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By samantha, on January 26th, 2012
I was interviewed recently by Sexy Typewriter about my open relationship. Or so I thought. If you’re reading this and you’re not a Facebook or Twitter friendly, it’s highly likely that you linked to me from the Toronto Sun’s website. Or the Edmonton Sun … or one of the many Suns across Canada (apparently what they teach in science about one sun is false information.)
So if you’re here and you want to burn me at the stake for ruining marriage or being a selfish whore or whatever else you feel I am doing to destroy society, I invite you to read my post, “I Am Not a Poster Child”.
I don’t think that non-monogamy works for everyone. I think there are definitely some careless un-safe non-monogamists out there, just like there are un-safe monogamists as well. There are happy and sad versions on each side.
It might matter to you what I do, but I don’t care what you do in your bedroom and who you do it with. What matters to me is if you’re a nice person. If you say thank you to the bus driver. If you hold doors open for people. If you teach your children to stand up to bullies. If you teach your children about gender equality and rape culture and eating their vegetables. I hope you remember to laugh at silly things. I hope you are honest with yourself and your friends and especially your family. I hope you like to indulge sometimes. I hope you live life to the fullest.
And I hope that whatever you choose to do with your love life that you are not judged and that you get lots of cuddles.
Feel free to commence the burning at the stake in 3, 2, 1 …
By samantha, on January 26th, 2012
I’ve been holding off on writing anything lately because I’ve had a bit of a chip on my blog’s shoulder that I’ve needed to remove. I told myself that I can’t write about anything sexy or otherwise until I am finally honest with myself about something that is really eating at my core. I’m afraid to write this post because I feel I will cry while doing it, but I suppose that’s not really the end of the world. (*note*: I did fight back tears while writing most of this.)
You see, I have a confession to make. I’m a fat kid; you probably already know that. But what you might not know is how evil I am to myself because of it. How I’ve let my inner voices rule my decisions, my self-worth and my motivation for years. Forever, really. This is what I’m having trouble admitting to myself, and to you. I don’t really like to talk about my weight struggles much, outside of acknowledging that they’re there, however I have to now. I feel like I cannot move forward and share with you other sexy stories, other activist-like posts and so on, without being 100% honest with everyone about what I’m thinking all the time, under the surface. All. The. Time.
 Fat in Grade 10. And obsessed with Shaq. Can you dig it? After finally separating my self-worth from my body image, years ago, I thought I was free and clear of all that negativity. Who was I kidding? Sure, I reached a point where I realized that I could be valued as a person with opinions, fears, ideas and personality – and that had little to do with the size of my ass, but I’d be lying if I said I’ve always been comfortable with myself. Just comfortable enough to get by and fake it. I would say that’s a pretty successful and content place to be.
Then 2011 happened. 2011, or as I like to bitterly think of it as, “The year that my heart was stomped on and I allowed my confidence to be removed out from underneath me.” Never mind the fact that I had three relationships end; the most serious one of all dragged on with empty promises and ill intentions. And what was worse was that I allowed it to for far too long until I just physically could not take it anymore. But the damage was done.
Somewhere along the way, the mixed messages full of compliments and rejection broke me. Those two separate bubbles of self worth and body image became one again and I began to once again tell myself, deep in my sub conscious, that I wasn’t worth anything because I’m fat. To add insult to injury, I actually gained weight last year and took terrible care of myself. And not just a little weight, but enough that my comforting tights that have fit for years suddenly don’t anymore. I got dressed this morning, into a favorite dress, and it was tight and I felt terrible in it. And my tights wanted to fall down. And my underwear wouldn’t stay over my belly. Because it’s too big. And I just wanted to crawl under a rock and melt away.
The reason I’m writing this out isn’t for you. I think that’s pretty clear at this point in this sappy, emo post. I’m writing this post to finally admit to myself all of the hurtful and harmful things I tell myself without realizing. This is me coming face to face with all of my inner demons and starting down the path to set them free.
“I am a lazy, fat slob.”
This is a perfect example of a sentence that I have told myself for years. Of course I would never say it out loud to anyone else, unless it was in jest; instead it’s always remained at the surface, like a little invisible monster that nobody sees but me.
I must be lazy because if I wasn’t I would work out more, right? I must be a slob because otherwise I wouldn’t feel hungry enough to eat that one bite more than you had. I must be not worth dating because I have a larger tummy than I should have for this body.
Right???
I think a lot of us fat folk tell ourselves we’re lazy far too often. We’re so used to failing that it just makes sense that we’re lazy. Might as well just accept that fact and get on with it.
If I don’t want to go to store on the weekends, I’m lazy. If I don’t put my laundry away, I’m lazy. If I don’t do anything but sit on the couch and binge on Netflix, I’m lazy. Ok, well that one counts. Point is though, I tell myself that everything I do (or rather “don’t do”) is because I’m lazy. Because everything connects to how I feel about my body and being lazy is what makes sense.
Except I’m not lazy actually. Well, on a Saturday morning I am. In fact, most mornings I am, but I prefer to call that “night owl syndrome”, not laziness. Anyway, I digress. It took a good friend pointing out to me that when I want something, I pour my heart and soul into it. Last year when I planned Digifest, and my baby, Playground, I gave my absolute all to those events. So much so that I ended up with a 5 day flu that had me barely able to walk to the toilet after they were finished. I worked about 40/50 days straight, barely stopping to pee or MSN for months leading up to the events.
And yet, my inner voice would still tell myself that I was a lazy failure. And some illogical part of my psyche would agree, and the self-hate would perpetuate.
What I’ve learned from my friends’ advice is that I can, and DO, succeed at things when I really want them. It has nothing to do with being a slob, instead it has everything to do with motivation. I succeeded at writing 220 pages of my book but have yet to finish the remaining 30. How could I be so motivated for the majority, but fail on the rest? I’ve been secretly telling myself I’m a failure for over a year because of it, but I’m sure I’m simply scared instead.
A similar story is to be told when it comes to my weight. It’s not that I have no idea how to be healthy. I’ve done so many good (and bad) things to lose weight and get healthy over the years. Bernstein, Weight Watchers, anorexia, bulimia, a personal trainer, working out at home, yoga, WiiFit, changing my diet … blah blah blah. I know the things that work, and with many of those things I’ve been relatively successful. Then something would change in my life and I’d move on to either something else … or nothing at all.
“Get back in the gym!” “Stop eating that cheese!” “Stop being a baby and just lose the weight already!”
I get it. Some of you might want to yell those things at me. Some of you might have been born with excellent metabolisms and the ability to wake up in the morning and work out without feeling like ass. You might have not had experiences with body hatred. Or maybe you have, and have gotten over it and forget how hard it is. Your parents might have never gotten divorced and lived across the country. You might have more than just one parent left alive. You might have never been mocked with fat phobic remarks like I have been my entire life. And while I don’t resent you your body privilege or ability to go go go, and while I won’t deny envying you, I will defend my right to be fucked up because of those things as the reason I am writing this confession to you now. It certainly doesn’t help that the first time I ever lost any fat I was anorexic, bulimic and an obsessive exerciser all at the same time. Because if there’s ONE thing I’m good at, it’s multi-tasking.
In order for me to succeed, I have to want to be successful. My lack of energy to try isn’t because I’m lazy, it’s because I’m unmotivated and absolutely terrified.
The absolute 100% truth in the matter is that I am pretty convinced that whatever I start to do for weight loss and muscle gain – I will fail in. And this is the battle I am up against. This stupid inner voice telling me that this time will be just like the rest. That I will have some success but then I will lose focus and get fat again. That I will never NOT be the girl who takes up too much space on the subway seats. That I will always be the girl who can’t wear heels because I’m too heavy and weak to hold myself up. And of course I will always be the girl pulling up my tights or my pants because they don’t fit me perfectly as there’s just too much fat there.
I WILL ALWAYS FAIL SO WHY EVEN BOTHER TRYING???
I don’t want to think that anymore. I don’t want to be distant with my husband because I can’t bare to take his compliments when I’m hating myself. I don’t want to avoid putting my laundry away because it makes me see all of the clothes I look terrible in. I’m finally trying to start owning it. I’m finally acknowledging those inner demons and trying to acknowledge every time, or at least more often, when I feed myself hateful language. I have only just started to realize how hateful and mean I have been to myself for years. And years. And years. I have let the fact that I have a large stomach rule almost everything I do, without even realizing it was happening. What’s funny is that I am comfortable as a big girl. I *could* be a smaller girl, but I’d be happy as a curvy girl forever. I have no big desire to be skinny. I mainly just want my tummy to go away. And I want to love myself again. And feel sexy. And give my love to others.
And fit into my fucking tights.
Now I just have to figure out which direction my baby steps need to go in and who can help me along this path. Because being stuck in my own head is obviously not working for me.
Let’s do this.
Please note: I am not looking for sympathy as a result of this post. I’ll take empathy and hugs, questions about what I’ve tried and what I haven’t, followed by suggestions if you have them. I didn’t write this or share it to have you tell me I’m pretty. I AM pretty, and smart, and sexy and pretty talented at a lot of things. I haven’t forgotten any of this stuff; the narcissist in me won’t let me. I just needed to share with the world. It’s a bit of a compulsion I have. If I tell the world what’s going on, I can’t pretend it’s not happening anymore. Thank you for reading this far. You’re probably a pretty awesome person and I hope lots of people love you.
By samantha, on December 19th, 2011
When I first started this blog I never wanted to be a poster child for non-monogamy. Sure, I’ve enjoyed what limited “fame” I’ve achieved (if you can call it that), but I don’t aspire to be the go to person when the media needs someone to talk to. That being said, I’m always happy to share my experiences – expecting, and somewhat demanding that people take them with a grain of salt. I was more than happy to oblige when David Paterson from The Grid wanted to come to my sexuality conference in November called Playground. The fact that anyone from a media outlet was interested in what I had created, well that had me pretty chuffed.
David mentioned to me at some point before or after my Playground Non-Monogamy 101 workshop that he would be interested in doing a piece on non-monogamy where I would be featured. I’ve said yes to similar pieces in the past and had a great feeling about both him and the girl who called me a few days after my initial interview to “fact check”.
That article can be found here. To be honest, the only issue that I have with it is that it seems to focus on the fact that – a few months into non-monogamy I struggled extra with the little details – like the visual cue of my husband’s date’s wine glass being left behind in my kitchen. When we were relatively fresh other people fuckers, silly shit like that was hard to handle. So I share those stories with other people because those are the things that threw me for a loop back in the day. A few commenters on the article have latched onto the wine glass story, suggesting that if I’m not comfortable with that then I must not really be happy with non-monogamy at all.
And this is a mild challenge I always see that, for the most part, I ignore. There are a lot of assumptions out there about open relationships. First of all, people will often react strongly when they hear someone is in one. “Isn’t that hard? What about jealousy? What if you fall in love?”. On the flip side however, if I suggest mySELF that non-monogamy is hard and that sometimes those questions can have really tough answers, then I obviously must not be happy with it. It’s not a practice that we should continue if there’s any hint that it’s sometimes challenging to have your partner fuck someone else and not you.
*blink* #sarcasm
I find this attitude so ridiculous which is why I will constantly strive to be honest when discussing open relationships. I would make a terrible happy poster child because I don’t just talk about the good on this site (and at my workshops), I also talk about the bad, and the ugly. Maybe I need to talk more about the good, which is a fair point. It’s always so much easier to talk about something challenging that we learned from instead of something easy that we just breezed right through. However in the interest of clarity, I will list a few points here that maybe I haven’t said in some time.
- Just as all of our time together has evolved – as we’ve gotten older / had new experiences / grown closer – so has the non-monogamous side to our marriage. There are many things that are much easier to deal with now – 5 years in, but were very definitely challenging at first – like the wine glass example from The Grid article.
- Non-monogamy ISN’T always easy. Whether you’re in it as a swinger or poly, it requires a lot of you and a lot of your partner and can be very challenging. Denying that it’s tough sometimes would be doing a disservice to anyone that was thinking of trying it.
- Fucking other people isn’t the only benefit to being open, which is something I try to stress all the time. It’s certainly a huge one, but there are countless other personal benefits on top of sexy fun.
- Acknowledging the desire to be selfish and do things for yourself is healthy. It’s how you choose to handle those feelings that dictate whether or not you are an asshole. I recently went out and splurged some money on new (needed) clothes and a hair-do because I wanted it for me. It’s not that I didn’t want something good for Steph as well – he’s free to shop all he likes! – but this didn’t concern him as I am my own person, with my own needs.
- While I certainly don’t think that we were headed down a path to divorce (at the time of opening up), I feel 100% certain that opening up our marriage was the best thing for our future as it has brought us more self-awareness, more confidence and more understanding of each other.
- Steph and I are more in love with one another, each and every day. As we grow and experience life together, our bond is constantly growing.
- I was never a “forever” person and now – as I see what a strong “team” we are – I am much more that way inclined.
- I admit it and I KNOW it’s hypocritical, but it is much easier for me to be with other people than it is for me when Steph is. Does me admitting that it’s sometimes difficult mean that I can’t be ok with it happening? Of course not. Compromise / happiness and unconditional love are things that matter very much to me and I will work through my issues because they are just that – my issues. Sometimes you’ll read about them here too. That’s kinda’ the point of this blog. You know, the diary-esque site you’re reading right now that has my feelings in it.
- Despite other people’s objections that Steph and I are stomping all over the “traditional definition” of marriage, blah blah blah … we feel, deep down, that we are very, very married. We still make all of our household decisions together. We travel together. We support each other when we’re sick. We buy groceries at one of the local stores whose name he always forgets. We share many bills. We get into married sex ruts. We burp and fart around each other. We take our cats to the vet. We hang out with our friends, separately and as a couple. Many of them are hetero normative, living “normal”, traditional, happy lives, and some are queer and challenging social norms because it makes them happy to do so. And sometimes we hang out with our friends that we sleep with.
- Being open has certainly brought us a little heartache over the years; me more so than him because I tend to get more involved with people emotionally, but he is right there beside me as it happens.
- Being open has also brought us more love. We have a bond between us that no one can break. We have people in our life that we likely would not have met without this lifestyle that we love like family and I can’t imagine not having around.
I don’t fool myself into thinking for one minute that the people that think we are awful, horrible, delusional, promiscuous heathens will ever understand. For those that feel offended by our lifestyle choices I am sorry. Not to you, but for you for having to worry about something that doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of YOUR time on this planet. For those that expect open relationships to be sunshine, light and orgies, I wish you good luck. I will be over here, hugging my husband, wishing the world love and cleaning up my wine glasses because we are fine and happy together knowing how important silly little details can be.
By samantha, on December 19th, 2011
I posted this first in 2010, but hey, it’s the holidays! Why not share it again now!
Now that you’ve read all about Oral Sex For Dudes, it’s time to get to the ladies. I cannot deny that this post will be slightly biased by my own vagina but I have spoken to enough gals, and been with enough, to have a good handle on what makes lady bits tick and what makes them yawn.
Let’s get to it!
As you can tell from the handy graphic I found (stole) from the above site in a Google image search, women’s bits are all very unique and as a result all require different styles of loving to get off, but here are some general guidelines. There are, of course, always exceptions to these “rules”.
- Going from a peck on the cheek to eating a girl out can be a bit of a leap. You don’t have to lay rose petals on the sheets or read her poetry to get your head between her legs but a little making out before you rush into her thighs is usually a good idea.
Read more »
By samantha, on December 19th, 2011
I posted this first in 2010, but hey, it’s the holidays! Why not share it again now!
In the spirit of the season it’s time for me to share with you my oral sex gift giving tips for dudes. So many people go without good head, settling instead for mediocre loving or none at all and it’s a shame. There is a saying that oral sex is like pizza; even when it’s bad it’s still good but let’s be honest. For anyone that has ever eaten a gourmet pizza you really cannot compare it to a microwaveable pile of goo, that’s done in less than two minutes. Pun implied and intended.
So without further ado, let’s get to the genitals, shall we?
Hey Cock-sucker!
Now I consider this a term of endearment but you might not. There are plenty of people that refuse to suck their partner’s cock for whatever reason. (It’s weird looking, it smells, he never takes out the trash, etc.) To start with, *most* penises are beautiful once you get past the alien appendage fear that some of us have. If they smell, well some people have lovely natural musks that is simply a part of sex and others might need encouragement to hop in the shower. Finally if you’re not giving head because he’s not doing his chores, did you ever think that maybe he’s not doing his chores because you’re not giving him head? It takes two to tango. Withholding sex is not healthy for anybody. We should never treat our sexuality as a commodity.
Read more »
By samantha, on December 11th, 2011
A simple Facebook status conversation has inspired me to write this post because my brain is now buzzing with thoughts on how the media talks about fat people.
It was innocent enough. An article in the Toronto Star – known obviously as being the mortal media enemy of Toronto mayor Rob Ford – talking about his recent performance in the National Ballet’s “The Nutcracker.” While there were a few vague political points mixed into the article, the general tone was light hearted, easy and jovial. No matter your thoughts on his politics, how can you not feel at least slightly amused when you see this amazing photo?
 - Keith Beaty/Toronto Star
What made me pause while reading the article was the below phrase; discussing Ford’s appearance with Ward 35 Councillor/Executive Committee member Michelle Berardinetti;
The pair, costumed in colourful Russian Petrouchka doll outfits — the National Ballet stocks a variety of sizes — escorted the cannon that initiates the battle scene.
Now sure, you can say that I’m being sensitive – and maybe I am, but I think this was unnecessary writing on the part of the Star’s reporter, Michael Crabb. We can SEE in the photo that the Ballet had a costume for Mayor Ford. We all KNOW he’s fat and maybe were even wondering to ourselves if there would be an appropriately sized costume for him to fit into, but was it necessary to actually tell us that they stock them in a variety of sizes?
What this tiny, seemingly innocent string of words does is simply perpetuate fat-shaming. And it’s something that happens to Rob Ford all the time.
Before I continue, I must stress that I cannot stand Rob Ford. As a person, his morals and ethics do not match up with what I see as likeable qualities. His politics make me sick. I personally consider him to be a liar and a disgrace to this city. He’s done more harm than I think any of us who actually expected a lot of harm from him can even imagine. I want him to go far, far away and I think he’s an buffoon. I don’t agree with some of the commenters in the original article saying that the author should have let it remain simply a “Spirit of the Season” piece and left the politics out of it. He’s a politician. Politics will never get left out of it and I don’t think that they should, really.
However, he’s also obviously a fat guy and it’s easy for us to poke fun at that. Especially when we also think the person in question is an idiot. Fat and idiot go hand in hand it seems and Rob Ford’s jack-ass behaviour makes that easier for us to jump on. Mr. Crabb decided to point out that the ballet had a costume to fit him because obviously we the people must have been wondering how they would deal with the fat bastard once he got backstage. I’m sure he didn’t mean any harm by those few words; but their existence point to a symptom of something that is very wrong with our culture.
Not only is the constant pointing out of Rob Ford’s weight lazy and unnecessary, but it’s harmful for two other reasons. The first is that it’s diluting the messages. It’s easier for us to poke fun at someone’s weight quickly vs. writing out a thought-provoking letter to local government protesting policies or changes we disagree with as citizens. We can put all our anger into pointing out how his head is sweaty because it’s a quick dig that makes us feel better – because underneath, we think he’s an idiot. Second, it’s sending a tragic message to society when we allow the media to constantly poke fun of his, or any other person’s weight.
We’re allowing it to be ok to make fun of Rob Ford for being a fatty because we hate him for his stupid political moves. Therefore, we’re perpetuating the stereotype that fat (often) = idiot. And what does that then do? Well it teaches people, including children, that as long as someone is – or you think they are – not very smart, then it’s ok to make fun of them for their appearance. Their intellectual “wrongdoings” obviously give you a free pass to mock how they look.
Do I want to make fun of Rob Ford for being a fat bastard? I can’t deny that I do because it’s just SO easy. Did I enjoy the meme of him kicking a football being turned into other things that made the rounds lately? I can’t deny that I did. The meme, however, is a hilarious picture being turned into more hilarity. To me, it’s just as ridiculous as Tom Selleck Waterfall Sandwich; not funny because he’s fat; just funny because of his pose, fat or not.
 Ridiculousness can be funny. Just like this is funny. (Click the picture for more.) If it’s ok to make fun of Rob Ford’s weight because he’s an idiot, then it must be ok to make fun of some dumb fraternity bimbo for being promiscuous. Her ditzy nature and short skirt and tiny top must make it ok to laugh at her / shame her for being slutty, right? Too harsh? Well maybe as a person that has struggled with weight my entire life and has seen countless other people get judged strictly on their appearance before they’re even given a change to show off their intelligence, I see fat-shaming as equally harmful.
We all need to be responsible for this and we need to stand up to the media if we see fat shaming being perpetuated. I don’t care if it’s idiot jack-ass Rob Ford being mocked for being a fat slob or Random Overweight Person of Interest B. By not making a clear distinction between disagreeing with someone because of their policies and hating them because they’re fat (and also disagreeing with their policies) we’re teaching our children that it’s ok to mock someone you dislike using their appearance as the target, rather than challenging the real issues underneath the XXL suit.
By samantha, on December 9th, 2011
Recently a conversation with my friend, Bobby Arthur, about video games, specifically Skyrim, and slut-shaming caused me to request he write a full guest post for you, here. Below is that post which I am excited to share on NYMP. I hope it causes you to take pause and think about the influence of media when it comes to female sexuality.
Odds are there is someone in your life who is spending their evenings slaying Dragons and amassing treasure in the most played game of 2011, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim. Skyrim is an open world role playing game (RPG) created by Bethesda Softworks and is set in a fictional, mostly medieval, swords and sorcery land called, Tamriel. It is a game where I expected to be killing and looting, but never expected to be slut-shaming. Read more »
By samantha, on December 5th, 2011
This is Part Two to this story. If you haven’t read that one, this likely will not make much sense. So please read it first!
When the doorbell rang, I could feel myself getting anxious. I was about to let somebody else into this very personal space that has belonged to Harvey and I for years. I was excited to be able to show someone else just how good I can be for him, as well as to give him the threesome that he’s never had.
As our guest is a friend of mine, it wasn’t too difficult to be able to relax and enjoy a glass of wine while he cooked dinner. There was something very calming about the two of us sitting there, watching as he prepared a meal. I was at once highly on edge and completely chilled. I could still feel the wetness between my legs from my alone time with him and wondered if I would feel ashamed that there was someone else in the room now. I didn’t.
Read more »
By samantha, on December 4th, 2011
I love this little product. It’s absolutely perfect for a safe slut on the go, which makes it even more perfect as a safe slut stocking stuffer this Holiday season. Tee hee, I said “stuff”.
I’m talking about the Just In Case: Condom Compact, available now at Ohhh Canada for only $12.99. It’s a great way to keep condoms on you and out of wallets or pockets where they can get ruined or forgotten. Plus, it’s a gorgeous regular compact with a full mirror. You can reapply your lipstick in the office without anyone knowing that after everyone leaves you and the mail boy are making plans to lift up the second compartment and have a little fun in the boardroom.
Sigh … I love office sex.
Wait, where was I? Oh right, the Condom Compact. It comes in a bunch of sexy, fashionista colours, petulant pink, rendez-vous red, mystic metal and goddess gold (the gold one looks hawt!) and it’s really light so it’s not going to weigh down your purse.
If you’re a safe slut on the go, or you know one, I highly recommend it!
Buy the Just In Case: Condom Compact now from Ohhh Canada.
By samantha, on December 4th, 2011
 One of the perks to both writing about sex and relationships and being involved in a strong Twitter community here in Toronto is that occasionally, wonderful people like Katrina McKay from www.ohhhcanada.ca will send me products to test and share my thoughts on.
So today, I’m happy to review the Lelo Liv, a wonderful rechargeable vibrator that comes in colours cerise or lime. Sounds sort of like popsicle flavours, doesn’t it …
Read more »
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