I have another issue and I didn’t even post about the last issue I had. It’s like my life has become a never-ending procession of things to feel bad about.
This week I’ve been stupidly weepy. I’ve been chalking it up to PMS and poor reading choices – particularly “Confessions of the Other Mother: Nonbiological Lesbian Moms Tell All!” and “My Miserable, Lonely, Lesbian Pregnancy.” Neither of them left me feeling particularly enthusiastic about motherhood, a subject I already feel poorly about. I spent hours suffering from insomnia (a rare malady in my life, trust me) and crying, then being sleepy and crying followed by crying on the train, crying in my husband’s home office and crying in my lovely ladies arms. I didn’t have any particular reason for crying other than out of control hormones, but at least I knew I was being an idiot .
Just when my period arrives and my tears dry up on their own accord, life gives me something to actually cry about. Although, I may be a little premature in dismissing my hormones, since I cried at World Gay Pride after hearing that an old man was crying because he was so happy that something like Pride could happen nowadays. Continue reading →
Relationships are hard. That’s why I thought I’d take two of thm on at the same time. Glutton for punishment, I guess.
My current issue?
Being supportive of my husband’s efforts to find another woman.
My husband has, thus far, been unlucky in his pursuit of another woman for companionship or sex. It’s a hard world out there for men, and especially for a man who works from home and it is hard to meet potential honeys when you don’t know a lot of people. Triply hard if that man is married and NOT looking to cheat. A lot of women are put off by a man who loves his wife and wants to be honest with her about having extramarital relationships (and yet completely willing to hop in bed with a man who wants to be dishonest about it, go figure). Continue reading →
A few days ago I was in the library, pawing around the Social/Social Science section, looking for books about prostitutes (hey, we’ve all got our vices) when I came across Living Two Lives: Married to a Man & In Love with a Woman by Joanne Fleisher. It was the 6th book I picked up that day – I already had 2 checked out, bringing me to my 8 item limit. It was, of course, the first book I opened when I got home. I finished it in two days.
So, as you can see I haven’t been very active updating this blog. I have had lots to say and not so much time to write. Or ability to write. Or maybe desire. It’s a little daunting writing about your personal life so openly, especially when you are trying to make your personal life WORK.
For the past year I’ve been dealing with sexual harassment. I work alone with my boss, supporting him with his work. There are no other employees. In general, the harassment has been a lot of unwanted flirtation, unwanted physical comments/flattery and repeated requests to meet outside of work. Very rarely, it has been unwanted physical contact. The harassment has been mild, the kind I would tolerate from a coworker, but that is uncomfortable coming from someone who outranks you.
My girlfriend and I live very far apart. It takes about an hour and a half by train and a little longer by bike, so it is difficult for us to see each other as often as we’d like. My husband and I are considering moving for several reasons – including the unfortunately high cost of our tiny flat in our overpriced, boring neighborhood. I’d like to take the opportunity to move us closer to my girlfriend. Of course, this has brought up many interesting discussions on potential living situations. How close should we live to my girlfriend? A nearer neighborhood? The same neighborhood? A flat next door? The same flat? What option should we choose now? And what options should we consider in the future?
I’ve had a lot on my mind lately, but I’ve had difficulty finding time to write about it because I’ve been shuttling back and forth between my house and my girlfriend’s house. It’s lovely that we live all the way across London from each other. Advice for anyone starting a polyamorous open marriage: if you are going to see another partner frequently, keep the commute time down! It takes me an hour and 45 minutes to get to her place. It is completely worth it, but it is killing me!
Some of my friends know that I’m in an open relationship, but I never broached the subject with my family until today when I came out as open and bisexual. I never really imagined I was going to tell them about this aspect in my life at all – then I started dating this girl and I had to share it with my mom.
First, let me note that I like this girl way too much for my own good and we haven’t known each other long enough at all for me to mention her to my mom, but I did anyway. I don’t want to say any more about her without her permission, so I’ll stop there.
There are lots of types of open relationships out there. Some folks like to have sex with other people, but only at the same time. Some are only okay with their partners being open to the same gender. Some are okay with polyamory while others are only open to strictly sexual relationships. Some are only half-open. There are many ways to have an open relationship, but rather than delve into that can of worms today, I’m going to tell you about my open relationship.
The Theoretical Setup
In theory my husband and I are open to partners of any gender and potentially any sexual orientation except gay. We are open to both sexual and romantic partners, as long as we remain each other’s top priority. Ideally, a lot of us would be great friends and enjoy hanging out with any of the other partners.
I imagine a lot of people I know would be surprised to find me in an open relationship. As I child I was religious and exceptionally prude. When boys asked for my number I used to lie and tell them I had a boyfriend, even if I thought they were cute. My husband was my first sexual partner. So how did I go from one extreme to the other? What triggered the change?
I can’t quite put a finger on it, but I can tell you it started with sex. Continue reading →