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Danovan Dean

The Birds And The Abejas (II)




For color, i’ll start here. With my memory, if I don’t remember something I just flat out don’t, It is what it is BUT when I do remember something, it’s in full detail. Like being in daycare at Robin’s Nest just having a good ass toddler ass time, we were sitting in the little blue chairs with the metal legs and I was sitting next to (name redacted for privacy), she had on purple sweatpants and a white t shirt. I specifically remember this day because she showed me her no no spot proudly, right there. Later that day she shoved a pencil in it and got sent home and this other kid named (privacy n shit) stuck his foot and his fork in the toilet for no reason at all, and before you even ask...yes he was, he was indeed.






Still there? Ok great. Looking back on it, clearly I didn’t have a chance at being a normal functioning adult in the healthy sexual relationships department. I was like 4 and had already seen enough cootie cat in my life. Not to mention the curious mind of my brother discovering my parents amateur porn (separately might I add) which definitely makes me thankful for living in the digital age because could you imagine popping in a VHS at 6 and thinking you’re going to watch “House Party” and instead you’re watching one of your parents do the things. Or going to my cousins and walking in on them being super excited to watch a full on gay male porn and really not knowing wtf was going on. Again, one of those I remember but I wasn’t really “present” situations.


I could go on about these one off experiences that really sullied my innocent childhood with filth but you can pretty much gather my sentiment towards it all here, too much entirely too soon.


What I actually wanted to shed light on is how my over-exposure to sex and the perceived lack of affection/attention/intimacy from my mom parlayed into how I navigated my interactions with women once I became of age.


Not to negate what my mom actually did do for me as a kid, she was great and she gave it what she could. I’m just in a space now where I can actually acknowledge where I lacked with what I needed and how the dots connected after that. Largely I was overlooked as a kid. Just not one that actually got paid attention to. I realize that my connection with video games was supported because it would keep me entertained and kinda ”out the way” so to speak since I couldn’t really do anything. Wanted to play rec baseball, “you’ll break your neck” was the excuse I got. Wanted to play football “I can’t find your birth certificate”. Got ready to go to college and magically my birth certificate was found, “Oh it’s at your daddy house on the bookshelf next to the old decanter“— Can’t make this up. So with me basically keeping my own company, I gravitated towards RPG (Role Playing Games) because they were expansive worlds that I could disappear into and forget about my own.


Now that you have that part of the background, let’s get into how this all correlates to me cracking buns for sport rather than as a means for consummating a relationship I actually wanted to be in. So at some point in my early years, I realized that to actually be “seen” I had to do something, which led to me being a bit of an overachiever. Always had good grades and did really well because guess what? That led to me getting attention, or being noticed. Did what I was supposed to do and then some as a kid because I was a good boy and didn’t want my mom to have to worry about me because my brother definitely took up enough space by himself in the “needing to be watched after” department, andddd still does. Fast forward to adolescence to where I actually started feeling like I had a chance with girls because guess what, I felt unseen there too...fucking nerd. I started connecting the dots that if I did something pleasurable, then I got noticed. See where this is going? Much of the experiences I created after that pretty much was me just honing in on my skills of knowing what to say, what to do, and when to execute. I’m an extremely observant and patient person, so I positioned myself correctly to take in all kinds of info on how to be effective. I knew what I was doing without knowing what I was doing if that makes sense.


With me navigating life at this capacity, it only came natural that when (1) I took my lack of attention/affection and paired it with (2) my perspective that I had to “do” or “be” something to get noticed in the newfound dynamic of interacting with girls my age that actually liked me too that it added up and got me (3) the secks. For a kid that wasn’t noticed, to now being noticed AND cracking the buns, let me tell you, that was a big switch. Ugly duckling who? Look at me, I’m the swan now. Although this was all great, it still didn’t really scratch the itch that was a supreme lack of attention/intimacy/affection that originated at home in the early years. It’s kind of like, when you REALLY want some water but you get a gatorade instead. Like yea it’s cool but you’re really not gonna be satisfied until you get that cup of water. That’s how it was for me. So from about 17 to about ehhhhhhh 34 when I got that really really really deep hug from my mom after I got out of the crazy house is how long I used sex at times to fulfill a need that really needed to be fixed by my mom. You can read back in one of the earlier blogs to see that defining moment. So almost 2 decades of cracking buns for pleasure and not really addressing the actual issue because I didn’t know what it was. Granted now, I haven’t cracked as many as my counterparts (I’m way under 100) nor have I gotten as many kills as people think I have....but I’ve had my share of good times. Not all of it was due to a lack of affection, some of it was me just being a good ol’ whore, and that’s ok to admit today. There have been times where it was fun and times where it wasn’t, times where I was hurt behind it and times where I hurt others, and at this point i’d like to apologize if that was you at some point.


I’ve come to understand a lot about myself over the recent months, uncovered years worth of damage and blunder in a matter of moments and I’ll continue to do the work in that area to better understand myself and not just for me but for those around me. One of the interesting things I did come to understand of just how treacherous it is to be “myself” is the extremely fine line of ”how I treat myself“ and how someone can perceive that as “how he treats me” - I’ll dive into that on the next episode of “The Birds and The Abuejas”, thanks for reading. 🌱

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