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.



All the feelings

I’m deep in processing things that have happened over the last week. I should be working on some prep work for my full-time job, or perhaps some extracurricular work for my casual job, but I’m finding myself highly unmotivated on the work front.  I’ve worked a lot more days in my second job than I have in a long time in this last week. Four day shifts, that are 12.5 hours each.  Of course, instead of adulting and going home and sleeping in between, I did something every night.  Day one I spent the night at L’s, Day 2 I went for drinks with coworkers who also found themselves single this summer, and day 3 I went out with my new metamour, L’s other partner and we ended up at an event for our local poly group.  I got about four hours of sleep a night and although yesterday was Saturday, I crashed at 7:30 and got out of bed at 9 a.m. I feel like a new person today.

This week was full of feelings on my part.  Not bad ones, not good ones, but just feelings that I don’t really like to deal with.  The twisty bits are often indicative of a problem inside me.  Not a problem caused by others, but one that deals with me not processing something properly or being too reactive about something. It means I’ve had to turn inward a bit lately and think about what my feelings mean, what I really want, and where I want to go.  

The first was the twisty bits with A.  I had thought it was me feeling a little unimportant and unvalued because of some jokes he was making about our relationship and what it means to him.  When I spoke to him about it, he assured me he was committed to me and explained again that for him it was less about the words and more about the actions, again.  I say again, because we’ve had this talk, and when I think it through, every time, I’m reminded that, yes, he does make me a priority in his busy life.  We have our weekly dates and steal away for drinks or lunch when we can.  It’s pretty great.  So, I was thinking I’d got over the hurdle, when I was in the shower one day and realized that while I was not entirely unjustified in the feelings of being devalued, there was a pattern with me.  That is that every time we fall our of our usual routine, or see each other less or there is a period of time coming up where we will be apart for a long time, I have an attack of feelings.  

Having thought about this a little more, it actually makes a lot of sense.  If he’s showing me that he values me through his actions, through making me a priority and spending time with me, then when he isn’t there, my subconscious reaction is to feel less valued. Of course, understanding this is good, but it’s not enough to just understand it.  He’s shown me over and over and over that I’m important to him, and there’s really nothing healthy that can come out of my doubts.  

So what do we do?  

Fuck if I know!  But I think that in the periods of absence, I need just a little more of the things that aren’t being in the same room where we can touch each other.  Checking in and chatting, good mornings and good nights, those things.  Part of it is that where we used to chat all day long, now it’s a quip here and there and the only real substance comes when we are together in person.  Add to that the fact that his wife is a little sensitive to him texting with me when he’s with her, where she didn’t before, and the next thing I know, we’re hardly in contact. What this means is a bit of anxiety about him going away for a few weeks and not being able to talk to him.  I think I just need to deal with it, with the hope that since we can’t fill up on time together before he goes, we can fill up again when he returns.

The other feelings had to do with L.  He was home but didn’t answer the door when I was stopping by at his house to pick up a few things I left there on Thursday night.  He knew when I was coming, and didn’t pay attention to the time because he was hanging out with his other partner.  I felt pretty damn unimportant. After waiting 20 minutes, I headed home to my parents to sleep. I was quite pissed about travelling about an hour out of my way to not actually get the stuff I needed, which included my nipple ring that had fallen out and I was worried about how quickly it would grow in.  In the end, I just made it clear that I was unimpressed and that it was bad form on his part.  I explained myself, he apologized, and everything is OK.  But what I realized in all of that is that I like him a bit more than I thought.  I was trying to control things and like every other time I do that, my heart has other ideas.  I’m not in love with him, but I care deeply about him, so when he didn’t answer the door, I was more hurt than I normally would be, had it been a friend or acquaintance.  There’s not much to do with this information other than acknowledge that it exists, but sometimes that’s the best way to process and understand all the feelings.  

I’m going to miss A terribly when we are apart for three weeks.  I’m going to spend some of that time with L.  But I’m looking forward to September, a regular schedule, and some normal again.  With my men a part of all of it.  

Disappearing stress

I was reminded today, by A, that I haven’t published anything in awhile.  It made me laugh, because yesterday I dumped some twisty bits on him and I’m pretty sure he came here hoping he would get more insight before he responded.  We laughed and joked and he tried to change the conversation, but in the end, we got through the twisty bits quite uneventfully, and ended up talking about all the other things.  

The last 3 days have been kind of amazing on so many different levels.   I truly don’t know where to start.  So I’ll start with A.  We had a great date on Friday.  Friday seems to have become *our* day, and I pretty much always reserve it for him.  I’m post-surgery recovering and can’t have sex, so we spent a much longer than normal time on the couch chatting, and I was several beers in before he arrived, so I was in a mood for fun.  For the first time ever, I jokingly tied him up and went to work having said fun. I figured that someone should have an orgasm in my house, since it’s been way too tame here lately.  Alas, I played way too much, but given the length of that blow job, I’d say he at least had fun.  Tying him up was totally not my thing though.  I like the responses when he grabs my head or moderates my speed or any touch, and taking away his hands just made it less connected. Fortunately, he just untied one arm and fixed that in short order and the night was saved.  Add to that the fact that I got a lot of other attention and I’d say it was a fantastic and much-needed night.  Twisty bits aside, I needed the connection, and I suspect he did too.

Saturday, I met the other girl L is dating, and we totally hit it off.  I’m eight years older than L, and she is six years younger.  We’ve been chatting pretty much continuously, and she is very much a 26 year old version of me.  He clearly has a type.  It’s funny.  Of course, L’s mind is blown that we both get along so well, but he takes it in stride.  After that, I went to roller derby again.  One of my very good friend’s husband wanted to talk about polyamory and emotions and how to deal with everything, and so I invited him along.  It was wicked awesome.  We had such a fantastic conversation, really enjoyed the match, and everything about it was great.  

Last week, I was chatting with D’s wife about her tubal ligation and asking about recovery time and limitations (mostly in sex, because, let’s be reasonable, I’m kind of needy when it comes to this – so says A, anyway), and I gave her a heads up that I’d be at derby because the time before was so awkward (in a hilarious way though).  When I had surgery, she wished me luck and I sent her a picture of my feet in these super fun hospital styrofoam slippers:


She joked that she didn’t get anything like that for her surgery and I joked that I’d steal some for her, and asked her her foot size.  So, while I was waiting to go into surgery, I stole a pair, shoved it in my purse, and brought it to derby.  When she arrived, she spotted me, as far away as possible from where they sit, and texted to say she saw me.  I said I had something for her and to come see me when she could.  There was more joking and awesomeness back and forth that made me giggle.  She came across at half-time, and as my friend’s husband went out for a smoke, I see D walk by and he gives me a wave and smile and I smile back, and she says “Oh, D doesn’t want to interrupt your date.”, and I laughed and explained that it wasn’t a date and referred them to a group we are all part of to catch up on who he was and then chatted.  When D came back, he came over, said he didn’t want to interrupt my date, and I stood up and gave him a hug and explained that it wasn’t a date.  He bought me a beer and the three of us chatted, mostly about how my divorce is going and my new tattoo, but it was good.  It was so normal.  So at the end of half-time, they left to go back to their seats, and I said “Enjoy your long walk, I intentionally picked seats as far away as possible to mitigate the awkward”.  D’s response:  “Next time come sit with us”.  So I laugh and say “Does this mean the awkward is over?” and he says “Yes”, and his wife laughs and says “You two are so fucking weird!” and that’s how it ended.  I sent him a text to say I was glad the awkward was over and apologized for my anger and hurt and the passive aggressive way I dealt with my heartbreak, but didn’t get a response, but for me, it was the ultimate closure.  I just feel so damn good about it.

Oh, and her slippers fit:


That night, I went to my good friends’ house.  They moved less than a block away, and they are derby refs, so we continued the night there. There’s not much to say other than it was a lot of fun. I was in prime drunken form and probably embarrassed myself, but it was great.  As seems to be the theme with them, there was some cuddling and love and tons of joking and laughter. It was amazing.  Honestly, Saturday was probably the most perfect day I’ve had in a long time.  A left so early in the morning after we fell asleep cuddling, I met L’s other lady, I had a great chat with my friend’s husband, I chatted and hugged and shed the awkward with D, and had a great, super fun non-adulting night with friends who accept me for exactly who I am.

Sunday, I had a Lego date with my 3-year-old, my eldest two came back from my parents’ and we had a cuddling movie night.  Then L came over, we chatted, and cuddled, and started a movie, and he decided to go home because he was tired, and the goodnight kiss ended up in more work on my blow job skills.  😉  (My main joke right now is that since I can’t have sex, I’m going to work on perfecting my blowjob skills and successfully deep throating.) It was just full of connection and awesome.  I like what I have with L.  He’s so sweet.  I describe him as the “cute new guy” to everyone.  He’s just lovely.  Kind, and funny, and strong, and accepting, and enthusiastic.  He’s a good match for me and my relationship with him is a good complement to my relationship with A.  A, I refer to as “sexy grandpa”, because that is exactly what he is.    

I’m back on OKC, on Friday, I eliminated the other 2 guys I was dating from contention for legitimate but rather boring reasons. They are both nice guys.  I’d have a great time with both of them.  But neither can give me what I need, so I needed to walk away.  Of course, this means that I’m talking to more men than I can keep track of, but it’s pretty great.  I have a date on Wednesday, and should have one or more others coming up.  A is going out of town next weekend, so I’m going out with L’s other girl on Friday, which should be fun.  

The biggest and most amazing thing is that F and I are in a good place again.  We had a great meeting with our lawyers today, and we are at the point of drafting a separation agreement.  I got basically everything I wanted and I think he’s happy too.  So much stress just disappeared from my life.

Now, if only I could have sex.  Because damn, 6 weeks is a long time.


The key

One of the things I always do is talk to G about my Twisty Bits.  She’s amazing at giving me perspective and accepting people for who they are and knowing their needs and desires. For the last couple weeks, A and I have been discussing love. This all came up after a rather drunken and intense bedroom session where he said to me: “You love me, don’t you?”, and I said “Yes”, and at some point, uttered the “love” word.  I was 3 bottles of wine in at this point and probably would have told someone I was Napoleon if it would get me an orgasm, so take it with a grain of salt.  What this event did was make me think about all the things that deal with A and me and our relationship.  What I realized in the processing is that I’m not “there”. I’m not in love with him. Yet.  I am definitely on the way there, I think he is amazing, and strong, and determined, and a fantastic person, and someone I love to hold.   I love everything about what we do together, from our amazing conversations to our high quality cuddles to the amazing things that happen in my bedroom that I’d rather be doing with him than anything else!

The other day, I was deep in processing mode.  I had spent a lot of time during the week thinking about my feelings for A and how to deal with them.  I kept going around in this circle about how I don’t love him but I want to be with him.  The circle kept going around with me trying to process why I didn’t feel as deeply for him as I have for other men I’ve been in a relationship with this long.  I realized that there was a wall up somewhere preventing it from happening, but I didn’t know what it was or whose it was.  I naturally thought I was all open and loving and it was with him (sort of a joke), but knew logically that it could just as easily be me.  For several weeks, I kept getting to the same place – it doesn’t matter.  I like A.  I like what we do and how we fit together in each other’s lives.  I want to be with him.  There’s no need to force it or label it or escalate it.  The thing to do is to just let it be.

But, of course, there was this nagging emotion in the back of my head that happens when I have a problem I need to solve, particularly a Twisty Bit that means I’m not processing my emotions how I should.  (It reminds me of my one of my kids’ favourite books: “But questions are tricky and some hold on tight, and this one kept Rosie awake through the night…”) As I was driving home, I was thinking about our relationship.  What it means. What we do and what that means.  One of the things I’ve joked about often is that A never makes the first move.  It was me that crossed the couch the first time, it is me that grabs his hand or reaches across the table to kiss him, it’s me who kisses him and begins undressing him, etc. etc. etc.  I’ve even joked that I’ve crossed the couch to give him a kiss and the next thing I know, I’m tied to a bed, getting fucked and spanked with a paddle.  But I digress.

This is my Twisty Bit.  I ALWAYS make the first move.  I’m always inviting him out.  Asking him to make plans for a date.  I’m always the one who moves in for the kiss or reaches for his hand.  He never advances on me.  Ever.  What this means could be many many things.  But what my insecurity does, when it rears its ugly head, is have me doubting how he feels about me.  I start asking myself if he’s as into me as I am into him.  Is he only with me because it’s simple?  Is he only with me because of the unique dom/sub relationship we have?  Is he not into me?  

I talked this all through with G the other day, and she assured me that A is very much into me, and we both agreed that I just need to talk it out with him.  So I will.

In the meantime, I realized I had another Twisty Bit with A.  It may be slightly related to the above issue, but it’s more specific in nature.  A has a lot of stress in his life right now.  As a partner that is new(ish) in his life and who isn’t his primary source of support, I have a hard time figuring out how to be what he needs.  This was causing me a bit of anxiety and insecurity the other day, so I squashed my Twisty Bit with a bit of communication.  This is what I messaged to him:

I really care about you.  I want to support you in any way I can.   I need you to feel comfortable asking me for what you need from me.  I’m pretty good at assuming that if you’re not talking to me that nothing is wrong, but I’m not immune to insecurity.  If you need time, please tell me.   If you need time with me, please tell me.  I want to enhance your life and be here for you.  

Sometimes I feel like when I’m offering things that I think may help that I’m actually causing more stress for you because you may feel pressure or obligation.  I don’t want that.  So if that’s the case, please tell me.  I want to be what you need, but our relationship is new enough and our situations complicated enough that I’m having a hard time figuring out what that is.  Please tell me what you need when you need it.

I was a little stressed when I sent this.  I was worried he would see my vulnerability as weakness. Of course, he appreciates my direct communication style, so this is what I got in response:

First things, you are not causing me any stress or adding complications.  I appreciate the fact you are providing advice and respite from the storm….I want to ensure that the time I spend with you is quality time, not wrung out, stressed out and distracted A…..

His response was perfect. Exactly what I needed to hear.


That’s right.  I squashed the insecurities and Twisty Bits with COMMUNICATION!!!!

Soon I’ll communicate with A about the other Twisty Bit and I’ll finish this blog post and publish it. Because he reads this blog, I don’t need him finding out I have a problem with us before I talk to him about it.  Look at me thinking before I publish!


I clearly wasn’t really thinking last night when I published my last piece, that A isn’t the type to wait around to have a conversation.  I really shouldn’t have put it in my last post.  It was uncharacteristically passive of me.  Not cool.  Of course, he read the post and texted me.  So I explained it all via text.  Naturally, there was a perfectly good reason for it all that made sense when explained.  

Communication is the key to all relationships. Communication is the reason my relationships with A and D are strong and functional. The lack of communication is the reason my marriage is failing.

Closing a door

The last week has been crazy in so many ways.  But I’m going to focus on a major decision I’ve made with regards to my marriage.  Let me see if I can piece together all the processing I’ve done during the last week into something coherent.

Last Thursday, I woke up with one of those rare (for me) feelings of unease. Like something was wrong, but I didn’t know what it was.  I hate things like this.  It makes it really hard for me to focus on anything else, and I obsessively process and try to work my way through things.  I don’t do well with not understanding my emotions.  As soon as I realize I don’t, I have to figure it out.  At first I thought I was just nervous knowing that I was going to kiss G.  Then I kissed her and it was still there, no change really.

Then I did some more processing and thinking and came up with a few twisty bits about A.  I tackled one of them.  I talked to G about the other and I still have to talk to A about it, and call me crazy, but I think it’s better if I talk to him in person about my Twisty Bit than publish it here to read. I do have a post almost entirely prepared about those Twisty Bits though. (Sorry A, you’ll actually have to have the serious conversation with me!)

So, that meant processing more.  I spent the entire weekend, except for Sunday night, alone with the kids.  This meant a lot of time to think and work and think and work.  One of the things I did was tell my four best friends from when I lived abroad that I am polyamorous. I did it in the best way possible.  Bandaid style.  I posted a picture of me with A and D and said “This is a picture of me with my boyfriends…”  and explained the whole thing.  In true friend fashion, they were all really supportive.  But my best friend there had the best thing to say:

Ahhh. I’m actually not surprised. And I’m not surprised that as soon as you were happy and confident in your professional and emotional life your hubby couldn’t cope. I’m glad you are finding yourself!!

Then I had a long chat with her on messenger and she pointed out a few things.  Patterns of behaviour that suggest that those bizarre boundary pushing behaviours, passive aggressive control manipulations, and general douchiness were actually present all along, not a product of the last six months.  She pointed out some situations where it was quite obvious that he was trying to control me. Where he said things that were so critical or manipulative or just a little too far past the truth to really stick.  As I thought of it, I realized a few things.  

When we were just the two of us, for the first 7 years of our relationship, I was strong and independent, but I made so much less money than he did that I was dependent on him and his support.  He could still be a real jerk, but it was seldom, because let’s face it, when you don’t have kids, things are a little easier to manage in life.  But there were times he accused me of trying to control him, or spending his money frivolously, or using him for this or that.  He guilted me about sex and he was a very selfish lover.  But it wasn’t that bad.  All of it could be excused by his challenging job, the fact that he was going to university full time and working full time, and the fact that he worked shift work and was often very tired.

Then, we had four kids in five years and four months.  I had two miscarriages in that time too.  I was depressed in the months leading up to getting pregnant with #2.  I’m a strong, independent, career minded woman and I was at home on maternity leave for 4 years. I sacrificed a lot to be home with my kids.  It’s OK, it was a choice I made, but it was still hard.  In between, I worked a job that I like, but didn’t give me the fulfillment that my job, in my chosen profession, that I have now, gives me.  I was unhappy.  Then, after #4 was born, I finally realized that I was depressed and went on medication.  It changed my life.  I was more engaged in life, I worked at making things work with hubby more, it was great.  In the end, after a year and a half on meds, I thought he and I were in a really good spot.  We weren’t really, but I thought we were.  

What I realized is that there was a lot of passive aggressive and outright aggressive criticisms of me taking place during those years.  Comments about how I shouldn’t be having a hard time and needing him at home on his days off because I was “just” at home with the kids doing nothing all day.  Comments about how all I did was “spend his money”.  Comments criticizing my diet, exercise, and appearance.  Recently, a lot of these things have really exploded. Yesterday he blamed me for all our financial issues and the told me that his mental health issues were because of the finances.

 Hmmmmmm…..sounds like I’m being blamed for his mental health issues.

These comments served to destabilize me more.  It was a way to control me. To keep me unhappy and “stuck”. For him to feel needed by me.  He knew I was unhappy being at home full time with kids, so he played up my dislike of it.  He knew I wasn’t fulfilled in my other job in emergency services and criticised me for taking a job in my chosen career instead.  He still criticises me about my job, complaining I work too much, complaining that I don’t make enough, complaining that I work and “let someone else parent my kids” (never mind that he is also working and letting someone else parent his kids….).  Then this crazy ass thing happened. I was professionally fulfilled for the first time since I graduated from grad school.  I found a job I love, doing what I want, with amazing coworkers, and great work/life balance.  

Then I reconnected with X.  He introduced me to polyamory.  I went through the growth of the heartbreak with him.  I met A, B, C, and D.  All of them have given me so much in my life, even if B is now a friend and C has disappeared because he’s W’s other partner.  I became happy.  Really, truly, deep down in the darkest corners of me, happy.  I found a part of me that I didn’t know was missing.  I felt (and still feel) complete.  

What I didn’t realize is how destabilizing my happiness and fulfillment in my professional and emotional life was to hubby’s mental health.  He no longer could control me.  With my happiness came the ability to calmly and patiently deal with life’s issues.  I had perspective and meaning and balance.  But hubby didn’t.  My happiness rocked his world view.  I stopped responding and getting angry at the little pokes. So the pokes got bigger.  He started stomping right through my boundaries.  He had to work harder and harder to get a reaction out of me.  Then, at a certain point, I couldn’t help but react.  I’m human. I got pushed to the point where I couldn’t be calm any more.  And I lost control.  And that was horrible.  

Inside all that conflict there was one thing that still was obvious.  I was happy. Complete.  In love with D and living my life exactly how I wanted. Then I crossed the couch and ended up with A.  My happiness and the ease with which I slotted A into my life was hard on hubby. He didn’t realize that I still loved him and wanted to be him, and that upped his boundary pushing to a point where it couldn’t be sustained any more. Because of all that pushing, I reacted and our relationship exploded.  

The last weeks have been interesting.  Hubby is not doing well. He’s quite obviously stressed – not sleeping, looks exhausted, unkempt and stressed.  He’s having a very hard time with me not reacting.  Except this week, I haven’t been my best and have reacted a little too often.  Mostly, he’s challenged by my calling him on his bullshit.  He’s complained that I’m not a stay at home mom, that I’m responsible for all the financial issues we have, says I’m abusive, he’s told me that I lost the right to be upset about the fact that he forced a situation where I had to tell a friend and my mom about being polyamory because I hit him. He’s told me he doesn’t feel like he’s ever had any control in his life.  He’s got a cloak of victim wrapped so tightly around himself that he can’t see how he is manipulating and being passive aggressive.  It’s sad.

What I had to ask myself after all of these realizations was:

  1. Do I think that hubby can do all the things I need him to do if we are to fix our marriage?
  2. What are all the things I need hubby to do if he decides he wants to fix our marriage?
  3. If he does decide that he wants to fix our marriage, do I really want that?  

It’s sad that this is what I’m thinking about.  But what it did was help me figure it all out.  The thing is, when I thought it was just hubby going a little crazy over a short period of time, I thought we could solve things.  Now that I realize it’s a pattern of behaviour that just amplified, I don’t think we can.

So, I’ve decided to formally separate from my husband.  I’m stressed about the details.  I couldn’t be more certain of my decision at this point.  

Katy Perry and Twisty Bits

If you knew me in real life, you would be amazed that I have made reference to something pop culture. Even if it is so 2009.

Life is plugging along.  I’m super busy at work, it’s that time of year when all the things pile up on me and I could work 18 hours a day and not keep up.  A is going through a terrible time of stress in his life and I’m trying to support him to the best of my ability. D had a surgery this week.  I made him a cake:

So why the Katy Perry reference?  Well, I kissed a girl and I liked it.  One of my best friends, my “soul sister” as I like to call her, who I will call G (for Girl!), and I started chatting several months ago.  She actually messaged me to tell me she had a crush on hubby and I warned her off because no one wants W as a metamour.  We started talking about fantasies and I mentioned that I want to have a MMMF fantasy, and an MMF, and an MFF.  Then we got talking about the two of us having an MFF threesome. So for a damn long time, we’ve been discussing and planning and working our way through the details of this big step.  

I’ve always been attracted to other women. But I would identify as heterosexual if anyone asked me. G is different, because I already love her, because she’s one of my closest friends and biggest supports.  But the fact that I can bring up an MFF threesome while she’s getting supper ready and I’m supervising my eldest at swimming lessons tells you something about who we both are.  We are just really open, sex-positive people who share a bond that we are willing to test a little bit for maximum experience.  

So, this conversation started in January, and it started with talking about who our “M” would be.  At the time, G only had her husband, who I will call “H”, and I had A and D and hubby.  Hubby was out because of W.  G wanted for it to be with someone other than H, because at that time she hadn’t slept with anyone but H for 18 years.  So that narrowed it down to A and D.

A and D are very different. They are the same in all the important ways: Kind, generous, open, understanding, supportive, thoughtful, great in bed, hot as fuck (OK, those last two are just me bragging) – but our relationships, and definitely our naked time, are completely different. D is very gentle and caring and sensuous and well, very talented like no man I’ve ever met in some of the crucial naked time departments. A is a man who takes charge, is dominant, gives me many many orgasms but teases me until I’m begging for them, and he’s strong and sexy and sometimes really cocky.  Underneath that rough exterior though, A has a soft fluffy interior and is actually quite sensitive, kind, and caring.  A and D are opposites on the narrow spectrum of people I like. I immediately suggested A as our guy.  Part of it is I know a lot about G’s sexual preferences, and A will tick all those boxes, and part of it was that at the time we started discussing it, A and I hadn’t been dating long so I didn’t have feelings for him, other than a lot of respect and lust.  Of course, A and I were talking about it, and he said that he mentioned it to his wife, and she said “Is it because she doesn’t want to share D?”  Well, turns out A’s wife is super intuitive, because that was what was going on.  So, I realized that I had what G and I call “Twisty Bits”, and thought it through.  I don’t really want to share D.  I love him deeply.  I don’t want another woman to come into his life and become important to him.  But that’s silly, I already share him with his wife!  But she was here first, so she doesn’t count. Turns out this twisty bit is a normal emotional reaction, but one I wanted to deal with before it becomes a problem.

I spent some time trying to work my way through the emotions of a hypothetical second girlfriend for D and I think I’m in a good place. I realized that D with his gentle touch and his gorgeous beard and his amazingly kind and gentle personality would be perfect for G.  That my problem was more that I didn’t want them having a relationship, because that meant “losing” time with him and time with her.  Now, I know I’m a priority to each of them, so it’s silly.  And that’s what I worked through.  At least I worked through the anxiety the hypothetical caused.  I think I could share D with G if it was a thing and just be happy about it and for them.  Because I love them both.

So, that brought us to A, with his extra special talents and his enjoyment of making girls’ fantasies come true.  Especially girls like G and I, who like a man who ties us up, takes control, spanks us, and gives us all the pleasure.  Now A has surprised me a bit in his approach to all this.  His response was “I need to meet G first and see if there is a connection”, when I asked him if he was interested.  (That was D’s response too, when I got to the point where I was comfortable asking him, because sharing him is still a little scary to think about).  He immediately went into “getting to know G” mode, as I like to think of it.  They tried to have a date while I was away for my grandma’s funeral, but it fell through due to illness.  With all that is going on in A’s life, it may be a while until they manage to actually get together and do a chemistry test.  This is all OK, because with all that is going on in my life, a long slow approach to a threesome with my soul sister and a boyfriend I now care deeply about is probably a good thing.  

G and I decided we should do a ‘chemistry test’.  See if we have chemistry together sexually, on top of our obvious emotional and intellectual attraction.  So, for many weeks, we’ve been trying to get together with the entire purpose of kissing and seeing what’s there.  Last night was that night. G is my soul sister.  I already love her.  I lean on her for tons of support and she leans on me too.  H, her hubby, has a thing for me. I have a thing for him.  All of us know that with everything that is going on in my life, I need another man in it like I need a hole in my head.   But that doesn’t mean the attraction doesn’t feel good.  Last night, G and I cuddled. We held hands.  I talked to her about my Twisty Bits with A, and she talked to me about her Twisty Bits with her boys.  Somewhere through the night, I just said, “I think I need to kiss you now”, and we did.  It was soft and sweet and gentler than any kiss I’ve had before.  It wasn’t deep or sexy, it was just “right”.  We have a chemistry.  I am looking forward to exploring it.

G is good at knowing what people need.  She knew I had never kissed a girl before, let alone one of my few girl best friends.  She cuddled me and rubbed my arm, and when she left she gave me a kiss and it was lovely.  I am really looking forward to more.  I’m so lucky to have all the levels of G that I have in my life.  She is truly amazing.