the girl from enchilada 🌻🌺

I wanted to expand upon this in a journal entry as there aren’t enough characters in a status.

My main kink is one of the abdominal region. I have always been attracted to fuller, thicker, heavier bodies, though I feel plenty of attraction to slender bodies: I can think of a number of thin men in particular whom I have found absolutely gorgeous because there was just something about the shape of their body, like there’s a beautiful, full shape to their hips and thighs in particular.

But my eyes always wander right to the belly.

The guy I have a crush on right now is the best example of a skinny guy who packed on a bunch of weight with age—plus, he’s got long hair and he’s very intelligent, which is the trifecta for me. I often find myself thinking about his belly, how thick and round he’s gotten, and one time, a few years back, when his belly was looking really Buddha-like, I made a joke about wanting to blow raspberries on it. I think about touching him and feeling him, about holding him and cuddling with him, about being close to him. Maybe even reaching down below that big gorgeous belly and giving him a tender feel with my masseuse’s hands. I’ve been thinking about him naked, anyway.

(By the way, yes, that joke got a laugh out of him. In fact, he started more or less teasing me about it after that).

I cybered with one of his buddies one time, too, another fat boy with long hair: he posted a picture of this big plate of German food and I said “eat up, big boy” and he went, “big boy?” like, totally mortified by that. I hesitated for a second, thinking I did something wrong and then he sent me a picture of himself after he used the bathroom with a big stupid grin on his face. Made me giggle my head off and everything. 

In fact, I wrote a piece of erotica about it immediately after that, and he flirts with me, too.

But the kink makes me disgusted with myself, if I’m honest. Ever since I was little, I always squirmed in my seat whenever someone talked about feeling full or touched their belly in some way. I squirm and start to sweat when a guy with a slight belly overdoes it and he gets kind of “delicate” there, like his belly absolutely bulges out like a little seedless watermelon and I can see the outline of his belly button under his shirt—bonus if he’s wearing a button-up shirt and you can see a little pressure on the buttons. 

I squirm because it’s actually really sexy for me, but I don’t really like talking about it. I feel embarrassed, I feel awkward and raw, and I always want to turn away and put a paper bag over my head.

I grew up in the anorexic-chic 2000s, the time where tabloids openly shamed female celebrities for their bodies and if you were a girl or a woman that didn’t have the “banana” body shape and/or weighed more than 100 pounds, you were fat and therefore undesirable. I’m seeing that mindset make a return with the caliber of nightmares as of late, too, with Hollywood having developed (renewed?) an obsession with thinness, GLP-1 injections being everywhere, and AI-generated ads being incredibly open with the fatphobia, and I heard it has to do with capitalism advancing as hard as it is. You know, we have to save money and stop eating breakfast. We have to stop drinking water so AI can progress full steam ahead. And you kind of expect the phrase “fat fuck” to pop up in there somewhere even though you’re 4’9” and 100 pounds (or 5’7” and 140 pounds in my perspective).

I also think it has to do with the fact that I wasn’t really allowed to wear something that showed off mine when I was growing up. I always heard that I should be covered up there at all times. When I was dealing with the peak of anorexia at 13, I wanted nothing more than to cover up with oversized shirts. I especially wanted to cover up when I was 14/15 and started gaining weight and getting a little belly myself. You know the whole thing about “what you resist, persists”, well, it wasn’t until I started auditing myself in 2019 when I realized that doing that to sexuality is one of the worst things to foster. Hell, even before the start of my audit, I always found it bizarre whenever someone cringes at the sight of boobs or the mentions of masturbation (my own hangup about masturbation, notwithstanding).

That’s what I think, anyways. I’ve chewed on this for so long, it feels like.

I’m just thinking of that man’s big sexy belly and how he holds it so well on his body, and I feel like I can’t really talk about it, even with his flirting with me. It makes me blush and it conjures the image of a shy girl with her arms folded over her chest and her head bowed because it’s revealing and makes her feel incredibly vulnerable and out in the open.

I’m really considering leaving here.

I don’t like this site—I kind of hate it, actually.

This is not one of those ~grandiose farewell posts~ peppered with phoned-in gratitude for joining in on the ol’ sexual journey, by the way, because I may be an arrogant rat bastard, but I’m not that arrogant, though.

I have my reasons for this. For starters, I don’t like searching for my own kinks on here, if I’m being completely honest. Yeah, yeah, “it’s imperative to explore what you like”, but when it’s on display for everyone to see in your activity log, it doesn’t make it feel any better or any more comfortable, nor does it make me proud to have those kinks: if anything, that sentiment feels rather hollow with that in mind. I feel exposed, and not in a good way, especially when a fair number of my kinks feel rather delicate to speak about like my food kink, any of my textile kinks, or my love of chubby men. You know how the word “consent” gets thrown around to the point it’s almost a noise now, well, it’s not a noise to me. Granted, I willingly opened an account on here and gave my consent in that regard, but I didn’t think it was going to be at this magnitude, though. I honestly didn’t think that I would feel this way: I came here to help myself, to become more comfortable with this part of myself, and it has backfired… rather badly, might I add. I’m just not happy to look up anything when I feel the drive to do that. If anything, I have to really force myself to hit the search bar.

Not to mention, when I do search for my kinks (I have this exact problem on tumblr, too, EXACT problem), I am met with an ocean of complete and utter unsatisfying shit, for lack of a better word. Let me give an example: just last night, I searched “long hair” and I was met with a bunch of svelte white women with cascading blonde hair. Expected as algorithms are primed to look for western beauty standards, but I digress. I simplified it down to “men with long hair”, and it was like the algorithm looked at me cross-eyed. It showed me exactly 4 things that I kind of related to but did very little to scratch my proverbial itch.

No better example of this than when I search for leather or lace, too: first of all, I’ll admit that I don’t know what to expect when I’m looking in either of those. Second, like “long hair”, it’s also absolutely flooded with posts that have nothing to do with what I’m looking for and am curious about, either. Next, and… apologies for in advance for this, too, I mean this. I really do. But I am seriously struggling to find people attractive on here. When I think about it, this is another problem I’ve had elsewhere, too; I think I’m pansexual (I think, anyways: I have gone over this more times than I ever would have liked), but I feel I’m attracted to people of any gender, albeit with a preference for men, and of all shapes and sizes no less, and I sincerely try to approach things with an open mind, but I am not the least bit aroused or excited or anything when I log onto here. If anything, I’m finding myself more disgusted as time goes on. I’m careful in who I follow, as I feel everyone should be, but when you reach a point in which potential feelings of arousal are replaced with you rolling your eyes instead, you wonder what happened. It’s not that I feel someone has no business posting that because whatever, you do you, it’s your life and body do whatever you want, and I wouldn’t have pulled the trigger and opened an account here if that was the case, but it’s more along the lines of “I was curious, checked it out, saw some more of it and got bored and uninterested almost as quickly as I got interested”, which leads me to my next point.

The worst offense this site makes? It’s all so unbelievably boring. Seriously, there’s a reason why I’m going more for music posts than anything on here anymore. I can get past the ugly if it wasn’t so goddamn boring on here. Nothing happens on here aside from petty-as-hell internal site drama that was tired and played out on Facebook in 2016, except now we have AI and enshittification involved. There’s nothing funny around here, either: I like when I make people laugh, but apparently, it’s too much to ask on here. Nothing funny. Just nothing. What are you even supposed to get attached to? Who are you supposed to get attached to? And then there’s the one question that I keep asking every time I come on here: what the hell do you even do? I started posting more erotic-themed art because I keep trying to dig those feelings out of me, and I have this very stupid, very annoying, very obnoxious sexual need to be seen, but I am just completely lost otherwise. I just don’t know what to do. I see people talking about events near them and I’m not the least bit interested or fascinated by those (and I’m getting more extroverted with age, too). I’m lost. Someone please tell me what is even the point of all of this. I’m a smart person, I’m well-read, I’m one of about 10 people in a hundred mile radius anymore that has never gotten into doomscrolling, I’m studying physical therapy and electrical engineering on my own terms so I’m not a dummy: you can tell me.

I’m not sharing my kinktober stories, by the way, as I have plenty of beef with that stupid challenge as is, and I know that stems from my need to be seen, too. I poured myself into the stories for the 2023 event and no one gave a shit, plus, there’s the point of feeling exposed that I talked about, and reading some amateur fictions on here, tumblr, and AO3 before or after posting my own and I feel like a UFO by comparison… yeah, I hate kinktober. I really only do it for myself and my own benefit, anyway. I guess I’m just not comfortable with sexuality, which sounds odd given how much I’ve audited myself in the last seven years and how often I’ve been making erotic art and writing, especially as of late, but my discomfort stems from one simple sentiment, and that’s “this is it?”

Seriously, this is it? You’re telling me that this is what sex is? This is what having something that vaguely resembles a sex life is? I was expecting something rapturous and empowering, a good time, something more, and it’s all so ordinary and dull, and gross at times if I’m honest, and I swear to god, the number of clichés abound is enough to warrant drinking games (e.g., take a shot every time someone says “sexual journey”, or take a shot every time you come across a woman who claims to be “sexually empowered/confident”). I have more fun flirting with and making a pass on long-haired chubby guys on instagram than the almost-year I’ve been on here.

So, if that’s the case, I actually want no part of it. I want no part of something that is so ugly and boring, and admittedly makes me feel ugly, too. I’ll be the first to admit it, too: I hate sex. I actually hate the idea of it as I’ll admit to being a virgin, too (that’s not an invitation for you to DM me saying you want to take my virginity as I’m of the belief that it’s a made-up concept, by the way). I’m trying to look at people with an open mind and… I just can’t. I was expecting sensual delights no woman has ever dared dream of, and I instead end up backing away after like 2 minutes. I don’t like seeing pussies in my face and if I’m honest, I don’t like my own. I’m bored with my pussy, actually. The lips are smooth, kind of olive in tone, and surrounded with thick dark hair, honestly who the hell cares? what’s special about it? I don’t get “immense pleasure“ from there, either. I get maybe minute nuggets of pleasure and then they go away (sometimes I wonder if it’s broken at all because I get very little if anything there in the times I’ve masturbated, too). It’s the same story with my breasts, too: I touch my nipples and I end up grimacing from the feeling. I feel no pleasure, even when I touch my own body elsewhere—I mean, I will, but not in this swoon-worthy over-the-top fashion. When I read about women finding droves and droves of mind-blowing pleasure and screaming orgasms in their bodies, it’s like I’m reading hieroglyphics: I just can’t relate. You know, in real life, I hardly get any looks. It’s bad enough that for years on the internet, a woman with a personality like mine was/still is vilified, which I have never understood in the slightest: you want women to be empowered and confident, but the second she’s mouthy or crass or blunt or forward or or direct in any way, or demonstrates opinions that are unpopular (excluding right-wing nonsense because the right is backwards, anti-woman, and have dug their own graves at this point), or demonstrates a masculine personality, you wag your finger at her and shame her. And then you wonder why you’re surprised when she says she’s a virgin. I’m obviously happy to make a move but it’s apparently too much to do that to me—and I should say that, when it does happen, it’s always smarmy and unwelcome. There’s only been exactly one time where it is and has been welcome and I’m not sure if it’s because he just moves about very silently, but the poor man seems frightened to take it any further. I can’t blame him for that, either, and I really don’t want to get into that because it’s complicated; and I get that I’m like an axe to the forehead but I’m having to constantly remind myself that this guy likes me. And I’m getting more anti-instagram with time, to boot. But I would at least get looked at, though. At least I thought I did, anyway. Growing up, I would hear things like “did you see those boys checking you out?” and I honestly wouldn’t remember seeing anyone else in the room with us. I posted selfies on places and received likes, but I never knew if any of it was sincere at all. I’m just posting a picture, what do you want? Plus, I never get called “hot” or “sexy”, only “cute”. I also hear “beautiful“ thrown my way on occasion.

I also get creepy guys leering at me. But I have literally never seen the word “sexy” thrown my way. I have literally never felt desirable or desired. Of course I don’t see myself in that light. Of course I don’t feel like a “sexual being”, and refuse to identify as such, either. Of course I feel… I want to say “out of place” on here.

And given AI has completely ravaged the general population at levels that would have been unthinkable in 2020, I can say without even thinking about it that it’s not me (yeah, a chesty 30-something woman with a thick body like an hourglass, toned legs, and a long Ariana Grande ponytail down to her waist shows you a little Mona Lisa smile as you’re walking past, would it kill you to at least acknowledge her existence? yeah, it’s not me), so with that being said, I’m not uncomfortable enough to turn to those AI boyfriends/girlfriends because those aren’t real and they’re also predatory.

I can’t get past the racism on here, either. Or the antisemitism. Or the misogyny. Or the misandry (yes, that exists in droves, too, put that in your pipes and smoke it, radical feminists). Or the AI posts: I’m almost at the point of thinking that if it’s not from Wikipedia or a source I’ve already been following since before the AI explosion, it’s probably AI. I want to believe that it isn’t, but I’ll never forget the article from last year saying that the majority of internet traffic is from bots, and I know that number’s gone up since then just thinking about how quickly the whole thing is proliferating and creating a feedback loop for itself. It’s not just here, either: it’s every social media platform (lol, see what I did there?)

By the way, I don’t want to hear preachy comments about the importance of authenticity or ~being yourself~ either, because I feel that, with all of that in mind, at this point, it’s useless. We can’t win against this bullshit when it’s advancing at mind-boggling speeds on a daily basis. I have seen and heard more lectures about authenticity than I ever would’ve like in the last year alone anyway, and to the point I wonder if people are just saying it to sound important, but with the way things are right now, it’s pointless. It’s bad enough that I was hesitant to open commissions for art for years, and I’ve always been treated as weird because the long-time collective belief is that if it isn’t photorealistic, it’s garbage, but now you’re telling me that accounts that have made AI their bread and butter are getting all the money and glory, what is even the point of sharing it anymore.

It’s all pointless. Being on here is beginning to feel incredibly pointless.

I hope you can understand where I’m coming from with all of this, and I hope you can make sense out of all of this, too. I don’t want to be on here anymore, because it’s not fun or substantive, but something keeps nudging me back, though, telling me to keep at it, and I don’t know if it’s just the dopamine or something else. It’s kind of the same thing that makes me come back to examining my sexuality as a whole, too: something keeps telling me not to give up, as painful and negative as it is, I need to soldier through it, except that’s happening on a personal level.