Since I’m griping…

So…I griped about not having words lately. This is more of a problem than it may seem.

Lately I’ve been in a place where I want to just pull back. Where I am more comfortable passing out in front of the TV or doing a crossword over expressing myself. I’m not expressing myself here, other places I usually would or even to the people closest to me.

Why? Well…there’s the rub. I don’t know. I’ve chalked it up to needing some time to myself. To not having time. To all manner of things.

The truth I have to admit, is that I’m afraid to. I don’t confront the issues I see before me in any arena because I really have no need to be accused of poisoning waters, being too blunt or messing up a good things anymore. In some places, this is a valid concern. In the ones that should matter to me, it shouldn’t be a concern, but is…and in the ones that do matter I’m insulating myself for no good reason other than I’m worried about the ghosts of the past.

This has led to a realization. For all my talk about being an “open book” I don’t let people in. I can count on one hand the number of people who I can truly be myself with….and there’s only one left. One is my ex-wife, who (for as much as our interactions have improved) I still worry will use the “real me” as ammunition against me. In another case the depths of who I am and my honesty sits behind a mutually created wall in order not to offend due to the reality of my world, the people in my life and because I might just say something too bluntly and/or directly. The last one is still here. Still supportive. Still understanding. While I don’t keep anything from her, I also don’t express as much as I could. Mostly because of my own perception of my limitations and weakness.

This is where I am. Now let’s look in the crystal ball…

The comments to this could be:

– “Suck it up and just say what needs to be said and expressed.”

OK…sure. Easier said than done. That’s the equivalent of “If you don’t like something in your life, change it!” Right! Simplicity would be so wonderful…but it’s not feasible in a lot of situations. You can’t drop feelings like yesterday’s compost. You can’t perform wholesale changes without seeing an inkling of what is on the other side. You can’t tear down the tower of the past when there isn’t any kind of wall to protect you from the barbs and arrows.

– “Say what you need to say and screw the consequences.”

If I am going to be exactly who I am and want to be, then why would there have to be consequences? If I am expressing myself to someone I truly care about, then I can see needing understanding or clarification….but consequences? In a relationship, consequences are akin to blackmail to me. “If you do X then I’m going to do Y, and it will be your fault.” Nope. I’m not putting up with that anymore. If someone needs to be there, then there has to be acceptance…not consequences.

– “I love you, and I’m so sorry you feel this way”

Thank you. I do know that and I love you, too. Patience.

– “If that’s the way you feel, then maybe I shouldn’t be here.”

Maybe…but if anything I have said pegs anyone’s meters to this extent who reads this – it isn’t about your presence. It’s that I don’t trust you with my emotions…and the fact that you would react this way tells me that I shouldn’t.

I’m trying not to become one of those people who will only let everyone in their lives in so far, but never all the way in. I don’t want to be one of those people who I claim not to understand. That’s the easy way out.

Shit all busted…

Apparently my DNS decided to take a crap a while back and my blog has been offline…

(Sound of crickets)

As if anyone was really reading this.

But hey, I’m still kinda here when I have something to say. That’s been rare to non-existent lately. Mostly because I’m still trying to figure things out. Relationships, dating, kids, my own bod. You know…the usual.

Inspiration would be nice. *Hint*

Dirty Old Man

I turned 40 this year. The oft-used line between youth and middle-age. Those around me will tell you that I wasn’t amused by it, but I didn’t even realize myself how it affected the way that I think about approaching someone I find interesting or find attractive.

Before now, I had rules that evolved over time and due to experience about the ages of someone I would date. Most had to do with how young they were. When I was 34, I wouldn’t date someone under 25. Younger than that and there would be a more pronounced generation gap. Plus experience had shown me that, in more cases than not, anyone younger was still trying to figure out who they were. Every year I got older, that age would be adjusted up a little…but the 9-year gap was pretty consistent.

And then this birthday came…

I’ve realized that I’m only approaching women who are my age or older. I may take a risk and say hello to someone who is 37, but that’s pretty rare. The mental wrestling that happens when it’s anyone younger focuses on “they wouldn’t be interested in a 40-something.”

What have I let slip by because I have this “Dirty Old Man” image in my head? Especially since I’ve always said that’s what I’m going to be when I get to the geriatric stage.

Plus, I have found people in their late 20′s and early 30′s who do have their shit together.

Bread and Circuses…

Last night’s post wasn’t meant to be clean and neat. It was what was coming out of my head as I wrote it. This one will be a bit more defined…and the posts will be a little more targeted to specific spots where I see a need for redefinition.

“Bread and Circuses” is a metaphor for a superficial means of appeasement. In the case of politics, the phrase is used to describe the creation of public approval, not through exemplary or excellent public service or public policy, but through the mere satisfaction of the immediate, shallow requirements of a populace.

The title of this post is the classic conundrum about allocation of resources in conflict with the priorities of the populace. In this case, it’s about me needing to figure out what feeds my soul and what is just a fallacious placation of the spirit. Not just in what I am seeking, but also in what I am willing to give others. I’ve been on both sides of the equation. I’ve been the politician and I’ve made myself into the populace for, what I thought, was my own protection.

Disclaimer: Please know that I am not throwing anyone under the bus in this post, nor will names be named. If there is blame to be applied, it is solely to be applied to the man in the mirror…but even then there won’t be any. This isn’t about pointing fingers, it’s about me retracing my own steps to get back on the path that I need to be on for myself.

I started out as the Politician. I found that saying yes to physical contact was an easy appeasement to those who were interested in such. I won’t say that I’m totally averse to conflict, but I am a conflict procrastinator. Even if I saw issues on the horizon or yellow flags that called for clarification, I tended to avoid the disappointment of others by ignoring all of that and driving forward into the realm of the physical. Not only did this complicate matters with that potential relationship, but also with the other relationships in my life. I would come home to raised eyebrows and questions about the courage of my convictions. While I’m not averse to throwing a bit of caution to the wind, after discussing the concerns I had with my significant others, I had no resolution before taking things to that next step. This would only lead to pain, confusion and usually an eventual ugly bout of finger pointing and going separate ways. I tended to point to places outside of myself. To circumstance, the other person, (or worse) my other relationships as being the straw that broke the back of that failed relationship. Internally, I knew that had I just said no at that moment, and waited until there was resolution things would have worked out dramatically different. Instead, failed connection after failed connection became disillusionment and protective walls around myself. That’s when I turned myself into The Populace.

About a year ago, A and I decided to delve into the swinger world. We posted profiles on a couple of sites. We made it clear in our profiles that we weren’t a package deal. We were willing to see people separately and vowed that neither of us would “take one for the team.” We went to a couple of clubs and had a few encounters in a public setting. All of which was timed with a plummeting drop in my Testosterone levels and accompanying drop in my sex drive. I still wanted to be interested in that physical connection, but it wouldn’t come back. Even after I had it diagnosed and started using gel to up my Testosterone levels, it was still gone. Most connections were virtually anonymous. I knew the names when the pants came off, but couldn’t tell you even the first initials when the night was done. All the while telling myself that maybe I could find what I was looking for on the path I was on. I had never been one of those people who could find satisfaction in empty connections and yet that was where I was seeking the very things I felt I was missing. Sex became just work to me. Just a chore to satisfy a physical imperative…even in my relationship with A. It wasn’t something to be looked forward to except in moments when I could find the inspiration to bring myself into the moment rather than looking toward the orgasm at the end. Things became rote and mechanical…and dry. When there was a chance to connect with someone on more than a physical level, I told myself I wanted it, but always stood 10 feet back from the possible relationship. Waiting for some kind of sign that it was OK from myself and from A. Some kind of overt approval from my sub-conscience and from her. The merest question in my mind or from her would send me scurrying back behind my self-imposed wall and back into the realm of the physical. Where things did seem to have potential, I threw out caveats and warnings and still stayed far enough back to allow them to fade into the distance rather than take a chance and risk yet another disappointment for myself, for A or for anyone else.

Looking back on it now (and I don’t have to look far when I say “back”) the things I craved most was that very intimacy that I was avoiding. I wanted that tenderness in both mind and body that had been there with others. I was getting that with A on a daily basis, but at that point I had created such a chasm between intimacy and sex even in my “primary” relationship and didn’t even realize it.

When we went to Colorado, I hesitantly met up with B…and I felt a door crack open that I frankly didn’t expect in the slightest. I realized I wanted that connection on “whatever it was now without the shadow of the past.” That turned out to be a pipe dream for both of us. As we spoke over the next few weeks it we fell into old patterns of who we were as a couple and individually. When she pulled back to rebuild her own sexuality, I reacted in a very angry and passive-agressive way until I managed to pull back from the emotion and see that I needed to do the same.

Then someone completely unexpected came back into my world. She was someone I dated in college who I knew was Bi when I met her. She was bold, blunt, brash and I fell for her the moment I met her. The relationship didn’t last long, but it was intense while it was there and I was crushed when she left to try and rekindle another relationship with her ex-girlfriend. 20 years later, she wanted to reconnect. I won’t state the reasons why she did, but I wasn’t interested at first. Then we started talking and I agreed to meet up with her when she came to town for work….with the caveat that I wasn’t promising anything sexual all the while not ruling it out in my head. When we got together, it was like no time had passed. We still were able to relate to everything that we saw in each other before. We were both nervous when we ended up back at her hotel. I was worried that the night would end up as just another purely physical connection, but it was much more. While there was need on her part, that need wasn’t purely sexual. There was the need for touch, for tenderness and the need to be held at the end of the night. No…she and I aren’t going to be in some kind of cut and dried traditional poly relationship (as traditional as a poly relationship can be). She is a friend that I love, care for and who I would love to connect with physically, emotionally and every other way when time and circumstance permit. But on my end, it totally ripped away the curtain and allowed me to see that I had totally abandoned what was important to me for the sake of ease…which only made things more complicated and insular for me. I had become just like many of the women I had fought with and prodded in the past who had completely cut themselves off from a true connection because of the ghosts of their past and their own doubts and fears.

Now, I have a few solutions to allow me not to placate myself and others with empty acts. One is to know what I’m willing to accept from myself and from others. I have to start with myself. I can’t very well know, accept and/or be present with someone else until I know myself. The second is that it’s OK to say no to someone else, and more importantly to say no to myself. Sometimes saying no is the right thing to do. Maybe for that moment….maybe permanently. Doing otherwise is gratuitously self-destructive. Finally, and while this may sound coarse, I need to follow my own instincts and not those of others I am involved with. Yes, I need to be responsible and I will take their concerns under advisement with the knowledge that anything that happens outside of the relationship has ramifications on the relationship…but feeling like I have to have all of the answers right off the bat is not feasible.

All of the above is still in the realm of “easier said than done,” and I’m sure that there will be moments of weakness, backsliding and doubt. But that being said, just knowing where I was, where I am and what I want is miles travelled. I just have more miles to go…and always will. If it means deeper, richer and more rewarding connections with those that I love, the miles will all be worth it.

Repairing the cracks

Recently, it’s become important that I step back from my sexuality a bit and take a good, hard and long (no Freudian connection intended) look at what my sexuality means and what’s important to me. Some would say that it is because I recently reconnected with someone who is important in my life. When she took a step back from her own sexuality, my reaction was feeling that I was violently rejected. What I realized when I came to my senses is that I need to do the same.

Over the course of the past couple of years, A and I have delved into the Swinging world, and have found some wonderful friends as a result. What we have also found are firewalls, intentional distance and more situational friendships than real ones. Connections are quick, full of expectation, mostly purely sexual and without sensuality, and usually of the “single serving friend” variety.

This lead me to realize that, for most, it’s much easier to be sexually free than sensually free. Opening yourself up physically for some friction between mucus membranes is much easier than opening yourself up emotionally and spiritually. That used to be a “duh” statement in my world as of a few years ago, but somewhere along the line I lost sight of that. Because of disappointment in my relationships and unreasonable expectations from the people that I had an interest in, I created walls around myself that I wasn’t truly aware of until I had a moment of clarity last week.

Another person came back into my life. At first, she was just seeking a “no strings” physical connection when she came to town a few times a year. When she told me that, I said no. No strings don’t work for me. I wanted her friendship first and foremost, and if the chemistry was there then the physcial was a possibility. This is something I had said at least a couple of hundred times before with others, but somewhere along the line I had allowed myself to fall into the mindset that friendship was just a checkbox on a list before getting to the physical. As a result, I would initially connect with someone, sex would happen, and then there would be silence after the fact. With the old flame there was history, we knew each other, and after the (amazing) sex we had, I felt happy, fulfilled and looking forward to more connections with her on all kinds of levels. That was a feeling I hadn’t had with a new connection in a very long time.

I know that she and I won’t be “in a relationship” in the traditional sense for a lot of reasons, but that didn’t stop either of us from opening up to each other. We were aware of each others needs, vulnerabilities and desires before the first touch. Some were spoken, some didn’t need to be. When we were done, I managed to know what she was thinking, which is a major touchstone for a good connection for me. There was trust and some form of love. That’s what I’ve been missing, and where I have let my standards drop.

Then there’s the public aspect of swinging. I very rarely have sex in a public setting, but when I have all shreds of intimacy have been ripped away. I feel like I’m on display for others amusement…and not being an exhibitionist it does nothing for me. It leaves me with solely friction. Nothing I need is left behind for me to cling to. There is one exception. Sex in a pool with others around is something I love. But then the everyone else fades away and it’s just me and who I’m with in that moment…as long as there’s more than a swinger “just for this moment” connection with that person.

I’ve also been in a lot of situations where the relationship is defined before there’s ever a first date. I’m very tired of being seen solely as a destination that merits no journey. Where the outcome is already written out in either person’s mind (because I am guilty of this on my end as well). I work hard not to limit things with labels, yet I have been guilty of doing what others have done to me as well.

Then there are what someone else I know would call projects. While I don’t do the same thing she does, I am willing to be there for someone seeking definition. While that’s the case, I’m not willing for that seeking to exist outside of some kind of relationship and nor am I willing to only focus on one aspect of them. If healing happens organically, fantastic, but I can’t and won’t try and be there for someone who won’t be there for themselves. Please know that I’m not saying that I have all the answers for anyone. Hell…there’s always a bunch of constant question marks for myself.
One of my touchstones is going to have to be “am I willing to drop what I’m doing and be there” for someone (within reason)?

Finally, there’s closure that I need. Not from anyone else, really. There’s probably one or two exceptions to that, but I need closure from the ghosts of my own past. No, I don’t have any major trauma. No, I wasn’t assaulted, raped or molested. But the assumptions I had about myself and others need to be put to bed or in their grave so I can start anew.

I don’t have solutions to anything yet, but I have these places as starting points. That’s something.

Frustration…

After two years of fighting to reclaim my sexuality, I finally have a reason why it’s been a struggle and legitimate path to getting it fixed.

For those that don’t know me, I had Testicular Cancer 15 years ago, and had my right testicle removed as a result. At that time, the doctor assured me that there wouldn’t be any impact to my testosterone levels. My one remaining boy would take up the slack for the missing one.

Apparently the uniball is getting tired.

I’ve been seeing all of the ads for “Low-T”, or low testosterone levels. Lack of a sex drive, lethargy, etc. These are what I’ve been experiencing. So I went in to get my levels checked. Turns out that my testosterone levels are half of what they should be. The answer? Sub-cutaneous testosterone pellets implanted in my hip.

This has been one of the most frustrating things I have ever been though. It’s left me feeling like a detached spectator to who I am and how I express myself to the people I love….and I want it fixed…now! At the same time, I know that this is a milestone in my life. I’ve reached the point where I need assistance to feel normal and to stay healthy. I will have to use artificial means to keep those testosterone levels where they should be for the rest of my life. I’ve never felt my age, but this is a big smack in the face saying, “You’re not getting any younger.”

I will eagerly do what needs to be done, but in doing so, I feel like I am trading normality for what is left of my youth.

We all get what we deserve…

Over the past 5 years, there are a lot of things I have learned and things that started out in one area of my life that grew to be much more substantial concepts in larger areas of my world.

Two of the many things are the concept of the organic and how I view my kink. As with everything else, these things are tied together for me.

If you have been anywhere close to the kink community, you have seen them. At their mildest, they are the people who walk into a playspace and expect those around them to address them as “Master X,” “Lord Y,” or the ever-popular “Sir.” At their worst, they are the ones who get the faintest whiff of a submissive nature and instantly demand obedience with the finesse of a man kicking a dog…and if their lines are not toed, then the phrase “You are not a REAL submissive,” slides from their lips like a greasy turd.

Frankly, what have these (what I refer to as) Insta-Doms done to earn that submission. Sure, they may have with someone else or more than one person in the past, but what have they done to earn that level of respect and the gift of THAT person’s submission other than just demanding it on one level or another.

It goes the other way, too. I remember the first local play party I attended. There was someone there who I had been talking to for a while, and by the end of the evening, I was pulling her head back by the hair and whispering in her ear, “You inspire me!” That was true. Had things developed organically, who knows where it would have led. Instead, she made me her very own Insta-Dom. She started calling me “Sir” in every conversation, and even when I asked her to stop it never did. I’ve been observed far too often practicing my brand of kink only to overhear the heavy whispers of “He’s not a Dom!” like some scarlet letter on my chest.

The fact is, and to the point of the post…I have never claimed to be a Dom, a Master or anything else implying that I expect ownership of anyone. In fact, unless it develops naturally, as my two most successful relationships have, I never will be. I don’t shy away from the title, I just don’t feel the need to brand myself as something that I have not earned…both in someone else’s eyes and mine as well. Even then, I will shy away from a title just as I have everywhere else in my life. I detest the limitations of the concepts of “Primary” and “Secondary” in the Poly world. I want to be more than a Father, Friend and Lover. And in all these cases, I want to earn what I am without needing to put a title to it.

There are other factors as well. There’s the level of intimacy. There has to be absolute mutual trust. There has to be tenderness interwoven with the control.

Can and will I be someone’s Dom? Perhaps, but only when it happens in a way where we both earn, want and need it.