I've always been annoyed by posts where people talk about shutting down their blog. They almost always seem like cries for reassurance of love. I always thought, "Either just do it, and shut up about it, or don't do it--just leave the blog hanging there until you're ready to write again, if you ever are."

But it turns out lately this is the only thing on my mind, so I guess I'll write about it.

I've been thinking of shutting down this blog.

I'm not writing this so anyone can beg me not to do it or anything like that. I just need to get this out of my head so I can process it. I'm not going to make this elegant and it may not even be thoughtful. I'm tired, and my brain and spirit are tired tonight.

This blog has been useful. It started out as one thing, it turned into another thing. Sometimes I miss what it started out as; a rip-roaring discussion forum about sexuality that got lots of linking and slightly under a thousand readers daily sometimes. Sometimes I don't miss that at all. Sometimes I like what it's become, more of a personal journal with wide-ranging subject matter, and a window into my brain as I make a journey I needed to make to heal a lot of old wounds. This format is only getting a couple of hundred hits a day as compared to before, but it continues to seem to help people here and there, and that's a nice thing.

Plus, and perhaps most importantly, it's been a great way for me to sort through my thoughts on any matter of issues as I have made said journey.

That journey isn't over and because of that I feel a certain fear about shutting down the blog.

Another benefit I've gotten out of it is, it seems I've shown myself people are attracted to my original writing. Even though why at this point I need more reassurance of that, I have no idea, since I've had lots of reassurance of that over the years. Yet, I still seem to need it.

But other facts are also out there. Much as I've loved many parts of the experience, and much as I love all the interesting and lovely readers I have and have had:

1) I'm getting increasingly sick of focusing so much of my life online.

2) I feel I should be focusing my time and energy on other things that could bring greater benefit to me in my actively-lived life than this blog does, where no one knows who I am.

3) There are things I want to say that I find now I can't say on here. Which is ironic, because I started this blog so I could say all the things I couldn't say in my real life, about whatever I was feeling. Now I find that I've got a double bind. I have to think carefully about what I can say and do in BOTH my blog life and outside life. I also have to make sure they don't overlap. I can't connect my blog friends to my real life friends and events. I can't connect my real friends to my blog friends. The whole thing is just feeling like a big ass secret and I'm sick of fucking secrets.

4) I'm not honestly sure many people are getting value out of the blog anymore; I really don't know if many people still read it, and if they do if it's at all worthwhile to them--and if that's the case, why do I need a public forum for my thoughts? I don't know; I'm starting to feel like a disappointment.

5) It seems I've never been very motivated to make something out of this. I've been completely negligent about promoting the blog in any way that would increase readership. I don't have the obligatory list of little buttons for the billions of aggregator sites. I don't write the kinds of posts that I KNOW will titillate and increase readership, even though I could. I don't do twitter. I don't care about social networking. I don't do ads. I just sit here and write what's in my head. Why? I don't even know. I guess just to see if anyone's out there, to hear what they think? To just write? Not that that isn't a noble impulse. And I'm glad I've gotten that impulse back; this blog has helped show me my writing instinct isn't dead--that I am still creative and I can write whatever I want to and people will respond. But lately, I've just felt boring--I haven't been particularly proud of what I'm writing of late and I don't seem to have the motivation to write masterful stuff I am proud of.

6) I feel a huge pull to just disappear as if I were never here.

It's that last one that's been keeping me from pulling the plug. There's something weird about that one. I'm not sure why, but it needs to be thought on. Why do I have such a strong impulse to do this? I mean, even if I never write another line, why not leave it up until such a time as my web hosts tell me I have to get off and stop wasting their space, or until my domain name expires at least?

I don't know. Part of me feels like the person I was when I started this blog is gone. I mean, obviously, I'm still here, physically. But the mindset I was in has changed. I feel different now. I'm not sure I want to keep operating under this blog title, or under this "persona," even if it is (or was) very close to who I truly am.

In some way, I'd like to keep writing here, to show the journey from start to finish. To be the complete arc, so people can see how it works.

But in another way, I feel like Miss Syl and Sexeteria are dead. I'm not feeling what I felt when I started, that prompted me to create either of those names. And I just want to move on to a new life, and that persona I needed when I began...maybe I don't need that anymore.

Maybe I want to erase it and pretend I was never there. Or maybe I don't want a reminder of where I was. Maybe it's too difficult to look back on that.

I don't want to lose all my old writing. I've done some damn good writing on this site, I think.

If I started a new blog under my real identity, I'd never be able to refer back to this stuff.

Or I guess I could. I guess i could pull it into another blog with another name.

But why would I even want to start another one when I'm closing this one? And when I feel like I want to erase the feel of the old blog for good?

And if I did leave this blog, I wouldn't be able to go back and look at all my friends' stuff anymore... or at least, not comment...

I don't know. Is shutting down running away, or walking away from something that's gone on too long? Or has it gone on too long.

I have no idea. I need to sit with this more. I'm not shutting down as of yet; but I can't stop thinking about it.

I reserve the right to completely change my mind tomorrow and negate everything I've said here and keep writing as if I never said any of it.

But if someday I take it down out of the blue, at least now you'll have some inkling as to why I may have. Or maybe not. Maybe it'll be for an entirely different reason I didn't include on the list above. There are some of those, too.

I'm tired; I need to go to bed. I'm sorry if this post was boring or all over the place.

I wish everyone much love and friendship during the long weekend. I wish it for me, too.

Today, I realized, is the two-year anniversary of this blog. I suppose I should have prepared for it ahead of time so that I had something eloquent and thought-provoking to share. As it is, I've been laid low with the flu for a few days and the date barely registered until it was almost over. I will try to break through my medicinal haze to say something, at least. And I hope it will make sense. I'll let you be the judge, as I'm far too foggy right now.

A lot has gone on for me since I started this blog. Year one started with me being completely oblivious to why I really started the blog, thinking I was "just" going to create a forum for discussions about sexuality. By the end of that year, it had become a lot more than that for me, and the posts became not only about sex, but also about a number of different topics. The writing had become highly personal and confessional in nature, compared to my original intent. By the very end of 2006, I had divulged just about everything I'd ever been ashamed to tell anyone in this blog, and had also begun to do so in my outside life. It was a huge transition for me, and it was a difficult road to climb. There were times I thought I'd never see the light of day; I feared at points that I'd destroy myself in the effort I was making to heal and care for myself. But I kept going, and in the end, despite how scary it was to go through all of that, it was worth it.

And, by doing all that, when January 2007 rolled around, I was beginning to see the proverbial light at the end. I started the year out with a list of demands for what I wanted from that year. And I named it "Start Wearing Purple for me NOW, 2007," in tribute to a song by a band I'd become enamored of--a song that embodied the spirit of how I wanted to feel that year. At the time, that feeling seemed like a hopeful dream, but I hadn't felt it yet.

This New Year's Eve, I travelled to another city to see that band play,* and I met them. I hung out backstage with a bunch of interesting strangers, and they were interested in talking to me. And I felt like I was home. Not necessarily home because I was in some VIP area; home because I could go out and talk to strangers and not feel self-conscious. Home because I could enjoy myself without worrying that someone would think I wasn't worthwhile, or was too boring, or not a glamorous enough body type. Home because I was surrounded by smart, creative people who were not sad and dark; who were instead alive and energized. And still fucking cool. Home because I could have fun in the moment, and even decide to NOT do everything that was offered to me, and still feel happy and secure with my choices. Home because all I was was happy and laughing and enjoying the company of other people and of good music, and not thinking or worrying about anything else. Happy because I was being myself and only myself, and I was, finally, once again, glad to be her.

For me, that says a lot about what went right in 2007. It's been a slow and steady progress, but it's brought me to a place worlds away from where I was when I wrote my first post in 2006. Because while that "virgin post" in 2006 had a playful, cheerful tone, I was far from that. That was me, feeling very alone and very lost and dark, but putting on the "I'm just fine" mask I'd put on for the world for decades.

In January 2006, I wasn't cheerful, I wasn't playful. I was pretending. But at the moment when 2007 crossed into 2008, I was cheerful and playful, for real. And let me tell you, those two states of being feel worlds apart. There's no comparison. At all.

I'm not wearing the mask for the world anymore. In fact, the only articles of dress I'll be putting on from here on out will be strictly for my own pleasure. And I intend to not cover up very much. I'm not afraid anymore to show myself. I can actually wear purple now, literally and figuratively, and not even be that afraid of the attention I may get for it.

Yes, there's still work to be done. Yes, there's still road left to travel. But I've traveled a long way, and it looks like the gypsy caravan just pulled up to gave me a lift. I'm looking for a fun, weird, creative, inspirational, musical, wonder-full ride in 2008. I wish the same for all of you.

As for the blog and its anniversary, I'm not sure I ever imagined I'd still be doing it two years in. In the last few months, I've thought of ending it altogether. I've thought of renaming it. Of starting fresh with a new blog. Of just changing the look. Of not changing anything and just posting irregularly. Of trying to post regularly again. I've come to no decisions. So. We shall see. But one thing's for sure: whatever I decide, you've not heard the last of me.

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*To get a sense of the transformative, transcendent, fuckin' rock-n-roll supertaranta gypsy punk party party afterparty experience that is Gogol Bordello live, check out this review of a live show. It's not from the show I went to, but it's like that at every show. Best attempt I've seen to capture the experience in words. Go see them live. You will never be sorry.

photo credit: Dansu Dansu Dansu by said&done

...looking at my blog is making me sick. What was I thinking with the pink?

But I keep thinking it's silly to redesign it if I'm barely posting. And is anyone still reading? Shout if you actually see this post.

Sometimes the thought of blogging can be a pain in the ass, but it does have one fucking amazingly positive aspect to it. And that's it's just ME, raw and uncensored. Always. No one can tell me to refine it or make it better or that I should do it a different way. Or to not talk. People can read or not, and it doesn't mean much; I can keep writing or not, as I please. No one can try strongarming me with threats of firing, financial loss, audience need, or witholding of affection to change the way I express myself or what I choose to say or do on this blog. It's all my choice, and I've deliberately made choices to this point about how to operate on this blog that would protect me from any such influences ruining my ability to speak and act on here exactly how I feel like.

Because sometimes it can feel like my whole life has been a series of situations where I'm being evaluated, and then being told I've done it wrong, or could have done it better. No matter how good I am, someone has to tweak it, or ask me why I didn't do it some other way that they think is better. I grew up with that shit, and then I ironically chose a career that's full of that shit. I've chosen relationships that were all about that shit. I've chosen a life full of my first effort never being fucking enough, never just fucking being appreciated for what's there.

I'm sick of always being evaluated for how close everything I do comes up to par. I'm sick of the sense that there even IS a fucking par. I'm a good person. I'm fucking TRYING. ALL. THE. TIME. Goddammit! Isn't that what's important? The effort, not the execution?

Well, I'm tired. And I'm not your fucking frilly boardwalk prize doll. Stop picking everything I do apart. Just fucking love me, accept me, or get the fuck out. And that declaration is addressed to myself as well.

On days like today, I look back at all the choices and steps I've made in my life and have to fight off a feeling of despair. Why would I have chosen some of the things I did, back when I did? And now, it's so hard to change some of it. For instance, let's say I suddenly realize I've chosen a career that reinforces the worst patterns in my life. The ones that revolve around fueling my negativity about myself. Well. A whole new career? What the fuck will I do and how can I afford THAT? And how about my friends? My relationships?

It's all so much fucking work. A whole life overhaul? Jesus. I've been working fucking hard enough as it is.

I just feel so angry at myself. I feel as if, if I'd been able to make better, smarter choices; if I'd been more impenetrable or more conscious of the forces around me, I wouldn't be in this place.

And there. There's the editorial shit again. As you see, it never stops. "Why the fuck did you choose that? Wipe that; make it better." If I don't choose someone else who will say it to me, I'll say it to myself.

Well, even if I do, at least here, no one can tell me I said it wrong. Or, I suppose they could, in comments. But no one can *make* me change what I wrote because they want me to give them something else. A better, more improved me...who isn't me at all. On here, you get whatever I'm giving out, no more, no less. It is what it is. And that's all it has to be.

Know what I haven't done in a while? Talked about sex. Well, baby, tonight's the night (though you'll have to hang in a bit to get to it).

One thing that's interesting about this internet world--and the written word in general--is the perception aspect. That is, the perceptions one builds of the people one reads. Much like reading a book where you create a mental image of the character, people read a blogger's words and filter them through their own imaginations and experience. And whether deliberately or no, a picture of what the person would be like to interact with in "real life" develops--you invent an imaginary voice for the person, an imaginary height, body type...you think you "get" how that person would move or respond or act in real life.

I suppose this response is only natural. But it's good to remember that this imagined perception is all you, not them.

To make my case, I'll use myself and some of the assumptions of me that have been shared with me, and seem most pronounced.

Assumption #1: You know what I sound like.
One misperception that I've heard very often relates to my voice. People who have known me first by writing and then heard my real life voice are, almost, to a one, shocked. I've been told many times that my "typed voice" comes across as "tough" or some such thing. Generally people tell me they expect to hear someone with a voice that's "harsher." One person said they'd expected "loud and nasally, like Fran Drescher." Another person said they'd thought it would be "gravel and cigarettes throaty." Time and again, the perceptions shared with me are similar to those--they'll use words like "low," "hard," and "tough" for what they imagine I'd sound like speaking to them. I think they expect to hear some brassy Algonquin-round-table broad type who's going to shoot back double-edged innuendos at them while sounding horrifically jaded and mildly annoyed.

When instead, they get this.

Which by all accounts, my writing does not "sound like," at least to others. And yet, I type to the voice in my head, which sounds to me like my voice. I'd say everything I say here out loud. But often, people take what I say differently when write things, versus when I say the same things to them in my voice.

When people hear my voice, they tend to use adjectives like "soft," "sweet," "girlish," and "sexy." Some of those probably describe my personality more than "low," "hard," and "tough." Although I'm not a pushover, I have always felt far from tough. Ultimately I am and have always been, despite trying to fight it for many years, a nice person. A smart, thoughtful, resilient, sometimes clever person, too--but always kind--or that is my natural inclination to want to be, anyway. A sweet girl who happens to like talking frankly about many things--including sex. But this combination seems to come as a surprise to most people--like they assume the two could never go together.

Anyway, the point is, people tend to assume I'm a different kind of person based on whether they read my writing or hear my voice. People who hear and see me in real life tend to assume my soft voice and polite, kind mode of expression makes me a Nice Girl, and hence not very sexual--and are surprised when I am. Whereas many people who read my words without hearing the voice assume I am more sexual and powerful than nice.

Which leads me to my next example.

Assumption #2: I'd like to dominate you.
The "more sexual than nice" perception my writing seems to inspire in some also sometimes leads to the assumption that I'd have a domme propensity. Again, incorrect. While I enjoy many kinds of sexual play all across the spectrum, if I had to choose one end of the BDSM scale to define me (and I hope I never have to), I'd say I tend more toward sub. Inside I am sweet and shy and even a bit emotionally innocent. And so a sexually confident man especially makes my sweet, shy, innocent toes curl in delight (a genuine sexually confident man, that is, not a fake sexually aggressive blowhard asshole who's just covering for his insecurities).

I like being seduced by someone who knows how to do it really well, and the excitement of that power dynamic. I like being (genuinely) flattered and flirted with and growled at. I like being held down. I like being talked dirty to. I like being spanked and (if appropriate) being given orders. I like a guy telling me in a voice thick with desire exactly what he's going to do to me and how hard he's going to do it, and the affect he wants it to have. I like being thrown on the bed. I like being fucked hard. In short, I like feeling the power of my guy's masculinity; and I like feeling the power of feeling delicate and femme under his strength.

Of course, those are all mildly subby qualities--they're not a lifestyle. But I like all those mildly sub things, very, very, very much.

But even more than that, if you really want to know what I'm like...well, what pleases me most is the interplay of seasoned sexual equals. Two sexually strong people coming together; worthy opponents who admire each other's skills and are ready to engage all night long, surprising and impressing each other with unexpected moves, until they're exhausted and panting and ready to drop. Lion and tigress; Batman and Catwoman; ninja and pirate; spy and assassin. But then, even in those scenarios, I ultimately like the guy to "overcome" in the end. In short, I like you to feel big and strong. Really big (and strong). 'Cause you are. And 'cause it gets me hot.

Also, along with these, I do enjoy some sweet, affectionate, heartfelt vanilla lovemaking, too. Best is having all the above mixed together, if you can imagine having all that in one. That's what I like.

So you see, not a tendency to dom.

This is not to say I don't ever have fantasies where I'm in the assertive position. I do. But even in those, the dominant role I'm playing tends far more toward seduction (e.g., he shouldn't be fucking me and is restraining himself from reacting, but I overcome his hesitation) or teasing (e.g., he's strong but tied up and can't get to me like he wants to; straining against his bonds--very hot). And even in those scenarios, eventually the guy becomes strong and asserts himself in the end.

This is also not to say I never initiate or never assert myself in bed. I do. I almost always get on top at some point in a session (to me this isn't even a dominant pose, but I know other people think it is). And just like in reverse, I like telling a guy exactly what I want to do to him--and what I want him to do to me. And I will definitely do things to you without you having to request or order me to. I will suggest and try things I'm interested in. I will talk dirty to you.

No, I am not a shrinking violet in the bedroom, even if I like a little sub spice. I will almost certainly ask for what I want if i want something, or ask you to keep doing something if I like it--maybe even beg or scream for it--but the main point is, I won't generally demand it and then hurt you if you don't give it to me.

Because I'm not a big fan of the big hurt, whether physically or emotionally, of either my partner or myself. Mild, teasing hurt, sure. Spanking? A little biting? A crop or a paddle? Why not. But clamps? Cutting? Asphyxiation? Real, serious pain? Meh. I can see the erotic possibilities of it from a fantasy perspective, but ultimately it's not sexy for me to watch in real life.

Also not sexy to me: a guy who crawls, cowers, whine-begs, wears diapers, acts like a baby. I'm not judging here; it works for some, and that's just fine--it just doesn't turn me on. I simply don't like weakness in a partner in bed.

That doesn't mean, however, I won't enjoy being dominant in bed, IF we've decided that's the game we're playing. But I don't naturally go that way unless asked, and I don't feel comfortable being asked until I've established a trusting and different, non-dom power dynamic with that person first. I need to know the expectation won't be that I'm always the dominant, and that my partner has already established his sexual strength. Because I find a powerful person willing to submit briefly for play to be incredibly sexy. He doesn't HAVE to, but he wants to let me feel the power balance shift in my favor. He wants to feel what it's like to surrender that power for a while and, for instance, be fucked by someone else (something I've yet to try, but that I would try with the right partner). He wants me to enjoy the role reversal. And in that kind of a dynamic, I do enjoy it. I like to see a strong, grown man out of his element, and feeling pleasure in it. For a special treat. But ultimately, I don't want to stay there all the time. If the person wants me to consistently be the dominant one, I feel misunderstood and unnatural. To do that would to be playacting 24/7, and I prefer sex to be very, very real.

So no, despite having an apparently "strong" writing voice (even though I personally think I sound consistently vulnerable on this blog), I don't want to dominate you. Unless you win me over first with your big, strong man self.

And I if I am just getting to know a guy and the first thing he wants me to do is dominate him, I always feel just a bit creeped out by it. Because then I know he hasn't really seen me, hasn't "gotten" me at all--he's just made an assumption. It happens sometimes. Often with macho types, ironically. They'll come on all strong and I'll be squirming with delight at their assertiveness and then suddenly when it gets down to the first real, crucial moment...they want me to humiliate or dominate them. It's always a disappointment on both a bait-and-switch level and also because I end up feeling completely misunderstood as a human.

And speaking of misunderstood:

Assumption #3: Because I talk about sex it means I want to fuck you, or that I'm an emotion-free Fembot designed specifically for your pleasure.

This one I feel really deserves no explanation--it should be an obvious fact of life. But it is shocking to me how often men themselves are shocked by a woman who will talk about sex with frankness and openly say she enjoys it. And equally shocking to me are the assumptions some of them make based on that reality. I mean, come on fellas, is it really that rare these days? When a GUY talks to you about sex, do you assume he wants to fuck you, regardless of his orientation?

So for the record: just because I talk about sex with you doesn't mean I want to have sex with you. It means simply that I like talking about sex as one of many topics I enjoy talking about. It doesn't mean I am trying to turn you on, even if you do get turned on. Saying that I enjoy sex doesn't mean I'm thinking of having it with you. Necessarily. Of course, any of those conditions may be true: in some cases I might want to fuck the guy I'm talking to, or tease him to arousal, or I might be thinking about having sex with him. But this is not the rule by a long shot.

Think of it this way. Women talk about sex with their girlfriends a lot, but often not men BECAUSE of this very misconception. If you're a man and you want more women talking with you about sex, get past this misconception. When I talk to men about sex, I'm being equal opportunity. That is all (most of the time).

And also: no, I don't see sex as separate from emotion just because I'm openly sexual. Yes, I like sex. AND I don't do casual sex. These can actually coexist. I don't like or respect people who assume because I'm sexually open that I'll take intimacy lightly and think I'm cool with being treated casually after they've gotten off. I think it's rude and disrespectful. And as such I tend to be very picky about my partners. Of course, everyone makes mistakes sometimes, but I try my best to choose wisely to meet this expectation of mine. Many of you would probably be surprised at the relatively low number of full-blown (ahem) lovers I've had.

Anyway, to sum up: women do talk about sex. Get over it. Sometimes a cigar vibe conversation is just a cigar vibe conversation.

Assumption #4: Because I sometimes blog about sex, the first thing I want to talk about with you is sex.

In fact, the direct opposite is true. Off blog, the more likely a person is to head right into the sex conversation without attempting to speak to me like a normal person who probably has a variety of interests, the less likely I am to respond to them. Sex is only one of many interests of mine and only a small portion of what I'm about, just like you. And you don't need to communicate with me about sex, because you get to read that part of me on this blog (at least, you used to; lately the topic hasn't been inspiring a lot of writing). I like people; I am interested in smart, funny, interesting, multifaceted, humans. This is who I find pleasure in interacting with. I have absolutely no interest in communicating with "a raging hard on that has evolved the ability to type" (god, I wish I'd come up with that genius line).

Now if you can just imagine me saying that in the sweetest voice ever, maybe it won't sound so harsh. Heh.

End point: A blog gives you very little to go on. Even when people are totally genuine, we are all of us more than we appear in the little glimpses of ourselves we give you. I myself have been surprised multiple times when I've met online people in real life and something about them has completely clashed with my perception of them.

So, now....some of the assumptions above you may have held about me, some you may not have. I'm curious: Just for fun, what image of me do/did you have in your head? What do I look like, sound like, act like, dress like? I promise to debunk all misconceptions offered with the real picture (unless you ask me not to).

And for those of you who already know me off blog a bit--or for anyone else--what misperceptions do you run into most between your writing and in-the-flesh selves?

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Photo credit: moveable-type-blog by pub_lick_smith