Vulnerable about vulnerability

This last week was a bit crazy.  So much of A’s stress has resolved, he’s back to the basal level of stress he has as his “normal”, which is still a lot for most, but he’s an expert in dealing with things in the most amazing way. O and I had a rather challenging discussion last week after he reacted strongly to a spontaneous night A and I had and some of the dom/sub dynamics we enjoy and I then was way too hard on him.  What came from it was the most functional, understanding, and loving conflict resolution-type conversation I have ever had with a partner.  He was so….perfect.  About everything.  I was really hard on him.  I over-reacted.  I took our conversation of the previous day, where he warned me to be careful with A, and turned my feelings about that into an excuse to react badly about his feelings about A coming over spontaneously the previous night.  I was blunt and direct and not at all empathetic.  I wasn’t recognizing my triggers and I wasn’t recognizing his. I was not a good girlfriend.  He continued loving me anyway and we had a great talk about the whole thing that evening.  The conflict part of the conversation happened during the day, via text.  Text is, of course, the best way to fuck up your meaning, and this was truly the case. I felt he had questioned my judgement, he felt I had lied to him.  It was a storm of miscommunication and was completely avoidable.  When I sat on his couch with a glass of wine to talk it out, I knew, immediately, that it was going to be fine.  When we are together, we have a very hard time not touching each other.  So, legs wrapped together, holding hands, we broke down and broke through every detail that needed to be discussed.  It ended in us giving each other context, clarifying a few “guidelines” (I can’t think of a better term, but it’s just overarching themes of our relationship that we agree on), and most importantly, opening up the understanding of how our own personal baggage has influenced how we respond to each other, and how we recognize that what we have in each other is as amazing and as statistically improbably as winning the lottery, and how we both want to work to maintain what we have.  I left that conversation, completely emotionally exhausted, but completely reassured that I love him, he is as perfect for me as I thought, and that we are so incredibly good together, it’s amazing.

Part of what I told him was the full story of F and I and our journey in polyamory.  As I was explaining the critical occurrences, the things I did wrong, the things F did wrong, and everything in between, I had this crazy epiphany that I tied into my realization that I’m absolutely shit at asking for what I need. I’m really bad at being vulnerable.  Absolutely horrible, in fact.  Several of my partners have commented on how they don’t know I’m processing something I’m emotional working through until I all of a sudden come to them with a conclusion.  Then they have to catch up with the fact that I have been struggling with something and they had no idea.  I then have to describe the process I went through, the feelings I had, the hurt I experienced.  More than once I’ve heard: “But why didn’t you tell me you were having a hard time?”  Truthfully, I thought it was just how I am.  That I’m an internal processor and that I wasn’t hurting anyone.   I was proud of the exclamations from partners about how strong I am.  Truthfully, I was hurting myself first, and partners and those who love me second.  I was taking on loads that should be shared by the people who love me.  This is the case with O the other day, when I was upset with him about warning me about A, but didn’t communicate it with him.  This is the “event” that made me realize that I have some broken parts that need repairs.  

A few weeks ago, I asked A for some cuddles when I was going through a particularly difficult time. It was slightly easier for me to ask then, because I didn’t know what was wrong.  I just needed closeness and cuddles and to be held, and he obliged. He’s actually really good at just being what I need in the moment without making me explain.  I think he knows that I’ll eventually get to the explanation without being pushed.  I also think it’s just his way and the dynamic we set up this last year as I asked for diversions and distractions from him physically as I went through the emotional pain I wasn’t communicating.  The fact is, asking for cuddles was the first time in several years that I’ve asked someone to do something emotionally supportive for me, because I need it.  When I was talking to O about my story last week, I realized that there was a time when I was better at asking for what I need.  When I was OK with being vulnerable and didn’t feel like I needed to be strong and hide my pain from others.  I realized that that time was long in the past, before F and I were married and our dynamic changed from one of some sort of mutual support (I’m not sure it was ever completely healthy, but certainly healthier than where it ended up), to one where I supported him, and if I needed support, he had free license to turn it into something he needed support for.

Before I go on, I need to also address the fact that I remembered last weekend that F has PTSD.  He is in emergency services and has been for nearly 20 years.  I was talking with a friend and coworker at my second job who has been a huge mental health advocate for emergency services personnel in the last years.  As I chatted with her about her journey, my experiences being married to F came out.  I remembered the hurtful awful things he did.  The pain he felt. The fact that he was able to pretend he wasn’t chronically affected by his career choice when we went to Sweden and the stressors were removed, but that when we returned to Canada, the stressors reappeared and he spiralled into the oblivion that is PTSD.  She understood the trend for long-term emergency services workers to take their worst experiences out on their spouses. It reminded me that early in our relationship, and even as it progressed for the next 14 years, F frequently talked of divorce, alcoholism, or suicide as a given.  He seemed to think that losing his mental health was a predetermined certainty and that it would cost him everything that meant something to him.  As I told my story, she sympathized with me AND with F, and just shook her head and even cried at the fact that our story isn’t unusual.  This whole conversation reminded me that while the way that F treated me was unacceptable, it isn’t entirely him, so much as his mental illness, that is driving his behaviour.  That I, too, am a victim of the stress that is the career he chose.  It also made me ridiculously angry at the fact that he didn’t move into positions that would offer less stress (and more money) or access the amazing supports available to him when he had opportunities for the protection of our marriage and, even more, our children and families.  There were many of these opportunities, yet he focused on blame and the fact that I chose to work in a job I love in my chosen career rather than stay home with my children.  So, take any story of his inability to be a decent husband, and sometimes, a decent person, with a grain of salt. The man clearly has mental illness, and I don’t want to diminish from the fact that he actually has redeemable qualities that made him, at one point, long ago, an acceptable choice as a partner.

As I told O my story, I realized the gravity of the things I went through in the last year.  How any support from F came with a price.  How I needed, badly, someone who had my back in all of the horrible situations I found myself in.  I thought about how I asked F for support as I was encountering feelings with his relationship with W.  How I asked for time, connection, love, touch, and even a smile.  How I frequently asked for simple touches, like a hug or a kiss, and was denied.  How he frequently refused to sleep with me because I snore, wouldn’t touch me when I was struggling emotionally, demeaned me as useless when I wasn’t supporting him exactly how he wanted, though he didn’t communicate his needs, and how even when he was intimate with me, the whole episode was about his pleasure, his climax, and had so little to do with mine.  As I thought it through, as I recognized the damaged goods that I am, I could see how somewhere in the years that we had been together, F had become the person who I supported.  I became his strength and his support, but he wasn’t that for me.  (There’s a lot of irony here, because he had a hard time with the fact that I “didn’t need him anymore”, when we embraced polyamory.)  

Nothing is a more clear an example of his manipulation as when I was diagnosed with post-partum depression in 2015.  At that time, #4 was 3 months old. He had a few health scares early on.  When they were resolved, and I didn’t get better, I realized that I needed help that wasn’t going to come in the form of “giving it time” or “accepting my situation”.  So I made an appointment with my family physician and got a prescription for antidepressants.  Thirteen days later, I woke up, myself, for the first time in six years, realizing that this acute depression had been preceded by six years of a low level chronic depression.  The intervening thirteen days where I adjusted to my meds were some of the most difficult of my life. I was unable to get out of bed in the morning.  The antidepressant I’m on is a sedative and it takes some time to adjust.  I had a three month old baby, who, thankfully, was the best sleeper, and would wake a 8:30 a.m.  I would nurse him and hand him off to F.  F would get up with the children, feed and care for them, and put #4 down for a nap, who would wake up at around noon.  I would get up, feed him, and we would get going and spend the afternoon together. I was groggy and stressed and still very much depressed.  Just going through the motions of daily life was an enormous challenge.  During this whole time, I heard no end of complaints about how hard it was on F.  How he wasn’t getting a vacation, how I was “lazing” away the days while he worked so hard.  How he was suffering, and I wasn’t helping.  It went on and on. It was one long complaint.  After two weeks, I came out of my depression with a new lease on life. I realized how difficult our relationship had been for years and started tackling some of the issues that needed to be fixed.  I took control again.  

The reality of this is that every time I had an issue, every time I was vulnerable, my needs became a problem for F.  He turned my suffering into his.  I ended up supporting him through my stresses.  It was the very definition of unhealthy, having a partner who couldn’t actually see past the end of his nose to support me.  When I was talking to A about F, he said “I don’t understand him.  He’s clearly very selfish”, and I can’t help but agree with him.  Anything anyone in his life was going through became about him.  The kids being kids and being loud or demanding became them misbehaving and being hard on him after a night shift.  Me needing a break and time off for myself when I was home with kids alone for days at a time on his days off was me making things too hard for him, denying him a break.  Me needing him for anything was about him.  

What does this mean?  It means that every time, for 14 years, that I was at all vulnerable, I had a partner who not only didn’t support me, but required me to support him.  I did so, to the best of my ability, and he criticized me for it.  So somewhere along the journey, I stopped asking for support.  I stopped being vulnerable.  I stopped needing anyone but myself.  I turned completely inwards.  This is where A and O, the loves in my life, find me.  This is where my strong friends, like G, find me. Strong and independent to a fault.  Reluctant to share my truths with many.  Not asking for help, but wanting the support (and perhaps needing it) more than anyone can guess.  

Now, I have two men in my life who ACTUALLY want to help me work through my weaknesses.  I have friends who are unfailingly supportive.  But I don’t know how to ask for the help I need. No, that’s not true. I know HOW to ask, I don’t know how to feel safe asking for what I need.  I’m bad at vulnerability.  The fact that I’ve felt raw and vulnerable this week, while I process this truth of my inability to be good at vulnerability is the wildest irony in this situation.  The fact is, I have to unpack this fact, dissect it.  Understand the healthy parts, discard the unhealthy ones, and figure out how to function better for my own good.  For myself, but also for the people who I love and who love me.  I need to model good communication and self-care for my children and that comes with not always being the strong person and being vulnerable sometimes.  I need to be better.  I’m still being strong and fun and unapologetic, which is good.  Going forward, I need to be someone who is strong and fun and unapologetic who is really, truly all of those things because I have the support of those I love and the strength to show them the vulnerable, feeling, hurting, emotional side of me too.  Understanding what led me here is a huge revelation.  Unpacking it will take time.  Thankfully, I have people who will encourage me to do the things I need for myself, including being there when I am vulnerable and ask for the support I need.

One of the many things I love about O is that he asks me what I need.  What I want from our date or what I want him to communicate or if I need anything specific in any situation.  Just by being himself, he is pulling my needs from me and making it normal for me to ask for what I need.  This game changer seems to be just naturally changing my game.   

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Freedom and love: G gives me perspective

Life is still incredibly amazing. I’ve made so many good decisions for myself in recent months, and my happiness is the reward for each individual success.  Tonight, G came over for dinner.  She is so great at communication that she came over a few weeks ago to ask for a little more time and connection with me.  Instead of doing things, she needed to connect – have substantial conversations and just be with me.  There are few things in this world that I appreciate more than people I love who communicate well, and this is true in this case also.  It’s so easy to give the people you love what they need when they ask you for exactly what that thing is.  Well, this evening was full of connection.  We cuddled and chatted and had supper and just laughed and talked and, well, were.  We just were.

So much happened in my life in the last week that there was a lot to catch her up on. With O, who has taken my life by storm and with A, who has been a bit of a storm of his own this week.  Talking about her world and its developments and a healthy dose of sex talk and sex toy conversations. It was wonderful!

Among the things that came up was how she never asks for help from others.  That several of the people in life are rarely aware that she is struggling until she fills them in later after she’s done processing. That is so familiar to me.  In fact, it sort of hit home when she said that, because she was the only person for months who knew that I was still hurting about D. That when I saw him it was like getting hit in the chest with a bazooka (no, this has not actually happened to me, it’s what I imagine getting hit in the chest with a bazooka would feel like).  I mentioned that to her and we talked through a few points to do with him.

Specifically, I realized that while I had been honest with myself when I saw him about still loving him, I had only been honest with G about what I was still feeling.  Even then I wasn’t completely clear with her.  Then a few things happened.  It was pointed out to me in conversation with someone who has never said a bad thing about D before that he is a total asshole.  I immediately proceeded to defend him and was stopped.  Simply put, he said: “Anyone who did to you what he did, in the way he did it, is an asshole.  There’s nothing to discuss there.”  This truth hit me hard.  It also happened only a few days after I had drunk texted D.  Now, my drunk text wasn’t particularly bad.  I wasn’t proclaiming everlasting love or pining for him.  I was just thinking about him and reached out.  I was drunk, so it wasn’t the most coherent ending, and the next morning, I apologized, said my train of thought clearly derailed and exploded, and explained that I wanted nothing from him but would like to be friends.  It was kind, apologetic, and I was a little vulnerable in it all.  He never responded.  

It’s funny to me that this seemingly small, insignificant event, one that I laughed off nearly immediately, was the final nail in the coffin of my affection for D.  In the end, I realized how little compassion and understanding he truly feels for others.  I realized how selfish and uncommunicative he was.  How he didn’t respect me enough to just say “hey, no thanks” to an offer of meeting for lunch.  

I was explaining all this to G today, and I said: “I could forgive him for dumping me the way he did.”  For not communicating when I had questions or offering an explanation or honouring what we shared.  But when he showed so little compassion for me when I asked directly for a response, I couldn’t hide behind the excuse that it was a one time thing.  All that time I spent thinking he was true to himself and did what he felt he needed to do to be happy meant I didn’t realize that he actually is just an uncompassionate, selfish, broken person.  This isn’t easy for me to write.  I write it, and despite months of  being apart, my go-to is to defend him. To focus on those amazing times before he broke up with me.  To forget that he hurt me worse than any man ever has.  

But G said several somethings tonight that hit me right where I needed to be smacked.  The first thing she said was that she couldn’t believe I could forgive him, because she hadn’t.  She said she is still every bit as angry at him as she was on day one because the way he acted was inappropriate and he hurt someone she loved.  She said she is pretty sure it was my divorce that was too much for him, which was too bad.  I said that the unfortunate part is that if he had just hung out and waited it out, only a couple months later, I was, by far, the best version of me I had ever been.  I pointed out that the people who waded through that dark time with me were now the people who were receiving the best version of me they possibly could.  That I am the best me in every part of my life now.  That people like A stuck it out and supported me and were everything I needed them to be.  He was exactly what I needed him to be on so many nights where I was done with everything in my world and I needed him to make me forget it all.  I remember saying to him that I needed to not talk about my hurt or anger, that I needed him to overwhelm me with sensation and make me forget anything and everything but what was going on in the moment.  I remember saying a version of that for weeks (months?) in a row.  I know that he never once failed to do so.  He helped me forget.  He helped me numb myself.  He helped me heal.  He helped me become the me I am now.  Not because he supported me (which he did) or that he put up with my crazy (which he did), but because he LET me hurt and be and process and ask for what I needed and take charge and just held on for the ride. He didn’t demand anything of me and never tried to save me and he was exactly what I needed him to be because he let me be the strong independent person I am and the weak person who needed to heal at the same time.

What she said, that hit me like a ton of bricks straight to the head, was: “Did it occur to you that what you got was the best version of D, and that he wasn’t good enough for you?”  Wait!!! What???  The idea that the best version of him wasn’t the wonderful times, but the man who broke up with me via email with no reason and then cut off all communication with me wasn’t what I was expecting, but when it hit, it hit hard and stuck there.  She’s absolutely right.  

As my best friend, soul sister, and a person I love unconditionally, G has my heart in her hands. She knows me well, she loves me deeply, and she isn’t scared to verbalize the hard truths.  Today, she said something that threw me for a loop.  She said that the people in my world who love me and attach to me thrive off my love of life, my energy, and my enthusiasm. That when I am down, or going through a dark period, like this summer after D dumped me, and I had to process all the hurt of the previous six months,  they can’t feed off my energy, and it’s hard for them. Some people, who want and can give that love and energy back to me when I’m not able to give myself, stick by me, support me, and love me.  Others, who just want to take, well, they leave, killing off a bit of that part of me that gives.  Fortunately, that giving part of me regenerates once I evict those people from my heart.  I’ve just completed that regeneration.  It’s amazingly liberating.  When I talked to A about this the other day, he made the point that I’m finally at that point where I can love in a way that isn’t limited due to hurt.  That I’m free again.  I think my NRE with O is a true expression of that new-found freedom and space in my heart, freed by my finally letting go of D. Freedom and love: basic human rights, at least in my world.

Awash in wondering

Time to write about some things that aren’t A-centric.  Of course, he’s been a big part of the new and exciting developments in my life, but there are a couple other people that deserve a little bit of time and attention.  I always write here as if I’m writing to people who don’t know me.  I know a few people who know me in real life read my random musings and I’m sure a few people I know read my thoughts without talking to me about it.  For me, this is all a part of my processing. If I can put words to how I’m feeling, the developments in my life, and adequately portray my process, I’m processing well, I understand myself and who I am and what I need in my life.  Who reads it is less important to me than for me to be clear within myself about how I truly feel.

L and I haven’t seen much of each other in recent weeks. I’ve felt the distance between us and hoped that it would solve itself, rather than feeling the need for an actual conversation about it.  The problem is that he’s busy most evenings, and those few that he is free need to be divided up between two women.  The third woman he’s dating now has a job working evenings, so they get together during the day, a time that never conflicts with my availability.

Two weeks ago, we got together and reconnected. It was cuddles and closeness and some good sex.  It felt like the summer dates when we saw each other more often and could enjoy our time together and not feel like it was being rationed. This last week, we both just wanted to cuddle and sleep.  We ended up doing slightly more than that, but it was rushed and limited.  

I was supposed to go over to L’s Sunday.  Truthfully, I was hoping he’d cancel, I just wanted a day by myself to do random chores and turn inwards a bit.  There have been a lot of new things in my life as of late, and I needed processing and recharging time.  At the same time, I knew that I probably wouldn’t see him this week if I cancelled, so I fired off a text message in the middle of the day asking if we were still on.  I admit to a sense of relief when he said he was having a hard time and needed to be alone.  (It hasn’t escaped my attention that it’s not a good sign if you are relieved that your boyfriend cancels on you).  Then I realized that something was off and asked him.  The rest of the conversation was an exercise in futility.  He was having a hard time with the group sex.  Not the threesome, but the fact that A and I had sex with two other people in the room.  He was being particularly hard on himself for even having feelings about it.  He seemed to have issue that it was something I was doing with A and not with him.  He wasn’t accepting my reassurance or support.  Mostly, I was annoyed, if I’m honest.  I don’t mind people having feelings – lord knows I have them reasonably often – but I was annoyed that he wasn’t owning his and trying to work through them rather than just dumping on me.  I spent a lot of time that night wondering if we are, in fact, compatible. Wondering if I’m too much for him.   In the end, I was just annoyed that the hot new development in my life was tarnished by his response to it.  I was also annoyed that he even had issue with my choices in MY sex life.  The feminist in me wanted to scream from the rooftops that it’s my damn choice and he didn’t have a right to an opinion (unless, of course, I was being unsafe, which I wasn’t).  In reality, I was supportive and kind and understanding, because I can’t hope to understand exactly why he’s feeling the way he is.  Monday, I got an apology from him where he owned his shit and I am no longer annoyed.  Hopefully moving forward will be OK.  More on my personal issues in a bit.

Things with M are….OK?  I think he’s still in, and I think I’m in, but my original lust for him has dwindled a bit.  He’s super hot.  He’s super nice.  But I don’t know if it’s going anywhere.  The sex is fantastic, but keeping my interest and my sexual attraction means stimulating me intellectually and challenging me personally.  I’m not sure he does either.  In particular, he’s got some interesting alternative health and science-sceptic views that aren’t compatible with my very strong scientific knowledge.  It’s my profession for fuck’s sake, so questioning its validity with “well, I just believe….” doesn’t really hit me well.  I think I just need to spend more time with him and see where it goes.  I’m torn because our kids get along so well. It’s amazing.  I really like one of his other girlfriends.  I just don’t know.  He cancelled our date this week and I feel ambivalent about it.  Is it OK to feel ambivalent this early?  I don’t know!

 

With all of these things in mind, here are the personal issues that hit me earlier this week:

The hot sex with A and the hot group sex with U and Z and dom/sub dynamics have my head reeling a bit.  The problem is that I’m having a hard time getting what I need out of the vanilla sex that I have with L and M now.  It’s not like it’s bad sex, it’s just that the “mind-blowing, overwhelmingly hot, overcoming my entire body with desire and exhaustion” – sex that I have with A and had in our threesome and then our foursome makes the great sex I have with L and M seem, well, ordinary.  

The truth is, I don’t know if this is a problem. But this realization, combined with the fact that I haven’t seen either L or M in over a week (and I’m not that bothered by this fact), means that I can’t stop thinking about whether continuing my relationships with them is the right thing to do.  Am I getting what I need and want out of them?  The reality is with L that when we saw each other more, we had more of the connection that was necessary to keep it going in between.  There was shared experiences and cuddling and laughing and doing things together. There was intellectual stimulation and challenging, interesting conversations.  Now we have a few hours a week together where we are both exhausted.  It’s not working for me.  It’s a barely stuck bandaid on top of a sore that won’t heal.  We need more time together to reconnect properly, not settling for a quick fix every so often.  

With M, now that the physical excitement is wearing off, as hot as he is, and as nice as he is, I’m not sure he IS the right guy for me to be dating. I’m not sure if we have enough in common.  There’s only so much divorce and sex people can talk about before it becomes a little monotonous.  There’s only so much sex you can have in between to distract you from the lack of intellectual compatibility.  

Add to this the fact that I’ll likely meet up with U and Z for some threesome action in A’s absence. This means that I will have a dom taking care of my needs in between dates with A.  I’ve been wishing for another date with A in between our weekly dates for months.  It would be pretty damn great to have a dom who can take care in between.  If I had mind-blowing sex twice a week like that, I’d be a damn happy lady, and then I’m wondering where my other relationships fit in there. The reality is that if the relationships aren’t bringing value and joy and connection and love to my life, there’s no reason to continue them.  I guess that finding the “sweet spot” that I need is the issue.  The reality of all of this is that I need to get together with both L and M and really commit to figuring out if what I need and want out of those relationships is what I’m getting. Until I do that, me trying to figure out what all these doubts floating around in my head mean is an exercise in futility.  In the meantime, I think it’s good for me to acknowledge that I’m having doubts and work through identifying why. So that’s where I am.

On a positive note, A and I are going away for the weekend. I’m giddy like a kid in a candy store. I can’t wait to see what this weekend brings for us!

 

Part 1: When the hot foursome outdoes the hot threesome!

My life just keeps getting more and more interesting.  After U showed her hubby (who I’ll call “Z”), the videos taken of our super hot threesome, he messaged me telling me that my blow job face was sultry and asking if we’d be interested in a foursome.  What followed was a week of flirting over messenger and planning for a date last night.  We started a group chat and talked about rules and desires and everything in between.  It was pretty great actually and I spent the entire week turned on and anticipating what was coming this weekend.

I worked a night shift Friday night at my second job, slept Saturday away, and woke up mid-afternoon with nothing but anticipation of the night to come on my mind.  I knew that many of my fantasies were going to be fulfilled, but I was a little nervous about sex with a new partner.  I was especially nervous knowing that Z is also a dom, he’s U’s dom, and that in our foursome, U and I would be the submissives of both A and Z.  I have a complete and total trust for A, we’ve ventured down the rabbit hole together and he knows me so well.  But Z?  Z was a complete unknown to me.  What if he was too aggressive? What if he was too demeaning? (One of my soft limits – I don’t deal well with humiliation and demeaning).  What if everything got awkward, and all the hot of the previous weekend disappears?

Well, it was equally as comfortable as the threesome was.  We got there early enough that we had time for some drinks in their kitchen while we were waiting for kids to fall asleep, and joked and laughed and it was clear pretty quickly that A and Z would get along just fine, and as Z brushed past me in the kitchen, he spent longer and longer rubbing against me until he reached up my skirt and I started rubbing the front of his jeans.  U and I joked last weekend that we both stopped and put our hair up (I get the BEST ‘just got fucked’ hair, and sometimes it’s a little ridiculous,  so I started making sure I had a hair tie handy, and apparently she does too!), before anything happened with A.  So, to start things, she said “Is it time to put our hair up yet?”  I have no doubt that this is going to be our code phrase moving forward!

We moved to the bedroom and things just escalated.  Watching A tie up U while Z established his dominance over me was hot as fuck.  A and Z spitroasting me while U was tied up and forced to watch?  Amazing.  Sucking off A while U licked me and Z fucked her?  Unbelievable.  There were so many fantasies that were realized last night that I may have to come up with whole new ones!  It was incredible.  There were three highlights of the night for me.  The first was having a man fucking me while the other fucked my face.  The second was giving Z head while U was giving A head.  I worked Z well, because he had amazingly easy to read reactions, so I knew when he was getting close and could slow down and delay things (Edging is fun!).  I looked up once, saw Z watching me and that just made me hotter.  Then I looked over at A, and realized that he was watching me.  We caught each other’s eyes and I smiled with my mouth full of cock.  I realized that while I was pleasuring Z, I was also entertaining A.  Basically, he was watching live porn while getting sucked off.  A and I made eye contact at least three times during those simultaneous blow jobs.  Each time I felt like we were connected though apart. I love finishing a guy off and I finally let Z cum in my mouth.  As soon as I finished him off, I moved over to help U with A.  A loves two women sucking his cock, and I love to oblige his fantasies and turn him on as much as possible. He didn’t cum, but it was safe to say he enjoyed himself immensely.

We ended up cuddling and chatting, me with A and U and Z.  All together, but our separate couple units.  A checked in with me, making sure I was OK, holding me, and making me feel safe and loved and secure.  I asked him to take me home and continue what we started there and he obliged.  

On the way home, we debriefed a bit. Both of us were happy with how things went, although A would have like to fuck U and I would have liked to have Z fuck me.  We discussed the parameters where we would do it again and how we felt about everything.  We laughed about how the adventure of our relationship has developed and once again about how A sent me a rejection letter once. (More on this in part 2!)

The third favourite thing of the night was being alone in my bed with A.  Getting him all to myself.  Sucking him hard and then having him fuck me hard and use me as he wished.  Then him rolling off of me and challenging me to finish him off.  I did.  We took hot pictures.  And when he came, my normal very quiet boyfriend made the sexiest sounds ever, and filled my mouth with the largest load I’ve ever swallowed.

Where do we go from here?  We do it again.  We have another date set for the four of us in a couple weeks.  I’ve wanted more of what A offers me in the bedroom for quite a while.  The fact is that I have started to crave the control he has over me.  I have started to need submission and find it hard to go a whole week in between.  I find that my vanilla partners, while amazing in their own right, can’t do everything for me sexually that I need.  I’ve wanted a second dom for a while, to bridge the gap between times I see A.  (Truly, I want another date with A every week, but he doesn’t have the time to give me.)  So, I messaged U today and asked her if they would be interested in playing with me alone when A was unavailable.  The response?  “Totally!”  So, it looks like I’ll be a unicorn in my own right starting in the near future.  I’m not sure where we will take this. Will it be an awesome sexy FWB situation where we are just great friends that fuck?  Will we end up dating? Will we be dating as a couple or will I be dating them and bring my A in whenever I can?  I don’t know.  I’m not sure I care.  I’m so happy to have amazing friends like U, who can be my best friend who I can fuck and talk about kids with and talk about sex with and talk about other partners with and talk about feelings with and it’s never weird.  I already love her, what happens next doesn’t scare me at all.  I’m still unable to do casual sex, but it turns out that I’m able to blur the line between friendship and sex just a little!

10 things I learned this week

  1. When your friend asks your boyfriend for a one-on-one date after a hot threesome, you might have some feelings on the matter.  It may surprise you that it is not jealousy – the idea of them having sex is hot to you  – it’s the fact that he already doesn’t have that much time for you to begin with, you don’t want to lose more time with him.  He responds in the most reassuring and loving way he can. It’s perfect.
  2. When you start talking about feelings with said boyfriend and then rather than feel the disappointment of his inappropriate response, you get ridiculously drunk, it is a bad idea to drunk text your ex-boyfriend who you have finally managed to get comfortable with being in the same place as you again.  You might make things awkward.  Making an apologetic joke about your train of thought derailing and then exploding is not sufficient to make up for your drunken ramblings. You might not care that much; rather, you just find it funny.
  3. When your friend shows the super sexy videos from your threesome to her rather hot husband, he may start texting you asking to experience your hot blowjob face.  You might like the idea and start planning a foursome.
  4. When another ex-boyfriend says he wants to acknowledge your relationship and what it means to you both on Fetlife, and you decide on “It’s complicated” because nothing else seems appropriate, you realize that nothing about how you feel about each other or what your relationship means is actually complicated, because you have good communication and boundaries and neither of you want a classical relationship, but it sure is complicated to try to explain that to others.
  5. When you know you have the most amazing friends because one contacts you because she wants to talk about your friendship and what it means to her, you know you have an amazing friend who communicates so very well.  
  6. When you come out to a favourite coworker and an old friend each in a matter of days  and they just respond with support and “How do you have the energy for all the sex?!?”, you know you have amazing people in your life who only want the best for you.
  7. When you see multiple people in a week who haven’t seen you in a while and they comment on how happy and settled and content you are, you know you are living your life exactly how you should.
  8. When you dye your 7, 5, and 4-year-olds’ hair with bright blue, purple, and pink hair dye, you will learn that it is a very bad idea to ever dye the hair of a 5 and 4-year-old. But fuck will it be cute.
  9. When you go for lunch with the boyfriend and the friend you had a hot threesome with and she says her neck was sore from your boyfriend choking her and you get jealous for the first time about him being with her, because he’s never choked you so much your neck was sore, you realize you are truly and completely a submissive, and it just all makes you so happy to have him as your dom.
  10. You sleep, alone, in your house after a night shift for the first time ever and you wake up with the incredible thought that your life is exactly what  you want it to be and you can do anything you choose with it, you realize exactly how truly and completely happy you are.

 

The exact right thing

Sometimes things just work.  My life has ramped up in busyness.  I’m back full speed at work but loving every minute of it. F is about to move out into his own rental place.  We transferred ownership of our vehicles the other day and the cashier at the registry commented on how good we got along for people about to divorce and I laughed.  It seems that the stressful days that I have experienced aren’t the definition of stressful for most people and F and I actually get along pretty well.  Funnily enough, after I said that we have four children together, so we both know we are stuck together for the rest of our life, and it’s better to get along, she says “Oh, so what happened?  Did you two just grow apart?”  So, I responded in the only way I know how to when it comes to a complete stranger asking you to sum up the cause of you choosing to end your 14 year relationship as casual conversation.  I said: “Sure, let’s go with that!”

That same evening, F and I sorted through some household items.  We spent four hours together. Four hours, where we didn’t fight. We laughed, we talked, we compromised, we joked, we ate pizza with our kids. I had a glimpse of what it can be like if we manage to become friends, coparents, and a team for our kids.  It was an amazing gift of premonition about the potential we have.

Even later in that evening, I had my normal Friday night date with A.  I hate calling them “normal”, because our relationship is anything but.  It’s unique and fun and full of connection and mind-blowing sex.  When every time you have sex, it’s ‘top three’ good, you know you have something worth keeping.   

Earlier in the week, I found myself alone with time to spare, and smoked a joint and spent sometime with my thoughts. During that time, my brain got in a negative loop that wouldn’t stop.  I started doubting everything.  Somewhere in my logical, not stoned, brain, I decided to email myself a list of questions that I should ponder, when, I wrote:  “you are capable of legally operating a motor vehicle”.

The next couple days, I spent processing my doubts.  My insecurities.  The imbalance in our feelings for each other.  Wondering if that translated into bigger problems that I am unaware of. Wondering if it meant that the commitment that we share isn’t shared at all.  Somewhere, in all of that, I knew that the problem was mine, not his, and that it was mine to work through and didn’t need to be communicated until I’d processed the shit out of it.  

As I processed, I realized that the root of my issues laid in the fact that there are things in our relationship that scream of “this is not a relationship but a side-piece”.  In my infinite loop of negativity, I focused on a couple things that really bothered me.  Among them was the fact that I’ve never been to his house.  That he never invites me out to anything.  That he nearly never comes out when I invite him out with my friends (and is rather dismissive of the idea in general).  And, as always, back to the fact that he doesn’t love me.

I get it.  He’s busy.  He often says something like “If you want me to come out to this event, then I can’t come to your place on Friday”.  I guess I feel like my kids must feel when I give them a choice between two things they really want.  Like no matter what, I lose one of the things I really want. That, right there, is where I was going wrong. I was losing sight of the fact that in that situation, no matter what, I win.  I win time with a man who brings so much value to my world.

As I was processing the shit out of my twisty bits that I didn’t need to communicate, A came to a poly pub night for one of the Facebook polyamory groups I’m part of.  I had been inviting him out every month since January, and the closest he got to coming was when he picked me up from the very first one, drove me home, and we broke my bed!  The happiness and comfort I felt sitting in between A and L, a hand on each of their legs at that poly pub night, was extraordinary.  It’s an incredible thing, to be out with two men I love, and being able to be out about it.  To have them sit at the same table and interact with each other and everyone else. There’s something so comforting about my life choice being understood and accepted and the men who are so important to me being accepted without question.  The gorgeous man in the suit on my right who can command a room in a second and the cute guy who is a little awkward in jeans and a t-shirt on my left.  It’s a wonderful place to be, however temporary.

This seemingly small thing, A coming out to this night, was so special to me.  More important than it should be. One of my friends questioned why it was important to me, and it got me thinking.  Why is it?  It’s because it legitimizes my place in his life.  It acknowledges it aloud in the only place we can.  A place that has been missing in my life since D left it, because with our polycule, back then, everything was acknowledged and normal.  The next day, on our Friday date, we were talking about the night and how he probably wouldn’t come out again.  It was hard for me to understand.  On a visceral level, it hurt to hear that he wouldn’t be willing to come out with me again.  So I asked him “why?” He said the only thing I didn’t expect to hear.  The one thing I hadn’t considered.  He said: “We have so little time together, that when we have it, I don’t want to share you with other people.”  This is a paraphrase, possibly misrepresented, but if so, it’s what I want to remember it as.  In that moment, he put a brake on the negative thoughts revolving around in my head, and reset me.  

It never occurred to me that he didn’t come out with me because he wanted me alone.  It never occurred to me that he valued the time with me alone.  It never occurred to me that he didn’t like sharing my attention.  It never occurred to me that he had thought about the fact that he would rather be the focus of my attention than to share it.  It never occurred to me that he wanted to focus his attention on me.  

He said the one thing that I needed to hear.  He’s either the most perceptive person on the planet, exceedingly lucky, or very good at reading what people want from him.  No matter what, I’m happy that he said what I needed to hear.  That I matter to him. That he wants to be with me. That he values me.

It seems so silly when I read it.  But being valued is pretty much the most amazing feeling in the world.

 

Monster metamour musings

Today, there was a post about metamours on a local Facebook polyamory group I’m a member of.  I saw the post in the morning and spent all day thinking about metamours. I have had a pretty wide range of metamours, when I think about it.  X’s girlfriend knew about me, but we’ve never interacted, because we lived in different cities. Fun fact: I’ve actually not seen him in person in 14 years.  B’s wife knew about me, but didn’t want to hear about me. She was very much “don’t ask, don’t tell” in her philosophy.  I suspect that a lot of this had to do with her unhappiness in their marriage, which ended in January this year. Then there was W.  She embodies everything that makes a metamour a nightmare. She was manipulative, insulting, passive aggressive, and outright lied.  She interfered in my relationship with F and she interfered in my relationship with other people.  She continues to get involved in our divorce and my kids keep coming home asking me questions about things she says to them.  I keep hearing the horrible things she is saying about me to friends.  She is a perfect example of what I never want to be as a metamour.  

Then there was D’s wife. She exemplifies everything I ever want to be as a metamour.  She welcomed me into her life before I even started dating D.  It was nothing for us to hang out before D came home from a date or for us to go for dinner together with her boyfriend or to go for brunch just the three of us.  She is the woman who gave up her spot in the bed so D and I could spend the night together, spontaneously, when I crashed a gathering they were at.  She is the woman who heard from someone else that I had said something that she wasn’t OK with, so she came directly to me with her concerns.  She is the model of metamour that I follow.  No judgement, no drama, great communication, support, and acceptance.  

A’s wife is very good friends with D’s wife.  I have no doubt they talk about me and that D’s wife plays a role in A’s wife’s acceptance of me in his life.  I have only really met her the once, the same night that D’s wife gave me her spot in the bed. At that time, my relationship with A wasn’t really a relationship yet, and it was new.  We’re 9 months in now, and I haven’t seen her since.  We’ve had a few texts back and forth, but our relationship exists mostly in likes and the occasional comment on Facebook.  I’m sure she knows a lot about me, filtered through A, like I know a lot about her, all filtered through A.  I find it hard sometimes that I don’t have more of a friendship with her.  I really appreciate having my own relationship with my metamours.  I have a natural tendency to think the worst.  So when A has to cancel or limits our time together, my initial reaction is always to blame her.  I always talk myself out of such ridiculousness, because I don’t really know her, so I don’t really know what’s going on in her life, and blaming without understanding of facts is stupid.  The fact is, even if she was dictating everything, it doesn’t matter.  This is where I think that many people would tell me I was in a hierarchical relationship. Perhaps I am and I’m delusional.  The reality is, A is madly in love with his wife. They have 20+ years of history together, some of it wonderful, some of it heartbreaking, but they are each other’s best friends.  They have a family together, they have their routines, and they have their life.  I’m not part of their life.  I’m part of HIS life.  He told me, in that brief period of time we were friends between our first date and our first fuck, that if she ever said she had a problem with his girlfriend, he would end the relationship.  That stuck with me, and while I know he would miss me, I also know where I place in his life, and I know that I’m not as important in his life as he is in mine.

Because of this, I am the metamour I am for her.  I’m not sure she’s even aware she has a metamour, or at least that there is a term for the relationship we have by virtue of sharing the same man romantically.  My position is to be understanding and accommodating and make things easier for all of this to work.  So, when A’s wife was having a hard time one weekend and really needed to spend time with him, I was understanding and forgiving when he cancelled a date.  When we set up weekly dates so that he could keep his weekend dates with his wife and family, I agreed.  It’s why when I try to make plans for us, I ask him to run it by her first, or ask him if she would be OK with me booking us to do an activity.  It’s why I accommodate changes in our plan.  It’s why I try to not ask for more than A can give (I’m not always perfect at this) and try to keep things casual and fun when we’re in between dates.  It’s just my part of making things easy for us to be together.  In the end, it’s about respecting the person I’m dating, his priorities, his obligations, and the other people who are important in his life.  More than that though, it’s about respecting his needs and desires in our relationship and working with him to create the relationship we want together.  

When I met L’s other girlfriend, I knew immediately that we were going to be friends. We just clicked.  I’ve been a source of support for her, welcomed her into my life with open arms, and I haven’t been disappointed.  She is really good for L and complements me well.  She’s young, but has had a life of someone twice her age.  She’s strong and independent and watching her make choices for herself to be happy is amazing.  She reminds me a lot of myself when I was that age, she’s still figuring things out and she’s doing a great job of it.  I’ve fallen into a bit of a mentoring role, mostly because I am older and have been through a lot of the things she is going through, but mostly, I think she’s going to end up being more like family. I can thank D’s wife over and over for showing me how to be supportive and accepting and welcoming of L’s girlfriend into my life.  L is so good at communicating things that he really facilitates his girlfriends being friends.  He loves us both, is committed to us both, and is creating a world with us where we all work.

I guess my point with this is that I think that if we are developing relationships that we allow to evolve on their own, without expectations or pressure, we should also do that with the relationships with our partner’s partners.  I think there are too many expectations in the metamour relationships in polyamory.  I think it’s good to respect your metamours for their decisions and their comfort levels.  What makes you happier and more comfortable may not be doable with them.  Attempt to understand them and be the metamour you would like to have.  

There’s going to be an inevitable time when I have a conflict with a metamour in the future.  I hope when it happens, I remember my own advice, to try and understand them and work with them.