It’s true. Relationships ARE hard … um, yo. It doesn’t matter if you’re dating or married or long-distance, dealing with another person (or people) while trying to live one life together with different personalities can be really, really challenging. Whether you love/fuck other people or remain monogamous, the grass can often appear so much greener on any other side compared to the one you’re on.

But is it really?

Complaining about our relationships is easy. Outside of our jobs, where we live or where we’re from, we are defined by them. When our situation isn’t fulfilling our every desire we bash it. We dis the relationship and the other person or people involved. Hopefully not behind their backs as that never solves anything, but complaining is often our natural instinct. Human nature is to focus on the bad first instead of the good. Think about gossiping with your friends. Most people share the dirt before they get to the “Oh yay, what great news!”

It’s tough when you’re in a long-term relationship to keep that spark alive. Our lives become a business with finances to deal with. Events to schedule. Houses to clean and laundry to wash. There is always something to do and it can be so easy to gravitate to the to-do list instead of romance, a date or even a quick fuck. Or towards someone else with whom you don’t have to do any household business with, besides getting busy.

We tend to forget that those we love are also our lovers. That they feel and dream and want just as we do. And the biggest trap that we can fall into? When we become the same person, ignoring our own and each other’s individuality.

It happened to Steph and I during the first 6 years of our relationship. We had become this amazing marital unit, wanting the same things and doing everything together. On paper it seemed great: each other’s “better half”. I don’t want to be in a relationship with half a person though, and I certainly don’t want to be known as just a half myself. As we opened up and discovered new personal identities, it was very challenging to accept that we had opinions that occasionally differed from each other’s.

Used to loving all the same things, or thinking we did because we had become complacent, we quickly realized that we each dealt with polyamory differently. I wasn’t as easy-going as he was. He wasn’t into the same things that I was. How could this be?? It didn’t make any sense to us at first or quite a long time after we first opened up. If I was feeling unloved, or my feelings hurt he didn’t understand. He wouldn’t feel that way if the roles were reversed, so obviously there was something wrong with me. And when he didn’t have the same slutty urges that I had, well obviously there was something wrong with him.

The shoe would never even fit on the other foot, never mind being good to walk a mile in.

We’d have to talk, and talk and talk. Then when we were done talking, we’d talk some more. This is what I mean by hard work. Talking is exhausting. Communicating your feelings, while listening and hearing someone else’s is tough. There is 100% no getting around that. Personally, I love it. Having a strong connection with someone because we’re able to push through issues and have intense, deep and challenging chats kinda’ gets my brain off. That might not be the case for you, but if you’re in an open relationship you’ve probably got no choice.

Here are some quick tips for relationship communication that can apply to anyone, non-monogamous or not:

• Just because you like the same sushi place doesn’t mean you’re going to react the same way to things. YOU ARE NOT THE SAME PERSON!
• It’s 100% ok for you to feel something that your partner doesn’t. And if your partner feels something and you don’t understand it, you don’t have to. All you need to do is acknowledge them. Let them know you support them feeling whatever it is they’re going through and do your best to help them deal with it.
• On that note, ask how you can help. What might work to fix something for you could be completely different for them. Perhaps they don’t even want to fix it. I know that one might be weird to you fixers out there. Some of us are ok with being broken as long as we know we have a soft place to fall. Be that soft place!
• Do not make the other person feel like an asshole for not being as emotionally strong as you are, or for needing more romance in their life than you do. You have different brain make-up. Don’t blame me, blame science!
• Don’t whine about your needs. Understand that your partner is different and will do better if you explain it from your perspective without blaming them.
• Support each other and try to learn: You might not get it at first, or at second … fuck, you might never get it, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try. Using the “we’re not the same person” explanation is definitely not an excuse to not try to grow with your partner.
• If you say something, mean it. Your lover has every right to take the words from your mouth to be truth. If you don’t mean what you say, faking it will get you nowhere.

And finally for everyone’s sake, do not shut down. Accept the fact that communication is hard and suck it the hell up. I’m not saying you can’t have a successful-ish relationship without talking through your issues, but if they’re issues that really bother you, ignoring them or giving up isn’t going to make them go away. If you’ve convinced yourself that it doesn’t matter, then hey, more power to you (I guess?), but if you truly do want to fix them, then talking is kind of the only real way to do so. Once you get over that fact you might start to enjoy it.

Who knows? Maybe the conversations you have will make you both strive harder to find a solution or a common ground that works for all. A little bit of hard work can go one helluva long way and the rewards can be huge. A couple of years of intense chats later and Steph and I rarely need to have them anymore!

Which is good ‘cos really … relationships are hard, yo!

It has been a busy week and a half for Steph and I. On Sunday, May 30th we did an extra bit of filming for the documentary on modern marriage that we’re going to be in, I believe airing on CBC’s Doc Zone (next year sometime?), and last night we were interviewed for local sex show, Sex Matters.

When the documentary crew showed up on Sunday – as we’ve already done our interview with them – they wanted to film us making food to get some filler bits. Talk about the most surreal 20 minutes of our lives, making dinner together in our terrible layout of a kitchen, an activity we rarely do because there’s just not enough room and it drives me batty! There we were though, making a pasta dish and talking amongst ourselves with three people, a massive camera and a light surrounding us. It was like improv, regular conversation. I was very conscious of everything I was saying, while trying to act perfectly normal at the same time. As we were cooking Steph made a random joke. and nobody laughed. It was a fantastic joke and the room remained quiet. How. Very. Strange.

Then last night, Cynthia Loyst from Sex Matters and her cameraman Jeff came over to ask Steph and I questions about our relationship – its history and how we really feel about fucking other people. Strangely, more nerve wracking than the questions were the extra bits where they filmed us making drinks in the kitchen and playing with the kitty – a real cat, you pervs – on the couch. It was a great experience and, while Steph probably won’t watch it, I can’t wait to check it out when its aired on the show. (Though I will cringe at my flabby bits and weird voice.)

A few years ago I never thought things like this would be possible. When I was interviewed for the National Post in October 2008 and consequently heard Jian Gomeshi saying my name on CBC’s Radio Q afterward, it was all very surreal. Watching my blog posts spike on that day blew my mind! I couldn’t believe that people were interested in hearing or reading about me!

Sure I grew up thinking about being ‘famous’. At that time I wanted to be a singer. It was the 90′s and Sarah McLachlan, Holly McNarland and Jann Arden were my inspirations. I even visited a recording studio when I was 16 to see what I needed to do. The staff there were very gracious at indulging my fantasies. Which is funny now as it seems you have to be 16 to get a record deal. Singing obviously didn’t pan out, possibly because I didn’t try though. Always a crucial step … actually doing the thing you want to do!

Now, at age 30, I have aspirations of a published book and hopefully speaking engagements; but this has nothing to do with fame or fortune. It just feels like the right thing to do. I don’t know if I’ll fail or succeed at this point; of course I want to succeed – it’s why I quit my job to pursue this goal of mine, but more importantly I want to help other people find their voice. The most rewarding thing for me during this entire process of blogging the past few years has been the comments and emails I’ve received from you. You’ve told me how I’ve said what you’ve always been thinking and helped you put it into words. Or how you live in a small town and felt like an outsider for choosing this lifestyle when everyone else is married by 21, pregnant by 22.

I’m writing this book and this blog for you; because when we first opened up, a mere 3.5 years ago, so much of the literature out there was hippy dippy flowers and bunnies. Non-monogamy was thriving on the internet, but in very fringe groups. Nowadays I can be on Twitter with complete traditionalists, discussing polyamory and it’s all pretty normal. I’ll admit it, I’m very lucky. I’ve only lost a couple of friends due to my lifestyle, our families just laugh at us but don’t mind and I’m married to a pretty amazingly laid back guy who’s been ok with me doing a lot of shit the past few years.

Being on camera is certainly nerve-wracking. I’m much better at writing than I am talking as conversations don’t come with editing time – none that I have control over anyway. My introduction to BDSM a few years back with Harvey certainly helped me to become more confident though, so I don’t mind a few nervous moments like I used to. And talking about our relationship on camera always makes Steph and I feel pretty damn smart. We come out of it slightly amazed at ourselves for talking about such a complicated lifestyle with an ease and grace that we forget we have. We’re so used to talking to each other about it that it’s a bit strange to discover we can talk to others too. And while he’s always hesitant about the camera – I am too, after they leave when I suddenly think “Holy shit, THAT just happened!” – his confidence booms when he realizes that hey, despite some break-ups and fuck-ups, we’re pretty good at this open relationship thing. Goooo team!

The self-preserver in you might be wondering “How can you just talk about your sex life? Shouldn’t that be sacred and intimate and private?”. To some, sure it is, but does it really matter to me if people know I masturbate? Does it matter that people know I sometimes crave being with women? Or that I can get off on being told what to do, and sometimes slapped and choked?

*Not one bit. Most of us have sex with someone else or at least ourselves. We think dirty thoughts about other people or objects or situations. We’ve sexted, or had phone sex, or even sent a racy picture to someone. Everyone’s level of naughty is different; and for some theirs never sees the light of day as they are forced – or choose – to suppress it, but we all have it. If I can talk about a topic that many people get embarrassed to discuss, I’m happy to help break down that societal taboo.

Mainly though, when I’m asked what does embarrass me … it’s seeing my weird crooked smile or fat ass on camera. Can’t the lens take away 40 lbs?? Does it really have to add 10??

Sabotage, I say!

—————————————————————-——
*I will admit; when friends or family bring up something they’ve read on my blog, I blush. It’s weird, I know but I only have control of what I put out there, not of who reads it. I like that I can still be embarrassed a little!

Want to contribute to the book? Visit this form and learn more about how you can share your stories!

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kTQJ2QiK4QU]

Play the above while reading. Just for fun.

Whether it’s wanting to grow up and be an astronaut, dreaming of how to spend your lottery winnings, or imagining yourself in bondage ropes, suspended from the ceiling watching helplessly as your girlfriend fucks your best friend … we all fantasize about something. Or a lot of things.

Having fantasies is a normal part of life. They can be a place to visit where we cannot go in reality. Sometimes fantasies can be thoughts that if we given the chance in reality to pursue, we never would, and other times they are based on ideas we have done in the past, or cannot wait to do in the future.

Over the years of knowing myself, almost 30 to be precise, I have realized things about the way I fantasize. I am a daydreaming, sentimental, romantic, horny, lame ass sap. These things, when combined with the option of having multiple partners can be pretty messy in normal life and require a little extra effort to contain, but in the fantasy world, I am so ridiculously grounded in reality that sometimes I bore even myself.

I remember my first active daydream / fantasy. It consisted of me going to a male friends’ house, sort of in the middle of nowhere. The guy wasn’t anyone in particular. (ie: I think this was when I was starting to dream about having a boyfriend which I never thought possible when I was a young, fat, dorky teen.) To convince myself that it was plausible that I would end up staying over at his place, there had to be a massive snowstorm. Think “Baby it’s cold outside.”, for inspiration, just less old man pervy. As I grew older I used to pretend I was completely drunk and couldn’t go anywhere, but for the sake of sounding less alcoholic, let’s stick with a snowstorm.

My friend, the gracious imaginary man that he was, offered me his bed. So, wearing just my undies and one of his big button shirts – don’t women always look so sexy like that? – I tried to sleep there while he slept on his couch. At some point in the early hours of the morning, I would awake to find him sneaking into the bedroom to grab an extra pillow and blanket because he was cold and uncomfortable in the living room. His linen closet was in the bedroom you see, because things like that make sense in fantasies.

I would wake up and tell him to just come and sleep in his bed with me. We were just friends and I wouldn’t stand for him sleeping on the cold couch. He’d fight it, I’d say that if he didn’t join me I’d sleep on the floor beside him and then he’d feel like a real asshole.

And so he’d climb into bed with me, and we’d say a sweet good night. And throughout the night I’d maybe touch his feet and accidentally snuggle with him.

Then that’s it! We’d get in bed, and the fantasy would end. I would never dream about the foreplay, the touch, the sex, the orgasms. Instead I would dream about the set-up, the story, the personalities involved. Then I’d end my daydream and go to sleep.

Before I met Steph I had a very close friend who I had a massive crush on. The first night that he stayed at my house, after a night of drinking, my fantasy pretty much came true. Except the difference being that he was flirting with me all night, and then convinced ME to sleep in my bed with him. Years of thinking about it, and what happened?

Nothing.

I didn’t know what to do with the actual reality in front of me. I had spent so much time perfecting the fantasy that the real life I had waited for didn’t stand a chance. We continued to share a bed and almost date after a few months, but never as we should have and then he left my life.

You’d think I would have learned my lesson but every fantasy, every daydream from then on was the same. If something didn’t make sense logically when I’d lie there and close my eyes, it wouldn’t happen in my dreamworld. When I fantasize about lovers, current and past. I think of the situations that I sometimes wish existed. I imagine a world, albeit momentarily, with a totally different set up and just when I’m about to fall into that fantasy my brain says “Hey, what about Steph? What about your job? What about the family? How could you fantasize about being in this house or their house when other people live there?”

And when I can’t come up with an answer, I’m back at square one. I have an incredibly vivid imagination and yet I cannot even find a mental closet to store my husband in for a little while!

When I talk to Steph about his fantasies, they’re mainly all about sex. A lot of guys, and girls that I know are the same. They picture the act from start to finish and I picture the set up leading up to the act. While my friends in high school were mentally fucking Brad Pitt, I was randomly running into him at a bar and making sure the story made sense before anyone mentally undressed anyone.

It’s not that sex and things I want to try aren’t on the brain all the time. I’m one of the most perverted people I know but I put things on to-do lists instead of in fantasies because if my vagina is going to think about it, you can be damn sure I’m going to try my hardest to make it happen. I use memories or visual aids – fancy term for porn – to aid in sexual fantasies if I’m masturbating or just thinking dirty, but inventing things to do when naked just isn’t my strong suit. Maybe because I really just enjoy being with someone so much that I’m often not fussed and will gladly do feels right or what they tell me when we’re fucking.

However, leading up to that? If you don’t make sense in my little logic daydream or memory bank, you ain’t getting close to that stage.

Sorry Brad. I’ve tried a million times and you and I will never work.

(Wentworth Miller, you can ignore everything I just wrote and just come home with me. We shared a moment in that dream I had once a few years ago where you kissed me and I probably should’ve mentioned that anything that happens in “sleeping dreamworld” vetoes all of the above.)

Addendum: Though I wouldn’t categorize them as fantasies, but maybe they are kind of the same thing, my dumb logic brain does allow me to have wishes. I have wishes about those I love that I know cannot come true. But see wishes inevitably make me a little sad so I don’t like to count them.

I have a personal rule that I try to follow as much as possible. I don’t like to blog when I’m angry or emotional. I know I’ve done it in the past, but I highly prefer not because then I hit you folks with emotional diarrhea and I embarrass myself on the off chance that I come back and read over what I’ve posted.

But … today sucked. And I can’t hide the fact that it sucked, and I’m having trouble saying any words out loud. I’ve barely said anything all day but I firmly believe that I still have a quota of sentences that I have to release so typing is how they’re coming out today.

It’s Friday the 13th and the day started off pretty dumb, but then just got progressively worse. I’m feeling really lost and dumb as a post at work lately, making fuck ups left and right and not grasping concepts with work I’ve never done, but still … I should be able to grasp. I know it’s a means to an end, but I’m letting it effect me substantially and it’s hella’ depressing. That alone was enough to ruin my day until I started thinking about something that’s come up recently.

Steph and I both went on lovely first dates the other night with girls from okCupid. (More on my lovely date later.) When I got home, we didn’t really talk about it. For some reason I’ve always been defensive immediately and haven’t wanted to hear anything about his dates – something I’ve been trying to figure out for a long time. He also doesn’t tell me much, thinking that I’m going to have a problem – more on this in my next post. Anyway, so after I get over that, we talk and I hear more about her. She lives up the road – which immediately I find to be a combo deal. That’s half really great, easy, convenient; I’m envious yeah, but whatevs. And then the other half is that it’s too close. Too easy to visit, too easy to spend way too much with her – if things were to get that far, of course. I’m lucky because Steph realized that half before I did and expressed similar anxiety which made me feel much better.

Eventually we ended up having a relationship conversation. One that was definitely very overdue and started very innocently. While telling me about the date, with adorable, cute enthusiasm – which I absolutely cannot knock because I’m so proud of him for becoming so comfortable with meeting people when he used to dread it – he said that it was cool that we could learn about the neighborhood from someone who lives in it.

This is where my feelings changed. We’ve lived in the neighborhood for five years. There’s quite a few places we have visited and quite a lot more that we haven’t. It’s easy to fall into a rut when you’re living anywhere. You stick to the same places based on your schedule, your preferences, whatever. But something I know very well is how much Steph has always been pretty negative about new things. Trust me, the man has gotten SO much better, but he is always the first one to “put the brakes” on something new whereas I’m often up for anything.

So why did it irk me when he said what he said? Well I suddenly realized one of the reasons I’ve often been uncomfortable with him dating other people. Keep in mind that this is a few years worth of buildup and I’ve only just articulated it. So many times I’ve suggested doing something fun, something that he and I can share as an experience together. Whether it’s try a new restaurant up the road, or a night out, we’re supposed to be partners and best friends – makes sense to do fun things together. Citing cost and practicality he’ll often reject the idea, not realizing that by doing so I feel he’s rejecting me. Of course he’s allowed to not want to do the same things as I am, he’s his own person sure. If it’s something like going to the grocery store – something we have to do – of course he’ll go, but anything “fun” that we haven’t done before (or sometimes things we have done) he’ll say no to, and not always because he’s opposed to it, just because he’s basically being lazy. So when he tells me excitedly that we can learn about the neighborhood from this new chick, I suddenly realized how I’ve felt rejected for years.

I get cost and practicality. Dates get enthusiasm and agreeance.

She gets it!

The “shiny and new” syndrome doesn’t just affect going out in relationships. It can affect how we relate, how your sex life at home is vs. your sex with other people. It’s easy to do new things with new people. There’s less expectations and less history to base judgments off of. It’s also easier to try something new that you’ve wanted to for a while because someone else is there to motivate you. What’s happened to us is that over the years I’ve stopped trying as much. I’ve adapted my idea of fun to fit my situation. I’ve gotten very good at convincing myself that certain things are in my past and that’s why we don’t do them when the truth might be that Steph just says no so much that I’ve given up.

The problem I face now is suddenly my heart is filling with resentment. That’s totally my emotion and I own it, but that doesn’t currently make it any easier to deal with. I feel like I’ve been cheated out of fun for years. Or that I’m somehow not worth having fun with and it’s left me feeling very insecure about it on top of a lot of other insecurities I’m feeling lately. I’m angry and sad all at once. I totally hate the idea of Steph meeting someone new but NOT because I’m opposed to him dating, but because I’ve suddenly realized all of these feelings related to something I’ve been missing out on. In addition, I think it has trickled over into our sex life. I feel like I haven’t been fucked by anything besides something I was controlling for weeks. Granted I was busy at work, got the flu, and then had a period accompanied by gross migraines, but I think the practicality has seeped into there as well.

One of the reasons why I seem to be “on” all the time when in the company of the Drapers is that I’m not around them as much as I am Steph. The opportunities to let loose and enjoy naked times over there are few and far between so even if I’m not initially feeling it, I allow myself to be constantly open to fucking so as to not let an opportunity pass. But why doesn’t that happen at home? It’s so easy at home to make excuses for not having sex, or not trying the new restaurant.

We can always do it tomorrow.

But the problem with that mentality is that there’s always another tomorrow and things get pushed and pushed and pushed. It happens to both monogamous and non-monogamous couples. The catch with non-monogamous couples is that we get to try the new things with other people, which can be a great thing – but sometimes not so much.

Like right now, I just want to feel like my husband wants to do fun things with ME. Not necessarily in place of someone else, but just as well. Go out and have fun on your dates, but then have fun with me too! It’s not such a big demand. Trust me, I can be a laugh riot, but I’ve lost my confidence with him in the bedroom and in the neighborhood. Practicality has gotten in the way so much that I don’t want to suggest anything anymore – though I still do because I’ll never really lose my enthusiasm. Honestly though, often I’d rather find someone else to go out with because it’s more likely they’ll say yes to my crazy or not so crazy schemes.

But if I do that, then we continue to both lose. I need to keep trying. I need to find things we can share together and not give up so soon. And he’s admitted that lately stress has caused him to take me for granted. He hasn’t let me in and I’ve felt it. The other day I came home with some life changing news – that I’ll share with you when I can – and he asked nothing of it. I felt embarrassed to bring it up because it seemed obvious that he wasn’t interested.

And that’s dumb of both of us. We recognize that we need to get better at this. Doesn’t that sound like a strange thing to say?

“We need to get better at having fun together.”

Whatever. There it is.

Wheeeeeeeeee!

*Addendum: We DO have a lot of fun doing a lot of stuff. Don’t get me wrong. There’s just a lot of new and different stuff that I’d like to try as well.