give all men a prostate massage so that he doesnt go to his lover?
My dear readers, if any of you suddenly judged me for a second for writing so openly, then drop it, dont read.
But I will continue anyway.
Life is too short to be afraid of being judged.
Once, by the way, I talked to my mother about my nephews masturbation, that he didnt need a girl yet, supposedly it was too early, and he already copes with his hormones with the help of masturbation.
Mom asked: What is this?
I answer: This is masturbation.
She meaningfully: Ah. This is what polite people say to hide their misunderstanding.
I decided not to educate her about this in her seventh decade.
Mom, if you're reading this, know that I didn't come up with this. The Bible, which you love so much, says this. There was an Onan who practiced coitus interruptus; for some reason handjob was named after him.
Back to homosexuality. Heres another example: two women of about forty, but very beautiful and obviously rich, recently approached me, gave me a lot of compliments and invited me for a cup of coffee.
Women do not meet people like themselves on the streets. No heterosexual woman would make acquaintances so daringly. In a beauty salon, yes. Mutual friends, yes. Friends in misfortune, perhaps in a bar, or at the gym, yes. On the street, no.
This is what men do in order to later get them into bed. It's not bad. Its just that this way of behavior is characteristic of the stronger sex and lesbians.
I refused, but later I told my husband that I had never received a better compliment in my life.
Between us girls, we love competition. And if a man admires us, its nice, and if a woman, then doubly so. After all, if your opponent likes you, it means she recognized your superiority. You win.
Well, maybe we dont think so directly, but somewhere deep down, I believe, we do.
Well, thats probably all on the topic of same-sex love, lets move on to the next chapter of my life.
What if Im on a vow of celibacy (the existence of which, of course, only God knows)
Another story that left a mark on my life.
I really thought that if the mountain does not come to Mohammed, then Mohammed has no reason to try.
They assured me that everything was Gods will. Single and older friends from the youth Christian community constantly said that if God does not give you a husband, then he has a different plan for you.
There was a little happiness on their faces, and Im sure each secretly wanted to quickly get married in order to prove to everyone that there was no curse on her. Oh, sorry, celibacy.
Well, what is this if not a curse?
You want sex, you want a handsome, smart, kind, sexy, preferably financially secure man next to you. And here its on you, you need to dress decently, behave decently, be an obedient and exemplary Christian, because there is no place for harlots in heaven.
So you stand in a dilemma: bright makeup is not allowed, God does not want it. You walk around pale as a moth, and pretty boys pay attention only to those whose natural beauty outshines all the other parishioners.
Brad, really?
That is, in the battle for the best guy, the one who doesnt need makeup a priori wins.
And the dull gray mouse gets exactly the same mediocre guy. And everything would be fine, because there are a lot of couples like that, and they live happily, love each other (I dont mean it as a reproach, forgive me for Gods sake if I offended anyone), but there are also those who dont settle for the average, give them the best .
I'm very ambitious. I always wanted to be on top.
I don't think I'm giving up yet.
Every time I increase the upgrade level to reach new heights.
Now Im thinking about going to Hollywood, Ill start with small roles, and then well see how it goes. Look, in this life Ill star in the main one.
Then, at fourteen, I didnt want to agree with the vow of celibacy. She constantly tried it on herself and threw it aside with contempt.
I prayed that God would not give me such misfortune, that he would bypass me and reward Olya, well, let Christina, Nastya, Valya in extreme cases, but not me.
They are all married now, just like me, but then they were so afraid. They were afraid, but did not show these feelings. They held firm.
I was the weakest of all, the first to start putting on makeup, and so brightly, to be sure. I didn't even give up on getting David.
He was in a relationship, and I asked him to teach me how to play the guitar, suggested we go for a walk, supposedly discuss the Bible, and arranged gatherings with mutual friends at his house. All this was seasoned with a ton of makeup and a deep neckline.
Even after that unfortunate under-kiss, I carried out attacks on the poor couple of guys in love. I think these were attacks on my loneliness. I fought him desperately.
I went to clubs, met with guys in between, until I left for a bigger city, where, as I wrote earlier, I almost locked myself in a monastery for three years.
Do you know what was there? Three years of celibacy. Its so funny, I fought with him so much and lost. Beaten and defeated, with my tail between my legs, I resigned myself to this fate and stopped trying.
In the dorm, I was a nasty nerd who, at twenty-three, could go into the kitchen and rip someone's stereo cord out of the socket because I wanted to sleep. The whole floor was having fun and listening to this music, it didnt bother anyone, but they were afraid of me. I complained, after all.
I laugh, but in those years I was stiff and hypocritical, like an old woman.
I masturbated then too. But she hid it from everyone, fearing to spoil her image of decency.
These were strange years in my life. I had a lot of friends, I wont say that I missed you, but life in fear of Gods punishment is very depressing.
Christian girls, friends of those days of mine, if you are reading this book and are still not burned with shame, then come to your senses.
There is no one in this life who would live it for you. If you are unhappy, then it will get worse, only depression and antidepressants while waiting for a better life in paradise. I have already seen girls like this, dreaming of quickly getting off this rushing train called life, instead of picking up speed and winning themselves.
There will be no other source of happiness except yourself. No one, no heavenly powers will make you happy if you have not learned to generate happiness in yourself.
Okay, let's move on. I'll tell you a little later about my episode of apathy.
In the meantime, here are examples of girls who thought they were under a curse, ugh, you misspoke again, a vow of celibacy.
Inessa, a plump thirty-five-year-old girl, married a rich Finn, travels with him around the world.
Sonya, a masculine, stooped, bespectacled daughter of a village priest, married a young pastor from another village.
Another Sonya (the spitting image of John Lennon in a skirt) married a new parishioner.
Masha hurried up and married an alcoholic, but the truth overcame loneliness. Was it worth it? She knows better.
Sveta, she went on exchange from the University to Norway, there she found herself a tall, curly-haired Jew who lives in Israel.
Zhanna married her childhood friend, but I think shes worried that her betrothed is still wandering around somewhere.
Zoya married a very hardworking guy. Do they have orgasms? I don't know, but they have fun together.
Zhenya is married for the second time.
Edita is on the verge of divorce, but in my opinion she never doubted herself. If he gets divorced, a dozen more people will immediately appear.
I But about myself a little later (Im married, I looked for a long time, I found it).
You know, there is such a belief that if a woman is over thirty and has not been married, then she is an old maid.
I think we weren't afraid of celibacy, we were afraid of being labeled an old maid. We were afraid of old age in principle.
And if someone had shown me then an example of a happy old womans life: a biker jacket, a biker jacket, no wrinkles, pumped up, wearing makeup, well, maybe a little Botox for the sake of gloss, heels and latex trousers, my life could have been different.
Have you seen Mylene Farmer? Not married, no children, that is, no relationship with some handsome guy, and all this is seasoned with concerts for millions of fans peeing with delight.
These are the kind of women that need to be shown to young girls, so that they dont realize themselves yet, and dont even worry about being lonely after thirty.
Now Mr. President will condemn me, but what about the state order for children? Dear sir, I am not against children or marriage, I am for conscious marriage and creating a family.
Girls, girls, women, realize yourself, strive to be happy, the rest will come later.
"Painful breakup."
If we take the chronology, then after unrequited love for the man of my romance, I experienced my first painful breakup. If you look at life in general, then I had at least three of these.
So, let's start with the debut. Its, as you know, going out into the world for the first time and finding yourself dirty, or naked. As it happens in a dream. you walk like this through the snow in only a sweater, no boots, no socks, and whats worse is that you dont even have panties. Such an under-exhibitionist.
Who had this? Yeah, I see hands raised, there are a lot of us.
So, finding yourself in love for the first time after a breakup is cruel.
The second and third time you get more or less used to it.
But the first time you completely lose your head. You try to get him back, call, write, follow him around, ask for forgiveness, have sex just so that he doesnt do this with anyone else but you, get angry with him, complain to your friends about what a scoundrel he is.
But from the perspective of my current situation, I could just as diligently take up sports, dancing, drawing, going to a theater group, doing what I was called to do.
I dont argue that I may also have a vocation for the return of runaway guys, but considering that now I have a beloved husband, and they were left behind, then all this was pointless.
So, how do you know if a man is worth the effort, tears and change?
Well, I developed a set of criteria for getting my ex-boyfriends back, and I won't do it again.
First of all, they were offended by me. I pointed out their shortcomings to them more often than I spoke words at all. Im exaggerating, of course, but something always irritated me about them. Either he called me a fool, then he called me too fat, too unkempt, rude, angry, boorish, unsexy, stupid, greedy, poor, lazy, just not the same.
Therefore, at first I abandoned them myself, trying to get them to return me. Then they agreed with my decision and really broke off the relationship.
Something like that:
I'm leaving.
Sorry.
No, I decided.
A day, two, a month, in different ways. I start to get bored, the hysteria passes, the anger settles. And it seemed like he wasn't that bad. I want everything back. I guess I love him. He is definitely my destiny, it's time to call him.
If I had immediately realized that a feeling of guilt was pushing me to return them, and that this same feeling would later make me weaker in relation to my ambitions, ruin my dreams and my individuality, then I would not have hesitated.
Some men are worth pursuing, but not men.
Secondly, they were in love with me at the beginning of our relationship. They made it clear that they were hooked on me, that I was the one they not only wanted, but loved. This is any kind of romance. You won't miss this. It's hard not to notice. Sings songs when he sees you, beams with happiness. Finds out from your friends everything you think and feel. He constantly wants to be around and makes appointments. Gives flowers, gifts, takes you to the cinema, tries to surprise you even after you have had intimacy.
Openly declares love.
It may not be all together, but only a couple of points that still determine his affection for you.
If I knew that I, in principle, deserved love, I would not think that he was the only one who would love me. There will be others. I wouldnt worry that if I broke up with the guy who loved me, Id meet someone better. Someone not only in love, but also in line with my preferences.