The appeal of debasement 

Image credit: Splooshworld

As someone who considers herself a fairly strong woman who very rarely takes any kind of shit, I’m frequently surprised by my desire to be sexually debased. I know many people reading this will be able to explain why this may be and I understand it myself – what we desire in “life” and in sex are very different – and yet still the question persists… whhhhyyyy? As a victim of sexual assault, why would I be drawn to encounters of roughness, humiliation and power play? Why would I essentially want to disregard an element of my humanness at such a vulnerable moment?

If I put on my rational hat, I’d probably think it has something to do with being able to take back some measure of control or rewrite an unpleasant situation. It makes a lot of sense when you consider it that way. Yet it surprises me that things that happened so long ago could still be in play when it comes to my desires. Or is it that they became intrinsically linked to my desires when they occurred? Probably a bit of both. Also, I think that, as someone whose experimented a lot and watched a lot of porn, maybe I’m desensitised and looking for something that makes me feel more. Not that sex without intimidation, humiliation, etc. is boring… Hmmmm, I actually don’t know where I’m going with this line of thinking. 

When I watch porn, I vary to extremes; either I like the nicely shot stuff with the attractive people and the respectful looking sex or I like when the girl is treated like a mostly inanimate plaything, usually with more than one guy. I don’t want her to be crying or anything like that but I’m ok with some visual discomfort and rough housing. The men view her as something attractive to play with. If she feels pleasure it’s purely incidental, a by-product of their actions or maybe something they instigate for their amusement but never the main focus. What matters is what they take from her and the visible and audible pleasure they get from using her body. 

Image credit: Storify

For myself, I haven’t really explored how far down the rabbithole I’m willing to go. Thoughts of being owned, commanded, verbally debased, physically overpowered and shared at will are all highly arousing. When I read about it, I want to experience it for myself – but always in submission to a man. Gender plays a huge role in it for me; somehow it’s not as appealing to be dominated by a woman. The element of power, strength and danger seem to fall away even as I know I could be just as easily be overpowered and controlled by a woman. Who do I think I am?! I’m tiny, a ten year old child could probably overpower me! A man with a female accomplice is gettting back on track but not a woman on her own. It’s fucked, I know, but the crotch wants what the crotch wants (crude as it is). There’s actually a small part of me that’s attracted to dominating another woman but it’s definitely not as defined as the part that wants to submit – to be debased, humiliated, controlled, belittled, manipulated, used. Whatever word you prefer, it amounts to this: to be made to not feel like a person in any sexual sense of the word, to be just a plaything, an object someone can treat as they will and for their own pleasure. 

Image credit: Polyvore 

But then again, how many of our fantasties turn out to be less than stellar once realised? I could think I want it and then realise it’s way too confronting. Who knows? The mind is a fickle thing. 


First holiday post (sorry, it’s not really about the holiday)

I’m writing this while on the train from Paris to Cognac. I’ve now been on holiday for a week and a day and this is the first time I’ve found time to write. Actually, that’s not a 100% true. I’ve had time to write but I’ve used that time to work as I’m not totally free of my work commitments while on this grand adventure of ours. Just under eight weeks left of Eurotripping spectacularness. 

I’ve been logging on each day to review event proposals/quotes and respond to any emails our Event Manager can’t handle on her own (or has questions about). Unfortunately, one week into our holiday, our Events Manager resigned due to a family emergency. Luckily, she’s offered to stay on and work remotely from Colombia until I get back but the dream of a smooth transition back to work, with someone competent working alongside me, has been shattered. I’m going back to where I was seven weeks ago; interviews, recruitment, training – all back to square one. I’ve stressed myself out about it for the last few days. 

When I worked as a PA, I never had this much responsibility. Well, I had responsibilities but it was more in the background, making sure things ran smoothly. Even when I managed a film studio, I was in charge of people and things but it was really just making sure the client experience was good and that we delivered on time and on budget, managing contractors, team mates, etc. but somehow it felt different. With my current job, I’m accountable for revenue. I have sales targets and I’m privy to the business targets and revenue. I see when a target is missed, if staff hours are cut because of a quiet night and I feel keenly the loss of revenue if someone fucks up an event. 

As the wife of the owner of multiple businesses, I would often get told about this anyway but being a paid member of the team shifts some of the responsibility onto my shoulders. It’s a heavy burden and one that often fills me with fear as I want to do well and I push myself very hard. Now I’m not saying these businesses are struggling, more just that now I have a lot more insight into how businesses run and it’s quite scary. There are so many moving parts and, if one part doesn’t know what the fuck it’s doing or isn’t engaged or committed, every part suffers. 

My trust issues are also sorely tested. In general, I have control issues. There I’ve said it; I don’t trust people to do as good a job as I would. I don’t trust them to understand it all and to work as hard as I do and not fuck it up. Of course, I’m not perfect and I definitely make mistakes but I also push myself very, very hard not to make them more than once. I also fear that if I (or my husband, let’s be honest, he’s as bad, possibly worse than me) push them too hard, they’ll quit. I fear this every fucking day. It’s terrifying. 

Even after saying all this, I’m still loving my job. I like the autonomy. I like being part of something bigger than me. I like being part of such a great team. I don’t mind working long hours because, being the wife of one of the owners, I can directly see how the business will benefit our future. Not that I’ve ever slacked off at previous roles but things change when you’re working for a business you have an actual stake in. 

I’m going to try and not let the stress of what’s waiting for me at home affect the rest of my holiday. God, what an empty sentence. Of course it’s going to affect me. What I’m going to do is try and not let it spread into a nameless dread of the work hours that will surely ensue once I return. But that’s eight weeks away. Right now I need to focus on sun and wine and cocktails and eating all the food. 

Natalie, don’t stress about something you can’t control right now. 


Can we talk about men in women’s clothing for a second?

Image credit: Highlight Hollywood

I came to a rather shocking (for me) realisation while watching American Horror Story – Hotel last night. Men in ‘women’s’ clothes are fucking sexy! Now, this was all before I woke up to the shitstorm that is the newest Trump scandal (him supposedly saying he likes the women in his team to ‘dress like women’ and the internet responding with images of women wearing any type of damn clothing they please with the hashtag #dresslikeawoman). But anyway, that’s not what I wanted to write about. In fact, it’s killing my buzz just talking about it.

What I did want to talk about is how fucking hot Denis O’Hare looks in AHS Hotel. He’s not normally what I’d go for but there’s something about how confident his character is sashaying around the hotel, doling out sassy words of wisdom to the other characters. He just owns it, outlandish eye makeup and all (don’t get me started on Lady Gaga’s epic wardrobe, holy shit!). But yes, he nails it and I found myself eye him off with something more than just appreciation for his acting skills. That being said, I liked him in True Blood as well. He played a very charismatic character then too. But I didn’t like him so much in the Freak Show season of AHS so it’s not like I’m always lusting after him.

I suppose this isn’t a totally new realisation. In the past, I’ve found guys attractive when they turn up to costume parties dressed as women. I think it’s a confidence thing. It’s awesome to see a guy all kitted up in women’s clothing – heels to boot! Pun intended – and just reveling in it. But in most cases, those guys aren’t trying to be sexy. They’re doing it for fun, to make people laugh, to be wearing the most interesting outfit at a party and maybe get laid. It gets me every time but this is different.

When Liz Taylor (O’Hare) is cutting around in his hotel room is his wife’s silky slip and fur coat, he’s doing it for him. Or should I say, she’s doing it for her. Liz believes she’s a woman on the inside and wearing women’s clothes feels more natural than what society has deemed acceptable for who she is on the outside. When the Countess (Gaga) gives Liz a makeover and she struts her way down to the ice machine (the first time she’s been out in public in this type of clothing), I felt all the feelings as I watched how scared she was at first and then how happy she became when she got to the ice machine and was like, “Yes! I am woman, hear me roar!” Why shouldn’t she be able to dress however she wants? And for that matter, why shouldn’t a man, who believes he’s a man inside and out, also be able to wear ‘women’s’ clothing? Why do we even have men’s and women’s clothing?!? It’s just fabric. Who gives a fuck?!

But I’m getting off track. This isn’t meant to be a political/gender diatribe. I was talking about how sexy it is to see a man’s body in women’s clothing. Maybe it’s because it’s taboo and I do love taboo. Or maybe it’s the contrast of seeing a muscular, hairy body draped in soft, silky fabric. Maybe it’s purely the confidence it takes to wear something society says isn’t for you and do it with a fuck-off attitude. I don’t know what it is but that’s definitely part of it. It’s not just a ‘oh he’s funny, he’s dressed as a girl for his buck’s party’ thing. Although, that’s sometimes sexy too. What it mostly is is having the confidence to be who you are out in the world (or in the privacy of your own home) unapologetically dressed as you please. I wouldn’t find it attractive if someone dressed that way to please me but I would find it hot as shit if they dressed that way for themselves and didn’t give a fuck what I thought.

So there you have it. I’ve added men in women’s clothing to my list of things that turn me on. It’s come as a little bit of a surprise to me but hey, you like what you like!

Image credit: Movie News Guide


Bad dates and updates

Not quite the right dynamic but you get the picture. Image credit: Evan Marc Katz

We had a few dates with a girl recently. I couldn’t really figure out if I was into her, which in hindsight should have been a clear indication that I wasn’t. Anyway, she was older than both of us, which isn’t a problem at all, but for some reason she felt a lot younger in the sense that she seemed a bit immature and kind of annoying, like a teenager might be. Maybe it was her constant chatter or maybe it was the way she seemed compelled to prove she was different and interesting. I expressed my concerns to Jared just before our third date but he said to not overthink things and to give her the benefit of the doubt. I thought – ok, Nat, you’re tough on people. Give her go.

Third date rolls around and things take a turn for the worst. She only eats vegetables and cottage cheese, which in and of itself is fine, yet she chose a restaurant that didn’t really cater to her diet. I ordered for us and told her to pick some extra stuff if she wanted. She didn’t. But then she said she wasn’t hungry anyway and just wanted to drink. Jared and me are huge foodies. We eat out a lot and love trying new restaurants and, when she announced her food preferences on our second date, I immediately had concerns. I felt like she would eventually feel left out of that part of our lives. Even if she was always happy to just drink, it’s not quite the same as all going out to dinner and enjoying a fabulous meal together.

Part way through the date she demands that we tell her how hot she looks. We oblige. I’m happy to give compliments even if they’ve specifically asked for. She then demands that we pay excessive amounts of attention to her, i.e. she didn’t really like it when we spoke to each other, even as part of the group conversation. I think she must have noticed that things weren’t going well because her chattiness amped up and she then started lightly scraping her nails across my legs. Now, I really don’t like being touched by people I don’t know that well. I’m sure if I was more into her, it would have been fine but I wasn’t so it just made me really uncomfortable.

When we left the restaurant and headed to a nearby bar for a drink, I sat on the seat opposite and left Jared to sit next to her in the hopes that I would be our of reach. I wasn’t and I probably should have said something but I didn’t want to be mean. I’d already pretty much decided this was never going to happen so my goal was just to get out of there without hurting anyone’s feelings. After we’d finished our drinks, we left the bar. I think she thought we were all going back to our place or maybe getting more drinks but, thankfully, Jared swooped in with something about us all “taking it slow” and I guess she got the picture because we haven’t heard from her since (this was Saturday night). This was probably one of the worst dates we’ve been on, which, if I’m going to be honest, it wasn’t really that bad. I mean she wasn’t batshit crazy, she just wasn’t the right fit for us.

As we headed home in the taxi, Jared was very quiet and I was worried that he was upset we weren’t going to sleep with her (he assured me he wasn’t but I think he might have been maybe a tiny bit annoyed). When we’d spoken about the date earlier, he’d been of the mind that we sleep with her anyway because how are we going to know if someone’s a fit without doing so? My thoughts were that if we know she’s not a right fit or aren’t sure that we click, we shouldn’t sleep with her because then it will complicate things. The next morning, Jared told me that she was quite needy and we were right not to sleep with her. He agreed that trying to deal with the fallout afterwards wasn’t worth the brief pleasure of sleeping with someone new. I’m glad he came around to my point of view although I still have my doubts as to whether our styles of dating are totally compatible.

By the way, we did talk about my thoughts on us seeing people separately (a post or two ago) and – well, it didn’t go as well as I’d hoped. I generally consider him a very confident person but, as our conversation progressed, I saw him spiral into a mess of insecurities. It was really quite terrifying and had me fearing for our relationship. Of course, what I’m proposing scares me too but I suppose I have a bit more faith in our relationship. We’re already doing things that challenge my trust and faith in ‘us’ whereas he’s not threatened by women (something I feel means he hasn’t really thought the whole thing through) so nothing we’ve done so far has really put that much strain on our relationship from his perspective. Anyway, he wants to talk to a counsellor about his insecurities because he sees how irrational and somewhat sexist they are so we’ll see how that goes. I can’t imagine it will happen anytime soon because it’s not something he really wants to happen (which is fair enough, it’s me that wants to change things) so it will be a very slow process.

On the upside, we’ve taken an interest in this little French chick that one of my friend’s occasionally sees. I suppose he’s kind of polyamorous too – he never sees anyone exclusively (or hasn’t for ages) and doesn’t get attached to anyone or demand they only see him while also being very respectful and not leading people on into thinking he’s offering him more than he is. So we’ll see how we go with seducing her. She’s coming on this boat cruise with us on the 11th so we’ll try our luck then.

Thoughts about swingers clubs (that kind of got a little out of hand)

We’ve gone on a few dates with this girl who told us she’d recently been to a swingers’ club on her own and hooked up with another girl. After telling us the story, she asked if we’d ever been/wanted to go to one. I said I did but Jared isn’t/wasn’t keen.

I actually used to work in one when I was about 18/19. It was a brothel on one side and a swingers’ club on the other, just on Saturday nights, if I remember correctly. I think it was also a strip club some nights too. God, it was so long ago. Anyway, I worked behind the bar, which wasn’t licensed to serve alcohol so the patrons brought their own in and we stored it for them, sold them mixers and mixed their drinks. It was actually a really fun job, if a little slow at times. Especially when everybody disappeared up to the rooms and into the spa baths.

When there was no one around to serve mixers to, it was my job to pick up the empty glassware and bottles and I would find an excuse to wander into the various rooms, ostensibly under the guise of tidying up. Of course, I wouldn’t go into any rooms with closed doors and, if people were ‘busy’, I would just glance at them and move on. I knew enough at the time not to be intrusive. It was one of those clubs that allowed couples and single women only. No single men. Couples would often invite me to join them but I only ever remember seeing a few women I was interested in. I would always say I wasn’t allowed to play but one time I broke and made out with one of the women while I fending off her partner, who I wasn’t interested in. She was beautiful – mixed race or at least brown skinned like me. The specific details are a bit fuzzy 15 years on.

Regardless, this girl bringing up swingers clubs got me interested in them again. And, like a goddamn Xmas miracle, I turned a page in The Ethical Slut and – shazam! – there’s a Public Sex, Group Sex and Orgies chapter. Oh my god, I thought. All my Christmases have come at once. It’s a sign! Of what I’m not sure but I thought I’d at least write about it.

Despite Jared’s reluctance, I would definitely be keen to go to one. I know there are a few in Sydney so it’s not like we don’t have the option one day down the track. Thinking of it, my mind runs wild with the possibilities. You might have guessed that I like to watch, which is what I tell Jared we could stick to if we were to go. We don’t have to participate. In fact, for our first visit, it would probably be better if we just watched then went home (and fucked) and discussed how it made us feel. Then, if the general consensus was that we felt good and it was a turn on, we could go back and see what else eventuated. For me, watching alone is plenty of fun. Seeing another couple or group of people all tangled up in one another, enjoying each other’s bodies, hearing the sounds of sex. Live and not on the internet. It’s part of what makes it so hot for me to see Jared with other women. That voyeuristic element where you’re watching something that’s normally so private and intimate (or, in the case of Jared and other women, that’s traditionally just reserved for me).

Of course, the adventurous part of me would eventually want to get involved in some way. Even just flirting with someone who’s not your regular partner in a sexually charged environment would be exciting and something I would imagine to be so different from going on a date in a normal public place. Flirting in a swingers club where you may or may not be scantily clad (or nude) and with even the slimmest possibility that you might fuck that person – oh my! The naughtiness of it all. The rush of being new and intriguing to that person, of finding out about them, playing that game of body language and eye contact that is most intense between people who have never actually fucked (in my opinion at least – I know it can still happen after you’ve fucked but I don’t think it’s ever quite the same).

I’d want to be able to look over and see Jared deep in conversation with another woman. Giving her his undivided attention as I’ve seen him do so many times with women who’ve taken his fancy. He’s an excellent flirter. Much more aggressive than I am (not in a bad way, just more forward). He makes them feel like they’re the only person in the room, which they pretty much are at that point. He’s very tactile and not afraid to move in for the first kiss. While he’s getting to know her, maybe I’m flirting with her partner and, seeing as we’re all hitting it off, we decide to move to one of the rooms.

The idea of being naked in front of a man that isn’t Jared is a little bit scary and a whole lot exciting. I’d imagine that we’d all end up on the bed in a tangle of arms and legs. The girls kissing, each couple kissing, everyone taking turns kissing. In my wildest dreams, the boys would also kiss and, you know what, this is my fantasy so, fuck it, they’re kissing too! Fucking another man with Jared deep inside another woman right next to me would have to be pretty high on my fantasy list.

I’d be able to hear his noises and her noises while also enjoying the attention of another man, feeling a different cock with a different rhythm inside me. I love hearing Jared make other women come. And then hearing him come as well. I think that would probably be enough to send me over the edge – if the guy I was fucking needed any kind of extra assistance, that is.

God. Didn’t this take a sudden turn. I think I need to get back to writing my erotic fiction. Will start brainstorming ideas, which is always the hardest part for me.

Public nudity and body positivity

Tonight I went with a friend to the Art Gallery of New South Wales to see Nude Live, a collaboration between Sydney Festival and the Sydney Dance Company. It featured about seven dancers (male and female) totally clothes-free set amongst the Nude: art from the Tate collection exhibit. So not only were the dancers nude, so was all the art. Perfect! Little teaser video below:

To say it was amazing would be doing the show a disservice. The dancers were incredible. The choreography was so beautiful – funny, sad, emotional. There was one piece between a guy and girl where it was like the girl was trying to get the man’s attention and/or affection and he was very listless and unresponsive – it made me think of depression, mental illness or even falling out of love. So many feelings during that piece. My friend actually teared up.

AND to make matters better/worse, there was one session where the audience could go along and get nude. Of course, loving public nudity as much as I do, I was SUPER keen to attend. Jared was a very definite no when I asked him. The first time they advertised it, I couldn’t find anyone to go with and missed out. Then they released two more nude shows. One friend couldn’t afford it so I asked this girl we’ve been on a few dates with and she said yes but, by the time we worked it all out, it was sold out. I nearly cried, I was so upset to miss out again.

Which leads me to today’s point: nudity. Some people are ok with it. Some not. Some are ok in a private setting with someone they’re intimate/comfortable with. Some not even then. And some, like me and a few other people I know, are willing to get their kit off anywhere, anyhow. In fact, with the current heatwave we’re experiencing and me working from home most days, I reckon I’ve spent more time naked than I have clothed… And I couldn’t be happier. Any yes, I do like having pretty adornments (i.e. clothes and shoes) but I’d much rather be naked and I don’t much care who sees (although of course I don’t like to make people feel uncomfortable).

I probably have 3 – 5 other friends that are similarly comfortable naked – although perhaps to varying levels of degrees depending on who’s around. Not to say there’s anything wrong with not wanting to be nude in front of people but it takes a certain level of comfort in your own skin to drop your clothes and be like “ta-da!”. One of our gay friends is always eager to prance around in his undies (or nude). I have one girlfriend that I regularly shower with after we’ve been to the beach or are getting ready to go out. I remember one day when we’d been at the beach and all went back to my shower-friend’s house to get ready. The two of us had a shower together and then my nude-loving gay friend and another female friend hopped in the shower (separately) but then we all sat on the bed nude and chatted and rolled around. My gay friend and I danced around the room – our bits jiggling freely in the breeze (ok, we were inside so there wasn’t a breeze but you get the point).

It was all very innocent and in good fun – not sexual at all, which is what I think a lot of people don’t realise. Nudity doesn’t have to be sexual. Of course, it can be and when it is it’s glorious but the human body isn’t immediately made sexual just by the simple fact it’s nude. The show I saw tonight was a case in point – fantastic but not sexual at all. The dancers had different types of bodies and all of them were beautiful in their own right and they were so comfortable striding around the gallery amongst the fully clothed audience. Goddammit, I’m so devastated to have missed out on nude audience tickets! Aaaargh!!

And you know what, I’m sure there’s a mental health practitioner out there ready to pipe up about there being a fine line between being comfortable with public nudity and being an exhibitionist. And you know what, I’m sure there is. But who cares? How does it hurt anyone? I know people will mumble something about children and consent but why should our bodies be looked at as something to be ashamed of. Naked bodies are normal and, as long as no one’s doing anything indecent/inappropriate, it might actually do people some good to see a normal body ‘in the flesh’ so to speak. 🙂 Which is why I love this shot of the male half of sassycoupleok walking down the driveway to get the mail – in the nude (obviously).  Without a care in the world. If only we all could be so free…

Drive Morning Paper 1a.jpg
Image credit: sassycoupleok (posted with their permission, of course!)

I would be extremely happy for it in this heat – although I suppose I would have to slather myself in a shit tonne of sunscreen everyday. Small price to pay really. 🙂


Big, scary thoughts while reading The Ethical Slut

I started reading The Ethical Slut over the Xmas period. Still going actually. I borrowed it from a friend and it’s literally falling apart in my hands. I’m definitely going to have to buy him a replacement one but that’s neither here nor there really and definitely not what I was planning on making this post about. Me breaking a book apart by accident – there’s a riveting blog post if ever I heard one.

Anyway, I’ve found a lot of The Ethical Slut to be common sense yet other bits have been quite enlightening. I especially like how the authors tell you to give yourself (and your partner) permission to fuck up. You’re entering uncharted territory (for yourself at least) so it’s unrealistic to expect it to work perfectly 100% of the time. You’re both going to make mistakes. You’re both going to unintentionally (I hope) get hurt.

The most important thing is that you talk about what went wrong and get it out in the open. Don’t let it fester. That’s what ruins things. (I’m actually queen of this. It takes me a long time to figure out how to say stuff in my head and, in the meantime, I’m working myself up into a state generally about not all that much.) So long as the mistakes aren’t malicious and they’re not repeated over and over again even after they’re discussed, then anything (I think) is resolvable as long as you’re more sensible than me and actually pipe up. As simple and obvious as this may sound, it felt nice to hear two people experienced in these matters say you should expect things to go south. Just don’t give up and run for the hills.

As I get further and further into the book (less than 100 pages to go, might try and finish it this weekend), the more I think about whether trying to find one person we can ‘share’ is really the right thing to do. The initial purpose of us opening up our relationship was that, as a bisexual woman, I’d never been in a relationship with another woman and I wanted to experience this. At the time, it seemed natural (and yes safer) to explore this together. But is it really a full relationship with a woman when there’s always a man present? Well, not always but you understand what I mean. When we would discuss seeing people separately, the eventual agreement not to seemed, to me, very much based on fear (my own as well).

But now I feel differently. I feel that if we really want to do this, if we really want to say we’re ‘poly’, as we have been, we need to at least seriously consider opening ourselves up seeing people separately. Of course, we would always inform anyone up front what our situation was. In my mind, the goal would be that, if you were going to see this person regularly (we would need to define whether that was twice or however many times), we would always meet the other person that either of us was seeing, even if they didn’t want to sleep with the other partner. We would at least need to all get along so we could hang out socially and they could be part of our social group (if they wanted to be a part of that, I suppose).

I would want Jared to tell me if he had met someone in one of his bars and was going home with them (so I wouldn’t wake up and worry). We would of course tell each other what we were doing and how our relationships were progressing (if they were progressing separately). In my mind, I have already resigned myself to being the person who would be less ‘active’ because I’m naturally less social and don’t gel with as many people as he does. Despite being a raging slut in my single days, I have mellowed hugely and have so far always been the one that wants to put the brakes on thing. I don’t know if this would continue to be the case but it’s what I think would happen, knowing both of us and how we’ve each behaved over the past close to two years. He has been attracted to many, many more people than I have and I would expect that to grow quite a bit if he was left to his own devices without me saying, ‘No, I’m not into her’ all the time and without him having to say to women on Tinder, etc. that we’re a package deal. Although, perhaps I would also have more ‘bites’, if it was just me (at least sexually/romantically/in the beginning). Who knows really?

Me ‘saying this all out loud’ (i.e. typing it on my computer) doesn’t mean I’m not terrified by it. I am. I definitely am. But if I honestly believe that Jared can love me and still pursue other relationships with other women, then why do I feel the need to limit him to only pursuing those relationships when I’m there/involved? And even though The Ethical Slut doesn’t necessarily agree with me (it says the agreements or rules you make are totally up to what each person is comfortable with, i.e. you make your own ‘poly’), it just doesn’t make sense. I don’t want to be ruled by the fear of ‘what if’. I want to trust that our relationship is about more than just who we fuck and that just because we fuck, like or eventually love other people, doesn’t mean we love each other any less.

And yes, if we went ahead with it and Jared went home with women and on dates, etc., I would expect to have moments when I felt felt jealous and miserable. But I would hope that I’d remember what I read and know that I need to look for the real reason I’m feeling that way. Am I feeling left out? Do I feel like I’m losing him? And then, once I know what’s going on, to then ask for what I need. Perhaps a date night with just the two of us or some attention and reassurance that he does still love and want me. Even after nearly 11 years, I can’t expect him to read my mind and anticipate my feelings (surely someone’s working on a mind reading app though, right?).

God, as I write this I’m actually wondering if I’m fucking crazy. Why would I want to do this to my relationship? The flip side is that obviously I get to see other people as well but is that really what I want? I suppose I do but, more than that, I want to be true to the lifestyle that we’ve subscribed to. I want us to give ourselves the chance to experience the richness of life that I believe comes from having multiple partners and a network of people all intimately connected whether directly or indirectly. A big, weird family, of sorts. And yes, of course there are going to be some fucks up – some major, some minor – and I’m sure there will be many, many tears and arguments and times when I’ll think back on this post and hate myself for even considering such a thing. But then again… what if?

Who knows if this will happen? I’m actually quite scared to date on my own. Having him there means we can share the conversation load. I don’t have to worry about filling in all the silences because he loves to talk. But, that being said, it’s definitely a little seed that’s taken hold in my brain and I’m kind of hoping it flowers.