Not Your Mothers Playground» Stories

It’s Not You, It’s Me

samantha — Tue, 27 Mar 2012 04:08:31 +0000

If it’s possible that a year can have a theme, this was it for 2011. Last year was all about me giving absolutely every last drop of energy I could to other people, putting myself last. But it didn’t matter. In the end, there was nothing I could do to change the situations that surrounded me. Whether someone was into me too much, needing a break from the world, or suddenly more interested in boys than girls, I was not the hot topic anymore. (Or I was and that was the problem somehow …) Looking back now, I see that in all the times it happened though, it wasn’t me, it was them.

Rejection is a funny thing. Our reaction to it is rarely logical. Having someone tell me that they still wanted me but couldn’t be with me because of something I had no control over made my brain implode. I knew it wasn’t really rejection of me. I knew I was still held in high regard. I knew that it wasn’t me, it was them.

It didn’t matter though. I still felt like I had failed. Like I wasn’t good enough. Or pretty enough. Or thin enough. Or or or or or …

It’s hard to get over our rejection self-absorption to accept that we are not the only person driving the decisions in our relationships with others. We all want our independence when things are going well, but suddenly when they are going south we expect that our lovers, our partners, our friends should do what we want them to because it makes sense to OUR hearts, ignoring what makes sense to theirs. This was my lesson of 2011 and I am holding it close to my chest in 2012.

Anyway. I’m actually getting to a story.

A couple of weeks ago I was about to go absolutely crazy on a crush friend. I will call him, um, Frank. So Frank and I have known each other, not well, for at least 6 years. He’s the only person I’ve crushed on since before we were open which means I hold him in some sort of strange high regard as if he’s from my “before time”. We’d run into each other occasionally and both Steph and I always enjoyed our chats with him. I have always liked Frank for being, in no particular order, good lookin’, funny, super nice and for having the aura of someone with naughty interests.

When we ran into each other last September and drunkenly confessed to finding each other attractive, I didn’t believe it. The sexy text messages that confirmed it read like make believe. I needed to see it in person to truly before.

Somehow, to my own surprise, a couple of months later, we finally had a night out in a local bar. We got drunk and flirted and made out. My brain was all “what the fuck is happening?” because it was too good to be true. Now I’m wondering if it was. Unfortunately that evening, Steph was coming to pick me up and he happened to catch Frank and I making out on the street. Being the amazingly unphased fellow that he is, Steph was fine with it. Frank however, was not. He freaked out and felt terrible. He fell off the radar for weeks and I had to chalk it up to something on his end.

AS MUCH AS I TOLD MYSELF I WAS PROBABLY UGLY OR WEIRD OR SOMETHING.

Then finally we reconnected and started making plans for some sexy time. Then he cancelled because he was too hung over, which irritated me immensely. Then I cancelled because I had period cramps, which irritated me immensely. And then he stood me up because of an emergency, in front of my friends, which embarrassed me, but I forgave once he explained. Somehow, after all of this, I was still interested and finally ended up in his place. On his couch. Next to his face.

It was odd. It’s always strange to sit next to someone who’s sent you a text about how many orgasms they’re going to give you, like it’s regular conversation that we could have verbally. You want to say “So, about those orgasms …”, but then you don’t. Well maybeif you’re me, sometimes you do …

Eventually we made out. It was great. I found it hard to believe that I was kissing this hot guy I’d liked for so long and he was actually into me. Those texts were real!

Then it stopped. He looked at me and said he had to be honest. Every time he kissed me, he was thinking of my husband. Not in a sexual way, of course, but because he felt guilty. He knew he shouldn’t. He knew it was ok, but still there was that nagging feeling that he was doing something wrong. I didn’t know how to respond. I have forgotten what it’s like to not be familiar with non-monogamy. Once I gathered my thoughts and saved myself from freaking out on him, it was almost impossible to stop the “I’m being rejected.” thoughts from flooding in.

I told myself that he was saying the guilty stuff as a way of getting out of making out with me. He realized that I was terrible at it so he invented a believable excuse that I couldn’t argue with. I’m just not pretty enough. I’m too fat. I’m too forward.

Then I mentally slapped myself and realized; it’s not me, it’s him. He was sitting there feeling terrible about the whole thing. Telling me that he was having a panic attack and guilty feelings when he kissed me. Telling me how excited he was to be with me and how much he enjoyed my company and was really into me. And what did I do? I asked him for reassurance that he still wanted to touch my vagina. My self esteem used the situation as an excuse to talk about itself. My self esteem needed to take a chill pill, but it was hard. We sat there, feeling quite awkward for a little bit, until we were able to relax. I gave him a massage because I just wanted to touch the guy and we chatted about other things. Was I disappointed that all my orgasmic dreams weren’t coming true? Absolutely. I’m feeling a little hopeless at the moment that, even with my slow help, he’s just not built for non-monogamy and there won’t be anything I can do to change that, no matter how much we both want it. I’m giving him some space for now because I’ve realized that I can’t push it. If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out and I will be ok.

In contrast to how Samantha from 2011 would have reacted, I am slowly learning that it doesn’t matter how much I want it to happen; even how much HE wants it to happen. He has his own complicated feelings that I cannot change. I have to stop telling myself that I should have worn a different outfit or put my hair in a different style. None of that matters. He’s into me, but non-monogamy is unfamiliar territory.

It’s not me. It’s him. And I am strangely, calmly ok with that. Finally.

Advice: He Cheated. Leave him or threesome?

samantha — Mon, 20 Feb 2012 18:54:36 +0000

It doesn’t happen often but every now and then a random stranger will pour their heart out to me via email. It’s usually either a response to a post I’ve written or an advice request. The email I received from Sarah (name has been changed) yesterday really made me think and want to virtually hug her.

I’m not going to share the email because a) it’s very personal and b) it’s too long, but I am going to give you the gist of it below, plus my response to her. I think that Sarah is an incredibly strong young woman and I hope everything works out for she and her husband.

Here are the main points of her letter to me:

Sarah’s a small town girl living a city life now.
She grew up with traditional family values, a strong belief in monogamy. She doesn’t feel that she has anyone to talk to.
It’s been almost a decade that she and her husband have been together.
In the beginning he expressed interest in an open relationship. Sarah wasn’t into it so the idea was shelved. He went along with this.
A few months ago they hit a rough patch. He admitted that he didn’t think he could be happy as a monogamist but was torn because he loved her so much. They decided to think about it
She found out very recently that he had been sleeping with someone else. Instead of getting mad about it, she (and he) were surprised her being quite supportive of his external desires.
Sarah says she hated herself for keeping him in a monogamous relationship.
Discussions have revolved around the two of them having threesomes with another woman. Perhaps something that could become a regular thing.
It’s been mentioned that the woman that they sleep with could definitely be the woman he was cheating with.
Her husband has admitted to caring about this woman, but not as much as he cares about his wife. He has also said that he would find someone else if this didn’t work.
Sarah has been battling with what she feels is right and what’s she is used to thinking is wrong (open relationships). She is dealing with a bit of an internal struggle.
Sarah and her husband love each other very much and now she just needs some time to figure out how to go about this properly.

My reply:

First, I think it takes true strength of character to be able to handle things the way that you have. You certainly shouldn’t hate yourself for being monogamous when he wanted something else. That’s how you were brought up and it’s what you were exposed to. It was his choice to stay with you, knowing that it was something he wanted deep down. Speaking up was his responsibility. He made the choice to be unfaithful, as a result. You obviously love him very much by reacting as supportively as you did. Some people judge those who keep a cheating partner around harshly, but your reaction was very mature, kind and forgiving. It’s obvious that you love each other very much.

Being open to having a threesome with him is a great plan. It may be exactly the right thing for the two of you to get a huge sexual spark, however I worry about it being with the woman he cheated with. Here’s a few points to consider:

We never know how we’re going to react in a situation where we’re watching our partner with someone else.

Sometimes everything goes really well, other times the slightest motion can bring uncontrollable jealousy to the surface. You might see him look at her in an intimate way that is hard for you. Perhaps their chemistry is so sexy together that you will be left feeling envious and insecure. Knowing that these things *might* happen doesn’t mean you are doomed to have an awkward threesome though; you just need to plan for it.

Take some time alone to think it through. It might be easy or it might be painful but planning ahead can help you figure out your reactions. Imagine the three of you together. How do you feel when he turns from kissing you to kissing her? Do you have limits over what he can and cannot do with her? What if she’s obviously much more into him than she is you? Will that be ok?

Take time to ask yourself these questions and more, depending on what really applies to you. If you have the time, take more than one day to think about it. Think for a few days, a week, a month, or as long as your situation allows you to. The more you think about it, the more you can challenge yourself to be comfortable with something that initially might trigger you. And the more you’ll know the things that you will not budge on.

Once you’ve taken some time to figure it out, share with your partner. Make sure that he knows that you need the thought processing time as it’s happening, as well. He may or may not want to get regular updates from you on how you’re feeling. Share as much or as little as you’re comfortable with. This is a big step you’re taking, and considering his infidelity, he owes you the time to figure it out.

Make sure when talking to him that you set up some boundaries. Everyone in the threesome bed deserves to feel safe and respected should you be uncomfortable as it’s happening. You should know that you have an “out”, that you won’t be resented or made to feel weak should you choose to end things in the middle of it.

It might seem like I’m leaning toward things going horribly for you and that’s certainly not what I’m suggesting. I think that this is a big step for you and you’ve already made some amazing strides to be open, understanding and enthusiastic about this scenario. What concerns me is the option for the third person being the woman he cheated with. Her presence adds a whole extra layer of tough stuff to deal with, but it is totally possible and you could end up having a great time.

This is all so very new to you and you will certainly feel pulled in multiple directions. When you grow up with a monogamous head on your shoulders it is challenging to feel comfortable in non-monogamous situations. Remember that there is no right or wrong to relationship structures. The occasional threesome might be just enough for the two of you to add to your marriage. For others, it could be full partners. As long as you continue to take the time to talk to one another, love and support each other as you have been, I think you will be more than ok.

Wishing you lots of luck and sexy times,

Samantha

Three’s Company; part 2

samantha — Mon, 05 Dec 2011 04:29:12 +0000

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.

As he cooked, we all chatted. She had yet to be put into the head space that I was in, and I felt alright taking the liberty to escape mine a little. For a few moments, we were just normal, knowing that once dinner was over things would get very interesting.When the two of them started to discuss my relationship with him, I couldn’t help but start to feel proud. All of you, curious readers, know about Harvey already. My husband knows, as do my friends. But on his side, no one knows. It’s his choice to not tell his wife but he has said that it’s his burden and he doesn’t want to give it to his friends. So to be in the same room and hear him talk not to me, but about me, was kinda’ thrilling. I recognize that it’s a bit lame, and of course unethical, but it felt good and that’s important here.

After dinner we took her on a tour of the house. It was obviously that transition period between “Ok, we’ve had dinner. Now let’s have sex.”. Walking around, nonchalantly looking at furniture was a good in between. She kissed me in the hallway and then we headed to the den area where I had been earlier shining his boots and caught up in being a good girl.

It’s hard to remember the order of everything, isn’t it? That time when everyone goes from fully clothed to completely or almost completely naked. I can still see how slow paced everything was still. Harvey was in a slight state of can I say, shock? Seeing two women in front of him, ready to do his bidding while being intimate with one another. It was porn come to life, which I suppose for any first time threesomer can be a bit unreal.

I had no idea how it was going to feel, watching him be with someone else. I was slightly worried that I was going to feel jealousy, since our relationship has been so private and intimate for five years, but watching him have his way with her; seeing him so very much enjoying the gift I had brought him, took away any fear of that. I knew that she was a good choice the moment she stopped talking. The fire in her eyes was replaced by a wonderful submissive longing and it was so sexy to be a spectator. Though she’s not a pain slut, he clothespinned her breasts as I helped. I couldn’t help feeling like I wanted him to push her. Put her in intense subspace. Break her.

For the first little while, we were simply abusing her, experimenting with how far she could go. He pushed her up against the ottoman and used his talented hands to make her his. We would pause occasionally, all feeling very relaxed in our den of sin, all naked and stuff. I really relished in the time when she and I were making out in front of him. Sometimes it was softer, more like two women on even ground. Other times I wanted to show him my dominant side with certain women, something we’ve talked about but he has never seen. I would hold her down, control the situation, pull her hair. All while he was watching, approving, taking it all in. Knowing I learned much of my skills from him.

Those moments were nice, when I felt the freedom to do whatever I wanted to. He wasn’t as dominant overall as we had discussed he would be, but his mind was slightly overloaded at the fact that the threesome we’d talked about for years was finally happening, so that’s fair. When he was though, I found it fascinating how I wouldn’t even move without knowing if it was ok with him. I wanted this to be his show. Whatever he needed or wanted, I would do. I’ve never felt so giving before. She didn’t know how to follow his rules though, was brattier and was punished for it.

I was really craving some more submission after a while as our three person hot mess had become less kink than I was hoping for and I needed to be dominated. My initial fantasy was for her to be tied up and told to watch as he abused me, his precious girl, while she was nothing but a slutty worthless visitor who had to wait her turn. Somehow knowing that she got off on being called names appealed to my own fantasies as well. It was obvious in reality that she wasn’t going to be tied up, but I was still begging for that attention. I needed him to hit me. I needed to show someone else how good I can be for him, so he obliged. He lay me on the floor and smacked my face until I cried. She interrupted to ask if I was ok as she was genuinely concerned. I nodded yes, and he told her I was. I knew that I was perfectly safe but I imagine it was hard for her to see. I liked that. I wanted it to be challenging to watch while sexy at the same time. I think we achieved that.

It wasn’t just me that he beat though. He took sometime and smacked her in the face as well despite the fact that she’s not into pain at all, but something made her stay there then. Something made her want to try, to see if she was up to the challenge, and after a few smacks, he broke her. She was crying and it was beautiful. Completely cathartic and wonderful. And really fucking hot.

We were there for hours but I felt and still feel like there was so much more that we could do. So many more fantasies that are still waiting to be fulfilled. I can only hope that it doesn’t take 5 more years to get to them.

Three’s Company; part 1

samantha — Tue, 04 Oct 2011 05:20:00 +0000

I believe pretty strongly that every man and woman deserves to be presented with the opportunity for group sex. It might not be their thing and it’s ok to say no, but with only one life to live on this earth, why do so many spend theirs not working harder on their bucket lists?

I suppose for some, it’s a matter of circumstance. Which is why I’ve been hoping for years to be able to offer Harvey a threesome. People in my life that are nice should have nice things. And what’s nicer than two gals willing to do what you say, all nekkid and stuff?

So I kept it in the back of my mind for years. Relationships with others came and went; Harvey was always around. While our level of interaction has changed over the years, the idea was never shelved. Though I don’t think he really expected it would happen; and who can blame him considering we’ve known each other for 4.5 years already, sans group sex.Then a few months or weeks ago … I don’t really remember … we started to head back down into dom/sub territory. It’s always been an aspect of our relationship; but not always at the forefront of our interactions. There isn’t simply one reason why we have explored it further lately. It’s been the perfect storm of Harvey spending more time understanding his dominant streak and gaining a new understanding for both before and aftercare of someone, combined with me having a shit time emotionally in 2011 and needing some clarity and grounding.

It’s a funny thing, to be completely aware of the fact that you’re giving more and more control to another person and to still let it happen. A few years ago it was probably a bad thing to use myself in a psychological experiment with him. Learning about submission while at the same time experiencing it with a man who hadn’t yet learned the importance of aftercare. There were many times I would go home crying, but not cathartic tears.

Now though, he gets it. And the appeal is so strong. To know, feel AND trust that he knows me; what I like, what I don’t, how far to push me and when to stop and hug … well it’s unreal. I have one wonderful man at home who takes care of me in so many ways and other out there who does in completely different ways. Sometimes it’s frustrating to have gotten so familiar with my submissive side as I realize what an important role she, Samantha, plays in the life of Sam.

But I digress.

This past weekend, Harvey had the house and some time to himself. I realized a couple of months ago that I knew a girl who might be perfect for a one time deal with him. Someone who understood discretion (though I hate that element – more on that later in part 2) and submission. After much personal anguish, the choice became clear, though complicated due to her being connected to friends of mine. While it may make some weirdness for me moving forward, I hope that it doesn’t because everything fit into place, which I had been looking for for so long.

I wanted to make sure that before she joined us that he and I had some time alone. I got over there mid afternoon and, besides some stomach wooziness, felt instant relaxation. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing, there is an undeniable sense of calm in the air when I hang out with him. No drama or passive aggressiveness. If there is aggression, it’s clear and strangely soothing, delivering catharsis, not confusion.

We hung out on the couch for a while. He worked me into a gentle fever with simple denial. Easy actions that removed my control of the situation, just, for lack of a better word, nicely. His tone changed, and he told me I was pretty. He asked his trademark question “Isn’t that lovely?’ and I wasn’t about to deny that it was. I don’t get off on degradation. I get off on making someone proud and doing a good job. When he called me his little girl a couple of times, I felt an overwhelming emotional surge. Feel free to Freud me up and down ’til the cows come home on this one and I’ll be the first to admit that I know I have Daddy issues (and he is often surprisingly very much like how I remember my dad sometimes). So maybe being called someone’s little girl is all inter-connected to my childhood and feelings of inadequacy when suddenly my family structure changed and I got a new step-mum and three step-brothers. Or hey, maybe it’s just relaxing to feel a strong man’s arms around me basically telling me I’m ok and don’t need to worry about anything.

Really, who the fuck cares, as long as my vagina was amused. Which it was, so very much.

After some amusement and a slow burn orgasm (always frustrating, never embarrassing) for me, he let me know I was going to give him a bath. I remember when I first started exploring kink, I read this book “Female Submission: The Journal of Madelaine“. In it, the author talks about bathing her Dom and how it felt so nice to be of service that way and it was always something I wanted to do. There is something so very appealing in taking care of a person in that way. It’s indulgent to indulge him. So I was more than happy to head upstairs and turn on the taps.

It was calming to wash him. How strange, right? But really, it’s kind of like ironing. Hmm, except ironing sucks so maybe that’s a bad example. Let’s say it’s like baking cookies. There’s this feeling of doing something good. Taking care of him and offering him relaxation and, as I said, indulgence. It’s so easy to zone out in that moment. To focus on nothing but the task at hand. Wet. Soap. Rinse. Repeat. Service based submission was almost built for people like me with a million things on the brain at any given moment … Peace. Quiet. One task. One objective.

When he was clean, I dried him. For a moment it didn’t feel like human to human interaction, but more like an art project of some kind. It was important to do a good job, to not miss a spot … to stay within the lines. Moving slowly to not miss a spot. Doing it softly, with affection and care.

When I went into the bedroom to get his clothes, I was thankful that he didn’t follow right behind me because I was slightly taken aback and needed a moment to breathe (Remember that a couple of hours of slow subspace can give tasks like this an extra layer of overwhelming). There on the bed was his outfit, his boots and his bag of tricks. His belt folded, ever so neatly on his shirt. His shirt folded, ever so neatly on his pants. It was obvious that thought went into placing every item so precisely. And whether it was to make me feel special or just show control, make me feel special it did. He came in the room and I basically dressed him. It’s strange, thinking about it now. Almost like I was a mother dressing a child … (I did think to myself while putting his socks on that it was good practice for when I have children) … except as the “mother” I was completely not the one running the show.

Fucking fascinating.

Then we headed back down to the couch area so I could shine his boots. Not before stopping off for a quick spanking (Something I wish there had been more of. Such a relaxing feeling giving into a spanking. I’m sure some would say the same about a hot bath, but I just find that boring and sweaty face making.)

Why the idea of shining his boots appealed to me I’m not sure. I know that I had been looking forward to it for weeks. He could mention it in a task and I would feel my shoulders shrug. My mouth going into that weird little sub pout and my eyes feeling slightly … doe-esque. Such a simple task but the meaning behind it, pretty awesome. Here I am on the floor, making sure to get every little bit of dirt off these boots. Knowing he loves the things so much, I was thrilled to make them look nice for him. Again, the zone out zen feeling of focusing on a task, knowing it’s something that you’re doing for someone, feels absolutely wonderful. Combined with the fact that he was wearing them and lightly flogging me as I lay there shining – when I had anticipated originally that they’d be off in a corner, not attached to his feet, while I did it – it was perfect.

The look of aggression was getting pretty strong in his eyes at this point. Once I was finished he slammed me to the floor and tied my hands. He gagged me (cursing my small head for being too small to really fit the gag) and abused me a little. All par for the course, really. It’s lovely to be abused sometimes. To be a doll for someone else’s amusement. Again, the lack of thought is zen. Why zen translates into a wet vagina is something that scientists can figure out. I am just glad it does and consider myself lucky to have made the connection.

After some abuse, I went into the bathroom to wash the polish off my hands. I came out, realized they weren’t totally dry and went back in to dry them completely. I paused just long enough to realize what had just happened. These, albeit strange to some people, fantasies that I had for so long; the bath, the planning, the boots, they had all just happened. He was of course doing it for himself, but I was certainly being considered. Another emotion wave hit me and before I knew it he was right behind me. His intuition has always been one of his stronger points and over the past little while has been ridiculously on point. At that moment when my subconscious started thinking “Woah, this is intense. You sure you’re handling it ok?”, I was able to collapse into a hug and have him tell me it was ok.

I hadn’t even had a chance to realize I was questioning it before he told me what the answer was.

Next we headed to the kitchen. Our guest was due to arrive in ten minutes.

More on that in the next post. It’s kind of ridiculous how many words this one got to already and I’m sleepy!

Open All The Way

samantha — Fri, 15 Apr 2011 16:55:03 +0000

I am so pleased that Sexie Sadie asked me to help her on her virtual book tour. A few years ago, I discovered Sadie’s blog, Confessions From My Open Marriage, and was instantly intrigued with her stories and honesty. While we have always dealt with our own unique situations, I’ve felt a level of kindred spiritness with Sadie and we have always been cheering each other on through our adventures.

What makes me so happy now is that Sadie has written an e-book sharing her relationship history, good and bad, for all of us to read. The blog takes us so far but the book takes us deeper to a more intimate and personal place that will challenge and inspire your thoughts. I highly recommend that you grab yourself a copy and get lost in her journey!

–> Purchase Sadie’s book here <–

Open All the Way marks Sadie Smythe’s foray into long-range storytelling. Most well known for her outspoken commentary about relationship paradigms and the navigation through her own alternative arrangement with her husband Scott, Sadie is very excited to offer her loyal readers a larger-lensed view into her openly married life. Each chapter of Open All the Way is an individual story in itself. But the combined ensemble compellingly chronicles her journey.

Sadie, in her straightforward style, discusses openly and honestly the numerous pitfalls she and her husband encountered along the way, while intellectually and entertainingly supporting her choices. It’s sexy, smart, and provocative prose; a full, fascinating glimpse into an untraditional relationship.

Happy 10 Year Anniversary!

samantha — Mon, 24 Jan 2011 19:28:46 +0000

Today Steph and I are celebrating ten years of being together. I’d say to start with that our relationship is a testament to non-monogamy being able to be successful just as much as any other relationship with hard work and communication.

Over the past 10 years Steph and I have changed so much. We’ve gone through a lot of shit together. People dying. Jobs being lost. Relationship unhappiness. But we’ve pulled through it, together, because we have an amazing sense of team.

We grow together every day. We support and nourish each others’ individuality. We are home base and a soft place to fall.

To celebrate this 1/3 of my life achievement I’ve selected a bunch of photos from the last 10 years that we’ve been together and am sharing them with you today.

Happy Anniversary, baby!

2010; Mountains and Molehills

samantha — Fri, 31 Dec 2010 18:11:22 +0000

2010, I am not your biggest fan. You made promises at the end of 2009. You said you would come in and sweep away the negative energy that lingered over most of last year. Promised that the constant state of mediocrity that 2009 seemed to be stuck in would be replaced with great things and happy memories.

It’s not that you didn’t deliver but you neglected to mention one key thing: That along with great things you would also come armed with many sad moments and much bullshit. You didn’t mention how many mountains we would all have to climb, finding ourselves constantly in a state of extreme highs and lows.

Full of hope (and booze) at New Years 2009

You started off pretty standard. I was still working my job as event planner / designer / everything girl. My last few months were hella busy as I pulled off my best conference to date. Leading up to me leaving was difficult, but exciting as I prepared myself for a life of book writing and no or next to no income. At the beginning of June when I finally left that job to pursue my dream, it felt like you, 2010, were just beginning for me. I was filled with big plans to finish writing my book, but here I am on the last day of the year still with 50-100 pages left to write. To say that figuring out how to live the life of a author is hard might be a bit of an understatement.

You took me to visit internet friends in Nevada and gave me many new relationships that I treasure but also taught me a valuable lesson about life and people changing. You lifted me up and broke my heart all at once.

I had to quit the gym because I could no longer afford to go and I have done a terrible job at keeping up my level of exercise. I tried, but temperatures feeling like 40 degrees celsius did nothing to get me off my ass and 2011 will not let this happen again, I know that for sure.

In July, my mum came to visit for 16 days. It would be fair to say that before that visit our relationship had always been rocky. We had never spent any long time together with me as an adult and there was much to discuss. It was a very difficult visit to start with, with many emotions coming to the surface and leaving us both quite raw. At the end of the visit though, we were stronger than we ever had been and now I feel our relationship has matured and we are both happy with it.

In the midst of that visit, my friend killed herself and suddenly everything went topsy turvy. I took on the role of informing people, staying strong for her partner and for Steph. After a few weeks of that though, I crashed. Depression hit me like it never has before. My poly relationships were falling apart. I had no idea how to publish my book or to succeed. I had just lost a friend. 2010 was using me as its punching bag for a good couple of months and for the first time in my life, I didn’t think I’d be able to get out of it. I was so close to hitting up my doctor to get a therapist and perhaps some drugs as depression felt like my new normal.

September brought the new challenge of being a teacher which was a nice, new focus to have. In my personal life, however, things were falling apart. My poly family had gone from awesome to what the eff and I was ready to walk away. It was a hard couple of months that I’m glad to have not only gotten past but come out of stronger.

November and December were the nicest months of the year. We went to Mexico and while we almost blew up at our resort, it was great to experience our first real vacation. After coming home, our social calendar blossomed and has taken us to the end of 2010, for the most part, with smiles on our faces.

Not that you didn’t bring smiles throughout the rest of the year, 2010, but you seemed to guarantee that every smile came with a very large challenge or upset. It was like you wanted to drive home the lesson that everything comes for a price and that life had to always had bad to have good. I think it was a lesson in balance that I could have gone without and I’m not grateful for it even if I learned a lot.

You did get a few things right though. You brought tons of new awesome people into my life, many straight from Twitter. You helped me schedule my first successful sexuality workshops, land a conference speaking gig, get some new life coaching clients, and get on television not once, but a couple of times. You brought many laughs, good tastes, good booze and warm embraces. You weren’t as kinky as you could have been but you certainly weren’t lacking in that department.

In short, you left me broken on a few occasions, but your aftercare wasn’t so bad that I was destroyed. In fact, you’ve made me stronger, 2010. Stronger and ready to tackle 2011 which I am already so excited for. 2011 is a year full of unknowns and possibilities. I can feel positivity running through my body even just thinking about the first three months, and the first three months are winter … in Canada … positivity is intense! As well, my sense of self is stronger and all of my relationships are on the right track.

So 2010 I bid you adieu. You’re like the ex lover I don’t want to see again, but who I can’t deny learning from. You beat me up in the worst of ways, but your grip on me is gone and you’ve only a few more hours to fight a battle that we both know you’ve already lost.

This is what I think of you, 2010:

I Didn’t Actually Shoot a Man in Reno

samantha — Tue, 03 Aug 2010 18:12:02 +0000

A bit over a month ago I hopped on a plane to head to a little town called Reno, Nevada to meet and visit with some dear friends I originally met on Twitter.

Hopping on “a” plane isn’t very accurate though as I missed my connecting flight and ending up hopping on three planes and arriving in Reno 10 hours late, which totally bummed me out as I was really looking forward to spending that first day with one of my hosts as he was going to take the day off work and just chill with me.

Stupid airplanes and tornadoes ruining that bonding time. *shakes fist*

Finally after a hellish day of travel (not including the lovely 2 hour drive with @mustangbex who so generously picked me up when I was stranded in Sacramento) it was just the three of us in their apartment and I was so happy to be with them in person after knowing them both so well online for over a year and a half. I realized, when in bed, that I had never been a guest in another couple’s bed (without Steph) as it’s always been people joining us instead. Feeling the energy between two people and being able to both participate while also being a voyeur is something I think a lot of people would probably enjoy. I know I loved it.

I also loved being surrounded by a group of friends that are pretty much like family. The apartment I stayed in is downtown and it seems to be the hub where everyone hangs out, drops by, parties or gets ready to go out. As a result I was very quickly embraced by the closeness of the group, up to date on any drama and somewhat left to my own devices.

One of the things I was most looking forward to on the trip was taking part as a special guest in their biweekly Non-Monogamy Wine Time meetup. Wine Time is a bunch of people (generally friends / acquaintances, including those who have dated one another), getting together to discuss the highs and lows, triumphs and struggles that they had experienced while being open or polyamorous. I’ve wanted to host similar meetings at my house in Toronto for quite some time now, but things have always fallen through as breakups, drama, whatever have gotten in the way.

What made this group so interesting to me is that the majority of them were friends first, (some of them) lovers after. It’s a lot easier for people to party and make out with each other when so many of them are open, or open to being open, and already close friends. Sure there can definitely be drama but having that base is a great way to start and it’s something I definitely am envious of. In our situation, our “regular” friends have always been separate from our poly friends, though we bring them together when hosting parties. Over the years we noticed that we did have a pretty great little network set up as everyone started to meet everyone else, but because we were generally lovers first, friends after – if anything went wrong it was a lot easier to lose that person from our lives vs. keeping them in the friendship circle.

It was hard to come home after being in Reno. I was initially depressed for a few days, wondering what was wrong with my friends, my life, my town, when I had just left such a community environment where everyone would often take part in the same activities, many of them focused around fundraising for their Burning Man camp (something I learned a lot about and might even consider going to next year). Call it standard after vacation blues if you like, but it hit me really hard. It took a while for me to realize that living in Toronto, it’s hard / virtually impossible to have all of my friends interested in the same thing. One quick look through NOW magazine and I remembered that there’s just an absolute shit ton of stuff to do here, every single day. So much so that it’s inevitable that your friends will have different interests, and if you have a large circle like I do it takes a bit more effort to get people together.

Once I conquered that initial woe is me feeling I was reminded of something I thought about a few months ago; the Why Not Project. Taking my financial restraints into account I have vowed to be more open to trying new things with new and / or familiar people. I will accept more proposals and meet more “not friends yet” and continue to build a network of folks in Toronto that surround me with as much happy as I felt while visiting Reno. I will also be more present with my current friends and get out and do more. Since quitting my job in June I’ve realized how much that place had a hold on me. Driving home from work I never wanted to go out and see anyone therefore getting myself stuck in a bit of a slight homebody rut, despite having a seemingly very busy social life.

I am thankful for the friendships I gained while in Reno, despite the 6 flights and 7 airports I had to visit to do so. I wish that I’d had more time with my hosts, and worry that one of those important friendships might be damaged from my visit, but I am also grateful to them and everyone that I met for welcoming me into such a great community. While I can’t imagine ever living in Reno as it’s just too small for my inner city girl, those people were worth the trip and any other trips I make in the future.

Btw, y’all are invited to visit me in Toronto whenever you like. We’re so much more than hockey and the CN tower, eh.

Silly Observations Over Rum

samantha — Mon, 01 Feb 2010 18:45:16 +0000

Since being open, my longest relationship has been with Harvey. We went out last week for dinner and I felt like sharing a snippet of our chat.

He gave me one of those lovely backhanded compliments and said I looked very nice (ok, that part’s good). Nice and put-together. Like I had put effort in. I had to laugh at this and asked him to explain. Apparently I often look eclectic, which when I think about it is probably pretty accurate. The reason I found it so funny though is that a few years ago when so much of our relationship involved new dominant / submissive psychology I would struggle for days about deciding what to wear. I would have to plan a few days of outfits ahead of our “dates” so that I could save whatever special thing I felt like wearing when dinner time would arrive.

And now? I go into the closet in the morning and think … “Sure, this works.” I think about it for maybe 2 minutes.

When I told him about how what he was seeing was the opposite of how I was actually acting, he was surprised and that, in turn, surprised me. As much as you know someone there’s always something more and we are able to put up a front and have someone believe that front for years.

I like that. It’s strangely comforting.

I didn’t like that he didn’t give me a heads up at the beginning of the night that we’d be splitting the bill because he’s curbing his spending. Sure, I’m happy to pay occasionally but when I’m used to being taken out when his salary is a ton more than mine … give a girl some warning before asking her to do some math when she’s drunk!

At least I can enjoy the knowledge that he hates the nickname Harvey, despite it being totally appropriate. This makes the evil in me a little happy.

Over-promise, Under-deliver

samantha — Wed, 07 Oct 2009 04:34:03 +0000

Wait, isn’t that backwards? Sometimes though it seems perfectly normal in my household. Allow me to explain.

This past Monday Steph had a first night with a gal he met on okCupid. He hadn’t been on a first date in, hmm … a really long time; not since he met Betty I think. Anyway, we had kind of forgotten how the whole thing went, so we chatted briefly on the days leading up to him going out. He said that he wouldn’t be out late; as it was a first date, and left me with the impression that we’d play some new Wii Fit Plus together that evening.

Our experience tells us that a successful meet and greet first date, is about 3 – 4 hours. This is pretty standard for us and perhaps many people? However if Steph’s date was to go later I wouldn’t have a problem with it if I was given a heads up. Basically the way we work – and I’m not saying at ALL that this is how I think anyone else should operate – is that we keep each other in the loop when we’re out separately.

If I think that a date might go longer, I check with him first.

“Is it ok if I’m out past such and such a time?”

99% of the time – because he’s the most laid back, easy-going guy ever, Steph is super cool with me leaving my return times open-ended. There have been a few times when I’ve said I would be home at a certain time and I haven’t made it back, and he’s had every reason to be cranky with me. If we say we’re going to do something we really should do it, or at least check in and make sure it’s ok to change plans. It’s common courtesy that your partner deserves.

Look, if she can use the phone with a swim cap on ...

I was perfectly happy knowing that he was out enjoying a first date. I came home a bit late from work and after some shopping settled down to play some video games alone, which is a rare treat. Everything was fine, I was even looking forward to hearing about his date until I turned to the kitchen and saw the clock. It was 10 pm, he’d been out since 6 pm and I hadn’t heard anything. So I sent a text.

I heard nothing back.

I sent another text, and then another. Suddenly the compersion that I was feeling turned to crankiness. I couldn’t care less about how his date was going, all I cared about was that I was out of the loop. I texted Don to calm me down and vent to a boy and while it was a good distraction I was still getting crankier by the minute. When I called Steph and he didn’t answer his phone, I just got extra full of cranky. He knows that his phone sucks and that he should always have it charged when at work, and instead he let it die.

Now let me interrupt myself for a second to point out that I realize I might sound like I’m overreacting. I know I am PMSing so things are a little more annoying right now than they should be on a non PMS day. I also know that it sounds like I’m freaking out over the tiniest of details and don’t let Steph have any fun, but I hope you’ll keep reading to the end to get a better understanding of all of this.

Finally the phone rings and he’s almost home, at the bus station. When he walked in the door I was so seething with rage that I could barely talk to him. After a minute or two of awkward silence I did, and then shit went crazy. I was f’ing and blinding left and right (completely unproductive I might add), and he said some mean things that I daren’t repeat because I know how sorry he is now to have said them.

It was a terrible fight, and an even worse awkward silence after the fact. He wanted me to calm down after he’d apologized but I had to explain to him that just because he’d said he was sorry didn’t mean that everything was hunky dory for me. My heart needed time to heal so there was a bit more awkward silence.

Eventually we started to talk, and the voices weren’t so raised. Steph admitted that often times he’s so worried about doing the right thing that he sets himself up for failure. He’ll over promise that he’ll be home nice and early when he thinks I want him to be, and then his phone will die and he’ll come home late. He won’t excuse himself to find a pay phone and instead will leave me in the dark when he knows that a quick “Hey” would make me feel great and that I’d be excited for him that his date was going well. But he won’t do that, and I’ll be upset, because I take people at their word, and then we’ll fight. He admitted that he worries about making his date feel uncomfortable by getting in touch and will often worry more about them than he will me, and that’s usually where my problems lie. It will seem like I have a problem with him dating, but trust me, that is never the problem. What ends up happening however, is that I associate the dates, and unfairly the people he’s dating, with the bad behaviour on his end. This is something that I need to work on as it’s affected my views on his relationships with other people a lot in the past.

It’s very important to me – and admittedly to him as well – that the people we date understand and respect our relationship. That the things that Steph and I do while out on dates, for each other is not a problem with them. I don’t need to worry about single women that don’t like their date calling his wife to check in. This isn’t a normal dating situation where it’s rude to keep your phone on you. This is part of the package of dating us, in an open marriage. If you don’t like, move on honey! Or brother!

What Steph seems to be starting to understand is that it’s ok to leave things a bit more open ended with me as long as he checks in. He asked me last night if I would be ok with him staying out later, providing he’d let me know, as I would do for him. I said “Well how can we ever know if I’m ok with it if you don’t give me the chance to be? If you’re constantly worried about doing the wrong thing with me, you end up doing the worst things. Go out, have fun and if we haven’t made any other plans and you’ve checked in that all is copacetic? Enjoy yourself as long as you like. ”

And it’s true. I want him to have fun and enjoy himself. I really enjoy feeling compersion and also having time to do my own thing, but I also trust him so much that if he says he’s going to do something or be somewhere I believe him. When that trust is broken all I’m left with is hurt feelings and annoyance and we’ve both agreed to work harder – to address the factors we both contribute – to make other first dates in the future less painful and more about the awesome.

So it may have been slightly PMS fueled on my end, and it may have been “D’oh” male on his, but what makes me happy at the end of it is that we hit rock bottom but then dug our way out so quickly, realized what was the matter, talked it through and ending up having a great rest of the night together.

Sometimes going apeshit pays off! Well, that’s what my PMS affected self is sticking with!