'Me Too' ...? Wtf? What Am I Doing?

Finally we arrive in an age where women feel the majority of the progressive public has their backs, allowing them to feel sufficiently empowered to voice their grievances with the men who have done them wrong with their persistent sexual advances, and many times so much worse.  It has been far, far too long and unfortunately will not be over any time soon.  But we have some modicum of progress. 

Random, related thought:  Harvey Weinstein had better not die of the current corona virus pandemic...that would be pulling a Kenneth Lay and getting off easy, never realizing punishment for his maltreatment of people and profiting from it.  (3/24/2020-12:56pm)

Please pardon me while I attempt to get to my point.  Writing is many times therapy, and as with the clinical environment finding the right words to express what is truly meant can be quite the undertaking even when one has a strong command of a language.  Mining those gems of realization and understanding. 

It is still difficult to talk about, even if I have mostly worked to understand and compartmentalize for myself to this point.  What makes this particular case unusual is that it feels strange...fucking strange...to be a six-foot, broad-shouldered, Caucasian male grieving something like this.  I do not remotely mean to dilute or otherwise diminish women's grievances, quite the contrary, this just happens to be my own experience with something related to what they are going through.  It will never be the same.  My heart goes out to them but I cannot possibly imagine what it is like to be a women, even today.  Always having to live with the idea that some wrong-minded male might take a malicious interest in you?  It conjures a crushing ache in my chest for them.  After staring out the window a while the only thing I can conjure that even approaches is that proverbial story of a soft, cute guy going to prison.  sigh

For some reason that recording of Amber Heard and her verbal abuse of Johnny Depp just came to mind.  I don't know the whole story, obviously, but that phone call revealed that it wasn't just Johnny who was allegedly abusive. 

I have festered over telling my own story in this #metoo movement.  Entitled, white male much?  At this moment I forget what the memes were but there was that whole 'poor me/us' by the bros of the world, complaining about how much more empowered women were becoming.  Suck it up, fellas...the fact that you bring that up at all shows how insensitive, non-introspective, and non-empathetic you are. 


It always felt incredibly strange...being a six-foot Caucasian male having troubles being seen as a sex object by women.  I won't get into why I am so sensitive right now, just suffice it to say that I am. Sex is wunderbar!  Fun.  Interesting.  Stimulating, expanding, exciting.  When you choose to play an active part in it.  Right? 

I am a cautious person.  Aware, alert, informed, usually prepared.  Only very calculated risks.  I have had just shy of fifty sexual partners in my just-over fifty years.  The vast majority fantastic women, ultimately even those I intend to complain (?) about here.  It is almost bizarre to me how difficult it is getting to the crux of this.  I am not speaking directly to even a single person.  I am throwing this out into public without the faintest idea of who, if anyone, will ever read this.  But it makes me feel better, even a tad moreso knowing that it isn't just sitting in a drawer on paper somewhere. 

Because while I generally shy from risk I also have zero skeletons in my closet.  If you ask me something about myself you had better be prepared for an open, honest answer.  It is up to you to decide how to react to me being me. 

I do pride myself immensely on being a person people can trust and feel completely comfortable with, especially women.  Yes, I am and always have been girl crazy.  How not?  There are billions of beautiful, intelligent...how can one not go nuts?  I try to think about those times that, under today's expanded introspection, I might have behaved less than desirable toward women.  I cat-called only people I knew, even as a teenager cruising streets in hot rods.  The idea of forcing myself on someone else is nauseating.  That said, there have been a few times of late and only with my most recent partner where I drank too much, got horny and when turned down got into that stupid 'you don't love me' mode which I cringe at.  Alcohol, drugs, moderation, fine, but it changes personalities.  It is absolutely no excuse - but it is a reason to control yourself and partake in manageable moderation.  Don't put yourself in that situation to begin with; I learned to come to terms with myself on that note and believe I of some years now have changed my behavior for good. 

My point?  Yeah...at this point, what happened with me?  To me? 

I am a very physically affectionate person, so my lady friends have always felt secure and comfortable just sitting next to, sidling up to, even sleeping next to me because they knew I wasn't going to do anything.  That said, I had heard a few times later on that they kinda wished I would have.  Sigh! 

My left thumb is twitching.  Related?  Driving me nuts.  Maybe typing this is stressing me in ways I am not aware of.  Probably...I am fairly uneasy right now and I am resisting the urge to give in to my ADD and partake in a distraction.  The odd thing is I am actually unusually focused, much moreso than 'normal' for me.  Though I just got a lot more hesitant in the last minute or two with a lot more typos to correct.  And I am holding my breath!  Jeezuz...and my shoulders shrugged tightly.  This is weird.  Foreign.  Unsettling. 

I have many times in my life put myself in situations where people crashed together.  Sometimes a bunch of us at a party or just chilling with a friend at her place or vice-versa, etc.  A few times even work trips in hotels with coworkers.  We've all been there one way or another.  On the plus side there's that comfortable ability to sleep and even snuggle next to your friends, knowing you don't have to worry about anything.  Except maybe snoring...

I have been fortunate.  Fifty years, lots of partners, the only malady I've picked up was twice backcountry hiking alone and managed to get slight yeast infections.  That is it!  Usually condoms when needed but there were times I decided to risk things a tad.  'knocksonwood'

I am also a heavy and light sleeper.  One of those people who can be downright dangerous if you wake me in a way my subconscious isn't familiar with.  A train can go by and not wake me but if the wrong pin drops I am UP. 

S0o...it was easy to go to sleep next to someone who you decide is safe and contact isn't unusual.  Nice even.

...

Ever had a nice dream?  I have.  They are...nice.  Sexual dreams (never had this 'wet' dream though...thankfully) are fun. The kinds I have had anyway; again, thankfully. 

It is an odd feeling when you wake from either a dead sleep or (sometimes) sexual dream to actively having sex. 

Three times this has happened to me with three different women.  Friends.  Aged early twenties to late thirties. 

Generally, I'd say I'd started waking to something...welcoming?  But then, as one gains consciousness, that realization hits and you get swept away (in my mind, anyway) with like HOLY SHIT SEX IS WTF WHO HOW WHAT?!  What did I do?  Say?  We...didn't drink or do anything last night, so...what?! 

I mean yeah.  They were all on top, I suppose obviously, but a friend in college used to tell me about how she could get her boyfriend to sleepfuck her while he was on top. The first time it happened I literally bucked the woman off of me. 

Generalizing to basically the same reaction each time and, for odd or maybe it makes sense, all three 'woke up horny', tried to wake me, found they had gotten a 'rise' out of me and decided to move forward with things. 

I am now simultaneously stimulated and stressed.  A fond memory (FUCK I can't type...!) combined with the thought that I could have been exposed to something I hadn't had a chance to consider consciously.  I've studied plenty on STDs, epidemiology, pathology, you name it.  None of them put a condom on me, and we all knew we'd had other partners, being friends who talked a lot about everything. 

It is that absence of choice that bothers me the most.  Right...?!!  Even in the absence of force. 

What gets me next is all three said things to the effect of 'I thought you'd enjoy it, find it erotic, thought you liked me' and others I don't immediately recall.  Well, sure - all of those things!  Darlin'!  But how do you come to terms with feeling such affection toward someone but also feel so...sigh...WTF is that word?!!

@#*(@&#^&...

VIOLATED. 

That mix is just disturbing.  Feeling tremendous affection for someone but also feeling violated by that person.  This reminds me that I ended up throwing up later that same day the second time it happened because I was so concerned about what I had been exposed to.  We were close but I knew she got around in what I'd call a less-than-safe manner.  It was ultimately OK as we both got tested but it left me scarred, moreso than the other times.  The third time I was like OK what the actual fuck?!! 

I am seriously amped right now and not in any good way but I feel compelled to get it out.  It has been over a decade that I've mulled over just writing this; very different from discussing it with another friend directly.  I am curious as to why this feels so much more difficult.  Is it the idea of it possibly being so public?  Maybe but I don't think so.  

I had what were ultimately interesting incidents/occurrences that have evolved considerably in my mind.  Two of them I continued sexual fun with (even that morning...).  Thankfully great conversations resulted from all of them and a lot of introspection and learning took place and for that am grateful. 

I experienced friends who felt a mutual closeness approach with nothing more than affection and positive intent.  

What I am left with is now that incredible tightness in my chest over that worst-case scenario...what women have suffered as a result of force from men.  Beaten.  Bruised.  Bloody.  Violated.  Raped.  Drunken gang-bangs in college frat houses.  Attacks anywhere and everywhere.  It makes me sick.  Physically sick. 

I need to go for a walk but my kneebee hurts.  And my head aches.  Enough for now.  My chest is really tight, too.  I feel like crying but not for me.  Once again for all those women who...sigh.

©2020 Michael Pichahchy