Underneath my yellow skin

Category Archives: Neurodivergency

Sex and dating, dating and sex, part eight

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I’ve decided that I want to do ten posts about this topic, so three to go. Why? Because. This is one way my neurodivergent brain works, by the way. It insists on making patterns when there aren’t any. I know that’s normal to some extent with everyone, but my brain does it to a bothersome degree. I know it’s going to happen at some point, but I’m powerless to stop it. It’s easier to go with it and let it wear itself out–or not. Some of my obsessions continue whereas others are left in the dust.

One thing I’m working on is being not ashamed about the weird way my brain works. Look. I know I’m a freak. I’ve known it since I was a kid, even if I could not articulate it. It’s interesting. There is someone in the Discord I’m in who is clearly neurodivergent and not at all interested in masking. Yes, it’s a ‘he’, which is significant. He has upset/offended several people in the Discord, including me because of the way he’s phrased things.

He likes to state his opinion as if it’s fact, and many of them are inflammatory. I’m not against it, but I also think that you should have some care as to the feelings of other people. It’s hard for me to say because I’m too much to the other side. As an AFAB, I was taught to always care about other people’s feelings first. That’s not good, either, but I do think there needs to be a balance.

It’s frustrating because this person, let’s call him Jack, makes me want to defend him on some occasions, not because I necessarily agree with his viewpoint, but because I don’t like groupthink. All groups have it, and this is not the worst at it, by far, but there is a slight stifling that goes on that I do not approve of.

There are times when I eye a conversation and decide not to wade into it. Sometimes, it’s because I’m not up for an argument, and sometimes, it’s because I know that my opinion is so out there, it’s not going to be welcomed. Therefore, I’m self-censoring, which is not ideal. It’s what I do much of the time, though.

I do envy Jack for not giving a shit about how he says things, but I also think he needs to think a bit. He tries to defend himself by saying it’s how he and his friends talk. Well, we’re not his friends. Also, that’s a bad excuse for being a jackhole. Even if it’s not deliberate, it’s still off-putting.

I don’t know where I draw the line between being yourself and being a jerk, but he goes well past that line. Also, again, it’s dudes who are allowed to be their authentic selves while women and AFAB people are more penalized for not fitting in.

In Jack’s case, it’s also because he’s mostly online and on the younger side. And he hangs out with people just like him (I’m guessing the predominance of them are guys, too). It’s easy to think if everyone around you thinks the way you do, everyone in general does as well.

People have been very impatient and brusque with him. Neurotypicals, I mean. Or more specificially, people who are not autistic (since autism and ADHD are different things). I can often see what Jack is trying to say, but do I want to defend him? Sometimes. Othertimes, he makes me angry, too. Especially when he talks as if he’s the authority on America (he’s not from this country and doesn’t live in it).


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Dating and tech, part six

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Just when I thought I would have a tech issue-free day….I will say it was not anything big, nor, sadly was it unexpected. It was just my internet deciding to go out for a minute. For no reason. It does this once every few weeks. Sometimes, it’s the internet actually going out for a minute. Other times, it’s just my computer decided not to be connected. The latter is infinitely more frustrating and annoying because if my connection is good, then I should be able to internet.

Fortunately, it usually clears up in a few minutes, and today was no exception.

Let’s talk more about dating! As I have talked about in past, the one thing I appreciate the older I get is that I have a firmer idea of what is acceptable in a partner and what isn’t. It’s interesting to me how different it is for me than it is for most normies.

When I was a kid, I thought I’d grow up, gett married, and have children. Happily ever after and the rest of our lives, etc. To death do us part and all that jazz. It didn’t fill me with joy, but I was indoctrinated brought up to believe that it was the only path for a young woman. It wasn’t even implicit–my mother flat out said that the job of a woman was to have children. When I told her I didn’t want them, she said it didn’t matter what I wanted–it was my duty. She straight up said it!

I was twenty-two when I realized that I didn’t want them. So hard. Like, it was the thing I wanted least in the world. Me dying twice and coming back? Preferable to having children. Of course, I did come back, so that makes me biased, but still. It was such a relief to realize I didn’t actually have to have children, no matter how much my mother pressured me to do so.

Here’s my post from yesterday in which I talked more about my tech issues than anything else. Look. I live online. If I can’t access my computer, it’s a big deal. Yes, I’m very lucky that I have a laptop and a desktop so I can go to one if the other isn’t working, but I prefer doing some stuff on my desktop and some stuff on my laptop, so I highly prefer both to be working.

Around the same time I realized I did not want children, I also discovered that I was sexually attracted to women. And now, to people of any or no gender. Gender doesn’t matter. We like to say race is a construct, and so is gender. That’s not what this post is about, though, so I’ll move past that with dificulty.

Let’s talk about now. I am tired. I’m tired of the hatred of my LGBTQ+ kinfolk, and I just don’t have the will to deal with it any longer. Which means–no cishetdudes for me. It’s too much like all the isms 101, and I don’t have the patience for that. I mean, I never have, but it’s really gone now.


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More about dating…and tech issues, part five

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Day three? Four? Something like that of tech issues. This time, it’s completely self-inflicted, which doesn’t make it any less frustrating. In fact, it’s more frustrating because why the hell did I do that? If only I hadn’t done that! Here’s what happened.

A couple days ago, I accidentally kicked my PC tower. Hard. It was fine, but I had to make sure all the cables were plugged in firmly. They seemed to be, and all was well. Today, suddenly, my PC stopped working. Just out of the blue. I immediately deduced that it had something to do with the accidental kick I had given the PC tower a few days ago.

I checked cables. All seemed fine. I checked the power strip. Also seemed fine. I unplugged it and replugged it in, and then I turned it off and on again. It was all fine. It was late at night (for normies), so I didn’t want to call my brother. I knew that he went to bed by eleven/midnight, and I didn’t know how long it would take me to fix the issue. Though I had a hunch that he would know what it was.

I did some more hunting around to see what I might have missed. I finally realized that I was looking at the wrong cord when I was checking out the  power cord. The actual power cord had come unplugged on the PC tower side, so I plugged it back in. Did that take care of the problem? Yes! My computer booted up, and it was fine. Except.

Why wasn’t my second monitor working? I futzed with the settings, but my computer said that the second monitor was not available. What the hell? I was mad at myself for kicking my PC,  even though it was an accident.

I checked the cable on the back of my second monitor, and the other end was unplugged. I knew it had to go into my PC tower, but I had no idea where. By the shape of the cable, I only seemed to have one option. I plugged it in, but it wasn’t the one. I Googled it, and it said not to plug into the HDMI at the top of the PC tower, but to use the port that was lower. I could not see another HDMI port, but I knew there had to be one.

I got onto the ground with my phone (as my flashlight), and I found the right HDMI port. Finally! Everything was back to the way it should be. Except. About five minutes later, several YouTube videos started playing at the same time. I had about a hundred tabs open in roughly thirty different bunches. I had to quickly go through them to find the ones that were playing. Of course, it was nearly the last bunch that was the culprit, so I got rid of almost all my YouTube tabs. It doesn’t bother me because I’m sure I’ll have a hundred open again in no time flat.


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Sexy times (or not), part four

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I’m back to talk more about sex, baby. Let’s talk about you and me. Let’s talk about all the good things and the bad things that may be. Is that the lyrics? It’s close enough. I don’t feel like Googling it. I like the song, though, and I may include it as the video below. I loved that Salt-N-Pepa were so frank and open about sex in 1991. And from a female point of view in rap. I have to give them props for being pioneers, and I’m so happy that they made the Hall of Fame.

You know what? They have a song I like even better than Let’s Talk About Sex. It’s not Shoop, though that’s a great song, too. Nor Whatta Man ft. En Vogue (also a terrific song). It’s None of Your Business, and I found a video of them doing it live on the Jon Stewart (!) show. I love that they’re telling off everyone who scolds women (and, yes, specifically women) for having casual sex and those who are harsh on sex workers.

I love that they are sex-positive and very unapologetic about it (at least in their music). There were very few female rappers and DJs at that time (and still, sadly). Their songs are catchy, and their hit with En Vogue is truly something special. I loved seeing that many badass (and hot) women strutting their stuff.

Here is my post from yesterday in which I wandered all over the place talking about whatever came to mind as it pertained to sex or technology.

Here is something about sex that I don’t get–why I’m supposed to feel guilty about enjoying it. I grew up in a very restrictive, shaming, fundamental Evangelical household that made it seem like having sex outside marriage was a Mortal Sin tthat would cast my soul into Hell for all eternity. Especially for women. That’s a very important part of the shaming process. Making sure the woman feels like she’s total trash if she has sex.

Only before marriage, mind. Once he puts a ring on it, then the heavens part, angels come down to sing Hallelujah, and then you get immediately pregnant. That’s the only reason to have sex in the eyes of the devout.

I was fed that bullshit all my childhood. When I was dating in my late teens/early twenties, I had what I bagan to call everything-but–meaning anything that fell technically short of actual penis in vagina. This was a known thing In fact, I didn’t do this, but it became a well-known Christian thing for girls to have anal sex as a way to avoid giving up their vaginal virginity. Which, I mean….

Side note: virginity is not a real thing, anyway. It’s just a thin piece of skin that not every AFAB person even has, and there are so many ways for it to break. In addition, it’s such an antiquated way of looking at sex–and so sexist. So many young women thinking they were ruined or broken just because that little piece of skin was no longer there.


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Sexy times in my future? (Part three)

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Sex. Dating. I have more thoughts on this, but before I get there, I want to touch a bit more on technology and when it doesn’t work. Facebook rolled out the encryption in chat thing, and because I cleared my cache, it now won’t recognize me in one specific chat–the only one I use on a regular basis. (With my bestie, K.) I did what I could to try to access the almost year’s worth of messages I can’t get, including ones from this week, but in the end, I gave up.

I followed all the tutorials telling me how to get it. I finally was able to use the code to get into the chat, and a portion of the messages were still missing. That’s when I realized that it wsas Meta being Meta (ughhhhhhhh), so I mentally  shrugged and moved on. I was still irritated, mind, but what could I do about it?

Back to dating. Here’s my post from yesterday in which I talk about dating–and technology.

I am flummoxed when it comes to dating because gender is such an anathema to me. Being queer, many of the hetero norms just don’t matter to me. I mean, they probably wouldn’t even if I were straight, but they’re truly meaningless. When you have two people (or more) of the same gender (or different varying genders), the old rules for hets don’t make any sense. In fact, when you look at the norms through queer lenses, so many of them fall by the wayside.

As a girl/woman, I heard the following: “Don’t ask a boy out. Let him do the asking.” “Let the guy pay.” “Don’t ever beat a guy in–” well, anything, really. So many of the rules for women were to make yourself as small as possible and not take up any noticeable room. Cater to the guy’s needs/desires/sensibilities, and don’t you dare have any needs of your own.

Don’t be high maintenance. Don’t be needy. Don’t eat anything too _________ fill in the blank with anything but salad. Oh, and don’t offer to pay. Apparently, that’s emasculating.

It all boiled down to, “Be a living, breathing doll who has no opinions of her own.”

Even if I could do all that (and I couldn’t), why the fuck would I want to? I read The Rules when it came out because I wanted a laugh. Instead, I was horrified by how antiquated the advice was (and it was a runaway best seller), and the last sentence sent a chill down my spine. It was something like, “And the rules don’t end once you get married because you have to put in the work to keep the man who’s biggest benefit is that he’s breathing.” That’s paraphrased, yes, but it was that sentiment.

I remember thinking, “Oh, great. I never get a breather?”

By the way, when the next edition or the sequel came out, there was a note stating that one of the authors got a divorce. That made me laugh uproariously as I admired her chutpah.


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Let’s talk about dating, sex, and more

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I want to talk more about dating, but not necssary about labels. I mean, the topic may come up, but that’s not the main purpose of this post.

The last two times I thought about dating to the point of composing the ad in my head, the world got in my way. The first time was in early February, 2020. I probably don’t need to say what happened that pushed the thought of dating out of my mind completely. In case you were in your once-in-a-lifetime coma at that time (I can juoke because I was in one myself), there was a little thing called a pandemic that was in full swing by early March.

There was Zoom dating during the pandemic, but that was not of interest to me. It seems like it combined all the worst parts of dating (heavy focus on looks, talking to someone you don’t know for at least fifcteen minutes if not longer, and small talk). I  mean, it’s not all that much different than going to a cafe with someone and having a coffee, but it feels much different.

Additionally, all I want is sex, which is not doable via Zoom. At least not actual skin touching skin sex. Which is what I want. If I just want to get off, then I could do that on my own. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, if it’s just about me getting off, I can do that just fine by myself. In fact, I am the best at getting me off. I can do it in three sceonds if I want. If I’m going to be with someone else, it’s about the exploration and the physical interaction.

Look. Let’s be real and honest with each other. I have no interest in dating for the sake of dating or a long-term relationship. If I am going to go through the effort of dating and getting to know someone(s), then I’m going to eventually want sex. I’m specifically looking for booty is what I’m saying.

After the vax was created and I got both my shots (and several weeks afeter to let it sink in), I started to cautiously go out again. I’ve mentioned this several times, but I’ll restate it once again. I went to Cubs to start shopping for food again, the local Thai place with my brother, and (the worst decision in the world), Target. The last was a nightmare with so many people, the vast majority of theem unmasked.

This was around June/July. I started thinking about dating again–which was nearer to the end of August. Then, I got incredibly tired–the most tired I’ve been in my life–and that’s saying something. I’m tired most of the time after a lifetime of not sleeping well or much at all. This time, though, I was utterly exhausted. As in, I could not get out of bed exhausted.

Right before that, I started thinking about dating again. I was planning my ad, and then, I got hit with the medical crisis of my life. As in, being in the hospital unconscious for a week with the premise that I was not going to wake up.

That’s not the weirdest thing about the whole experience, by the way. You would think it was, but it wasn’t. I don’t know why that didn’t shake me–probably because I was drugged out of my mind. I was so strung out, and it felt great. For the first time, I could truly understand why people did drugs (I’ve never done them before) because I wavs flying high–and feeling no pain.

That’s not the point of this post, though. The point is that the last two times I thought about dating, the world said, “NOPE.” Not only did it say no, it said no in the most brutal way possible. I have started thinking I wanted to try to date again, but I”m worried. I’ll admit it. I don’t believe that bad luck comes in threes, but I don’t not believe it, either. More to the point, I’m not sure I want to test that theory.


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Labels and dating, part seven

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I’m back! And this time I am definitely going to talk about dating and labels. For sure. I am not going to veer off onto another topic and talk about that for over a thousand words. That is not like me at all, and I won’t deviate from the path at all in this post, either.

In the last post, I actually touched on dating, which was what I’ve wanted to talk about for the past few posts. If I were in my ideal world, this is the ad I would write. “I”m looking for a fuck buddy or three. Hit me up if you’re interested.”

That’s the basic gist of what I want, but, of course, we don’t live in an ideal world so I have to qualify that statement to get closer to what I really want. First of all, no Republicans. That is still my unberakable will not tolerate. Even more so now than when I dated thirty years ago, just no. Anyone who is a Republican in this day and age is on the wrong side of history. There is no moderation in today’s Republican Party. They are trying to destroy me and my kin; why the hell would I want to be a part of that?

Back when Marriage Equality was being debated, some Republicans were clutching their pearls and bleating about how uncivilized the queers were being in what they (we) said. “Why can’t we be civil about this?” They would say in earnest.

Because, motherfuckers, there’s nothing civil about trying to classify me as not a human being deserving of basic human rights. Our words may be uncivil, but your beliefs are worse. Besides, it’s not as if they would listen to us if we just used nicer words. Believe me, I’ve being fighting this fight for thirty years along with several other concerning civil rights. We are in danger of losing many of the rights we have gained over the last few decades, which breaks my heart.

And it’s made me draw a hard line in the sand. If you’re part of the current Republican Party, then you’re actively against me as a human being with equal rights to you. I do not have to date that if I don’t want to, and I most definitely do not want to.

By the way, the ‘both sides are bad’ people irritate the fuck out of me, too. No, both sides are not equally bad. I’m not saying either side is particularly great, but there is one side that is actively trying to strip me of my civil rights. There is one party that was behind the occupation of Minneapolis and the  terror it wrought on my home state.

This is something I touched on previous posts. When it comes to dating, people are allowed to be as discriminatory as possible. In fact, it always makes me chuckle  darkly when people tell me I have to give someone a chance. Interestingly, men usually say it with the belief that women and perceived women don’t have the right to turn down anyone who shows interest in them. The woman should be flattered! Especially when she’s not conventionally attractive.

The women who used to tell me I should give any guy a shot were coming at it from a different point of view–that any man was better than none. But they also believed that any man who had the courage to ask me out deserved a chance. “You never know!”


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One more post about labels, part six

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I still have one more post about labels in me s so let’s go! I’ve been planning on writing about labels when it comes to dating for the past two posts, but, well, that’s not what I ended up writing about. In the last post, I talked about labels I use for myself that I’m mostly fine with, including bi, Taiwanese American, and areligious. I don’t love two of them (bi, and areligious0, but they do the job. The other one (Taiwanese American) is factual, which makes it fine*.

I was going to say that in writing a dating profile, I would like to be able to avoid labels completely and not include a picture–but then I realized that’s not exactly true. What I want to do is avoid the people (ahem, men) who loooooooooooove Asian women and send me pics of their dicks unasked for, and, indeed, unwanted.

This was my experience the last time I tried to use the dating apps, and it was really dispiriting. I explicitly said that I did not want anyone who had an Asian fetish and DO NOT SEND DICK PICS. The  vast majority of responses I got ignored both of these edicts.

In a twisted way, it’s a blessing because they are just self-selecting out. If I didn’t have to actually see the dick pics, I would be ok with that. This was decades ago, so I don’t know if there are strictures in place on apps now that do not allow unsolicited dick picks to go through. I would think there should be a way to do that, but I’m not a tech person.

PSA: Guys. My dudes. I rarely make blanket statements, but this is one I’m more than comfortable in making . Do not send unsolicited dick pics. Period. There is no exception to this, and you are certainly not it. (I know there are guys out there who think their dicks are just that special; trust me, they aren’t.)

PSA II: Your dick really really isn’t that special. For many people who are not dudes but like dicks, it’s a specific dick that is attractive and not just dicks in general. I know for many straight dudes, any tits and/or pussy will do. But even then, I think more of them would be weirded out by random pic of them out of the blue. It can be disconcerting, and especially when you were not asking for it nor especially in the mood for it.

Again, I don’t know how common or acceptable that is now, but back in the Wild West days of PlentyofFish, it was rampant. I would hazard that I got a dick pic for at least one out of four responses I got. And the “I loooooooove Oriental girls” response ratio was much higher.

I was talking about this with my brother when he started dating again. Not the specifics of my travails, but how now that we were in our mid-fifties, we were much more certain about what we wanted and didn’t.

When I talked about this with my Taiji teacher today, I mentioned how as she knew, I liked being alone. So anyone I dated needed to add something to my life and not make it more stressful. When I was in my twenties, I was told that I needed to settle. Basically, that any man was better than none, and the worst fate that could befall me was ending up alone.

After several disastrous relationships, I would have to disagree with that. It’s much worse being with someone who is disdainful of/tired of you than being by myself. In fact, I love being by myself. It’s the only time I can relax and be me. I miss my Shadow (still) more than I can say, but that’s not the same as living with another human.


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The last post about labels (for now), part five

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I’m back for one last post about gender identity and labels.

Ha! We all know that’s not true. It may be the last one for now as I put in the title, but it’s certainly not going to be the last time I talk about gender, as much as I would like it to be. Yes, I could try never to think of it again, but that’s nearly impossible in this world.

Oh, here’s the post from yesterday. We’ll see if  I actually write about what I intend to write about.

When I was talking to K about gender identity, I said that it’s easy for me to accept gender changes in people because gender didn’t mean anything to me. If you remove the socio-political meaning from gender (which, I know, is impossible to do), then in really has no meaning in and of itself.

I mean, that’s pretty simplistic because you could say that about any word, really. A term has a basic meaning, and then it has the meaning that a society infuses it with. But in this case, I really am lost at sea with the word.

Side note: It’s interesting. I do not have the same struggle with other labels I use. I mean, I don’t like bisexual as a term, but it does at least come close to describing what I consider myself. I and many other bis think of it as people like me and people not like me (the bi part) rather than two genders. Of course, there are other people who use pansexual or omnisexual, but as I have said before, I don’t like either of those.

Damn. I Googled, and there are some really bad terms like ambisexual, switch-hitter (uggggggh), hermaphrodite?!? and androgynous. I like the last word, but it’s not a synonym for bisexual. Someone was complaining about there not being another word so you have to say ‘sexual’ in the label. Uh, no. I call myself bi. Many bis I know do it as well. Bis looks weird to me, but bi is fine.

I’ve made my peace with bi. It’s fine, though I would prefer just to say sexual. But, again, it sends the wrong message. Sigh. It is what it is, and it’s fine.

Taiwanese American? Also fine. I am American with Taiwanese heritage. That’s pretty straightforward, and it doesn’t really need much explanation. It’s also the one I think the least about now. It gave me a lot of drama/trauma when I was younger, but I’m mor e than fine with it now.

Areligious? Yeah, I fully embrace that one. I do not know if there is a god, multiple gods, or no gods, and I don’t care. That’s why I choose areligious rather than atheistic. God can do what god is or isn’t going to do if there is a god or isn’t. It doesn’t really affect my life…yeah, I’m not going to get into that because it’s not the point of this post.

I’ve embraced fat, too. It flusters people when I say cheerfully that I’m fat. I know it’s because it’s considered a horrible negative in this society, but it’s another thing that makes me snicker. There’s something truly magical in not giving a shit. I highly suggest it to everyone.


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Let’s talk more about labeling (part four)

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I was talking to K today, and we were talking about gender identity. It’s something we’ve talked about quite a bit, and we’ve been on the same page about the concept for our whole lives. She once said to me that she admired the way I easily adapted to people’s genders. We talked a bit about that, and I said it was because gender was unfathomable to me (just like it’s hard to describe the color blue to a blind person), so I accepted people’s genders without a murmur.

When you drilled right down to it, why did gender matter? Not in a sociopolitical sense because it matters a great deal in that way (and as a way to show solidarity/fight the patriarchy), and, yes, I can see why it’s important to individuals as part of their identity, but as a way of gatekeeping who can call themselves what gender, I am not a big fan of it. At all.

I have  thought about this so much, it makes me tired. If I were going to be totally real–oh, here’s my post from yesterday in which I said I was going to talk about labels and dating, but then didn’t. If I were going to be totally real, I would just like to never have to think or talk about gender again. Just let me beeeeeeeeeee. There’s nothing I can or can’t do based on my gender, really, so why should I care?

This is where I get tripped up every time. I can do what I need to do regardless of my gender, so why do I need to have one? No one can explain this to me to my satisfaction, which is how I feel about a lot of things. There are times when I just have to accept that I will never truly get it. The only reason I think about it is because it’s so important in this world.

I’m saying this with zero snark–I don’t understand why the heavy emphasis on it. I know it’s me beacuse most people do care about it a lot. I would not care that other people cared so much about it if it was just for themselves. I’m very big on live and let live, but the ‘let live’ part has to go both ways.

Which it doesn’t. At all.

It’s really depressing that all the progress we’ve made is getting torn up in this presidency. I can’t even get angry because I’m just so drained and exhausted. I know that’s the whole point of this spate of terrible laws, but it’s working. And this is one reason I will never date a Republican.

See how I did that?

I had that in a dating ad thirty years ago. I said I would date any gender, race, religion, creed, but not a Republican. I wasn’t joking, even though I put it in a jovial tone. I’m even more not joking about it now. If someone is a Republican in this time and age, that’s all I need to know about them.

As I’ve said, it’s funny when people who don’t give a shit about discrimination in general (or covertly/overtly support it) want to bleat about discrimination in dating when it’s against them. People are allowed to discriminate in their dating lives, and it’s especially true when the discrimination is based on something like ‘this person doesn’t believe I should exist’. Or ‘this person is a racist sexist piece of shit’.


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