Sexual dissonance in bisexual monogamy

One of the points of the post Why I loathe “Everyone’s bi” was this:

Not everyone struggles with the times when their lovers — their beloved, committed, beautiful partners — don’t feel like they have the right shape/right reactions/right gender, though they feel so very right at other times.

I was surprised at the reaction it got — to me, this is one of the more obvious, fundamental and problematical parts of bisexual monogamy. Not because we can’t be monogamous, not because we cheat any more often than anyone else does (and on the flip side, not because I have been brainwashed against polyamory), but because of the very nature of sexuality, and non-monosexuality in particular. The nature of my sexuality.

Sexual dissonance

Inspired by the term gender dissonance1, the term sexual dissonance attempts to describe the experience of not-rightness that some people experience when in (or imagining) a sexual situation with someone of a nonpreferred gender. Monosexual queer people (such as gays and lesbians) might have experienced this trying to be “straight”. Straight folk might have if they tried “experimenting”2. And, though it’s not quite the same as monosexual dissonance, nonmonosexuals can too.

This is complicated — because while nonmonosexual people can experience it, not all do. Not all monosexual people have any idea what I’m talking about either. And it’s a feeling that’s so very hard to put into words:

Kissing. Touching. Loving. Wanting. Panting playful sweaty messy fun-having. But… not-right-ness. Wrong shape, wrong smell, wrong feel, wrong reactions, wrong movements, wrong… something, when everything was so right before, last week, last month, last year.

Sexuality fluctuates

Where does this come from, in those of us who are attracted to multiple or many or all genders? If we’re bisexual, surely we should be immune to sexual dissonance, right?

Sexuality fluctuates. It changes over months, over years, over days. Some — most? me, anyway — nonmonosexuals are familiar with this, with our attraction to any gender, or to variations on expressions of that gender, changing over time. More for some than for others, sometimes imperceptibly, but it does; it dances and weaves and sways, like a lover on display, back and forth like lovers joined. And for those of us in the middle, as it were, we can dance and weave right out of attraction to the gender of our current partners.

I joke (and it is a joke because sexuality doesn’t work quite like this and gender definitely isn’t a binary but in a very important way it’s also not a joke at all) that 5% of the time I wish The Man were a woman, and 5% of the time I’m really glad he’s a man, and 90% of the time I just want to get off — which makes him perfect for me 95% of the time. And really, who can ask for better than that?

Working around it

We work around that 5%, The Man and I. We can work around it, because I am nonmonosexual and his gender isn’t repulsive to me sexually, even then. We can work around it because when it comes right down to it what I want is him, the person I’ve loved for my entire adult life, even if he’s not always exactly right for me. We can work around it because he’s known about my sexuality since before I told him, since before we were together. We can work around it because he gets it, as much as any monosexual person can, and respects that he can’t ever get it more than that. We can work around it because he has no jealousies, no hang ups about gender or machismo, no feeling like he has to be everything to me all the time. We can work around it because he has a lower sex drive than I do, and he doesn’t complain when I just don’t initiate. We can work around it because my frustration during those 5% times is met with sympathy and creativity from him, not shaming or anger.

Monogamy isn’t something I feel particularly attached to, but loyalty to The Man is, and he is monogamous. Polyamory can be a workable option for some nonmonosexual people who experience flux like this and sexual dissonance from it, but it isn’t the only one.

We’re all really queer

I’ve talked to a lot of really clever nonmonosexual folk3 about this phenomenon. Some have known almost instantly what I was talking about — and some of them were relieved that it wasn’t just them, that it didn’t mean something was wrong with them that they felt this wrongness sometimes. Some have no idea what I mean, and while they don’t doubt it, they don’t get it, either, even when explained to them. I haven’t been able to discern any patterns in who experiences it and who doesn’t. Male-partnered, female-partnered, non-binary-partnered; doesn’t seem to matter. One relationship for life or serial monogamy, all one gender partners or “one of each” — those who’ve experienced it and those who haven’t seem spread across the board.

But we — all of us monogamous nonmonosexuals, whether we have experienced sexual dissonance or not — are all queer.4 We are all bisexual, or pansexual, or whatever term we prefer. We are no less queer because we have/n’t felt this even when monogamous for years, or for a lifetime.

“I don’t see gender”

Sometimes nonmonosexual people — especially those who have never experienced sexual dissonance — say something like “I don’t see gender” or “gender doesn’t matter to me”. And I get it. I’m bisexual/pansexual/multisexual. I get where that comes from, because, frankly, I do not understand how someone can simply NEVER be attracted to a given gender, can not EVER be attracted to someone because of their gender. I don’t understand monosexuality, because I’m not monosexual. (I accept it, and respect its validity — but I don’t understand it.)

But here’s the thing — gender is real. Gender does matter. Maybe you don’t discriminate against someone because of their gender, even in sexual attraction, maybe you find yourself attracted to people of all sorts of gender, maybe you really will shag anything that moves, but still? Gender matters. We all have gender, even if it isn’t a big deal to us personally, even if it isn’t binary or singular, even if it isn’t what society expects us to have based on our bodies at birth. And to say gender doesn’t matter, or that you don’t “see” gender, is dismissive, insulting, and hurtful, especially to those of us who experience dissonance from gender, in ourselves or in our partners. It’s saying you don’t see us, don’t see our pain, don’t see our triumphs, don’t see our work, don’t see our lives.

Not everyone experiences sexual (or gender) dissonance. Not everyone cares what gender their partner is, in general or ever. Not everyone gets what the big deal is. That’s ok.

But gender is still real. See it.

Why does this matter?

I don’t ever hear anyone talk about this. From some of the reactions I’ve gotten from other bisexual people in monogamous relationships, they haven’t heard anyone else say it before either. For whatever reason — fear of rejection, self-doubt, invisibility of bisexuality itself — we don’t talk about this. But it happens. For some of us, because we don’t talk about it — because we can’t talk about it because we don’t even have the language5 — it’s a really big deal. It can bring self-recriminations or break marriages.

And it shouldn’t. There’s no valid reason it should. Only kyriarchy. Only bigotry. Only ignorance. Only silence.

I was afraid of putting this post up. I was afraid of contributing to stereotypes about bisexuals, of giving fuel to the idea that we are incapable of monogamy or are more likely to be unfaithful. Because I have to say that sometimes — during that 5% especially, yes — monogamy is hard. But (for us, I speak only for us) it is worth it, in the end. Its very difficulty, coupled with honesty, with working through it and around it, strengthens our relationship. He knows exactly what I put aside for him; I know exactly what he’ll do for me.

I won’t call sexual dissonance a blessing, exactly, but neither does it have to harm a relationship.

Get honest. Then get creative.

  1. Gender dissonance: A form of cognitive dissonance experienced by trans people due to a misalignment of their subconscious and physical sexes.
  2. Though straight folk who are not Kinsey 0s might have experienced sexual situations with people of the same gender without experiencing sexual dissonance, so it’s not guaranteed.
  3. Mostly women, because, well, mostly I talk with women.
  4. Queer is an inclusive term for non-heterosexual sexualities. Saying nonmonosexuals are all queer is not to say that monosexuals are not.
  5. I spent several hours talking with many smart people on Twitter trying to name this phenomenon before we came up with sexual dissonance. The next best idea was MC Hammer Syndrome (“can’t touch this“), from the clever Emma. Among my many queer and straight and monosexual and bisexual friends, none of us knew a term for this experience. How can we talk about it if we can’t even name it?
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35 Responses to Sexual dissonance in bisexual monogamy

  1. This *is* an epic post. I’m glad you finished it before you succumbed to the temptations I rather callously sent you in the form of John Barrowman youtube videos. :)

    I find all this really, really interesting. Possibly because I’m still trying to work out my own sexuality, I guess. That Kinsey scale was interesting, too. I think I’m a 1, bordering on a 2 … maybe. I don’t know.

  2. “Monogamy isn’t something I feel particularly attached to, but loyalty to The Man is, and he is monogamous”. Ding, ding, ding! Thank you for putting words to what has been going on in my head.

    As for the rest of the post… I had not made a connection of the “not-right-ness” to DH not being a different person — I just saw that as part of a “not being in the mood”. But the more I think about it the more it starts to resonate. It does help to put a name to it so you can manipulate it, observe it, understand it.

  3. I could leave a long, rambling comment, but it would all pretty much boil down to “me too!” Also “yes!” and “thank you!”

    I will add this: My husband and I are polyamorous, and I am pansexual, and being poly doesn’t necessarily help. For the past couple of years I’ve been effectively monogamous just due to parenting and health issues, and just haven’t had the resources for an outside relationship. Even when I did have those resources, though, I wanted a girlfriend but felt icky for seeking a partner based on her gender! But yes, as you said – gender is real. Attraction to a gender is real. Obviously you want the whole person, but that doesn’t mean gender can’t be an attractive feature.

    • Heather Freeman — I was thinking — from my very limited knowledge of polyamory — that rather than making sexual dissonance not happen, poly relationships could offer a different set of potential solutions/ameliorations for it. So thank you for your perspective on how that might not necessarily help, given real life constraints.

      • Which is very much true, it can. I ran into the exact same problems you mentioned before I found my second partner, and to an extent still do.

        Hell, even if you are in a poly relationship it may not help sometimes. Sometimes you’re still just not attracted to the sexual characteristics or gender of your partner that’s currently available or wants to have sex with you. In the end, it can still be a factor. Which is highly frustrating, I’ll tell you.

        So yes – consider this a “word!”.

  4. all of this makes me want to talk, in a two-way kind of environment. unfortunately the internets are not so conducive to such things. would it be wrong for a blogless person to come to blogher just to stalk have lunch with you and any other commenters that happen to be around? i mean, theoretically speaking.

  5. Prudence_Dear

    Wow, every so often I stumble across something in my wild rambles of the cyberworld that makes me sit up and and think “How the hell did this person who I’ve never met managed to put into words something I’ve felt but never really understood?”. This post was definitely one of those times.

    The idea of not being 100% satisfied with who you’re with and yet being okay with that and remaining monogamous was like a breath of fresh air. I’ve always gotten panicky in relationships when I realize that this person is not EXACTLY the perfect person I’ve been looking for. Media and cultural pressures have made me feel like I shouldn’t feel like that or, if I do, I shouldn’t be with that person. But realistically, in my way of thinking, expecting to be 100% happy with someone all the time and to never wish for someone/something else in a relationship is pretty ridiculous. Thank you for reminding me that the 95% mark is pretty damn good and that openness and honesty can help make the other 5% manageable.

    On the issue of gender and monosexuality and nonmonosexuality, you really gave me cause to think as well.

    My sexuality is still widely unexplored. I think I’m currently about a 2 on the Kinsey scale but have never had a same-sex relationship because I grew up with an accepting and yet still pretty much binary conceptualization of sexual orientation and since I was more attracted to the opposite sex, I figured I must straight. Plus, I hate to admit it but it was just easier. Reading what you said about gender and accepting different definitions, expressions and conceptualization of it without ignoring it all together really hit home for me and my experience of attraction and sexuality.

    I’ve had serious crushes on individuals identifying as either gender but in those crushes, their gender was still present and was a part of that attraction. I’ve too have never understood people who say they have never in any way been attracted to one gender or the other (and secretly assumed they were just denying it) but your post has opened my eyes to my somewhat shamefully limited perspective. I am nonmonosexual and have been okay with that for a long time (without really having a word for it until now) but what you’ve taught me in this brief read and reflection is that despite the myriad of ways in which my perspective, beliefs, and life are open and accepting, I still carry various blinders and filters that can skew my vision of the world around me.

    Sometimes all we need is someone opening the smallest crack in our thoughts and suddenly we find ourselves thinking and seeing things in a whole new light. This post was one of those cracks for me and I want to thank you for opening my mind to new and different possibilities, I can’t wait to see where my own personal reflections take me!

    • Prudence_Dear — You are so very welcome.

      I’ve always gotten panicky in relationships when I realize that this person is not EXACTLY the perfect person I’ve been looking for. Media and cultural pressures have made me feel like I shouldn’t feel like that or, if I do, I shouldn’t be with that person. But realistically, in my way of thinking, expecting to be 100% happy with someone all the time and to never wish for someone/something else in a relationship is pretty ridiculous.

      Yes. And, unsurprisingly, I blame the kyriarchy. This shows up in all shorts of relationships, noticeably heterosexual ones (think of every Prince Charming/True Love romantic comedy ever made), but I do think the trope acts in interesting ways for nonmonosexual people: not only are we supposed to find True Love, but we’re supposed to be Ultimately Fulfilled in ALL (“all”) aspects of our sexuality; and if we’re bisexual, why then, we couldn’t possibly be Truly Happy with only one person.

      And I think (and I’m aware of the risk of philosophizing about a group to which I do not belong, and I apologize and beg forgiveness if I misstep) both monogamous nonmonosexuals and polyamorous (of any sexuality) folk help to disprove that myth, by saying, respectively, “we don’t need to have every aspect fulfilled at every moment to be happy” and “we don’t have to be completely fulfilled only by One True Love”.

    • “Sometimes all we need is someone opening the smallest crack in our thoughts and suddenly we find ourselves thinking and seeing things in a whole new light. This post was one of those cracks for me and I want to thank you for opening my mind to new and different possibilities, I can’t wait to see where my own personal reflections take me!”

      I’m stealing this because it is 1am and I can’t think of anything to say other than, “yes, this!”
      So thank you, Arwyn. This definitely gives me something to think about!

  6. word. when i’ve tried to discuss this issue, this dissonant feeling, with other well-meaning queer folks, their responses have been either “why don’t you just have an open marriage?” or “sounds like you’re really a lesbian.”

    you rock for bringing this up. it really is a cyclical feeling, and it’s one that can be dealt with and worked on — but it needs voice and name and respect from our greater culture before that can really happen.

    • Jenn — I’m definitely not a lesbian, and — I often joke “alas” — not about to have an open relationship. The dissonance, for me, isn’t something that happens much of the time (that 5% number isn’t far off), but enough that I think it would be a problem if I couldn’t talk about it with my partner.

      I’m still not sure “sexual dissonance” is the best term (the jargon-loving academic pedant in me loves “partner/preference incongruity” — though perhaps what we’re talking about is a form of sexual dissonance that arises from that incongruity), but really, ANY term seems better than the giant blank nothingness that currently fills the space where our conversation and stories should be.

  7. Thankyou for putting into words something that I have trouble describing to myself. It’s helped.

  8. once again you have put my feelings and thoughts into words. how DO you do that?!
    well written. i must share this

  9. So, thinking about what you said, and realised, I do have that experience, but in a slightly different way. I mentioned it in a blog post actually. Remember where I was saying it was like someone had “turned the bloke volume down”? Well, I was thinking, and it as if (correct me if I’m wrong) that I too have MC Hammer Syndrome but on a much longer term basis. As in, don’t get me wrong, there are still blokes I think are pretty/attractive/wev but the thought of sleeping with them, just seems…. wrong/weird somehow. Not even “wrong” just more like, “why *would* I?” Like, even if I were in a poly relationship, and David Tennant said, “tell you what, Mossy, how about it?” I’d be a lot less “OMGYESNOW!” about it.

    (I still would, I mean, hey! David Tennant! But…)

    To misquote from Red Dwarf: “I would go with Tennant. But I’d be thinking of Kingston.”

    And yet, it’s not like I’ve “become a lesbian” (despite the fact all my colleagues seem to think that) because it’s not disappeared completely, like, it’s just that my sex drive on that “side” as it were has diminished a lot, since being with a woman.

    Very occasionally though I do think, oh, I could just go for a bloke right now (as it were!) but it’s like being veggie and occasionally fancying a bacon butty, or being an ex smoker and occasionally catching a whiff of a fag and thinking, ahhhh I remember that, I miss it: it passes just as quickly as those two feelings, unless (as with the bacon butty and the fag) I decide to wallow (if that’s the right word?) in those feelings.

    Not like I could *force* myself to fancy anyone, but I also know if I do think/fantasise about being with a bloke for any length of time, it does come back, although it goes again fairly quickly.

    But I very strongly suspect that if I were to get together with a bloke, that the opposite would happen; I’d “notice” other men more, and women would be something that I occasionally considered and missed but didn’t really figure so highly on my radar any more.

    It’s like, I too have that “cycle” thing, but on a much longer term basis than you have.

    • Ruth — This comment has me musing and reflecting a lot on the nature of my sexuality and what influences it and how it cycles. And I’ve tried to respond a couple of times now, but I’m not clear enough on what it IS like for me that I feel I can, properly.

      There are a lot of factors: like you, I think there’s something to being “tuned” to the (male) gender of my current partner; there’s being exposed (such as at a concert) to queer women; there’s, on the other side, the longing and discord that builds up with a lack of such exposure; and there’s the underlying/ineffable/innate cycles of my “natural” sexuality.

      But other than some parts being obvious (such as the effect of the concert scene), I find it impossible to tease out all these factors, not least because for my entire adult life I’ve been with one person, a man. I do not know, and frankly hope to never find out, what my sexuality would do if I weren’t partnered, or were dating, or were with a woman.

      And on a lighter note, I fucking love that misquote, both for itself and for what it references. It’s a double heaping helping of Anglo-geekism, and I hearts it.

  10. In fact, it’s funny because I remember before I came out as bi (even to myself) I used to snog girls and was continuously surprised that it wasn’t just a mechanical “well, just imagine I’m snogging a clean-shaven bloke…” it was something more, it was something I tried to push down (and managed, quite successfully).

    If I’d been a bit more switched on, and a bit more willing to admit things to myself, precisely the fact I didn’t get MC Hammer syndrome or even anything close, should have been a clue that I wasn’t nearly as straight as I thought I was.

  11. Ruth, I am totally with you on this. I have huge girl crushes on the most random of blokes, Kian from Westlife, John Barrowman, this bloke who sometimes comes into work. Only I wouldn’t ‘do’ anything about it. Certainly not right now, I’m in a loving, lesbian, monogamous relationship. And this is where I come unstuck. The lady and I have discussions about ‘what would I do if she wasn’t here?’ And the honest answer I give her every time is, that I don’t know. Right now I am a lesbian, with a little bit of a taste for certain male specimens. Without her in my life, would I still be a lesbian, again I can’t answer that since it’s not happening. I simply do not know. And this frustrates her, hell of a lot more than it does me. I don’t care about some far of distant what if, but she’s hung up on it, and my refusal to fully comply with her ideas of what my sexuality should be. Women! I don’t get why she so much gives a damn (I should probably try not to drool over JB while she’s in the room). I never acknowledge in front of her how attractive I find someone in the way that people play the ‘would you…’ game. I find it boring, since I would probably say yes to most people.

  12. Maybe this has been discussed before and I missed it, but:
    Your partner being monogamous doesn’t necessarily have to mean you are as well. ‘I don’t want to see other people’ and ‘I don’t want you to see other people’ don’t always have to go hand in hand. I know several people in mono-poly relationships, where one partner is monogamous (doesn’t see anyone other than their partner) but has no problems with their partner seeing other people (being poly). Perhaps you’re already aware of this possibility and have evaluated that it won’t work for your relationship, in which case sorry to have mentioned it. But, on that off chance you don’t already know that this is something some people do, I felt it worth the couple minutes to comment. :)

    • Hel — Aware of it and evaluated it and decided it’s not for us, but thank you. And don’t be sorry at all; it’s an important point to make, though one I felt was a bit too complicated for this (already quite long) post.

  13. I had forgotten Ruth’s “turned the bloke volume down” analogy but now she’s mentioned it again I remember how completely like my own feelings I found that when I read it the first time. I think that’s why when we spoke about this before I was a bit, huh? While I’ve been with Smoo, and in fact probably for most of my life, the woman volume has been on low. It’s always been there and over the years I’ve been surprised to learn in conversations with my friends that not everyone has that station half tuned in in their head. But it’s been only half tuned in until recently. Recently a whole bunch of things have coincided (not least of which the company I keep online, tut tut) to turn that volume up or to tune it in loud and clear. But I feel reluctant to describe it as a feeling of “not right” with Smoo. Maybe it feels unkind to him. Smoo and I aren’t in the place you are with The Man. He’s not comfortable talking about it, I don’t want to raise it and make him uncomfortable. There’s a whole bunch of other unhappy stuff going on between us. It’s complicated.

    I will add that I feel it very much depends on the company I keep. It’s not not seeing gender or some such, it just depends on the people I’m around. Gender is part of who a person is and although I’m attracted to men & women, I’m only attracted to some of the above. Some of the people I know or have known IRL have tuned the frequency in and some (many) just don’t.

    This on the other hand” “Monogamy isn’t something I feel particularly attached to, but loyalty to The Man is, and he is monogamous”. Yep.

    • I think bloke/bird volume (as Ruth would say) being tuned up/tuned in isn’t quite the same as the other being turned DOWN, which is what leads to the dissonant feelings (for me). I can have a high volume for women at any given point, and not necessarily thus experience dissonance with The Man. But sometimes, yes. And I can’t explain when or why or how it all works — it’s sexuality, so it’s not exactly simplistic.

      And you definitely need to start keeping better company online. Flirts and freaks, the lot of them. Ahem.

  14. Having said all that, I could just be bullshitting myself. Perhaps the latent unhappiness is a “not quite right” feeling. I know if Smoo & I were to split I’d be looking for a girlfriend.

  15. Thank you SO MUCH for this piece. I had a major freak-out in my otherwise happily monogamously partnered five year relationship, and it was centered around this issue. Now I have something productive to think about and discuss with him.

  16. Thank you so much for this post! I could not have come at a more perfect time!

    I am currently in one of my “swings” of really wanting a woman over a man. This is definitely complicated by the fact that I am married to a wonderful man and I have no interest in being with anyone else. The problem is that my husband won’t really acknowledge my bi-sexuality (I think out of ego because he is very pro-gay rights) so he doesn’t understand what’s wrong with me and why I keep turning him down. I feel like trying to “prove” to him that I’m bi-sexual would just hurt the situation, but I don’t know what to do. :-/

  17. I am a genderqueer person. In addition to the fluctuating dissonance you describe feeling toward a partner, I have the added dimension of feeling that toward myself. It was rather disorienting the first time I felt the desire to have gay sex with my then husband, and it is only several years later that I am now able to talk about it with others.

    Sometimes my partner is the wrong gender for me. Sometimes I’m the wrong gender for my partner. And yet I am a whole person with valid desires, and I am glad to say that my partner accepts me for me.

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  20. I guess I’m late to seeing this, but THANK YOU for giving me words to express how I feel. I’m in a wonderful long term realtionship with a man I love and after accepting and admitting I am bi while in this relationship, I’ve really had no one to talk to about what it’s like to be bi and monogamous. It’s frustrating sometimes, and when I’m noticing women more (volume turned up, great phrase!) I’ve been having identity freakouts and wondering how the hell you make a relationship work when you are nonmonosexual. Knowing I’m not alone in these cyclical feelings paired with a desire to stay loyal has truly taken a weight off my shoulders. I am trying to think of the best way to explain this to my bloke.

  21. Thank you for giving me words for things I knew but couldn’t communicate.

  22. I know this post is really old, but I wanted to say thank you.

    I read this (and most of your other posts about bisexuality/nonmonosexuality) almost a year ago when I was starting to come out about being bi. At the time I wasn’t aware of having experienced what you describe here, but the post stuck in my mind some how.

    Last night after watch a romance movie about two girls, I had the most awful and awkward feeling experience of being horny and wanting to make love with my boyfriend and wanting to want him, but it just feeling wrong. I didn’t want anybody else, but no mater how much I wanted to get off with him I couldn’t convince myself that cock was what I wanted at that moment. I felt like a horrible person for not wanting his body when I love him and he wanted to make love with me, but remembering this post I at least knew I wasn’t alone.

    I couldn’t stop crying about how I felt and it was beyond hard to try to explain, but I fortunately have a very loving and understanding boyfriend who held me and apologized for not being able to be what I wanted then, and who made me feel so loved despite what I was struggling with. I’m not sure if I could have even tried to explain if I didn’t already *know* I’m not the only person who has experienced this, so thank you for making it just a tiny bit easier for me to talk about this very difficult experience with the person I need to.

  23. I recently came out as bisexual, in fact I just had the talk with my parents this very evening. It went well and they accepted it. The point of my post is to say, thank you. I completely identify with this post. And it’s frustrating to have to “prove” myself. So often others want to put you in this tiny little box, categorize you. Life isn’t that simple and I’m not that simple. Thank you.

  24. A brilliant post. When I read that line on Why I loathe “Everyone’s bi” I had to re-read it a few times to check that is what you were saying. I have felt dissonance but never articulated it before, even to myself. I had even discussed possible ways to get round that unidentified feeling with a friend of mine, and she rightly accused me of self-sabotage. My relationship would never stand non-monogamy, and I thought this feeling would one day push me to it. Knowing the name of the thing gives some power over it.

  25. Amazing post! This is literally the exact same situation I find myself in. I cannot begin to tell you how great it feels to read that other people experience this too! Keep up the great work!

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