The Affair

Being a sex positive, sexually progressive woman does not mean I am void of morals.  I have had many relationships in my lifetime (some short and sweet, some much more meaningful).  None of them overlapped.  Cheating was just not something that appealed to me at all and If I found myself interested in someone outside of my primary relationship, I would just end it and move on.  When I talk about the affair, I always refer to it as a situation I found myself in.  i promise you, it was in no way planned.

I was about 4 years into a relationship with my son’s father when it began.  We had been struggling since the birth of our son, who was a very high needs newborn.  I think my ex struggled with becoming a father.  Our son was very high needs, and only ever wanted me for the first year and a half of his life.  He already had a temper and a drinking problem, so the stress of this new person shaking up his life was overwhelming and pushed him over the edge.  He tried really hard, I know he did, but he needed (and still needs) help for his mental health issues (I suspect he’s got depression, he fits the profile of someone with narcissistic personality disorder, and he battles with addictions – specifically alcohol, but also gambling).  Unfortunately, not having the tools to cope with life as a new parent meant he became a really hard person to live with.  He was emotionally abusive every day, calling me horrible names all the time, and being just harassing in general.  He was ruining my life.  I sought therapy, and naively thought I could fix things on my own.   Things progressively got worse, to where I would daydream about the day I would go back to work (I was on mat leave at the time), save up enough money for a car and leave him (I eventually did all of these things).  Still, when things weren’t so bad between us I would have hope for a future.  Despite all the bad, he was still my friend and still the father of my son.

I found a new job when my son was a year and a half old.  I was making the most money I had ever made, lost all my baby weight and felt great about myself.  I had hoped my newfound independence would alleviate some stress at home.  Unfortunately, my ex was still on a downward spiral, but now things were worse at home because I didn’t feel trapped anymore.  My tolerance for his bullshit attitude was at an all time low.

On the flip side, everything else in my life was going amazingly well.  I was really good at my job and was managing work/life balance quite well.  I had met a man at work and we became instant best friends (which was kind of funny, considering the 20 year age gap between us).  He was intelligent, successful, and hilarious. He became a mentor to me.

We shared a sexual humour, which turned into what (I told myself) was harmless flirting.  We found lots of ways to spend time together professionally (booking client meetings out of office together alot) to find any way to spend time together.  I found myself fantasizing about him.  He was married with a daughter exactly the same age as me, so I thought I was safe to have this little crush on him.  There was no way it could go anywhere.  He probably thought I was a silly young girl anyway.

Then things changed the day I cried in front of him.  One morning before work, my ex was changing our son and our son was giving him a hard time.  He got frustrated really quickly (typical for him) and somehow wound up throwing a dirty diaper wipe at our sons face.  I was devastated.  He didn’t physically hurt our son in any way, but the act was so degrading.  I felt sick to my stomach.  How did I not see this behaviour in him when I decided to have a child with him?  I hated him in that moment.  I went to work and couldn’t seem to get myself together.  I had been crying so hard all morning and it was still written all over my face when I got to the office.  My mentor saw me and immediately ushered me away to the nearest coffee shop so we could talk privately.  It was the first time I revealed anything about what had been happening with me at home.  I started talking about what had happened that morning, and ended up spilling about everything that had happened over the last few years.  I bawled and he listened.  His eyes were so kind and gentle.  He didn’t pity me or feel sorry for me.  He just hugged me and tried to tell me it would be ok.    We had definitely crossed over from a professional friendship to something more personal, but we hadn’t crossed “the line”.

My little fantasies about him began to become more elaborate.  He was on my mind 24 hours a day.  I remember looking forward to coming home so I could lie down with our son at 7:30 at night and just think about him.  He was so charming and as we got closer he became the most handsome man I knew.  I tried to hide how I felt about him, but it always spilled through.  I’d sit in his office and find myself flirting with him uncontrollably.  I started finding ways to prance around in front of him (like suggesting brainstorm sessions so I could write on his whiteboard, giving him the opportunity to stare at my ass in my tight pencil skirts – and he always obliged).  I couldn’t stop myself.  I was crazy and i was falling in love.

A few weeks later we had a meeting about 45 minutes from the office.  We were supposed to have lunch with a client, but when we arrive the client had to cut the meeting short leaving us to dine alone.  As we walked into the restaurant I remember him holding the door open for me, then resting his hand on the small of my back as we walked through the door.  His warm, gentle hand sent electricity up my spine.  I started to tremble with nerves.  We sat and ordered lunch, and there was a thick sexual tension between us.  As our food arrived he looked up at me and said “what would you do if I kissed you right now”.  I blushed.  I wanted him oh so bad.  I had been fantasizing about him for months, and in this very moment he was finally telling me that he wanted me too. My heart raced and I felt dizzy.  I couldn’t eat.  I could barely breathe.  Alas, I wasn’t ready to cross that line just yet.  Yes, my relationship at home was falling apart – but I was no cheater.  I needed to understand how serious he was and what he wanted from me.  Did he feel the same overall connection I did, or was it purely sexual?  As we drove back to the office, we passed the airport.  I looked out my window at a departing airplane and said “imagine we were on a plane out of here right now?”.  He said “want to?”.  In that moment, I thought he was just being romantic.  I later learn he actually would have flown away with me then, and many times after that.

We began finding reason to communicate outside of work.  Replying to emails with little codes, like “143” (code for “I Love You”) embedded in email signatures.  We found any excuse to contact one another.  We were falling madly in love.

I was struggling with my dual life.  I hated how guilty I felt for what I was doing to my son’s father, but I couldn’t get enough of this man.  I was totally addicted to him.  Still, I knew I had to try to work on my family, and I told him so.  I booked us a trip to Mexico to see if we could re-connect (which my ex and I fought about booking because he was just a difficult guy).  I would try not to text this man on the weekends and I would tell myself I needed to “detox” from him until Monday.  But by every Friday afternoon we were desperately wanting to be together. We didn’t need to say it – it was just such a strong connection I bet strangers could feel it.

 

TBC

 

 

 

Giving it away

I want to touch on the topic of puritanical bullshit attitudes towards women and sex.  Having been born in the 80’s in Canada I grew up with very mixed messaging in regards to sex, and especially female sexuality.  Madonna was the first pop star who’s music and personality resonated with me.  I remember watching and re-enacting her music videos which were very powerful and sexual in tone, as early as 4 years old,.  I thought she was beautiful, and I yearned to understand what it was like to be so desired by men around the world as she was.  She owned her sexuality and wore it with pride, and it really shaped my understanding of sexual empowerment.

Now, my mother was practically still a child when she had me (at the mere age of 15).  I remember the one and only sex talk we had was the day I got my first period, I was 11 – she 26.  She took me to the drugstore to buy pads (I chose the “Incognito” brand because I liked the bright colours on the packaging, for those who remember).  We then went out for a “celebration dinner” and on the walk over she had “The Talk” with me.   She said “you know you can get pregnant now, so you can’t have sex”.  That was it.  that was the whole talk.  In her defense she really had very little understanding of sex herself, pairing that with the experience of being a teenage mother, she was petrified I might make the same mistake she did.  I remember already having a bit of an understanding about pregnancy from the “Changing Me” sexual health program at school, which we began a few years earlier.  I think I just hugged her and said “I know Mom”.  I didn’t want to continue this conversation and more than she did.  We were both off the hook.

The “Changing Me” program was my favourite class (surprise, right).   The content was mostly biology based – hormonal changes, pubic hair, pregnancy, STD’s, and rolling a condom on a wooden penis (probably the best day of my 3 years in Jr. high school).  **side note,  the neigbourhood always wore the evidence when they gave out samples of condoms at the school because you’d find them stretched across car door handles and rolled over fence posts for a 3 block radius for the next two days.  For the 90’s, it was a relatively progressive program, but it was void of any information about human connection, desire, emotions, and relationships.  We were armed with info on “how” but nothing on “why”.  Still, we were at least empowered with some information, which is more than I can say for generations prior to mine.

Conversely, during my brief stint in Catholic school I was taught very little about the biology or physical nature of sex.  Instead, I remember sitting through lecture on how immoral premarital sex was.  How it ruined you as a woman.  I remember the Chaplin drawing two circles and connecting them with a line (the line representing two people being sexually and spiritually connected to one another).  She explained that the only way to ensure a strong, clan relationship was to save yourself for your life partner.  You should only ever have one line extending from your circle.  She then drew another circle, and another, and another, explaining that every time you have sex with someone, you have sex with whoever they’ve had sex with and that this weakens your relationship with each person, and with God.  The page ended up looking like a spider web – I remember piecing together my web in my head, and not feeling shame, but being so annoyed with her for teaching us that sex was dirty an immoral.  For indirectly saying “I” was dirty and immoral.  The cherry on the cake was when she went on to explain chastity and that a woman should never “give away” sex.  As though the act of having sex in itself would deplete you of some non-renewable resource. Like our vaginas only have so much sex to give, and we must save them for one person – the man you one day marry! *cue: side eye*.

Unfortunately, this type of thinking isn’t limited to high school chaplains.  Many men and women, especially from older generations,  subscribe to this way of thinking.  This dangerous mindset 100% perpetuates slut shaming culture and robs us of our right to have, and enjoy sex.   I remember boys in high school pursuing and courting girls, and shaming them for being sexually active in the practically the same breath.  There’s so so so much wrong with this!  Boys weren’t being taught about how to respect women  as equals, and the women were being taught by the boys that there were less valuable if they were sexually active – yet these same boys were the ones encouraging them to be sexually active in the first place.  Confusing isn’t a strong enough word to describe the messageds we receive.

For many years I struggled with sexuality because of slut shaming culture.  I knew what I desired (boys and sex) and actively pursued it, but I remember hiding it from my friends.  Lying about boys I’d hooked up with, and how how I actually enjoyed casual sex.  I sometimes thought there was something wrong with me since I felt like the only girl I knew who actually enjoyed having sex because it felt good, and could totally separate sex and love.

As we approached the Millennium I remember David Duchovny publicly announcing that he was going to rehab for sex addiction.   It was the first time I’d ever heard the term and couldn’t quite grasp what it meant.  What does a sex addiction even look like?  Was he walking around with painful semi’s all the time, yearning for a hit of sweet vagina to take the edge off?  Did he find himself waking up to naked women sleeping and strewn about his room like discarded remnants of a crack pipe?  I was baffled.   And then… I decided I had a sex addiction.  It was the only explanation for my sex crazed behaviour!   So with my self diagnosis, and next to no knowledge of what an addiction actually was I gave myself permission to have as much or as little sex as I wanted.  I was an addict.  I had an excuse.  A disease.   I wasn’t simply “giving it away”.  I was taking care of a very real need.  And now I had every reason to do so.  In a twisted way, it was probably a great thing to happen to me.  I finally began to feel like my vagina was mine and I was unapologetic about the decisions I was going to make for it.  I was free from the mental grip that society had on me – I wasn’t exactly going public with my sex life, but it was mine and I was feeling far less ashamed (for a little while at least).

As years passed I would cycle back and forth between being a sexually free woman with no inhibitions, to feeling ashamed of myself for being a “slut” and “giving it away”.  The problem with me has always been my ability to relate to people in a very empathetic manner.  I am a natural chameleon and I often mirror traits of those around me.  It’s how I connect and bond with others.  This is of course problematic when I’m around people who are quite conservative about sex.  It’s always been its worst when I’ve been dating someone who doesn’t approve of my past.  The actually peaked and was the worst it had ever been several months ago.

I was in a relationship with an emotional abuser for 5 years (the person I share a son with).  I am an open book and am very forward about my sexual past when I’m in a serious relationship with someone (something I have paid for dearly many times).  My ex would constantly berate me and call me a slut or a whore when we would get into any kind of argument.  These fights were never about my past, but he would always manage to find a way to try to hurt me and make me feel like I was unworthy of love and respect because I was a slut.  Around the 4th year we were together, I ended up having an affair on him (the affair will definitely be it’s own blog post one day, you want to read this story).  The man I had an affair with made me feel beautiful and amazing and took all my pain away.  He was also married, and very Christian.  We had the best sex I’ve ever had (which still holds true to this day) and I fell deeply in love with him.  Unfortunately, he was just a different version of the same man I was already with.  He was so judgmental, but so good at manipulation that he made me feel like the reason he hated my past was because he loved me.  He convinced me I should be ashamed of who I was and that I needed to become a different person.  I needed to shed myself of my slutty past.

Our relationship went through ups and downs throughout a tumultuous year and eventually I didn’t even know who I was anymore.  I was trying so hard to be this “Angel” that he wanted me to be.  I was lost and confused because I really wasn’t being myself.  He broke up with me which absolutely destroyed me, then offered to work things out but with a ton of unfair strings attached.  I booked a trip to Cuba with a girlfriend (which I never should have done as I was just not mentally in the right place).  Mr Affair was so upset with me for going on this trip even though we weren’t together.  He kept me on the phone for hours each day, quizzing me about every second of my trip, looking for holes in my story to see if he could tell if I was “cheating” on him there.  I was a mess.  I rebelled, and on the third day I hooked up with a super sexy younger guy (a military sniper, no less!), and while I knew it was the definite end to the relationship I had with Mr. Affair, I actually felt free for the first time in years.  Free from both men in my life who were wearing me down.  I felt sexy, and uninhibited.  I was me again!  This was the turning point that got me back to the girl i am today. Confident and proud, to “give it away”.

 

 

 

**TBD**

 

Reader submitted Q&A

Ask me anything!  Updated as questions arrive.

Q: I’m dating a few guys and they all want too much attention. “When will i see you again? What are you doing tomorrow?” I have to be vague and feel rude being slow to respond, but I don’t want to encourage them! (If they lose interest I don’t really care so i guess that’s saying something…).  What do I do?

A: It sounds like you are definitely unsure there’s chemistry with any of them. You could do lots of things:

a) go on at least one more date (I usually do three if there’s a little something there and I’m unsure – never more than one if I totally know it’s not working).

b) engage all of them in conversation about dating other people so it’s very clear you aren’t moving towards exclusivity.

c) just say there’s no relationship chemistry (I find this the best “out” because it’s in no way a poor reflection of their character, it just tells them you don’t think you guys are a match).

d)…whatever you think is best given their personalities.  Sometimes there’s no right answer and you have to just feel things out.

 

 

Dating gracefully

One stark difference I’ve noticed between my single girlfriends and my single guy-friends is that guys seem to be able to juggle multiple women, or “play the field” (as they totally should!).  My girlfriends tend to date monogamously, and if they do happen to juggle a second or even third date, they feel like they are doing something wrong or being dishonest.  There are no clear cut rules to dating, and just as each of us are unique and individual, so are our interactions with each other.  The following are a few tips I’ve come up with that helped me stay organized and date un-apologetically.

1 – Give them nicknames in your phone that represent something unique about them. If guy one is a painter, you could save him as “coloured palette” and the other guy is an accountant, nickname him “numbers”. I find it helps me remember specifics about who they are and I can tailor my conversations to spark their interests. If I look at a whole bunch of texts from “Matt’s” and “Joe’s” I find I forget what makes each person unique and send text them with dumb boring stuff, or I struggle to remember what makes them interesting.

2-I know it’s easy to get cold feet and cancel a date as it approaches, but as a rule I always go on a first date unless there are actual real red flags that develop as you get to know one another.  You never know who you’re going to meet, and even if it doesn’t turn out to be a romantic connection, you may make a new friend, business connection or just have a laugh with someone who’s going through the same dating stuff you are right now.    Side note – depending on the feel of the date, sometimes I offer to pay (if it’s an upscale date, I know that’s probably not going to fly and will make things weird, but something like drinks on a patio is very casual and I always offer).  If you know you aren’t going interested in another date, PLEASE pay at least half the bill.  No one deserves to feel used just because the chemistry wasn’t there.

3 – They’re likely dipping their toes in the water with other women, so don’t feel like you owe anyone any sort of explanation for dating  other people until you have a conversation about exclusivity.

4 – Try to keep an arms length with all of them until you decide you want to focus on one guy. If you get too texty or involved with a guy, only for the feeling to fizzle really quickly, you might find yourself feeling guilty about leading him on (refer back to step two).

5- The easiest way to let someone down is by being kind and honest.  If the chemistry just isn’t there, say so.  You aren’t doing anyone any favours by sugar coating how you really feel and it leaves the door open for false hope. And do it quickly so everyone can move on.  Avoiding having a conversation because it’s awkward and uncomfortable is unfair and always turns out badly when things finally do end and the other person realizes they’ve been strung along.

6- Remember that quality women are harrrrrrrd to find. You are a total catch. Let them court you. Enjoy this, because we all know it wont last forever!

 

Caught in the O

True Gentleman sent me this the other day.  He’s the first man I’ve ever come across who truly seems to respectfully understand my passion for women’s sexual empowerment.  I thought the link was a perfect fit for this place  ❤

Tastefully done gallery of women at the peak of orgasm

 

True Gentleman (caught by surprise)

I went on a wonderful date last night with a man I’ve known for a few years.  I met him when I was consulting for a company and working with one of his colleagues.  I was in a sales and marketing role, and he was the VP of sales for one of the companies divisions. We had attended a handful of meetings together during that time, but didn’t have much interaction back then.   I was just about to come off my mat leave, and no one knew I was having major issues at home…

When me and my date first met I thought he was very good looking, but I wasn’t sure about his character.  In my experience, people who excel in sales are typically disingenuous by nature.  They become accustomed to skewing the truth and are often “on”.  He was very outgoing, completely likable, and I was totally suspicious.  I thought he was too “sales-y”, ha ha.  We carried on a working relationship for the next few years however we weren’t in contact very often.  When I left that consulting role for my current role I found myself connecting with him again, as our companies partner from time to time for events run by his company.  About a year ago I attended a conference he invited me to (totally unbeknownst to me, because he thought I was cute).  We spoke briefly and I revealed that I was unhappy and heading towards separation at home.  A week after the conference he sent me an email asking me out for coffee.  I declined and said I was busy –  I couldn’t tell him I was totally wrapped up in a messy emotional affair at the time, and the last thing he needed was to be roped into that mess.  Besides, it was such a casual offer.  I didn’t really think he was interested in me.  Maybe he was interested in sleeping with me and never talking to me again, but there’s no way he wanted to actually get to know me.   So why does he keep popping up in my mind randomly every once in a while..?

He invited me to the conference again this year.  I took him up on it, and was really excited to see him.  I knew I’d only chat with him for a few minutes here and there because he’s always busy there schmoozing with clients, but I wanted to see if I could gauge if he was still interested in dating me.  My ex was about to move out and I was almost in a really good place to start dating again.  When I see him there, and we chat for about 15 minutes.  He locks eyes with me a bit more than I would think he would if it were just a professional relationship.  He grabs my hand and it kind of lingers there while we chat.  I’m still suspicious – is he just like this by nature?  Is this how he engages with all women?  He’s very handsome, he knows he can totally get away with it.  We talk about our relationship statuses and I tell him I’ve been separated but cohabiting since last fall.  He says “You and I should totally go out for dinner.  I just love your personality and I think we’d have a great time.  No pressure and no expectations”.  ok – he’s definitely still interested, ha ha.  I told him absolutely, but I just wanted to wait until my ex moved out in a month or two.

While at the conference I met one of the speakers.  His story will be another blog post later, but he’s important here because he managed to find a way to get me to go on a date with him (it was half positioned as a professional meeting because I would have been a great fit to assist with some of the things his company was working on, and it kind of escalated from there..).  Anyway, this guy asked for exclusivity pretty quickly and I thought I’d give it a shot, which obviously meant I couldn’t have my date with the other guy.  This relationship lasted a few months, and when it started to fall apart I decided I needed to make this date happen.

I decided to send him a facebook message that said “I have a really important question.  Beatles, or Rolling Stones?”.  He said Stones (the only right answer) and conversations started.  We connected and I actually started to really like him.  He was different than I expected as I’d always known him professionally.  He was actually very kind and just so refreshing to chat with.  He was a model and sent me some of his professional shots.  A lot of them topless.  I thought it was only fair I sent him a topless photo in return.  Our messages went from fun and chatty to a bit salacious, and back to chatty again.  I started to imagine what it would be like to kiss him (well, as a start…)

We’re both single parents so we had to maneuver around schedules and set a date a few weeks out when we were both free.  He asked me to pick a restaurant (a fancy one!) and I picked a place I’d never been before.  I bought a super hot tight little black dress, and must have tried it on 40 times at home the day before our date.   I paired it with 4 inch wine coloured stilettos and my MK handbag.  My hair was curled into perfect sultry waves and my makeup just a touch heavy, setting the tone for the night.  I felt super hot.

When he arrived I met him down stairs.  I was suddenly so nervous I wasn’t sure if I could walk in my heels because I thought my legs might give out from underneath me.  I took a deep breath and told myself to stop being dumb, he’s probably not even nervous at all.  Silly girl.

As soon as I got to his car (nice ride too, btw) I saw his eyes take me in.  He said “you look amazing!” and all I could do was blush and blurt out “I’m nervous for some reason”.  He thought it was funny – maybe endearing?  I don’t know.  He’s a very touchy guy, but in a sensual way.  Not aggressive, just warm.  He grabbed my hand while we chatted in the car, both of us smiling.  There was so much excitement in the atmosphere of that car I thought I might burst.  He dropped me off at the restaurant so he could go park the car and I was a tiny bit disappointed he wouldn’t see me strut to our table in my super hot outfit, but it was the right thing to do since it had been raining and I was in those heels…  a gentleman he was.

Dinner went great.  I tried gin (his favourite drink) for the first time.  The conversations flowed deliciously.  It was going so well that we both mentioned things we wanted to talk about but never got to because there was just so much to say.  It was so easy to talk to him.  He has had a ton of very impressive experiences in his life, and he had such a positive attitude about his separation considering how much he’d lost to his ex wife.  I loved that he had reason to be bitter but never said a single bad thing about her.  He also lives and breathes for his son.  We had that in common.

He was very complimentary about me personally and professionally (I’ve been working on that myself, and he did it with such finesse – I could totally learn from him). We discussed sex and both agreed that it was too early and shouldn’t happen after the date (an agreement I learn to regret a mere few hours later).  We laughed and just had a ton of fun together.  I was blown away – he was nothing like I had originally expected him to be.

I asked him if he wanted to come back to my place for a drink because I was so not ready for the date to be over at all.  He agreed, and brought in some wine he’d left in the car.  I showed him around my place and he grabbed me and kissed me (oh thank God – I was anticipating that kiss for hours).  We hung out, drank, and fooled around. At one point he asked why I bought a new dress for our date, and I told him that he works hard all week, and deserved a hot date.  He laughed, and looked at me like he thought I was cute.   I so so so regretted to agreeing not to sleep with him that night.  I wanted him so bad!  But, he reminded me why we weren’t doing that.  He did ask me if I’d be interested in going away with him for a weekend, and very cutely said “but we’d be staying in a hotel room together… are you ok with that?”.  I told him yes and that I knew, ha ha.  He left shortly after.  Today, I woke up to this text:

“Good morning beautiful, Have a wonderful day”

 

ughhhh  *swoon*

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yoga Sutras

I met a guy off Okcupid a few weeks ago.  He was the right age (49).  He was a paramedic (very cool career) and seemed to be an overall nice guy.  We talked about our interests, and one of his happened to be yoga.  He said he was reading a book called Yoga Sutras, to which I asked “Is it like Kama Sutra but with downward dog?”.  He thought I was funny, I thought he was intriguing.  We exchanged numbers and after a few texts he asked me if I wanted to meet and we set up a date on Saturday night.  I wasn’t overly engaged with this guy so when he asked what time I was free, I purposely said after 8:00, so dinner wouldn’t be an option.  I wanted to make sure it was framed as a friendly “get to know you” date, as opposed to something romantic.

We went to a pub and had a few beers.  He was very good looking, although he did look a bit older than his pictures.  The interaction was friendly, but right away I felt like I was having a hard time getting him to engage.  He got major points for being able to ask a ton of questions, but when I’d ask him anything he’d give me really short answers that ended with awkward silences.  I figured he was just nervous and would loosen up after a couple of beers.

We had a second round, and he got me talking about music.  I told him I’m into metal and some pretty heavy stuff and that Deftones was my all time favourite band.  He said “Oh, yeah – I love that song “Changed into a fly”.  Right there I knew two things.  1 – he was so not a Deftones fan (he meant the song “Change” which was one of the only songs they did that went mainstream – back in 2000.  and 2. he was lying to me, likely because he thought it would increase the chance that I would see us as a match.  The latter part was more important because it meant he thought telling me what I wanted to hear was more important than telling me the truth.  Big red flag already.   He also kept telling me how yoga was a way of life, and that he could totally “fix” me with some training.  Erm, didn’t realize I was broken, but thanks?

We finished up and he paid the tab, then asked if we could go somewhere else for another beer.  I agreed, thinking it could still turn out to be an ok night, and also – we were in my neighbourhood and it was likely I’d run into people I know in the event I wanted to bail.  As we left the first bar, we had to walk through a crowd of people who had just finished watching a concert.  The sidewalk was super crowded, so my date took this as an opportunity to grab my hand.  I wasn’t totally comfortable with it, but it made sense not to lose him in the crowd so I let it happen.  I didn’t realize that this non verbal permission I just gave him meant I would have to fight his hands off for the rest of the night…

We get to the second bar and lo and behold, a guy I went to high school was there with a group of friends having a cigarette.  We had a quick hello and a hug, and my date and I grabbed a table on the patio.  As soon as we sit down my date grabs my hands.  I keep trying to find ways to “naturally” pull away.. being really expressive and using my hands while I talk, fiddling with things on the table like my drink and the coaster…  but somehow he keeps finding ways to grab them.  Slowly, he just sort of places his hands on mine and suffocates them, ha ha.  Luckily, my friend from high school is totally wasted and super chatty.  He comes over to our table and wants to catch up, and says he didn’t know I was married – to which I replied “actually, this is just a first date!”  My date pulls his hands away – this is perfect!  We talk for a few minutes, and I can feel my date getting a bit annoyed, but being very diplomatic about it.  As soon as my buddy leaves, dates hands come for mine but I grab my beer.  We get on the topic of relationships and I tell him I’m bisexual (which I regret almost immediately, as I see that “look” in his eyes.  The one that says “so that means we’re going to have a threesome!”.  Ya.no.  I tell him I’m not sure I believe in monogamy and I think I’d like to explore an open relationship with someone.  He’s already told me earlier in the night that he’s monogamous, but now he’s suddenly also been interested in an open relationship(!?).  I cringe at his desperation in trying to find a connection with me.  Just be you, dude.  I don’t want to date myself, and the things that make you unique are probably really interesting – stop trying to BE me.  It’s fucking weird.  He also keeps saying “I bet you want a man to control you in bed”.  Like kind of randomly and in different ways he says this a few times over the night.  I just give him raised eyebrows and don’t answer.  My drunk buddy interject a few more times and it’s hilarious and awesome.

Date goes to the bathroom and I run to the bar to pay the tab so we can leave when he gets out.  I’m fine to continue hanging out with him, although I know there wont be a second date.  I just want to make sure he doesn’t have a chance to pay the bill because I want to send the message that this is totally a friendly date.  He comes out as I finish paying and says “that’s really cool of you – you’re an impressive girl”, lol.  He says he’s got to go back to his car – maybe we can grab one more drink and call it a night.  I figure it’s fine to have one more, especially since he’s mentioned he’s going home afterwards (so he’s not thinking he’ll be joining me in my bed later).  He asks if there’s a bar near my place and I direct him to something at the end of my street, a few blocks from where we were.  As we pull up he says “I don’t think I can drink any more or I wont be able to drive”.  Totally fair, and I’m actually ready to go home anyway.  I tell him just to drop me at my house so I can go watch Real Housewives of New Jersey, and call it a night.  He pulls up and asks if we can sit on my porch.  I said no, and he starts arguing with me saying I was ready to go drink at a bar, why not drink here?  ummmmm, didn’t you just say you couldn’t drive if you drink anymore??  Wtf dude, I see right through you.  I go to get out of his car and he aggressively pulls me in for a kiss.  I could feel his stubble rubbing my face raw and I wanted it to be over.  I pulled away and got out and he insisted I come back for another one.  He tried to be weirdly romantic and I walked away.  Locked both my doors and watched him pull away in the dark.  I told him to text me when he got home just so I knew he was fine (I do that with everyone).  I fell asleep on my couch and woke up to this text:

“In the crowd she reached for his hand…it was already there”

I didn’t see it until the morning and I cringed so so so hard when I saw it.  Oh lord, he’s getting poetic now.   I don’t want to continue anything with him so I exchange a friendly “good morning” text with him then don’t engage in anything  else.  8:06 that night I get this:

“The cool dusk takes over as  I listen to Deftones Change”

Stop it.  Just stop, lol.  I don’t reply.

I hear from him a few times and don’t really reply.  The next week he asks if he should stay in contact.  Here’s our text exchange:

Date: “hey, hows your week going?  Are you up for some adult time?”

Me: “Hey! I’ve got a friend coming over and plans Saturday night – I wont be baby free until after the long weekend”

Date: “Ok no prob.  Would you like to get together after that?  Shall we stay in touch Miss?”

Me: “Sure, I didn’t think there was romantic chemistry, but I had fun.”

Date: “The kiss didn’t make your list?”

Me: “ha ha, more to a connection than that”

This is where his attitude totallllly changes…..

Date: “Honestly, I used to be into the heavy rock when I was younger.  I have that edge, however it’s a darker path and attracts the dark.  Drugs, sex and rock and roll baby

I grew out of it, it’s healthier

It was a lot of fun meeting you!”

?????

Me: “Not always  🙂  You just insinuated that I’m unhealthy, lol”

Date: “No, it was unhealthy for me”

Me: “It gives me energy, but I understand what you mean.  It depends how you relate to it”

Date: “As with anything, it’s a door really, that leads to dark places.  It seems exciting until you find yourself in the darkness facing things that are called upon in the music.  Again, personal experience.  I hope your journey stays fun and light”

Me: “Well it’s been over 20 years – so far so good, lol”.

What I really wanted to say was “I’m happy and you’re grumpy.  I think I’m doing just fine.  You’re the problem – not the music” buuuut, I didn’t want to engage in more conversation.  That was the final text so I think it’s safe to say it’s this relationship has come to it’s natural end, ha ha.

 

Edited to add – the next morning I woke up to a message from my friend from high school that I ran into at bar #2.  It said “I didn’t realize you were single.  Since high school I’ve always wanted to ask you out…”

I literally laughed out loud when I read it.  Too cute.

———-

Side note (and maybe a lesson for some)- there’s a massive difference between taking control and being controlling when it comes to sex.  Taking control can be very sexy in a mutually respected environment, especially if both partners exchange power.  It can mean initiating sex, using dominant moves, or even physically overpowering one another in a permissive way.  Being controlling is awful – it’s being pushy, or thinking a woman says no just to be playful, not reading the seriousness in her tone.  There’s no grey area – either there’s consent or there’s not.  If you aren’t 100% sure she’s into, then it’s not consensual.  If you’re misreading her cues and she is into it… she’ll let you know very quickly.

 

 

 

 

 

Finding a date.

Tags

bad date, Dating, love, sites

I had originally planned on expanding my back story to get us to today but I don’t seem to have the time to sit and type (as a single mom, I’m blessed to have as much time as I do).  The very few readers who know this blog exists seem to have an appetite to read about my dating life, especially the fiasco’s/escapades, so I’ll start peppering them in as I get the chance.

When it comes to dating, I have heaps of experience.  I am one of those rare people who actually enjoys making a first impression.  I love planning an outfit, and getting pretty.  I love having a reason to put on perfume and dresses and diamonds.  I love when my date shows up and I can see that he appreciates the effort I put into that evening.  I especially love making a connection and learning about the interesting, new person in front of me.

As for where I’m meeting these guys – I refuse to go to a bar to meet men.  My ex is an alcoholic with a temper and I just don’t think it’s the right environment to meet someone (no judgement to those who do, I’m lucky to live in the biggest city in Canada and have many places to stumble on love).  The best place for me is to go to the dating sites or through work (not directly, although if you flip to my post “The Affair” you’ll get to read all about the huge lesson I learned about dating and falling in love in the office in the office).  Site’s I’ve used:

Match.com  – it was ok, I found most of the prospects a bit boring but probably good if you’re looking for someone who’s interested in getting married or start a family soon.  Everyone seemed to be on the same page there and pretty much all wanted a serious relationship.

SugarDaddie.com – I’m having a blast here.  I haven’t met anyone off the site yet, however my account is still active.  It’s a great fit for me because it’s full of attractive, older established men (which is exactly what I’m into as I don’t think I see myself having any more children).  There are two very distinct types of people on that site.  Some who are looking for a SugarDaddy/SugarbBabe relationship (no strings attached, usually the women are “kept” to varying degrees. Some call it a “professional” relationship).  There are also lots and lots of men who are looking for a real relationship with a pretty girl that they can spoil.  I fall into the second group, although the idea of a NSA with gifts or allowances had piqued my interest from time to time, but I fall in love far too easily and frequently and I know I wouldn’t be able to follow the rules of a SugarBabe.  I put the site on hold for a while but will revive this week.  Stay tuned for updates!

Plentyoffish.com – just don’t even.  This is the worst place on the internet if you’re looking for a meaningful connection.  My experience was that most were there looking for a quick hook up and my inbox was littered with unsolicited dick pics.  I’m doing an entirely separate post on DP’s later, as I feel they truly deserve their own blog post.

OkCupid – this is the best free dating site there is.  It’s a huge mix of personalities and I’ve met some very cool people there.  If you are a girl with a pretty picture, be warned – there are way more men there than women and some can get aggressive because of the limited pool of women to chose from.  I’ve made good use of the “block” function on that site.  That said, it’s still a great free place to find people interested in dating.   My profile is hidden right now, but I’ll reactivate this week.

I’d like to try Elitesingles.com. Once my sugardaddie.com membership expires I might go give that a try.  I think the flavour might be well suited for me, and I’ll be less likely to stumble on men looking for “professional relationships”.

There are also a ton of other dating sites out there that can help you narrow your search if there are certain specifics that are non negotiable to you (culture, race, or religion for starters).  I’ve even heard that there are sites for those with HIV/AIDS or even Herpes to meet, so there truly is a site for everyone.

I’ve had some great experiences, and some real flops.  I always go into a date with an open mind because no one is truly going to connect right away, but sometimes, your gut tells you it’s just not a match and you have to go with it.

 

 

The Back Story

Today, and how we got here.

This blog is meant to be a place for me to document and details the things that happen in my life as a 30-something, single mom navigating the world of modern dating, sex, relationships, money, careers, stuff I love, and all things girlie and girl related.   There are no rules and I don’t want to classify this in one particular category, but if history predicts future (thank you, Dr. Phil) there’s a really good chance most of the content will be about my love life.

My current life: 32 years old, full time working mom, 3 year old son.

It all started when I was around 3 years old.  I remember having my first crush on a boy in my kindergarten class (I a junior, he a senior – little did I know then, my penchant for older men would come back full circle, but that’s another post…).  This boy was beautiful!  He had wavy blonde hair, light blue eyes and dimples for miles.  I remember being physically aroused at the thought of him.  I would pretend he was with me when I was at home, rubbing my stuffed Alf doll against my undeveloped crotch in failed attempts to alleviate the pain I would feel at not being able to have an orgasm.**  I was always interested – maybe even obsessed – with sex.

I never hooked up with that boy – I was far too shy and quiet as a little girl (that changes later, trust me).  The next year he moved onto another class, and I developed a crush on a pair of best friends.  I remember wanting to find reasons to hangout with them but I was still far too awkward, so I would watch them from a distance and hope they noticed me (they never did :().

As I got older, I began finding creative ways to play with the boys.  In grade two they would role play the characters from a cartoon called COPS  which cast several male, and two female characters.   I volunteered, knowing full well I was not rough and tumble enough to really keep up with them, but did it anyway because my thirst for their attention overrode logic.  These boys were the most athletic kids in the school.  They would scale the portables, jump over massive boulders, and seemed to have unlimited energy.  Eventually I got tired of sucking at everything they did, and got demoted to guarding weapons for the “good cops” while they ran off to fight school yard crimes.   Even at that, I was just happy to have a reason for the boys to talk to me.

In grade three I finally landed my first boyfriend.  I was so happy I didn’t even care that he was also my friends boyfriend.  Our relationship lasted a few months and was mostly consisting of confused, rotational hand holding between the three of us, and ended when I was on the monkey bars one day and he seized the opportunity to pull my pants down as a prank (pulling my underwear down with them).  I was mortified – and dumped him on the spot.

It was years before I’d have another boyfriend again.  I was yet to be kissed until 7th grade, where I got asked to the first school dance by a gorgeous guy of mixed descent with the most luscious lips in my entire junior high.  He gave me my first french kiss which was a terribly confusing, yet most exciting experience.  Tongues and lips were thrashing around, he overtook what felt like the entire bottom half of my face, and his tongue was wagging around inside my mouth like a windshield wiper at top speed.  Still, I remember being dizzy and in lust afterwards.  I wanted his mouth all over me.

That relationship faded, but only a few months later I began really experimenting with sex.  I gave my first blow job to a friends brother in their garage.  We had been casually dating and I wanted to know how to do it, so he let me.  He laid back on his dad’s motorcycle while I dryly bobbed my head up and down about 5 times.  No one was enjoying it so I stopped.  We laughed about it and I wondered out loud why anyone would want to do that (I figure it out later on, don’t worry).

The following summer I decided it was time to lose my virginity.  I was obsessed with losing it.  All my girlfriends were about two years older than me, and while only a couple of them had actually had sex, I didn’t want to be the last virgin standing.  I had to do this to secure my spot in the cool older girls group.  I had to do this because it meant I was now a full grown woman.  But mostly I had to do this because I was so damn horny and needed to have another person touch me and get me off (I didn’t learn how to properly masturbate until I bought my first vibrator, at 17).   I didn’t have a boyfriend (despite loads of pathetic, failed attempts during the school year) so I recruited a friend of mine who was 15 (a whole two years older than me – 13 at the time).  We agreed on a time and date.  He made arrangements for us to go to his cousins apartment.  I brought us a 2L bottle of Grower’s Apple Wine and we drank it out of mismatching glasses in the kitchen with his cousin, who was in on our plans for the afternoon ahead.  Before we could start, we were afraid of someone hearing us in the next apartment (oh how naive I was to think I’d have a screaming orgasm the fist time).  My friend, and future virginity taker suggested we put on music (I chose Nirvana’s “Nevermind”).  We went to the bedroom and I laid on the bed, still in my dress, underwear removed.  I don’t even remember if he took his clothes off, or just unzipped his pants.  All I remember was him awkwardly and slowly pumping away at me while my head kept hitting the headboard while listening to “Smell’s Like Teen Spirit”.  The whole thing lasted about 2 minutes.  I ran to the bathroom afterwards to make sure I could find evidence of my popped cherry, and was elated at the slight pink discharge I saw on the toilet paper in front of me.  Level achieved!  My virginity was over with.  Afterwards his cousin pulled out his new bb gun and was playing around pretending to shoot us (just shooting near us).  He accidentally shot me in the collar bone and I still have a scar from it this day.  I guess it was his way of making sure he got in on penetrating something that day too, ha!  I remember leaving and wondering if the whole world knew.  Could strangers tell I was an adult now, doing grown up things like drinking cider wine and having sex? Looking back, I still don’t regret how young I was or that it wasn’t with someone I loved.  My cavalier attitude about sex will be a huge part of this blog (if you can’t tell already).  For years, I wondered if something was wrong with me because I was ok with losing my virginity in a way that most people I knew wouldn’t understand.  I’m way past that now, but slut shaming was a part of my life long long before the term existed, and sadly, long before the feminist movement against it began.

My second sexual encounter was unfortunately quite different. I was raped by a guy I knew from school.  We had just started dating and he asked me to come to his house.  We were making out and he was fingering me, then the next thing I knew he was having sex with me.  He literally swapped his finger with his penis and I had no idea except that things felt really tight and painful all of a sudden. I pulled out from under him and saw his penis, and I realized what had happened.  At the time, I didn’t even know I had been raped.  I thought I must have unknowingly gave him the idea that sex was on the table and he was just confused.  Plus, I went to his house to fool around so I knew it could happen.  Truthfully, sexual education did not cover rape very well back then and while I knew what happened didn’t feel right emotionally, I had no idea it was a crime.  In my mind  it was only rape if a stranger in an alley tore off your clothing and left you a weeping mess for a stranger to stumble upon and save you.  I remember I bled a lot afterwards and was scared.  I told my girlfriends and they told me how disappointed they were in me for having sex with him, and because I was so confused by what had happened, I agreed with them.  It was only a few years ago this memory came flooding back to me and I realized what had actually happened.

Fortunately, I was somehow able to get past the experience and continued lusting after boys.  By this time I had matured in to a pretty, young girl and was able land boyfriends very easily.  I mastered the art of flirting long before my 16th birthday and  I could get boys to pay attention to me with the bat of an eyelash.  I knew how to sit and just ever so slightly lean into a guy and give him my undivided attention, giggle, and “accidentally” brush my hand on him in conversation.  I knew how to get him to notice me from across the room by positioning myself close enough to be noticed while pretending I didn’t notice him noticing me.  I knew how to read them and used it to get them to like me. It felt so powerful and was incredibly intoxicating.  I lusted after them the way they lusted after me.  If I could find a way to get paid for mastering the “thrill of the chase”, I’d be a millionaire.  My girlfriends did not see my talent quite the same way I did.  I got a lot of attention and because flirting was second nature to me, I often attracted guys I wasn’t even hitting on.  Namely, guys my friends had crushes on.  They ganged up on me and bullied me.  This may sound crazy, but I get it now.  Sometimes I was unfairly targeted and called a slut for no reason, but there were times that I would steal boyfriends or flirt with guys and deliberately steal attention from them when I knew my friends had crushes on them.  It was an insecure power play.    We were all equally shitty to each other, and although I took a hiatus from that group for many years, we all reconnected, some apologies have been made and I hold absolutely no grudges.  We’ve all grown up and I love them dearly now.  I am convinced though, that this is why I became a “boy’s girl”.  My best friends were guys, and I always had a boyfriend.  Women made nervous.  Men made me feel safe.  To this day, I still get on with men far better than I do women.  It’s not a problem, just some personal insight.

The relationships we have in our lifetimes, regardless of length or intensity, all form the people we are today.  It shapes the fabric of our character, helps us understand one another and helps us determine they types of people we want in our lives as we emotionally grow.  With this blog, I hope to document my experience with love, sex, and the lessons I’ve learned over my short life so far.  Thanks for reading and joining me on this crazy journey.

 

 

 

**In the rare instance I share this story with anyone I’m almost always probed with questions relating to molestation.  I can assure you, my hyper sexual interest has always been primal, and most certainly was not a result of sexual abuse.  I hate that I have to say that, but now you know so we never have to talk about it again.