30 Life Lessons From 30 Years

I bumped into this post in September of last year. I was heading towards my Dirrty 30’s and wanted to see how far along I was on the Lesson Log. I had made it half way 🙂 Running into it again in September of this year is serendipitous. Full circle. Its always a wonderful thing when you can see the growth, albeit in retrospect.

http://www.theminimalists.com/30lessons/

Enjoy!

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21 Varieties of Traditional African Homosexuality

An illuminating piece on homosexuality in Africa dating as far back as pre 1600’s.

Puzzling. Just very puzzling.

I really do not get the shame and the stigma attached to being gay in Africa in the 21st century. We were out in the open for everyone to see… What caused us to flee into hiding? Who told us it was wrong?

http://76crimes.com/2014/01/30/21-varieties-of-traditional-african-homosexuality/

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Letter To My Future Wife

Today I have no idea who you are or when you are coming. I dream of it though, and imagine how wonderful it will be. I have been extremely patient waiting for you. This is a trait I promise to carry for the rest of our lives.

I understand why it is taking so long for you to get here, I had a lot of soul searching to do. You too had your own life to deal with. I know it won’t be long now. We will come together at a perfect time, to create the perfect balance.

I already feel your presence, you have no name and no exact face. But you are near. I know I am probably not worthy of the amazing things you are, but I will love you. I will cherish you and always honor you. You my love will be my best friend and my lover. I will be your number one fan.

You will never know exactly who I was before we met, the reality of it you would never believe. Our stories are our own, but they will collide. In that moment, who we were will no longer matter. I have changed my life in preparation for you and all of the great things we will share. I look forward to our journey and continue to wait patiently for it to begin.

In the meantime, I prepare my heart to open up to let you in. Everyday I let go of more things so I am ready for you should you arrive. I look at strangers and wonder if you are among them. It is you my love that inspires me to step out of my comfort zone. It is you that encourages me to meet new people. You are the reason for so many things. Knowing you are coming has already made me a better person. I can only imagine the me I become when you show up, not so randomly.
From: Your Wife to be

**Postscript**

This moving declaration was written by Ngwana Wa Tshwenya, a friend I met on facebook. I saw it on her profile and asked if I could feature it on the blog. I literally sobbed while reading it. I am deeply moved by the pure sincerity and the vulnerability it so openly shows. Beautiful!

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Transcending The Bullshit

Thirty year olds have always fascinated me.

I remember how I used to eyeball them at functions as a teen while stuck in the kitchen with my cousins or friends doing chores or catering to guests.  The women were a sight with their perfectly manicured nails and subtle perfume…not a hair out of place. Their air of poise and confidence was breezy yet definite.  I was afraid to refer to them by name.

By the time I reached my twenties, I was a Thirty Year Old in training however none of the aesthetic things mattered as much anymore.  This could have also been because I knew two or three of them personally (via friends, my family circle is tiny) and so the whole hero syndrome effect had calmed down sufficiently enough for me to take my gazing further. The thing that jumped out at me first was their uncanny knowledge of self.  These women could tell you what they liked and what they did not like in a jiffy and they were not ashamed.  The magical way they could decide between the two was further proof that these were enchanted beings I was amongst and I revered every second.  My best friend asking me to come over to the townhouse she shared with her 30 plus sister was similar to attending lectures at UJ except that wine and not bottled water was the favoured accompaniment.  The way I would even forget that I had come to visit my best friend? Terrible.

Last week, while watching reruns of The Talk, Sharon Osbourne  spoke briefly about how she had thought herself strange as a thirty year old because she was the proverbial mess whilst her friends were very together. This hit a nerve. I’ve found myself cowering at home not wanting to go out and mingle because I feel like a sheep in Thirty Year Old clothing.  Nothing about me says put together, I feel. My afro is at that difficult not-long-enough phase.  The clothes in my wardrobe are a combination of too young verses snooty librarian. I have a personal style in my head however it’s not manifesting itself outwardly.  A pity really because it looks so damn good in my head.  So far it had been such a disappointment, my turning thirty. I was finding myself resenting the anticipation I’d had for this prodigious birthday.  Until something peculiar started happening recently…

I got really tired of being expected to be perfect.

I got really tired of expectations period.  It started to really grate at me the compassion I saw the people around me gave themselves but could not afford me. I’m sensitive by nature and avoid confrontation because sticks, stones and words all harm me. But people, I have noticed, are generally quick to forgive themselves of their inabilities with regards to you but will rage like the river Nile should you do the exact same thing to them. The barometer that measures their shortcomings is less forgiving when it comes to the next person. I call this, The Bullshit. And since figuring it out, my insides have relaxed a bit because I feel I may be on to something.  Those Thirty Year Olds I revered so much with their good looks and straight forward talk had put one and one together, just like I am doing right now. I’m also seeing that it had to start from the inside for me.  Just like the authenticity journey I went through years ago.  I do believe that this is the continuation of that and that my friend means progress!

Sharon Osbourne continued on to say that she finally managed to get it together at age thirty-five.  I’m four years away from that in three months’ time.  Perfect time to translate the transition I’m going through on the inside into the woman I want to look like on the outside, whoever she is.

I can’t wait to meet her!

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Writing To Disolve The Mess

Can I get an Amen!

http://booksbywomen.org/writing-to-dissolve-the-mess/

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Butch Women and the Finger: Sexual Compatibility vs. Being Open

I got into a friendly debate about sexual compatibility today.

It was refreshing to speak at length to a person who a) wasn’t intimidated by my long responses and inquisitive nature and b) wasn’t annoyed by my long responses and inquisitive nature. It was also inspiring to be able to speak about something like this to a complete stranger and not have it turn into an argument.  This re-iterates my thoughts about no topic being off-limits where respect lives.

Anyway, the conversation started with the lady posting about a friend of hers on a popular group for lesbians over the age of 30 of which I’m part of.  The friend was having issues with her butch partner who did not want to be vaginally penetrated during sex.  She was at her wits end on solutions for how to solve this because she was eager to do it however her partner wasn’t.

At first, people were shy to comment (although they left comments saying that they were not going to comment). Go figure. Then advice came rushing in and majority of the advisers wanted to know whether her friend had spoken to her honey about her distress.  Whether she had let her butch know that she really wanted to get inside her because she felt pleasure in doing this to her also.  The friend who was asking for her responded that they hadn’t because she didn’t know how to broach the subject but she had also advised her friend about discussing it with her butch, so some kind of consensus could be reached.  This is when she argued that because of conflicts similar to this, people needed to be sexually compatible for the relationship to work.

Now I don’t know about you but, it has been rare in my life where a person has come along and ticked all of my boxes whilst swinging me from a chandelier. One way or the other, I’ve had to make suggestions or quietly guide them to what I like and what leaves me drooling.  I don’t believe in the ready-made lover who jumps into bed with you and is able to read you right off the bat.  So to dwell on compatibility is pointless because you’re going to have to unlearn what you’ve learnt with your previous partner anyway.

She felt that things should never be forced.  It shouldn’t be a compromise and/or uncomfortable in the bedroom. And felt that like people were more successful and sexually fulfilled than those who didn’t like the same things.  Her experience as a fetishist had taught her that finding someone who was already so inclined broke down the compatibility barrier because they were already doing it and were therefore comfortable in that way.  The anti-thesis of opposites attract if you will.

I have a hard time believing that people should stay in their lanes in the bedroom. I don’t see why a set of rules should exist in a place where routine creates deathbed syndrome. I am continually evolving as a person and yes, that means sexually too. Learning and unlearning are the building bricks of evolution and staying in my lane would have me wishing I could build a bridge on it, then jump. Sex should be creative. It should be expressive.  It should be uncomfortable in pleasurable ways.  And part of that is being able to compromise and saying yes to something you’d usually say no to because you’re raising the bar and adding to your experience.  Trying something new should not only be reserved for those times when you think you’re going to enjoy it. E.L James wrote about a young woman experiencing BDSM for the first time.  There were times she liked it, and times she didn’t. I’m pretty sure panties around the world were wet both times. That book sold millions of copies because many of us were experiencing BDSM for the first time too, through Anastasia. Now it’s no longer a question of whether you’d do it or not as it is IF you’d like it when you do.

I’ve heard it be told that femme’s are evolving.  I should hope so! I love that I live in the era where bizarre in the bedroom equals ignorance. Gone are the days where dominance in the bedroom was reserved for butches and where femme women were the only receivers.

Do you have set roles in the bedroom? I’d love to hear how having set roles or lack of influences your sexual compatibility. Do you believe in sexual compatibility?

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My New Year’s Gift To You – A Magic Pill

I’m so guilty! Are you?

My New Year’s Gift To You – A Magic Pill.

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