Burning Out: Why Taking Breaks Is A Good Thing

by Anne Bloodrose, posted in Family, Health, Mental Health

Sometimes, stress gets to us in weird ways. It may show up as a permanent state of hyper vigilance, always looking out for the next drama bomb to explode and bracing for it; other times it can show as constant weariness, lack of energy, and a sensation of futility about one’s life and purpose that makes every day unbearable.

We all know the first situation. That is what we live every day, to a greater or lesser extent, in our contemporary world. That kid of stress is dangerous, but it is easy to identify and deal with — take a break, slow down, or engage in vigorous exercise are some of the common-sense recommendations that we usually hear to deal with this kind of active stress.

The second situation, however, is far more insidious, and just as dangerous as the first one. It develops slowly, surreptitiously, with the daily grind of life piling up, sapping energy, dulling your expectations, imposing limits, until it finally shows up as an overwhelming sensation that you can not bear with anything anymore.

This is what burnout is, essentially, and that is what happened to me.

Starting this past February, Second life had started to feel like a burden on me, and at the time I was still dealing with my mother’s treatments and recovery. It was difficult for me to see her weak, vulnerable and — for the first time in her life — not fully independent, having to rely on her child for support during the therapy.

I undertook this task with open eyes and conscience; I felt it was my obligation to her as her child to protect and support her now that she needed it most, like I had relied on her protection and support when I was a child.

Being so fully absorbed in caring for my mother though made me feel like everything else was piling on me at a moment when I needed to be fully focused on what I had to do, and so everything else I had in my plate, Second Life included, wore me down  and out, to the point that I had no energy to feel the care and support of my online family.

So it was that I decided to take a step back, and forget about everything else for a while. I placed Second Life (and everything else) in the back burner and, as soon as my mother’s therapy was concluded, I focused on myself, on getting my energy back and to improve my mental health, which had taken a large hit and had dragged me down to the point of feeling depressed and quite, quite useless.

That was in February. Now, in April, after a much needed mental cleansing, I am back in Second Life. I am still not fully in as I was before; I will be gradually increasing my activity until I reach my pre-depression intensity. It will take time, but I will eventually get back on my feet.

Emoting, or, The Art (And Science) of Expressing Yourself Through Text

by Anne Bloodrose, posted in Gaming, Second Life

When one spends a significant amount of time in an open-world, online metaverse like Second Life, sooner or later there will come an opportunity to express thoughts, feelings, impressions and actions through text in a roleplay context. The craft of conveying this in a terse, detailed, emotionally involving whole is called emoting, and that will be the topic of this post.

For some, emoting is as arcane as alchemy, whilst for others it will come as naturally and easily as breathing. Ultimately, though, crafting an effective emote comes down to exercising one’s creativity in imagining how a scene would play out if it was written.

In short, the craft of emoting is not just about picturing the physical environment, but also about imbuing the character performing the action with thoughts, actions and emotions that complete the picture and give a vivid, textual description of what is happening in the visual scene. This may seem reductive and simplistic, but there is more to emoting than it meets the eye. It can be as broad as one likes; on the other hand, an emote can be painstakingly crafted, textured with many layers of physical and emotional detail.

This does not mean that one must necessarily be hyper-detailed about everything: One may describe the setting in broad strokes, whilst focusing more on the emotional and physical reactions of the character. Conversely, the emotional description may not be as detailed, preferring the visuality of the scene to the actions and reactions of the character.

Emoting is limitless in its capabilities, bound only by what one’s roleplay partner considers to be acceptable or not; however, there are two fundamental roleplay etiquette tenets that one should always remember whilst crafting emotes.

First, never arrogate to yourself the task of describing actions and thoughts meant for your roleplaying partner. This practice, a major fault to roleplay etiquette called godmodding, is an improper way of emoting that is very common amongst certain kinds of role-players who like to steer both their and their roleplay partner’s actions in a desired direction instead of allowing an organic flow. The risk here is that the godmodder irritates their partner, who, seeing that they are an ornament, may decide to end the scene, leaving the godmodder to elucubrate over their fantasies in solitude.

For the second point, there is a brief, but needed interlude I must make.

Roleplaying is only effective if one can separate one’s thoughts and actions from those of one’s character. This is the In Character / Out-Of-Character boundary (In jargon, IC / OOC); and it is generally a safety measure, meant to preserve one’s emotional and mental well-being from being affected by actions that one’s character might enjoy, but one might not approve of. In this sense, emoting is like acting, in that one needs to wear one’s character’s persona, whilst keeping one’s truth separate.

We must remember that in Second Life, as well as in any open world metaverse, one’s avatar is one’s character. It reflects how you portray yourself to the online world. Therefore, a bit of the IC / OOC separation is inevitably lost. It becomes easy to forget this, and sometimes it happens that one might use information about one’s roleplay partner that one knows out of character but does not know in character to steer what happens in character. This practice, called metagaming, is also a major fault of roleplay etiquette. The risk one runs when one metagames is that one will not find roleplay partners at all – not to mention being banned from the venue one roleplays in.

With the necessary technicalities about roleplaying etiquette out of the way, now I can speak more about the basic things one needs to bear in mind when emoting.

First, try not to use a series of one-liners. It may have worked for SMS texting, but Second Life is not like SMS texting – if it was, we would have only 140 characters to play with; instead, we have (going by memory) 10000 characters in Firestorm to use. That is plenty of room to spread one’s figurative emoting legs. Another point about one-liners is,

One-liners
can be
extremely
irritating
to read.

Second life, like the old-school IRC chat, has a slash command that is extremely useful in crafting emotes: the message command (/me). When you start a chat line with /me in Second Life, you are signaling to the viewer that you are sending a message. You will see there is an immediate difference in how the text is presented: instead of appearing as “John Doe: says ‘Come here’” you will see “John Doe says ‘come here’”. It is an easy to miss, cosmetic difference, but it can be useful to separate actions (performed with the /me command at the beginning of the line) from dialog (performed without the leading /me command.)

Second, try not to use shorthand. Write out things, spelling them properly. Not everybody has the same English proficiency. For instance, English may not be your roleplay partner’s native language; in that case, be mindful of that and write out the words (bc mb ur rp pair cant ndrstnd wn u wrt w qwik txt ltt)*.

Third, be sure to have a way of communicating with your roleplay partner in an out-of-character way (for instance, through IM, or using the standard, ((double-bracketed comments)) if roleplaying in open chat.)

Fourth, communicate your intent. If you need to briefly step away from your keyboard, signal a ((brb)) when you go, and a ((back)) when you return; if your absence might prolong itself, signal an ((afk)) and an estimated time of your being away from the keyboard when you go, and a ((back)) when you return.

Communication is crucial in Second Life, because body language and other visual clues we give with our bodies are missing from it. Precisely because the layer of micro gestures and boy language is absent, it is very easy to stumble onto the domain of emotional and mental assault in Second Life; therefore, one must exercise great care in making one’s intent clearly known through descripting the body language or by wording one’s actions in such a way that one’s intent is unambiguous.

Knowing your roleplay partner’s limits is also important. What you might feel is acceptable could be unacceptable to your partner. That is why safe words exist. Pay attention to your partner’s reactions, and if the safe word is said, immediately stop the scene, then unbind and check on your partner. She needs your support now, so provide it. There is no ifs or buts about it. Caring for your partner after the safe word is said is imperative.

Last, but not least, give your partner time to write out their response. Roleplay is a dialog, made of action and reaction; if you do not offer an opportunity for your partner to react, it becomes a monologue.

I will not insult your intelligence by giving you examples of how you should craft your own emotes. I have given you the building blocks. As for what you do with those building blocks… Well, that is a task I leave to you.

* Translation: Because maybe your roleplay pair can’t understand when you write in quick text all the time.

The big C: No, It’s Not What You Think, Perv.

by Anne Bloodrose, posted in Family, Health

Ever since parting ways with Per, to whom I wish all the best, many things happened in my life. I found a new Dominant, and, more importantly, I have been dealing with The Big C.

In case you were already thinking “The Big C? She must mean chastity, is she in a belt?” let me say right now: It’s not what you think. (Perv.)

The Big C, in this case, means Cancer. Specifically, my mother’s breast cancer.

This has been known since early March of this year, when a routine check-up revealed an abnormal-looking cluster; further analysis made it definitive: It was a malignant tumor.

Mom is fortunate: The growth was found early, she is in good health, active and has taken care of herself, which makes treatment easier and much less invasive. She also has been disciplined about mammograms and self-examinations, yet in spite of that discipline, this tumor would have gone unnoticed for some time, as mum did not feel it in her self-exams, and would not have felt it until it was much larger and difficult to treat.

Even though this growth was relatively small, its treatment involved hormonal chemotherapy, surgery, and, now that the growth is excised,  a round of radiotherapy to kill off any remaining malignant cells.

Throughout these months, I have been providing support, help, and care to my mother — or as much care as she allows me to give her: If it was up to me she would be inside a hyperbaric bubble, not being let out for anything that was unrelated to treatments; but I can not have it my way (mom won’t allow it — and that is probably a Good Thing.) 

But I digress.

The point is, even today, with all the technology that we have at our disposal to treat a once life-threatening illness in such a way that it is no longer such a threat, cancer is not something to be taken lightly.

There are articles that respected physicians have written in respected newspapers that qualify cancer as a disease that needs to be treated holistically; among those avenues, there is the idea that cancer therapy is not a process that pertains to the oncological patient, but to their entourage as well. In simple terms: an oncological patient is not alone in dealing with his or her illness: their inner circle — immediate family and closest friends — shares a responsibility towards the patient to help with the treatment and the healing process, and in so doing bearing the weight of cancer becomes less burdensome for the patient. In that sense, it can be said that cancer is not just a one person illness, but an illness that affects many, directly or indirectly.

That is what I have been doing lately — Helping my mother to alleviate some of the burden of the oncological healing process, so her recovery is a speedier, easier one.

I would have done it regardless, mind. I see it as just another side of my filial duties towards her, part of that Fourth Commandment,  “Honor your father and mother” that Catholic catechism pushes into our subconscious since a very tender age.

These duties — which I undertake gladly and fully aware that they are mine to fulfil, no ifs or buts about it — have exacted an unexpected mental and emotional toll.

It’s not about the anxiety of what will come next, or knowing that at this stage — on the upswing from the nadir of diagnosis and initial treatment — things are looking up, like there is a new normal. It is the constant presence of the thought that has accompanied me since this March: “Mom has cancer, it’s up to me now to take care of her.” 

Perhaps this would seem overly protective of me; after all, mom also has dad; but dad… Dad, I think, still thinks that cancer is like any other illness, that you cure quickly, get well and move on. So there is little support other than the token moral support; much less than what a cancer patient needs.

Cancer is not like any other illness.

Cancer therapy is a life-altering event; it is something that will be with you for many months, even years. For mom, after radiotherapy, she will have to take the same drug she was prescribed at the onset of treatment for five more years. Five years of an altered hormonal balance, of side effects that had never been in her life before, but now are common, five years of things not being like they were before cancer.

 This is why I have been relatively absent from SL lately. I have something much, much bigger than myself to deal with, and I am dealing with it with less support than usual. It wears me out, bears heavy on me, and robs me of much of my energy. At the end of the day, even if it has been a good day, I feel drained. 

This is what I am contending with. It is a real battle, a battle of attrition where the weapons are not only technological but also spiritual and emotional.

I am confident that mom will make it through; she has faced tough battles before and she’s a fighter.

Until things are better, I will be in a state of semi-retirement from SL. For all that I enjoy being in the metaverse, I simply do not have the energy for it. Yes, I will still log in, say hello, stay briefly, and then log out, unless there is something important going on that requires my presence.

 SL has given me a circle of virtual friends and family to which I have grown dearly attached to; I want you all to know, I carry you all in my thoughts and in my heart, always.

When I am feeling better and with more energy, have no doubts: I will be back, and that is a promise you can take to the bank, as the idiom says.

I love you all, my dear family. Wish me luck, and please don’t forget to hug me if you catch me online: I probably need it (even if I won’t say so.)

OT: “Too Slutty”

by Anne Bloodrose, posted in Uncategorized

Prey to the summer’s slump, I took much glee in perverting “I’m Too Sexy” by Right Said Fred. Imagine the following lyrics to this song’s rhythm: Right Said Fred – I’m Too Sexy (2007 Mix) – YouTube

I’m too slutty for your cum
too slutty for your cum
cum’s going to leave me

I’m too slutty for my top
too slutty for my top
so slutty it hurts

and I’m too slutty for a wand
too slutty for a wand
a plug and a strap

I’m too slutty for a partner
too slutty for two partners
i’m doing a foursome

I’m a slut and you know what I mean
when I do my little grind on the hard cock
yeah on the hard cock
on the hard cock yeah
i do my little grind on the hard cock

I’m too slutty for my skirt
Too slutty for my skirt
Too slutty by far
And I’m too slutty for my bra
Too slutty for my bra
What do you think about that?

I’m a slut and you know what I mean
And I do my little grind on the hard cock
Yeah, on the hard cock
On the hard cock, yeah
I shake my little butt on the hard cock

Too slutty for my
Too slutty for my
Too slutty for my

‘Cause I’m a slut and you know what I mean
And I do my little grind on the hard cock
Yeah, on the hard cock
On the hard cock, yeah
I shake my little butt on the hard cock

I’m too slutty for my thong
Too slutty for my thong
Poor g-string
Poor g-string thong

I’m too slutty for my cum
Too slutty for my cum
cum’s going to leave me
And I’m too slutty for this song

What am I, after all?

by Anne Bloodrose, posted in D/s, Second Life, Thoughts

What am I?

That is a question I have been repeatedly asking myself ever since I started traveling the explorative universe of D/s. Yes, dear Reader, you will be taken through my journey in the lifestyle, in an attempt to illustrate from where I came from and how I have reached the conclusion that I currently embrace — one that gives me a degree of definition and resolution that I had not found before.

It started shortly after I joined Second Life, and almost by accident at that. I had been curious about BDSM because, due to personal reasons I would rather forget, my life had spun out of control. Setting aside long, boring details, suffice it to say that I was in a hole. A part of me sought D/s to regain control and clamber out of the hole I was in. That was my state of mind when I met my first Mistress. We were “vanilla” friends already through a mutual acquaintance, and the topic of BDSM in general and D/s in particular had surfaced in a few of our conversations. The question — “Would you show me?” — came naturally from me after she had talked about what it meant to serve someone. So it was that I pledged my submission to her, 15 years ago, and became her owned servant.

Mistress would never use the word “slave.” She believed being a servant was a lot more challenging than being a slave. Yes, I did sexual things for her; and yes, I was beholden to obey her, always, or be punished — but she never qualified me as her “slave.” I was, literally, her chair — or a lamp, or even a chandelier, as Mistress had a forniphilia fetish that she could freely explore in Second Life, without the space constraints that it entailed in real life. Being objectified in that manner drove into me that I belonged to her, but after the session was over, she would undo my binds, let me stretch, and hold me, whilst I processed what I had thought and felt during the scene, and shared it with her.

Occasionally I was offered to sexually serve others as a service to Mistress. I also served her in other, non-kinky ways: I listened to her, providing her with a sounding board for her ideas, feelings, and concerns, particularly about her future.

At the same time, having learned to obey and follow under my Mistress, I was starting to discover that my partner at the time was involved in the D/s lifestyle. Like me, she was a submissive, and, like me, she sought some semblance of order in her life. Curious about what it meant to be in charge of someone in a D/s context, I turned to Mistress for advice, she taught me how to take control, how to help the sub focus their needs, how to help them discover themselves through service, and, in doing so, give their lives structure and purpose, to lead them to success.

Once I got a taste of that power, I did not let go. My heart always needed to serve; but the rush, the feeling of being a demiurge like Pygmalion, moulding someone to my wishes and my will was exhilarating, and, yes, even a bit addictive. Being content with serving Mistress was no longer enough. I wanted to have others serve me.

Under Mistress’s guidance, I accepted my partner’s submission and became her Mistress. At the same time, Mistress’s health was declining and as a final act of service to her I begged for her to release me. In my mind, not being under her care would allow Mistress to focus on her health instead of me.

After that, in an effort to reconcile both my need to serve someone and my newfound wish to mould someone in my image, I started qualifying myself as a switch — someone who can take either the submissive or the dominant role in a relationship. That label, I later found out, was not wholly appropriate for me; but I am getting ahead of myself.  I did not know it at the time, but in the Second Life D/s community being a “switch” also implied a certain degree of “indecision.” Perhaps owing to my not being fully aware of my nature, I accepted the definition, but I could fully accept that I was “indecisive” or “flighty.” So it was that I decided to focus on the dominance, and for a time I set my submissive needs aside, leaving them on the back burner, so to speak.

Personal matters led me to leave Second Life; and for the better part of two years, I focussed on myself, on knowing what made me tick. Then, in 2007 I returned to Second Life. I was at a crossroads, and coming to Second Life helped me cope with the decisions, and the chaos, that that particular crossroads entailed.

Returning to Second Life meant rebuilding myself, and reform a network of people I could call my friends. Tere were also pitfalls: I involved myself in a toxic community, where I was used as a trophy. Disgusted, disappointed, hurt and stressed to the point of having had an anxiety attack, which for years I believed it had been a cardiac event, I left that community, vowing to never return.

Once out, D/s, once again, provided me with the framework I was looking for. I had not left that toxic community alone: A friend of mine, Kitten, for whom I had developed feelings, came with me. Once on our own, and away from the toxicity, Kitten and I explored the feelings that had emerged between us. I felt she was a beautiful person, who had been ill-treated by life and deserved a chance to rebuild. Remembering the power I had felt before leaving Second Life, I submitted to her that we should at least try a power exchange relationship. Kitten consented and pledged her submission to me. PS: We are still together, 12 years later, and she is my partner in Second Life.

All this, however, does not answer the question: What am I, after all? All the story does is provide some context to a journey of personal discovery that has brought me to finally identify my nature, and my role.

Thanks to Kitten’s support and love, I have gotten back in touch with what first drove me to the D/s lifestyle: the need to serve. My experiences dominating gave me a higher degree of assertiveness and independence that make me unique as a submissive. In short, through both nature and experience, my D/s place is that of an alpha submissive: One who follows, but who can be at the lead because she is capable of inspiring others to follow her, and does not blindly follow, but is capable of seeing the reasoning behind the leader’s will, and obeys it with a clear head.

Per and I, or, the end of the road

by Anne Bloodrose, posted in D/s

So, it has been a while since I have updated, and I am sorry about that. There are several novelties on the discovery front that are worthwhile bearing out.

 First, Per and I are done.

It happened over several months of me asking him to pay more attention to me, to be on more reliably. He never really tried hard to meet my request — in fact, he didn’t try at all.

I won’t go into the details that grated against what I had hoped our relationship could become. Those details do not belong to anyone who is not Per and I. Suffice it to say, I felt like I was being used when my presence was necessary but no further. 

Now I know there are some who would jump at the chance of having a dynamic like that; personally, having been in similar relationships before, not once, not twice, but three times, I am done with that kind of dynamic. My patience, and my willingness, have a limit, and I have reached it.

This latest episode has vividly shown me that that kind of attention is not what I seek for in someone who wants to be a dominant in a D/s dynamic for me.

What I want — no, not what I want, what I need, in short, is someone who can be reliable.

I need someone whom I can see regularly, at known times; I need someone who can respect me as a person and treat me in consequence, but at the same time one whose authority is above question. Someone whom I can respect, communicate with, trust, and appreciate, but also whom I feel I could obey without hesitation.

That someone, unfortunately, is not Per. For all of his qualities, we were not meant to be.

Mental Health Is Not a Mind Game

by Anne Bloodrose, posted in D/s, Family, Health, Thoughts

As you may have noticed, I have not been logging on to Second Life at all for the past week. This is because whilst I have suffered from bouts of depression in the past and have recovered from them fairly quickly, this year I struggled with it for about a week before acknowledging I needed to step away and care for my mental health. That is what I have been doing, keeping distracted, finding out what makes me smile and love and feel joy — recovering, in a word.

Mental health is often an overlooked subject in virtual life; and, in a world where mental involvement is intense and sustained, as relevant and important as physical health. My experiences these past two weeks have led me to conclude that I need help, and I encourage everybody who feels overwhelmed, sad, despaired, or like the world would be better without you in it to pause and reflect. Find it in yourselves to realise that, yes, whilst things can indeed look dark, dire, ugly, hopeless and with no solution in sight, putting oneself out of the picture permanently is not the solution. Rather, that comes by acknowledging that there is a problem; talking about it with others; realise that that particular problem can not be solved by your being permanently out of the picture and, finally, seeking the necessary help to address its causes.

Finally, consider the following: Regardless how desperate you feel, or how you perceive how others will react to your predicament, please remember that all of us are family, and, as such, we are behind you all the way, starting with Kitten and Per. They have been invaluable to me with their support and words, and I owe them a debt of gratitude for supporting me through this particularly severe bout.

Apart from Kitten and Per, there is one person whom I wish to thank particularly for their precious insight. That person is Vixen, whose experience in dealing with her own darkness were instrumental in substantially shortening the duration of this bout — and its severity.

Last but not least, I have to thank Syleen, whose care, support and concern also guided me through this dark night of the soul.

 

Updates to the path

by Anne Bloodrose, posted in D/s

Recently, I shared with you all that I had found a D for my submissive needs. Per is an excellent person, a strong Dominant, a honourable man, and like me in many ways that make him a very compelling choice for him to be that D that I have been longing for.

I may yet give in and accept that I belong as Per’s submissive; but, for now, he and I are taking a step back and staying at a vanilla level of relationship — boyfriend and girlfriend — and I feel that will be the case for a while.

Allow me to elaborate.

Per and I met a few times at places we both visit; there was some chemistry, and intimate play felt good and fulfilling; there was a pause, and when he and I reconnected, I was reticent, but I finally was willing to go ahead with something I have wanted for years now, and I said yes to his proposition. It felt good, I won’t lie. But everything felt so sudden, so rushed, so to speak, that suddenly I had serious doubts about whether or not I was taking the right choice.

I admit, I panicked.

I wanted to run away. I did run away, I told Per it wasn’t working out. Then… he did something no one had ever done before.

He fought for me.

He told me he was not going to just give up on me. He told me that he wanted to be with me, that he loved me.

Yes, the L word was uttered in that discussion.

More than the word, though, what impacted me the most was his determination to make our relationship work. That, to me, meant a lot more than any amount of empty talk I have gotten from others. Such determination, I thought, must be given a chance.

In that context, we decided that it was best for us, given that I was not feeling my submission, to keep things mostly as a vanilla relationship. We both agreed to this, and that is where we are now.

Updated Jan. 20, 2023: Per and I spent some time doing the C part of the CRT — Communication. He had already gained the R in the CRT, Respect, by standing up and fighting for his relationship to me; and his patience in letting me process everything showed a degree of confidence and assuredness that eased my fears, and I became convinced he was worthy of the T in the CRT, Trust. That is how we have established a few ground rules moving forward:

  • No-one but Per will get to see my submissive side.
  • Everybody else will see only my dominant side.
  • Per will know in clear terms when I am yielding to him.
  • I get to wear a symbol of our commitment.

It was a good negotiation, and I am happy with the results; I am, once again, in the care of Per as his Babygirl — something no one else will see.

A reflection about “too much”

by Anne Bloodrose, posted in D/s, Thoughts

Recently a friend of mine posted in her blog about when is it “too much” in a D/s relationship. I would like to leave a brief relection about that.

Too much is when the lines become blurred between what is play and what is abuse; too much is when friends and loved ones worry about one’s mental well-being. 

Too much is when one accepts being cut off from one’s support network. Too much is when one is so eager to please, to serve, that one is willing to close an eye on the red flags.

Too much is when one seeks the extremes to such an extent that one normalises one’s own thrill-seeking and seeks out those who will give that thrill, regardless of the human connection. 

I could go on with examples, but it would be too much of an exposition.

Ultimately, there is one sure-fire measure for when the extreme becomes normal.

When is it too much? It’s too much when even one starts thinking, “this is not right, this is too much.” 

When the brain starts sending those thoughts, perhaps it is the time to take a step back, pause, and process whether one comes out fulfilled at all from that thrill-seeking.

If the answer is yes, then one must take precautions and guard oneself against falling prey to those who would take advantage of one’s needful state.

If the answer is no, then perhaps it is the right time to take a step back, process, analyse, and have a frank conversation with oneself, so that a sane balance is achieved between the need for the thrill and the need for one’s safety. This is especially true online, where people can hide behind the mask of an avatar or an alternate to hide their true selves and not having to face the responsibility that implies real, meaningful possession of a submissive. It is not just about the use given to the sub; it is also about the care given to them in order to understand them better and lead them effectively and responsibly in exploring their natures.

 

 

 

Of woman and female

by Anne Bloodrose, posted in D/s, Gender, Thoughts

Last time, in announcing that I had found a D to fulfil my submissive needs, I introduced the concept of femaleness vis-à-vis womanhood. In this post, I will attempt to outline and characterise the difference that, in my mind, exists between both. Please note that these are my personal ideas and feelings about my own sexuality and identity and as such should not be taken as a base for what I feel or believe about everybody else.

In primitive human groupings, societal roles are binarily defined according to the individuals’ sex. To make a blatant example, males hunt, whilst females gather. This difference between active and passive is important — and it is pervasive throughout the natural world. In many species, sexual dimorphism — meaning, markedly different traits between male and female — is quite evident. Males have brilliant colours, long antlers, vivid feathers, large manes, long tusks — features that advertise their suitability as a mate to the female; while females are usually dull-coloured, lacking in features that make them eye-catching, and yes, even smaller in size.

Humans are different in that aspect than other mammals, in that sexual dimorphism is both evident and subtle.

The evident dimorphism is plainly noticeable. Males are taller, more muscular, and have a different body shape than females — males have a V-shaped body, whilst females have an X-shaped one; females have less muscle definition, are smaller, rounder on the hips and, uniquely, have prominent, forward-facing teats.

Subtle dimorphism is invisible, but very present as well. Among those subtle, invisible signs of dimorphism, males have a less accurate colour perception, but a greater spatial awareness than females, and the shape of the female’s hips is different than a male’s, to allow room for the gestating young. I digress, however. Suffice it to say that the crucial difference is that at the animalistic level the male is active, and the female passive, out of necessity: Only the female has the sexual organs that allow carrying and birthing a newborn. Gestating new life and feeding it for the first months of its live after birth is a significant cost for the female in physical terms, because, biologically, it is an investment in the next generation, one that needs to be protected and nourished until it can fend off for itself.

Over the many millennia of human evolution as a species, and as human societies grew more sophisticated and complex, a division started to form between sex and gender. sex — male, female — became private; whilst gender — man, woman — became more public. At first, gender roles closely aligned with sex roles — men were the active face of the human grouping, while women were its private face. At the centre, however, the role of the female as life producer and caregiver remained, essentially, unchanged. 

In modern times, with the advent of industrialisation, sex and gender have become further separated — indeed, it is very possible for a female to have an active role in contemporary society, and, vice versa, for a male to have a passive one. Furthermore, gender identities once considered deviant or abhorrent — homosexuality, bisexuality, transgender, etc. — have become increasingly accepted as valid gender identities regardless of the physical, sexual identity — so much so that it is now possible today to physically change a person’s birth sex to reflect their perceived gender. 

To make an already long argument short, in today’s society, people have two separate and equally important identities: the public one — gender — and the private one — sex. Gender is qualifiable; sex is not. Gender is mental; sex is physical. From this separation it’s possible to infer that what satisfies the social aspect of one’s identity (manhood, womanhood) may not be the same as what satisfies the physical aspect of it (maleness, femaleness). 

I apologise in advance for this ramble; I felt it necessary to put it out there, and clarify my position and meaning when I speak of womanhood and femaleness. I hope my meaning is now clear.

As always, I remain open to opinions and observations about this or anything else in this blog.