These are complicated times

As some of you may have read on my other blog, I’ve been going through a bit of a body image/self esteem crisis of late. I’ve been dealing with it in a number of ways – some good, some not so good and some definitely bad. For example, I’m seeing a therapist, doing private exotic dance classes and have a personal trainer so those would be good things. I’m also going to restart my horse riding classes which I was doing for awhile there but cancelled them all when I worked myself up into a ‘I don’t want to do anything/what’s the point?’ mind rage awhile ago.

On the not so good-bad side, I have been partying a lot – sometimes to great excess – and comfort eating. Both the best and worst thing to happen to me is the opening of our new cafe where I now have endless access to delicious custard filled pastries and I avail myself of one literally every day I’m there (which is pretty much every day). Then, a few weeks ago when I was feeling particularly shit, I drove well out of my way to find a McDonald’s drive through where I scarfed down a double cheeseburger, fries, soda and choc fudge sundae with fudge on the top and bottom. And I had no regrets. The thought, “who fucking cares?” actually went through my mind as I gorged myself in the parking lot. This thought goes through my mind quite a bit actually.

I know what I’m struggling with is not liking my outside or my inside. I know this. But sometimes I get fed up and doing unhealthy things to excess seems to be the way I handle it. “Oh well, can’t control it,” my brain seems to think. “May as well push it to the fucking limit. What’s the worst that could happen?”

One of the perhaps in between (or good – I certainly don’t see it as bad) things that I’ve been fixating on is tattoos. For quite a while now, I’ve had a list of tattoos I want to get but, while I know what I want, I don’t know where I want it to go (a major part of any tattoo decision, really). Anyway, these decisions have been coming to me lately – I suppose as a means of exerting control over my body or trying to convince myself to like my outside more or maybe just to cover it up. I’m sure my therapist would have some thoughts on the topic.

Anyway, I already have nine tattoos across my wrists, back of my neck, shoulders, back of my thigh and a decent chunk of my back. Last week, I got a little red crown on my left shoulderblade. Only a small, fine lined one – nothing like some of the larger pieces I’ve gotten. But on Friday, I’m going to meet with another artist about my first really visible piece – a geometric half-sleeve. I have all my inspiration pics and I’d already scoped this dude out for another piece and I like his style so it’s not like this is something I’ve never considered before but it definitely feels like an accelerated process right now. After this one, I already have another text based one I want done and eventually a chest piece (still working myself up to that one). Some might say my creative juices are just flowing a bit more now – but others might think otherwise. Who knows? Either way, it’s happening.

As I mentioned earlier, I’ve been doing private stripping classes. Some of you may not know this but I used to strip when I was in my teens and early 20s and lately I’ve been missing it very much. It was honestly the time I felt the most beautiful, powerful, sexy and in control of myself in my whole life. I’d been toying with the idea of getting myself into shape (more or less) and going back and doing a shift or two. Not for the money, just for the experience. Just to feel better about myself, to feel desirable. Yes, I know I shouldn’t be looking for this externally but until I can find it within myself then I felt like this could be a short term solution.

So I started planning my outfits. I bought new stripper shoes. My therapist (both of them at the time) were very keen on this idea but, when I floated it with Jared, him not so much. I can’t say I wasn’t devastated for awhile there but I’ve resigned myself to doing the private classes instead. I feel more uncoordinated than sexy dancing to someone else’s choreography with someone that’s a much better dancer (at least to their own choice of music) but it’s something at least. We’ve been dancing to this hip hop song I don’t particularly like but she posted a video of something else much more sexy and slow the other day so I might broach the subject of doing some more kind of freestyle-y, sexy stuff – just shorter routines, we can learn quickly in each 1hr session. I feel like that might make me feel more sexy. I don’t know.

And, just when you thought I couldn’t get more fucked up, despite my complete and utter loathing for my body, I have stepped up my level of exhibitionist dressing to sometimes extreme levels. Corsets, harnesses, lingerie as outerwear, sheer bodysuits in fine dining restaurants, for someone that doesn’t like themselves physically, I do a good job of making it look otherwise. My desire for new lingerie knows no bounds (even though I only wear it out in public – for show) and I’m now obsessed with wearing stripper shoes in public. Ever the provocateur I am, except now it’s all front and no substance beneath. I no longer believe my own hype.

What can I say? These are complicated times for me.


So this is how it ends

I suppose it’s time to write about it.
We broke up with Cherish a bit over a month ago. On Saturday 2 June, to be exact. It was hard. It was definitely harder on Cherish and Jared than it was on me but it was the right thing to do for a number of reasons:
  1. She has/had anxiety issues and depression and the complicatedness of what we were doing was making her unstable. We were actually worried for her mental health and her personal wellbeing. I’d been telling her for weeks to see someone (a therapist) and I think she finally was able to have her first appointment on Tuesday
  2. My personal reason, aside from her mental health, was that she wasn’t the right fit for me. I was never going to get the mental connection I needed from her, whether it was the age difference or just a mis-match in personalities, I just couldn’t gel with her. I felt like her mum or her big sister, not her girlfriend. I had hoped that the connection would come with time but now I don’t really believe that. I think you either click or you don’t and, while we did in some ways, it wasn’t enough or it wasn’t the right kind of connection for me to continue the relationship
  3. Jared’s reasons – I have a rough idea what they are but I won’t speak for him aside to say that it wasn’t just my decision. We both agreed that it wasn’t working and, when we spoke to Cherish about how much the relationship was stressing her out, she agreed, as much as it hurt her to admit it.
So that happened. We told her on the Saturday night and made her stay over with us because we were worried what she might do to herself if she was alone. Jared then had family stuff to do the next morning so her and I had a bath and talked and then watched
The Handmaid’s Tale (nice light viewing, I know). She started to pack up her things and got upset again. Eventually, she had a nap. Jared had made plans for us to do dinner with some friends but she didn’t want to go so we went and, while we were gone, she went home.
We all work together so we saw her that week at work, which was tough. We already had tickets to go to a masquerade ball on the Thursday after we broke up, which we all still went to. We all got pretty wasted and Cherish ended up screaming at me on a main road for being ‘cold to her at work’, amongst other things, which was not fun. The night deteriorated from there really although we did end up on decent enough terms for her to end up back at our place (with other friends) until about 5am.
We were then all meant to go on holiday together to Hobart the following week. Cherish decided it probably wasn’t a good idea for her to come (a good decision in the end, I think). It was sad waking up without her on that first morning, realising she wasn’t going to be with us anymore.
But, if I’m honest, for me the overwhelming feeling has been of relief. I know that perhaps makes me a cold hearted bitch but, if I can’t be honest here, where can I be. I wanted a girlfriend, a partner, but I felt like I’d adopted a child (and I do not like children). I wanted to be with someone confident, someone who knew who they were and would contribute to our relationship, rather than just ‘be in it’. I felt like she was a passenger more than anything else, when what I wanted was a co-pilot. It just wasn’t right and, yes, I do feel bad for breaking it off but I honestly don’t feel like we treated her like a second class citizen or a secondary partner, it just wasn’t working because we weren’t the right fit for each other.
The whole thing lasted just over 3 months and, while there were some amazing times, there were also some very tough ones. It made me question myself so much. At times, I felt pushed so far beyond my boundaries, mainly because in many ways I felt like the outsider. I felt like her and Jared had this amazing connection and I didn’t and it upset me because I was the one that wanted that kind of relationship with another woman but wasn’t getting it. Of course, there was some jealousy. As much as I want to deny that, I can’t. There was some but mostly it was a feeling of being left out. As it turns out, Jared wasn’t having the idyllic experience I thought he was but, regardless, his was closer to a real relationship than mine was. But let’s not make it a competition, shall we?
Towards the end, the hardest thing was the sex. Jared would always come with Cherish. He would always reach for her first. He would always make an effort to make me come (or she would) but they would always finish together. I think maybe two times he came with me and that was only because she didn’t want to participate. For me, the most intimate part of sex is coming together or having Jared come in me and, for three months, I didn’t get that although I watched him have it with her. Maybe I wouldn’t have felt so badly about it if the two of us (Jared and me) were having sex but we weren’t (for various reasons).
I actually cried after the first time we had sex after the break up because I’d missed that connection so much. For so long, I’d felt like I was on the outside, always a participant or an observer, but always excluded from that final, most intimate of moments. I also acknowledge that the the whole sex thing put a lot of strain on Jared because he knew how I was feeling and had this pressure on him to make us both come. I can come reasonably easily but I wanted him to come with me every now and again. Cherish could only come from anal sex so I couldn’t make her come so it was really all on him and he wasn’t happy unless we were both happy. I get it, it wasn’t easy on him either and I guess that’s another reason it all fell apart.
So now it’s over and we’re left with the aftermath. We all work together and are civil and can talk to one another. Cherish is (currently) planning on coming to a concert with us that we’d all bought tickets to before we broke up. That’s in August so a fair bit off yet. She’s taking care of herself and seems to be more mentally stable and is much happier.
To me, the real damage seems to lie with me and Jared and, whether it’s due to the break up or just us, I don’t know but we’re not the same. We barely talk. We don’t fuck. We spoke about it in Hobart, that we can acknowledge that it’s just a hard time and try not to put too much pressure on one another while we work it out. But how long does that last for? We’re both so busy with work and, with Jared maybe opening a new venue this year, I don’t see that getting any easier. How do we find ‘us’ again after everything that’s happened?
And there’s more I should tell you, I suppose. More personal things that affect only me and Jared and have nothing to do with Cherish but those are things for another post. For now, this is enough. It has to be.

“I want my mum”

“I want my mum” is something I say to myself when I’m feeling really low. Usually when I’m crying, often in the bathtub. Have I painted a sad enough picture for you yet? Yes? Ok good, let us continue.

I say it but it’s not a real statement for me. More just a general expression of sorrow, loneliness and despair. My mum hasn’t really been that person for me for a long time. She was when I was little but, from my teens onwards, not so much. When I was a teenager, my mum was addicted to marijuana and it would send her into a psychosis where I wouldn’t know whether I would get “normal” mum who would listen and be reasonable (the epitome of the “cool mum”) or “fire and brimstone” mum who would quote bible verses at me and just generally be weird and sometimes inappropriate. Talking-to-your-teenage-daughter-about-the-anal-sex-your-husband/her-step-father-tried-to-force-you-to-have-the-previous-night kind of weird. Yeah, not exactly standard dinner table stuff. Honestly, I think she was just lonely and didn’t have anyone else to talk to – but also, sometimes just plain crazy from all the weed she smoked.

Anyway, as I said, I say it but it’s not like I’d call her in times of distress. I don’t really know who that person is for me. For a long time, I just took care of myself. I didn’t like to ask for help. I didn’t want people to know if I was hurting or if they’d hurt me. I was my own tiny little fortress that no one got to know what went on inside. In some ways, I still am that little fortress and in other ways not.

I probably have one, maybe two friends that I discuss some things with. With Jared, we obviously discuss our things but, in many ways, I’m more free to talk to my girlfriends about these things because it’s not as personal with them. Sometimes these things are sensitive and they can make people defensive so it’s easier to talk to someone that it doesn’t affect directly, someone that isn’t going to feel criticised or attacked or inadequate (or any number of other negative adjectives/verbs/whatever – pick one, go for it).

And then there are other things that I absolutely cannot speak about to anyone. Or I haven’t yet anyway. Because to say these things would be to breathe life into them. No matter who I say them to, they’re then out there, floating around in the world, free from the prison of my mouth and real. Because you can’t take some things back. You can think them over and over and over again. Roll them around in your head the way you would a lollipop in your mouth. Tongue the idea, take your time to see if it has merit or if you’re just being stupid, emotional, low.

But you can’t say them. Maybe not ever but at least not until you’re one million percent sure because sometimes these things can be life changing and the minute they leave your mouth you might realise you were wrong but by then it’s too late. The damage is done. You can’t stuff the words back into your mouth and swallow them whole, choke yourself on your own idiocy. Sadly, no. This doesn’t work. I promise you this.

And so I think these thoughts. And I think of my mum, who I will never call (not for help in this regard anyway). And I don’t tell anyone because I know the story of Pandora and the box and I know it doesn’t end well (for anyone).


I’m struggling with the feeling of being boring. I don’t consider myself a boring person (or, at least, I didn’t until recently) but lately I’ve been wondering.

In my life, I have relationships where my role is primarily that of “listener”. In some roles, this is really my sole purpose. I exist as a sounding board (and occasional voicer of opinions/advice/thoughts) to other people’s lives. Generally, I don’t mind. I like to listen. I like to hear about other people. I like to ask questions. I like to know more. I like to understand my friends. But I worry that now it’s starting to skew a bit unhealthily towards me not really being present at all in these conversations. Aside from, as I said, as a sounding board. Which, in and of itself, is not a terrible thing. I’m happy to be that person to my friends. It’s what friendship is all about, right?

But it’s a two way street, right? What makes someone interesting and how does someone show their interest in you, as a person? To me, it’s asking  questions. How was your day? What happened with X? How did Y go? The fact that I know and remember things about your life and ask about them, to me, signifies that I care and that you are of interest to me. Yet, I have to concede that not everyone is like me. Other people show their interest in other ways.

And yet, if you have multiple conversations with someone and they don’t ask you anything about yourself – not one single thing – and yet are happy to talk about themselves the whole conversation, is that healthy? What if they ask a cursory question or two before bouncing back to themselves as quickly as is polite, what about that? Or is healthy really what you allow? What you’re comfortable with? Are some people just not that interested in other people? Is that not how other people express their friendship?

I don’t know. I just know that it makes me feel invisible sometimes. It makes me feel boring. I already struggle with feeling that way in big groups because I’m soft spoken and struggle to be heard, which is why I spend so much time cultivating my one on one relationships. Because it’s just the two of us and I can really get to know someone and, in theory, the conversation should be more equally shared and yet… not always. Maybe I’m just a pushover. Maybe I’m just a natural listener. Maybe I’m just too private a person that I don’t want to talk that much. Or maybe I am boring. Who knows?

Anyway, I have a bunch of stuff to update you on. It’s been a fucked up couple of months although I do have a half-started erotic story to post, just haven’t really been inspired to finish it (although I do know how it ends). Just need to get in the mood to type it up. You’ll be the first to know when I do (mostly because it’ll get posted here – hehe, see what I did there ;)).

All the emotions and all the talking!

I feel like I can finally offer you a change of pace from the last couple of posts, which I feel have been quite negative.

Jared, Cherish and I all had a really nice day yesterday, overall. We got up and went for breakfast. I drove; I just got my license last year and Jared bought me a Mini for my bday back in March so I’ve been trying to get my confidence back seeing as I hadn’t driven since I passed my test back in June. Australian driving laws don’t let me drive Jared’s car on a Provisional license because it’s too powerful. Once I get a full (read: big girl/adult) license, I can drive it but not for a few years (min. 3 years since I got my P plates). Wow, I’ve digressed so soon. Not unusual for me though, I suppose.

Anyway, neither Cherish or I slept very well. She was quite restless all night, which kept me awake so I eventually told her to get in the middle so I could cuddle her. This ended up with me lying there next to her, unable to sleep; something which would normally have made me spiral into a very dark mood. However, there was something about her being so close to me and cuddling in various positions while listening to her breathing that actually calmed me down. So I didn’t end up getting up in a shitty mood after all. Poor Cherish didn’t wake up too well though.

After we went for breakfast, we  walked out to a nearby aquarium as both Jared and Cherish love fish and both want to get a fish tank. Cherish already has one, which she’s left at her ex’s place and Jared used to have one at our previous place but gave it to his brother when we moved and didn’t have space for it. There were moments throughout the morning when my head tried to make me feel insecure or left out but I told my brain to shut the fuck up. And it did, thankfully.

After the aquarium, we (I – I was still driving!) dropped Cherish home so she could nap and Jared and I went to visit his grandma in hospital. She just had a pacemaker put in but she was in quite good spirits and we ended getting to hang out with pretty much his whole family as everyone had come to visit her around the same time. (Aside: we’d told Cherish she could come with us, I just don’t think she felt comfortable and just wanted to sleep). After spending time with them, we went into the city so Jared could pick up some new sneakers (I got a pair too) and then went and had lunch. I was still driving everywhere and hadn’t endangered our lives in any real way – yay!

When we got home, Cherish was napping so Jared and I just pottered around til she woke up. Unfortunately, she’d had some bad dreams and was feeling quite anxious and out of sorts when she did get up. I snuggled her for a bit on the couch and then we took it into the bedroom. There was some making out in both locations and eventually Jared joined us. We all made out and then Jared fucked Cherish for a little bit. He tried to fuck me but I told him to focus on Cherish (more on that in a bit) but that I would suck his cock, if he brought it up to my mouth. Which he did, quite willingly, and both Cherish and I took turns sucking his dick. I loved that I could taste Cherish on him when he first entered my mouth. Cherish loves anal and can really only come that way so eventually he started fucking her in the ass but, I think because she was anxious, she told him to stop. He went and washed himself off and then him and I fucked and came together and we all ended up bursting out laughing because of all the noise we were making (and I expect Cherish was giggling at Jared’s orgasm face).

While the sex is generally good with us, there have been some teething problems now that we’re a three. Issues of inclusion and ensuring everyone is happy and getting what they need have put quite a bit of pressure on Jared, seeing as he’s literally the only dick in the room. After finishing the book Vagina, I felt like what I needed was more intimacy during sex and, for me, that meant him coming inside me. Later that evening, I told him that I was happy to forego him fucking me every time we have sex as a three because I would prefer he only fuck me if he’s going to come with me. Does that make sense? For me, when he fucks her, fucks me, goes back to her and comes with her, it makes me feel a bit like a stop off on the way to the real thing. So I said hopefully by just being able to focus on one of us (penetration-wise), it might take some of the pressure off him. I will of course still be interacting with both of them and I get off massively on watching them fuck so it’s not like I’m checking out of the sex entirely. For me, this is the way I ensure that I feel connected to him when we do fuck.

Back to the day, Jared had made a big, slow cooked ragu, which we all sat down to eat before Cherish had to go to work. We’d noticed she’d been out of sorts all day and, just before she had to leave for work, she told us she was feeling stressed out and anxious. She wasn’t sure we were all happy and she felt left out, like she wasn’t really a part of things (she mentioned all the pictures on the walls without her in them but I think that was just a way to explain how she felt like the odd one out in our existing long term relationship). We listened to her and agreed it must be hard to find your feet in a relationship like ours that’s already so established. I told her how I’d been feeling left out myself sometimes because of their (hers and Jared’s) natural chemistry and how I sometimes felt excluded from that but that it was no fault of theirs that it made me feel insecure. We told her that what we’re doing is difficult and we’re going to have rough times so we have to believe it will work and that we want to make it work. That she has to talk to us when she feels like this so she doesn’t overthink it and stress herself out.

I think it ended well as we gently teased her that she hates getting her photo taken anyway and, every time we want to take photos with her, she fights it. She laughed and agreed that that was just an example; it was more a way to explain how she was feeling. I think our sense of humour also gets to her – it’s very dry and often involves a lot of teasing, which for us feels natural and non-offensive but it clearly doesn’t sit well with her. It was the same way with my sister until she got used to us and realised we weren’t being serious. I think it might take a bit longer with Cherish but that’s ok. We need to be sensitive to her needs and, if our teasing makes her feel bad – even if we don’t mean it to, then we should tone it down, not just tell her to toughen up.

After Cherish left for work, Jared and I also had a chat. That was when I told him about my need for him to not fuck me unless he comes with me. He said no one asks him what he wants sexually but, when I asked him what he wants, he just said he wants everyone to be happy and comfortable and that, at the moment, he kind of dreads having sex with us, which made me sad. I know we had a tough weekend last weekend when we had sex twice but he didn’t make either of us come and we (mostly me) made a comment about it. I know I shouldn’t have but oh well, I was frustrated. After finishing Vagina, I have a clearer idea of what is making me feel the way I do and we spoke about intimacy and being affectionate with one another (not just sexually but also just in our day to day lives) and the coming together issue. Hopefully, he will now feel less pressured. Not sure if it’s self-centred of me to think that by just telling him what I need, things will be all good but what else can I do? Obviously, we need to talk about it as a three as we don’t really know what Cherish is feeling sex-wise. She isn’t very comfortable talking about sex or asking for what she wants although she has definitely improved since we first started seeing her. Oh my god, there’s just so much talking!

Jared and I then had sex on our own for one of the first times since we started seeing Cherish. I think this is only the second time, the first being on our 12 year anniversary a few weeks ago. Anyway, it was nice to have him to myself and hopefully he felt less pressure seeing as it was just me and he knows me and we can be more relaxed when it’s just us. We watched some TV afterwards (Monty Python and the Holy Grail) but went to bed part way through to read our books then went to sleep.

For the first time in ages, I actually had a good solid block of unbroken sleep – all the way through to 5.30am when I woke up quite suddenly and went out to see if Cherish had come home. She’d told us she was going to the bar she used to work at to see one of her best friends as it was his last night working there. She hadn’t planned on having a big night but we’d told her to just enjoy herself and both of us suspected she would be out quite late, just knowing the group of friends she’d be with and that everyone would be in party mode. As anticipated, she wasn’t home yet but she messaged at 5.46am to say she was just leaving the bar and would sleep at her house and see us later (we’ve got plans to go to the movies). Her and I texted for awhile seeing as I was awake and she said she was going back to hers to chat with her friend so I said good night/morning and laid around in bed for a little while longer, snuggled with Jared and then got up and here I am writing this blog post at 8.12am.

So there you have it. A day in the life of a poly triad. Lots of emotion, lots of talking and occasionally a lot of fucking.

Must read: Vagina by Naomi Wolf

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Has anyone else read this book?!? Oh my god, I just blitzed through about 440-odd pages in I think about four days and it has been seriously life changing. So many things I always felt but never knew, so many things I thought were just me and that something was wrong me with. I tell you, there were parts that I was holding back tears about (ok, I cried a little but I haven’t been sleeping well lately goddammit – don’t you judge me!) because it felt like someone was talking directly to me and telling me I am actually a fucking normal woman with a normal vagina and nothing I’ve been stressing myself out about is abnormal.

Honestly, I don’t know where to begin. It starts with how connected women’s brains are to their genitals and how literally every woman is wired differently. Literally. Every. Woman. We have these nerves that go from our brain through our spinal cord and then branch off to our clit, vagina, G-Spot, cervix, perineum and anus. And some women have more in some places and less in others. Some are on the surface and easily accesses whereas some are a lot deeper and harder to get to, which is why some women can come from anal sex and some from vaginal sex, some mostly just clitoral stimulation, etc. Oh, did I mention: LITERALLY EVERY WOMAN IS WIRED DIFFERENTLY? Well, ok, now you know.

Anyway, that was exciting enough for me because for years I’ve been trying to have the elusive G spot orgasm and maybe it’s just not possible for me. Maybe I just don’t have enough nerve endings there. You read all the articles and they’re like, ‘if you touch x this way and then do that, BANG bright lights, orgasm city’ and, when that doesn’t happen for you, you think something must be wrong with you. But maybe there isn’t after all, maybe it’s all just pressure to fit into this mold that all women are the same, when we’re not.

AND THEN it talks about how women need to feel safe and relaxed and connected and loved and cherished to really enjoy sex. They NEED foreplay to truly relax and let themselves go, which is why you often find frustrated women in long term relationships because the foreplay stops and the sex becomes routine. You don’t take time with one another anymore because you’re busy or you’re tired or that red hot desire isn’t there anymore or whatever the fuck it is. But women need it to relax and, if we’re not relaxed, it’s harder for us to come. And yes, we can sometimes/often still come without foreplay but it’s not that full body release that really makes you feel all melty and satisfied. It’s more just a physical reaction that, while it feels good, isn’t necessarily that release you’re really craving.

Speaking personally, I often feel rushed to orgasm. Not by Jared, more by myself because I feel like I’m being inconvenient if I don’t come quickly enough. Sometimes, I’ll just stop and say I’m not going to come, you just finish when maybe I could but I don’t know for sure and I feel like I’ve taken too long already. Which, when I type that, sounds really terrible but it’s true. Jared recently remarked that he wished he had two women that came easier (Cherish and I both take awhile and I know he has fond memories of the time we had a threesome with a chick who came multiple times pretty much as soon as you touched her) and I know he didn’t mean anything by it but, when I read this section of the book, it made me realise how much of an inconvenience I really believe my own orgasm to be. How did I get this way?

And hey, maybe men need foreplay to relax too. The science in the book seemed to indicate that men don’t need it as much as women but women really do. Anyway, it’s a book about vaginas so it wasn’t about what men need. They can get their own book called Cock or Penis or whatever, and I will read it when it comes out.

I will pick just a couple more bits that really resonated with me otherwise I’ll be here all night.

There was a whole bit about tantric sex, which, to be honest, got a bit spiritual and weird for me but the basic underlying message really resonated. Tantric sex is quite focused on recognising the goddess in every woman and respecting and cherishing her yoni (her pussy, for the uninitiated among us). It’s about the man taking the time to make sure the woman feels comfortable and loved and recognising that women take a lot longer to get ‘in the mood’ than men (science: men take on average 4 (or was it 6?) mins to come, women take 16mins) so it focuses on slowing things down and stroking and touching and not just getting straight to fucking. It also had a very interesting part on ‘sacred spot massage’ which I guess is a a bit like G spot massage and can apparently be a hugely emotional thing to experience. I did some googling and found someone in Sydney that does it and I might look into it, which might seem contradictory to my point above about not everyone being able to have that type of orgasm but surely I should at least give a professional a go, right? I reckon so.

And finally, the book talked about how important smell, touch and semen are to a woman. Yes, I did mean to type semen. But let’s start with smell and touch. Apparently, women’s bodies release relaxation and arousal hormones when they smell a particular hormone that occurs in men’s sweat, but especially the smell of someone they love or are attracted to. So hugging, touching, dancing close together, nuzzling their neck, all those little movements where you can get close to your partner and smell their scent is actually a turn on for women. Touch – again science says that simply stroking a woman for 10mins can release relaxation and arousal hormones and reduce her stress levels. Simple acts of intimacy – touching her hand, her neck, her back, stroking her hair, rubbing her feet, all these things make her feel loved and cherished and aroused.

Finally, semen. Women can actually get high off it. It contains hormones/chemicals/something plus sugar so when men come inside women it actually makes them feel high (chemical high and sugar high) and super connected to their partner. They did the same tests on women who just swallowed the come of their partner and while they did feel a bit high (sugar high), there wasn’t the same level of connectedness as there was when the guy came inside her. Same with people who have sex with condoms – the whole fluid inside the vagina is a big deal (but obviously safe sex is very important too). This was the part where I actually cried. I had been feeling so upset because Jared hadn’t been coming inside me lately and I thought I was being unreasonable or just jealous and now I know why. You need it to feel connected. It makes you feel bonded and closer to your lover. Now we just need to find a way so that everyone feels bonded and everyone gets enough of Jared’s come and it will all be ok. Ah, if only it were so simple. 🙂

Seriously, there were so many other bits that just blew my mind. I can’t even begin to go into them else I’ll just end up transcribing the book. If you’re in possession of a vagina, read this book. If you fuck one regularly (or would one day like to), read this book. Hell, just fucking read it, purely for the social history around women and how their bodies and sexualities have been both celebrated and controlled throughout history. Oh and did I mention it’s awesome?

The trials and tribulations of sleeping as a three

I want to share a cold, hard and very sad fact with you: I honestly can’t remember the last time I had a good night’s sleep that didn’t involve taking a Valium or passing out drunk. And no, it’s not because of all the wild threeway sex happening in our newly-bought king size bed. Sorry to disappoint you on that one but I believe there are a number of other factors at play here:

  1. It gets very hot with three bodies in one bed and whoever is in the middle invariably cooks the most. I actually like the middle because I’m one of those weirdos that is always cold and needs to have the doona on to feel safe (plus it feels nice to be in the middle with snuggle access to everyone whenever you want). Sadly, Cherish and Jared are like sleeping with hot, sweaty suns so me needing the doona in the middle of the bed doesn’t really work. How it usually goes down is Jared and Cherish alternate being in the middle (sharing the sheet) and I sleep on my side with the doona to myself most of the night until one of them will eventually crawl under once it starts cooling down in the early hours of the morning. My initial though is that we definitely need to get a lighter/cooler doona considering we have an extra person in the bed – I think that will help
  2. I’m a very light sleeper and I’m finding that having an extra person in the bed – an extra set of breathing, noise and movement – means I’m constantly waking up throughout the night and never really getting into that blessed deep sleep that makes you wake up feeling rested, ready to take on the day and in a generally good mood. Add to this that our new bed is much firmer than our previous one so I think it’s magnifiying every little movement everyone makes – again, keeping me awake.

Lately, I’ve been waking up throughout the night and then I find myself completely and undeniably awake at 5am, often earlier as 5am is when I usually look at the clock and think, “Fuck, here we go again.” Usually, I’ll lay in bed for a bit hoping against hope that I’ll fall back asleep but this invariably means I start thinking and stressing and working myself into a terribly black mood. So I’ll move out to the couch and try and sleep there. Sometimes I do, sometimes I end up reading. Cherish came out and snuggled with me for about an hour this morning once she noticed I was gone then went back to bed when I had to get ready for training. I was so tired in my Spanish class that I couldn’t stop yawning and I think my teacher thought I was some kind of idiot. My brain just wouldn’t compute, I was so fucking tired. Even now, I think I’ll be in bed by 8pm (or earlier) at this rate.

I honestly don’t know what to do short of moving myself to the couch permanently (it’s a pretty comfy couch, it wouldn’t really bother me that much if it meant I could actually get some sleep). I don’t want to have a take a Valium every night to get to sleep. I only like to use those as a last resort when my mind won’t let me get to sleep in the first place. I might start getting up and going for a walk as soon as I find I can’t get back to sleep. That might at least stave off the black mood that inevitably descends when I lay in bed trying to go back to sleep and knowing I’m going to fail. The problem with that is who wants to go for a fucking walk at 5am when it’s still dark (and about to start getting cold)? Fuck that shit. But I suppose it’s that or start the day in a foul mood because I couldn’t sleep and just stayed in bed working myself into a state.

On the plus side, our plan is to buy a new house this year, a three bedder so we can have a main bedroom, a spare one and the third converted to a home office. Personally, I think we’re going to be drawing up a schedule for who gets to sleep in the spare room as everyone seems to be struggling to deal with these new sleeping arrangements. Cherish is probably handling it the best, if only because she’s used to not sleeping well. She might actually be sleeping better! Lucky bitch.