I live in a dorm. For the past three years, I have shared a house with 90 young women ranging from 18 - 23 years old. There have been a few 'older' women peppered throughout the house over the years, but for the most part, my housemates are young, loud, needy and always down to hang out. I don't mean needy in a bad way, but let's face it, that age is an emotional time for all people. So, I have grown to be a house mother of sorts.
Now, I see why 30 year olds are not mothers to ninety 20 year olds. It doesn't work. I made it work for a while, but I am excited to get out and have my freedom again. When I haven't been in the dorm, I go home and enjoy the luxury of sleeping on either my mother's couch or my best friend's couch. Before I came up here to go to school, I moved in with my ex in a last ditch effort to save our failing/failed relationship. So, for a total of 4 years, I have shared my space.
Generally, I just power through it. I go on dates, I study, I write, I take photos and I create space for myself where I can. But, I am at a breaking point. I need to graduate. I need my own space. I need to be an adult again. I need to masturbate without worrying if the 19 year old in the next room can hear my vibrator. These paper-thin walls are closing in on me and, if I don't lay down on the living room floor of my own place with a bottle of Jameson, a joint and a vibrator pretty soon, I am going to implode. I am tired of quietly making love to myself. I feel like my own fucking mistress. I need to fuck myself. Loudly and with freedom.
Sometimes it's fun with a partner. The idea of staying quiet, because we're having sex in my dorm room can be fun, but it's been a good two months since I've had a visitor here and between knocks on the door and the coughing of my neighbor, it's hard to focus on myself long enough to get off. I am tempted to make a sign that says "Do Not Disturb, Masturbating." This means, don't knock, don't call my room, don't sneeze, don't stand outside my door talking about the fucking bunny you are hiding in your room. Go away and let me handle my business. I am not trying to be knuckle deep and listening you talk about the argument you just had with your mom's boyfriend. I need my space.
So, every night when I go to sleep, I close my eyes and remember why I'm doing this. I came back to school to be a better me. I came back to gain the confidence I knew I had dormant in me. I close my eyes and I picture when brochure the gave me at the beginning of my senior year, "Life After Smith College." I can't wait. I'm done. This is why life works in cycles and phases. I was thrilled to be here when I got here. Smith built me up to be the woman I am, and now, I am ready to move on. If for no other reason, so I can be tied to my headboard while some nice gentleman knocks one out of the park as loudly as possible.
- Poly Amory
- I am the product-child of the Women's Lib movement. I have a grade A education, a promising career and no immediate goal for children or a spouse. I will be 30 this year and I have spent many years in monogamous relationships. In and out of 1 to 2 year relationships, I always dated with the goal of meeting someone special. Most of the time I didn't date. Most of the time I found myself falling into relationship after relationship. These relationships were doomed to fail. They were all built on expectations that were, for me, unattainable. I love meeting new people. I find sex enjoyable and empowering and I am not happy when I am monogamous. So, after my last break-up, after taking some time to grieve, I decided to cut my societal puppet strings and get back in the game. I set out on a mission to spend the Summer of 2010 dating as many men as possible. My only initial criteria was attraction. My only limitation was - no love and no structured relationships. This is my date by date tale of what life can be like outside of the goals of relationships and love.
- ▼ February (8)