She’s right there, asking me “But what If I do have sex with someone else and I end up feeling awful about it? What if I get my heart broken or my ego bruised? What if it makes me so emotional that it scares them off ‘cause now I’m crying and I can’t explain why? What if they feel used because this all turns out to prove that I’m not polyamorous and I can’t do it?”
In which I learn to reframe a particularly rude and infuriating question that gets asked at every family function.
I can't fucking wait to see where this decade takes me.
Is marriage your destination, or just a potential stop on your great journey?
Being a woman has nothing to do with my anatomy or my hobbies or my sexuality or my talents.
We all suffer, in varying degrees and for different reasons - but we all suffer.
I was in a love-full and sex-less marriage. I don't remember the last time I had sex with my husband before he died, but I'd estimated it'd been at least three years, if not longer. When I started dating again...well, the first guy was poly and his partner wasn't comfortable with him having sex… Continue reading Sex-Specters, Orgasm Demons, and Jizz Sheets: An Evolution of my perceptions of other people’s sex lives and *my* space
Are you trying to make a change in your life? Acknowledged some bad habits and are doing the work to address their sources and make adjustments to overcome them? There's something that's not in the "self-improvement" manual that I think you should know. There are people in your periphery who are going to be hard-pressed… Continue reading Addendum to the self-improvement manual
Many years ago, I had a friend, Brian, who went through therapy and was able to accept that he had codependent tendencies. With his therapist, he began to set boundaries, and by talking about it with his friends, he kept cementing the new value-set in his brain. Problem was, Brian turned into a bit of… Continue reading Learning to love without solutions: further insights from a recovering codependent
They met in the caterpillar colony, under the shade of a broad leaf. "What are you doing?" she asked. "I'm shooting spitballs at butterflies." he responded. She seemed puzzled. "The butterflies are beautiful and free. Why are you shooting spitballs at them?" He shrugged. "They're not any better than we are. And when I hit… Continue reading Shooting spitballs at butterflies