Adam

First of all, the golden rule is "If you're afraid to say it, you have to say it". Do you feel a sense of anxiety surrounding something on your mind? Are you afraid to bring it up? Are you afraid of the answer? You HAVE to have that conversation. Since that golden rule was expressed to me i have had nothing but better and more fulfilling relationships.

Throughout this entire ordeal I've come across people I follow who, over half a decade later, I still follow on other platforms. And, others, who I do not. Some I remember and, others, I do not.

There are users on this platform who I can mention to my best friend of 10 years and say, "Do you remember so and so from the tumblr days?" and, sure enough, he does.

And again, there are some people I was following who I have no recollection of.

I've been having a lot of shower thoughts lately. Most recently about masculinity and previously about confidence.

Firstly, I had the thought, "Can one lose confidence once they've had it?" and, on a micro level, of course, I was once confident in my ability to do certain physical tasks that I am no longer confident at achieving because of a lack of practice. But 'confidence' as a trait, as a quality of oneself, on a macro level, can one lose that confidence?

It got me thinking about the flow of my life, and how, at one point in my life, I had a real bad case of what I now call "The cis het white mans". That is to say, the unearned confidence that cis het white men have because their privilege doesn't allow them to receive humbling experiences the same way as other demographics might. That is something I will be wrestling with indefinitely, but I feel confident saying that I have grown past (at least) a part of that.

I've always been the "SJW" of my friend groups. When that phrase first entered the common vernacular when I was in high school I was often called that, alongside "hipster" and other similar monikers. For the most part I was happy to be called those things and, looking back, am thankful for it because, ultimately, they chipped away at that cis het white man armor that I had. They softened me and made me open to the concept of other peoples suffering. This came to head in my early 20's when I dated a women who was blessed with a lot of sexual liberation when she entered college. It put a lot of pressure on me to be receptive and understanding to things I had never considered up until that point in my life. Further chipping away at that armor. Furthermore, this all came to a breaking point in my mid 20's when I lived with another very strong women who felt no fear calling me out on my shit.

Neither her nor I were ever perfect and I inherited a lot of bad habits and mindsets, as well as good ones, during that experience, but at the end of it all I am very thankful for all of it. To put it frankly, my cis het white man armor was finally broken, or at least I realized just how fragile it was, how it didn't really protect me from anything and that I needed to start from scratch building up who I thought I was.

So to bring it all back around, can you lose confidence on a macro level? Yes and no? I had confidence on a macro level, but it was false confidence. It was unearned confidence. Confidence I had because I had never had to face myself in all of my darkness, faults, and insecurities. Confidence I had put up as a shield to protect myself from the traumas of my childhood that I can't even remember now. So, if you were to ask me right now, was I truly confident? No. True confidence, the unshakeable confidence that one cannot lose. The macro confidence that comes from your chest. That confidence is only earned once one realizes that their worth comes from their own existence. I think the most unshakeable confidence one can have in themselves is when we finally realize that we are worthwhile, deserving, and purposeful in and of ourselves. Regardless of anything else. Everyone deserves to feel worthy simply because they exist.

So that's the confidence point. Frankly, I can't remember how this tied in to the point I wanted to make about masculinity but i'm sure it will come back to me as I ramble.

So, on to masculinity. I've been thinking a lot about masculinity and my manhood lately. I teeter back and forth as to whether or not I identify with manhood and masculinity. And frankly, I don't have a theoretical understanding of gender studies to feel like I can say anything about it confidently. but here are my thoughts as I understand them now.

I often FEEL like a man. And occasionally DON'T feel like I identify with masculinity. but is that because western masculinity has been so poisoned that it's hard to separate healthy masculinity from the mess that is outside of that? When i DON'T feel like i identify with it, is it because i'm realizing that I don't identify with the qualities of toxic masculinity presented to me? If that is the case, then what are the secure masculinity traits that I do identify with?

Recently I mentioned in a different post that I might feel non-binary at times. But, really, i don't think i do. I think i'm just struggling to separate the masculinity that I do feel versus that masculinity that I no longer identify with. And wrapped all up in that is learning to accept the feminine traits that are a part of me as well.

My answer is definitely love. Finding love, learning about it, exploring it, and meeting it head on has been the foremost adventure of my whole life. Love for myself and for others has been the most fulfilling and adventurous aspect of life I've had the joy of exploring in this body and mind.

The friends and lovers I've met have all been adventures in their own right. From ending up drunk in an alleyway with a friend as they cry over seeing a crush kiss someone else, to cuddling and holding a soon to be lover "platonically" just before I tell them that I'd wanted to kiss them since the moment I met them; the thrill of getting deep into another persons heart and mind, finding that connection and letting it take hold and grow, nursing it, feeding it, and occasionally being lost in it, is my favorite kind of adventure.

Especially getting lost in it.

Now, for a more conventional answer? I'll never forget the time I first walked into Oneonta Gorge in the Columbia River Gorge. 30 foot sheer rock walls slick with ferns and moss, while chest deep in freezing cold snow run off, walking half a mile before finding a pool of water at the bottom of a water fall. That feeling sticks in my mind.

Same goes for seeing Crater Lake for the first time. It is immense and powerful and I could never forget the first time I crested the edge of the caldera and saw the most massive body of water I've ever laid eyes upon.

And finally, going to Australia. This ties in the more conventional answers of specific beautiful places with my less conventional answer of love. I left my whole world behind, my home, my family and my friends to chase after a deep romantic love. I traveled over 11k miles to a far away land with little more than the clothes on my back and a little money. I knew I had a safe landing spot but nothing in life is certain and I could have just as easily ended up on the street as I could have been safely cared for for 3 years as I was.

I met people from all different cultures, worked a variety of workplaces, experienced so much love and life. Got punched in the face defending someone I cared about and was knocked out cold on the concrete before being carried home by people who cared for me. I explored the bottom of the ocean and lived on a boat for a month.

Written word is my form of art of choice. Poetry to some extent but largely prose and storytelling are the artforms that speak the most to me and come most naturally. So as a result, Dungeons and Dragons, my longest running hobby, has never been a form of escape so much as it has been an expression of art and an exploration of myself.

Also, when I am creating art, writing, I often don't have a plan or vision per se; I call it "Divine Inspiration". More often than not I am simply following a feeling and letting the divine flow out through me. Only after the fact do I go back and make sense of that inspiration and therefore make sense of myself. Hopefully someday, with enough practice, I'll hone that edge enough that I will gain the ability to focus it and use it intentionally.

Anyways, back to DnD. Every character I've ever made and loved, has, with retrospect, been an aspect of myself that I didn't understand. Rana was making sense of chaos and chance, Narcy was taming my pride, Dane was wrestling with the rewilding of myself. And most recently Torbrek and Scaade.

Torbrek was me making sense of my brother leaving, the anger it put inside of me and letting it go. He was making sense of the toxic masculinity inside of my and understanding my sensitivities. He showed me a lot about myself in regards to my natural state and how it shines through no matter how contrived of a mask I put on.

But now, Scaade, well, so far he is just divine inspiration. I feel his purpose welling inside of me and yet I do not have a full grasp on his significance to me and my growth. However I think I may have made a small breakthrough in regards to that. Long story short, he represents me making sense of the man I've become in the last year.

I've come to understand my charisma and confidence a lot more in the past year. I've learned to "tame" (for lack of a better word) a lot of the chaos inside of my head. Rather, I've learned to notice it's patterns and get a head of it. That has given me a lot of confidence in myself and made me a much braver person.

Like I had said, I experienced the greatest emotional crisis of my life while I was pursuing an ultimately failed engagement during my 3 year stay across the world.  

I thought I had found the love of my life.  I was willing to give up everything and, in many ways, I did.  I did not come out of that experience the same and lost the young man that I was for the slightly older man that I am now.

Part of what has made me so emotional and encouraged to write in this moment is that I’ve spent the last few hours of my day looking over my old poetry and posts and reminisced over what Tumblr meant to me and where it led me-- I met a wonderful, wonderful, loving and caring woman.  Someone who loved me harder than anyone has ever loved me.  Unfortunately neither of us were ready for what the entailed.  It crashed and burned and I left that prolonged experience completely and inexorably changed.  There’s a lot to say about that in regards to my world beliefs, but that’s for another post.  For now I want to focus on the relationship/love aspects of my life that are particularly on my mind rn.  At the end of it all, i’ve finally accepted that I’m a hopeless romantic who puts love and relationships at the forefront of who I am.

Since leaving Molly, I immediately sought out affection in any form.  If all I could have gotten was a quick fuck, fine.  But I needed physical affection to remind me that I was alive and oh god did I find it.  

About two weeks after leaving Molly I went on a tinder date that both me and my date assumed would only be a one night stand.  Her name is Kessel and she has blossomed into the healthiest and most communicative and romantic relationship I have ever been in.  I have so much to thank her for.  

It was during our first or second date, during a whirlwind time of romance and sex, that she told me she was polyamorous.  That if I wanted to continue seeing her I would need to be okay with that.  At the time I figured it was a good way to keep dating around while receiving regular (and very good) sex, without committing myself to any one person.  At the time I didn’t know how wrong I was.  I often refer to this stage of our relationship as the “Plane crash” days.  I was making huge mistakes across the board with my behavior and mental state.  It was thrilling and wonderful and satisfying but ultimately unsustainable.  Thankfully Kessel is brave enough to have pulled me back, told me that this wasn’t going to work for her, and got me to cool off.  

Again, there is so much to say and I’ll elaborate as the days go on. But i want to get to what's on my mind.

A handful of flings and budding relationships later and I feel like I'm finally getting a grasp on being poly.  It wasn't until a year into my relationship with Kessel, and the fear of losing her to distance, that I really had to buckle down and put the lessons I've learned from her to the test.  I broke up with a fling I had been seeing and have started to focus on the meaningful relationships in my life.  

As the astrology girlies always say, what you put into the universe you get back, and immediately so many blessings came my way.  I’ve met 2 wonderful people who, under the right circumstances, could be deep meaningful lovers of mine (unfortunately those circumstances are not and, most likely, will not be met. but it’s still a wonderful, fulfilling and meaningful experience all the same) 

But, finally, to the meat of my thought process.  I’ve had a situationship with a beautiful woman named Erin for quite some time.  It’s had it’s ups and downs and things have been all sorts of fucky.  But I had to take the advice Kessel gave me that I religiously proselytize whenever I have the chance, “If you’re afraid to say it, you have to say it.”

I finally got the chance to talk with Erin, tell her how I feel and ask her what she’s looking for. Because it’s obvious we’re in to each other but there is a lot of hesitation between us.  I was afraid to bring up my other relationships and the style of dating that I'm currently pursuing because I didn’t want it to turn her off.  Meanwhile, she’s afraid to explain her emotions because she just doesn’t have the communication skills to do so.   But like I said, I was afraid to say it, so I had to.  

She knew I was poly, I brought it up earllyyy early on, but it became something of an elephant in the room that we avoided as we anxiously hoped to kiss one another and never make a move.  

I’m not quite sure where to begin-- Re-beginning using tumblr the way I once used it.  A diary, a shoulder to cry on, a place to verbalize my thoughts and work through them.  I guess it starts with stream of consciousness like it always has.

I’ve put a lot of pressure on myself to write on pen and paper for this sort of thing, but I’ve noticed that when I write in my physical diary it turns into a sort of life update-- Here’s where I am, here is what I’ve done.  It becomes a short list of bullet points of the biggest happenings in my life.  And it loses it’s heart and soul.  It no longer is the flowing of thought that tumblr always was for me.  So let’s try to get back to that; writing as if no one is listening.  This isn’t for you, it isn’t for my children, it isn’t for archaeologists 100 years from now.  The servers that hold this information won’t exist by the time humans need to look back upon the society of the early 21st century.  And, frankly, it’s a whole lot easier to type that it is to write. 

So, what got me here? Well, for a very long time tumblr was my greatest creative and emotional outlet.  I wrote every thought I had here.  Up until I fell in love with someone who took over that roll in my life.  6 years later, a failed engagement, 3 years living in another country and coming back home during the greatest economic crisis since the great depression and the greatest emotional crisis of my life and here I am.  Tumblr died because of yahoo, and was resurrected (seemingly) because of Elon Musk’s sacrifice of twitter.