I came to a realization over this past weekend, in fact I came to many realizations, but this is the one I’m going to share with you today. I don’t usually talk about personal things that don’t relate directly to some aspect of my identity. Although this does relate to my fat identity, but in a different way than I would normally post about it (not sure if that makes sense). Basically, this is the kind of post I would usually reserve for LiveJournal and not for this blog, but it is something that I need to talk about, and something that I feel I should share on here.

I haven’t been taking care of my body well enough. I’m so focused on sex and sexuality but I have been ignoring the physical, which seems contradictory but somehow it still happened. I have been trying to live as a disembodied mind, seperate from my body while at the same time sexual and loving it… it hasn’t been working so well.

I’ve been signed up with a personal trainer since January and I’ve been going (though not going to the gym as often as I feel I should) but I haven’t lost that much weight or changed my body that much. I have been eating better (though not all that much better) and I haven’t been losing weight, and it’s time for me to change that. I have known this for a while, but there’s a difference between knowing something and realizing something.

This brings me to an interesting struggle. I love being fat, I love being a bbw, but I am currently unhealthy and that is a problem. There is a difference between being fat and being healthy, and I’m way past healthy. Four years ago I went from a size 24 to a size 14. I doubt I will ever be smaller than a size 14, and I’m more than okay with that. My body type doesn’t lend itself to being smaller, and a 14/16 is (I think) the most attractive and ideal body image for me. Currently I am back up to a size 26.

I am heavier than I have ever been in my life before this, I am uncomfortable and I teeter between being unhappy with my weight and being depressed. The strange thing is that while I can get depressed with being unhealthy I still love myself and my body, just not where it is right now. It seems like a paradox, and it kind of is, but it somehow works.

The main reason I am talking about this is because my health is something I’m dedicated to change, but I’m also talking about this because there is this crazy paradox within society. The emphasis should be on health rather than size, but it’s hard to seperate one from the other. Most people equate them when, in reality, they can be worlds apart. Skinny people can have just as many or more health issues than large people, but we don’t always think of that. However, in my current state I am unhealthy, and I realize this.

Dominus and I have talked about both of our health issues. Basically he is in the same situation as I am. If we could be disembodied consciousness’ (which could still have sex) we would, but then we’d also miss out on all the fun things that bodies can do. We have decided to start a new routine which includes not only bodily health but also spiritual health, something we have been putting off since we lost our temple. We are going to create a new temple for us to work within as well as incorporate yoga (vinyasa, pranayama, and kundalini), the five Tibetan rites, and Tai Chi into our normal routines. I am also thinking of taking up bellydancing again.

This will also change our sleeping and eating patterns (for the better, I’m hoping) and switch our usual meal-a-day together from dinner to breakfast, which I’m a big fan of. It is rather ambitious, but it’s necessary. I’ll sneak little updates into my posts.

I’ve been thinking a lot about femme cock lately, ever since I posted on the subject. I haven’t only been thinking about the acquisition of one, however, but also what it means to have a femme cock, and what it means that my cock is femme. On one hand, it’s a very minuscule difference. I mean, what does it matter if my cock is femme, butch, genderqueer, a dildo, or any other label that I put on it? It’s still a cock, right? It’s still a piece of silicone. On the other hand, cocks are not thought of as femme or feminine. Cocks are, as we generally associate them with males, usually considered a masculine item.

So, what does it really mean to have a femme cock? What’s the big deal? For one thing, when a cock is strapped on it is pretty much assumed that the strapper is masculine in some way. While there are many people who do not make this assumption I would say that the overwhelming majority do. Though it does seem like pegging (female penetrating a male with a strap on) has been getting more popular lately with videos like Bend Over Boyfriend and lots of beginner strap-on kits popping up all over the place. Even then, however, the penetrator is still thought of as taking on the masculine role even if the penetrator isn’t thought of as masculine.

Penetration is nearly always considered a masculine act, even if done by a feminine body. Rarely do you see a dildo called Felicity or Sophia, instead we see Leo, General, Magnum, and Throb. That’s not to say that there aren’t female-named dildos like Goddess, Mistress, Wanda, and the ever delightful Vicky Venus, but they are nowhere near as common as the others. There have always been vibrators with feminine names, because they are trying to appeal to their target audience, but if you delve into the realm of “realistic” dildos… well, I’ll just say I have yet to see a dildo marketed as realistic named anything feminine (though there could be one or two, I can’t claim to have seen all the dildos in the world). I’m not saying that they should be more common, I wouldn’t make that call, but I am saying that thinking of a dildo as feminine or thinking of penetration as a feminine act is not common.

But what does it really mean for a femme to have a cock, or for a femme to pack? There are infinite ways in which a femme can pack, and an infinite number of reasons and desires which can come out of packing/having a cock. I can’t help but think of an excerpt from The Leather Daddy and the Femme when thinking about femme cock, and the infinite possibilities:

It was lavender silicone and not shaped like a cock at all. It wasn’t even meant to be a cock, on her. She never got especially turned on to cocks–but strapping on something to fuck with, something that let her pin me to a bed or a wall and let her cunt-energy come exploding out of her and into my cunt or asshole, she liked that just fine. [...] She didn’t think of it as a cock so I didn’t either, but I sure did take it seriously.

This is part of the way I think of my cock, I declare it as a cock but I don’t think of it as a cock but as an extension of my cunt, which is also why I’m not very attracted to realistic-looking cocks for my own personal cock. I wouldn’t be against a realistic-looking (and feeling) cock in my collection, but that wouldn’t be my main cock.

The more I read in The Leather Daddy and the Femme the more I work with and figure out my own gender queerness. My sexuality is so tied in with my gender, and it’s interesting to have this lovely femme woman as well as a butch boi within me, both aching to get out and both who desire to wear a cock.

This brings me back to the question: what does it mean? Obviously, it can mean a lot of different things depending on who is wearing the cock and who is viewing/feeling the cock. Is there a big difference between someone who embraces femme packing or strapping on than someone who embraces butch? I think there is. That’s not to say that the same meaning couldn’t be applied to the cock or the wearing of the cock in both cases, because it could be, but there would still be a difference. What would that difference be, I’m not entirely sure. Something I’ll have to think on more and get back to you.