I have been conditioned to love breasts and I am fine with that.

My woman walked by me. I reached out for an embrace, a hug. We held for a moment. She was going off to work (we work at home) and I wanted a little attention before she went and gave all her attention to herself. During the embrace I made a move, a slow, sly one for a breast. She felt it coming and laughed and cut me off. Fine. The move was colored with the ease of innocence and whimsy so no big deal for either of us.

But I did have the compulsion to feel her breast in my hand. I love her breasts and feeling them gives me pleasure and a certain calmness. So without releasing from the embrace I made like a child and let my pretenses fall and asked to please be given access to a hand full of breast. Just for a moment. She obliged and I loved it.

Upon separation she wanted to know what the big deal is to men about breasts. I had no response to that. I pointed out that if men had their penises on their chests and could walk around showing them off because they know that women liked them women would want to look at them and touch them too. I had no idea if this made any sense but it seemed like a logical argument. She doubted that and said she doesn’t show them off they are just there. I suppose I could have alluded to the fact that breasts are an erogenous zone and that sets them apart from, say, elbows but I did not. What I did say was,

“I have been conditioned to love breasts and I am fine with that.”

And I am. I am because I am owning it. Making it mine and not blindly being guided by the guy conditioning. It is freeing owning my desires, original or conditioned. And not because I am giving myself license to walk around ogling at women’s breasts. But because I can do two things. I can respect a woman’s right to not be ogled and I can love breasts, especially my woman’s breasts.

So I say it again,

I have been conditioned to love breasts and I am fine with that.

Ok, three times is enough. Time to move on.

sexy recognition

Today my girlfriend, partner, mate told me I was sexy. She looked down my shirt at my chest and since the shirt was open a few buttons because of the summery day she got a good look at me and made ooohs and aaaahs and general sexy recognition noises. A part of me was emboldened, a part was embarrased, a part was glad to be sexy. Nonetheless I played it coy and calm. She responded to that by saying that if she was a 20 year old who was giving me attention I would be feeling all mighty and giggly and flirty and cool. I was shocked at that admonishment. No way. She was implying that since she is older than me and since we have been together for a long while now that my loins and ego do not respond to her like they would to a single 20 year old girl. I thought for a sec and said maybe but I still love you best and hugged her as if I needed to try and get away with something.

Later as I was walking downtown I thought about this. I stopped and tried to feel it out and yea, I could feel how it would feel if a 20 year old girl had made those overtures towards me. My ego could feel the stroke, my body got all bubbly just thinking about a lovely, young female giving me sexy attention. Now I think so what, what’s wrong with that. Well, nothing.

What is interesting is why when my mate of choice does it I close up and curl in and get all embarrassed and coy. I am all open and ready to do my peacock showing his plumes walk if a young girl is giving me the sexy recognition but but when my woman….what happens?

I have a feeling it has to do with not being of my own mind. I think I was firmly resting in a mind that was taught sexy recognition from 20 year old girls is the best kind of recognition. The question is whether or not that mind that learned that is of my own mind or of some form of male mind I slipped into. Oh…oh, wait a moment of clarity….the sexy recognition from the young 20 year old made me, makes me feel…feel something validating…I must have developed some sort of addiction to 20 year old girl sexy recognition for personal validation and feeling like I was wanted and liked and worthy. Like an addiction to coffee as the thing that makes you feel good in the morning. Is it just chemical or is it thoughts, or both? This much is true. I think this is not of my own mind. I think it is of a guy mind which I do have, but not of my own mind because my mind is bigger than that.

Now what? I think be mindful of it. Because I would like to have that bubbly, ego reaction when my woman says stuff like that. Because I am not 20 nor am I going to be any time soon and I am not going to start hanging with 20 year old girls and being all pathetic. I love my woman and I would rather have my experience be around her (fun and lively) and not some guy mind addiction to girls who live in my imagination (boring and sad).

the first post

What is the deconditioning of the male mind? In the context of this blog it is my reflections, ruminations, observations and experience as a man who is trying to create a definition of himself and an existence in this life that can honestly be known as original, not conditioned; loving, not fearful; and free….a man of his own mind and not the mind of what he has been taught a man is.

For a long time I have felt like part of me, a deep part of me, has struggled with being what feels true and being what I was taught to be. I know others might feel the same but I am not talking about the gay experience or the transexual experience or any other kind of experience except the male experience. You probably think it is my male experience and not yours. Well I got news for you. We all have the same experience. We may have varying degrees of awareness of our collective experience but its all the same…for all of us.

What’s up with us males anyway? Why is it that so much pain comes from us, the world over for all time….I wonder this for I do not like pain for myself or for others, it hurts too much. Yet I look around at my family and friends and other families and other friends and strangers and with a few exceptions most of the males I see got pain written fat on their forehead. And then those around them get it too. I got vivid memories of pain, all over the f-ing place in my head of being scared and hurting, not from my mom or sisters or female friends but from my own kind, that group I would be remiss to expect any thing more from….my homies…….guys, boys, men, males. Me.

This blog will be an exploration of Me…..Us.