Dick on the Shelf

Dreams of Thursday Night, 6.22.17.

This dream was initially disturbing in that when I first woke up, I couldn’t exactly rationalize the source or a reason why my subconscious would even GO THERE. I recall seeing Dr. Robinson (a veterinarian at my part-time job during undergrad) or someone who vaguely resembled him, engaged in some sensual[?] activity. To my left, hanging on the wall, was a penis. It was mostly erect, definitely circumcised, and all-around familiar.

I took it down and began mindlessly stroking it, and immediately something in Dr. Robinson’s behavior prompted me to return the odd artifact to its original place on the wall. I vaguely remember descending some stairs and seeing a few people, but I don’t entirely recall what it was they were doing. The overall sentiment I experienced during the dream was a sort of Alice-in-Wonderment.

Seriously. . . who the fuck has dreams about detached penises???!!!!

My initial musings were that maybe I really enjoy men sexually, but they annoy the shit out of me in almost every other aspect of their being? Because that’s just been my experience thus far. However, how do we explain Dr. Robinson’s presence??

My thoughts, having sorted through all all of this after letting the dream sink in for awhile are thus:

The dick symbolizes the involvement of men in my life. And how I just had to take it down and start stroking it, without any thoughts to why I was doing it, or whether I was getting any pleasure out of the experience. The penis being familiar likely is a reference to the fact that I keep attracting the same sort of proverbial “dick” — that is to say, I keep attracting the same sort of wounded, insecure, egotist men. Dr. Robinson once called me lovely in front of the other girls at work. . . I could feel their eyes cutting into me like daggers. But it was the first time I had ever received a compliment from an adult male that I sort of admired (and secretly had a crush on) and actually felt appreciated, seen. It was probably the first time I actually said “thank you” in response to a compliment without questioning it. Calling someone “lovely” is a nod to not just their outer appearance, but something you can see within them that is worth your adoration, respect, and admiration. Word choice matter to me, so I really took it to heart. The moment really stuck with me. Dr. Robinson also knew and understood my “daddy issues” as we had discussed this topic as a group before.

I say all of that to establish the significance of Dr. Robinson’s disapproval of my holding of the dick. It was as if he was telling me that I was worthy of more than a detachable penis or a “dickly” personality. I now understand it to mean that maybe it’s time to put the dick on the shelf.

Since my undergrad days, which is when I first started dating, I can’t for the life of me recall a period of significant length in which I purposely abstained from dating. If I wasn’t dating someone, I was looking for someone. It was that way until I met my ex, whom I was with for 3.5 years. And then after him, there was a brief romance with a guy I met in grad school. And after that was nipped in the bud and he moved to California, I was still looking around. I reached out to my ex and we reconnected, with a slow burn sizzling out to dusty embers around the holidays of this past year. There I was, single and sad in Austin on New Year’s, at midnight, kissing some tall skinny dude from Stanford that couldn’t dance, even though I didn’t want to.

After a brief tryst with a liberal cowboy vegetarian with hair and an accent like Matthew McConoughey’s who sings old cowhand songs, I felt so numb.

And after a string of terrible or lackluster dates this past spring and summer, I met someone whose familiarity struck me. . . he was completely unlike my ex in looks and mannerisms but what I was picking up on was the same insecurity.

Long story short, I ended up ceasing all communication with this last guy, and now I’m ready to give dating an actual break. I’m thinking at least for the rest of this calendar year. I can reassess after New Year’s Day. For now, though, the dick is going right back up on the wall.