My Sex Education

My sister and I were brought up up almost entirely by my Mom, until we were pre-teens. My Mom was a lovely affectionate woman, but she was so perfect that neither of us felt that we could talk to her about things that bothered us.

Sex did not exist in our household. We sometimes wondered how we came to be!

My Dad was a career Naval Officer, he was a vet who had enlisted at 16, and was rarely home, even in peacetime. He left the Navy after 25 years service, and my parents promptly discovered that they couldn’t live together. My sister and I were sent off to a private (all-girl) Boarding school, and my Dad shipped out to a contract overseas.

I had been a real Daddy’s girl, and was devastated by what I felt was his abandonment. I had grown up without brothers, but I identified strongly with my Dad and had been a tomboy, so most of my friends were boys. My Dad had told me that there wasn’t anything a boy could do that I couldn’t, except pee standing up, and I even tried to do that!

Our Boarding School was quite religious and was very rigid, sex-ed class was very clinical, just about Biology, nothing about sexuality. We were not allowed out alone, and our only visitors were our parents. The only boys we saw were at church, or at choir practice, so when I started to think about boys, I felt as though it was a “bad’ thing to do. Any good feelings I had from boys, when I could get near any of the choir boys, were repressed.

My sister, who was 2 years older, did not have boy-friends. I thought it was weird to like boys, only the sluts at school were into boys. As I grew up in this atmosphere, boys became a totally unknown quantity. I forgot how easy it had been before around my Dad, and became shy and somewhat afraid of them.

After six years in this stifling atmosphere I graduated at 17, and went back to live with my mother and sister. I went to College, and also worked part-time for my Mom. She was the manager and book-keeper of a private club, and I went to work as the DJ. Because I was underage I couldn’t drink, or interact with anyone so I just spun the records and I started to re-discover my ease with the opposite sex.

At the club, as a really naive 17 year old, I was at first unaware of the waiters flirting with me, until one called me a “Baby” and dared me to go to a movie with him. He was about 24, and quite cute (he was Spanish, with beautiful brown eyes and a shy smile, and just the right kind of charm). I picked up the challenge, and met him on a day off. He was waiting for me with a long-stemmed red rose, I was smitten.

The date went great until he asked me back to his place, which was a one-room apartment. The only place to sit was on the bed, and after a couple of glasses of “Orange juice” (spiked with vodka)I was dizzy, and curious, and we were making out. Without going into detail, let’s just say that the inevitable happened, and I ended up a pregnant teenager.

Lack of knowledge, lack of street-smarts, call it whatever you like. I call it lack of preparedness for the real world, caused me great emotional and physical harm. I was almost schizoid about it, planning to go to Canada, and throw myself on my Dad’s mercy. I couldn’t tell Mom, I thought she would disown me! Outwardly nothing changed, I continued to go to College as though nothing was going on.

One Friday afternoon in class, I started to miscarry. My friend Gina told me that I was going very pale then flushing, and looked like I was going to pass out. At 12 weeks, I went into a type of labor and miscarried, alone, in a toilet.

I travelled home on the underground, wearing a ton of pads, and, after making excuses to my family, had a long hot bath and went to bed. I didn’t go to a doctor, I didn’t even know that I should. I was so ashamed of myself that I told no-one. The next day, being a strong healthy 17 year old I went out with Gina, and vowed to forget all about it.

I grew up too fast after that. I became one of the “bad” girls, got on the pill, and for a few years became the kind of girl my old self abhorred.

When my sister became pregnant., I was 21, and moved out. I could not stand to be around as my Mom became the perfect understanding grandmother-to-be, and took care of my sister.

When I eventually did tell her, my mother was horrified that I had not told her at the time, and that I had never had proper medical care. She told me she would have taken care of me, after she had dragged the Spanish waiter off to the cops! She had often wondered why he kept asking her about me.

I was lucky, I had no lasting physical damage and though I had the kind of problems that most girls with absent fathers have, attracted to older men, and continuing to have relationship problems through my 20’s. I did marry in my 30’s and had two wonderful children, who know all about me, and have always been able to ask me ANYTHING!

One thing I discovered was that it is rarely “bad” girls who land up with unintentional pregnancies, they are far too savvy for that. It is the innocent and naive who become victims of sexual predators. Knowledge is armor, without it young girls are essentially defenseless.

If you plan on becoming a parent please remember that it is your duty to equip your children for life, knowledge about sex and sexuality is as essential for survival, as a good education, good food, and a warm safe home.

Breaking Up Without Breaking Down

Breaking up is the worst. Adjusting to life after you’ve ended a relationship you’ve emotionally, sexually, and financially invested in, is effing terrible, even if you’re the one who broke things off. Trust me, I break up a lot, and it never gets any easier. And while I can’t promise that I always follow my own advice to a tee every time a relationship goes belly-up, I can tell you that this simple roadmap will make adjusting to newly single life a lot less difficult.

Set Boundaries for Contact

Breakups can flatten you emotionally, but you’re going to have to keep it together enough to handle the practical parts of separating. Even if you and your ex-sweetie didn’t combine finances or cohabitate, chances are you’ll need to coordinate the return of a few personal items, fill out some paperwork, or negotiate who gets custody of the Netflix and HBO Go passwords. Be very clear about your needs in terms of scheduling, and be honest with yourself about whether or not you can handle seeing your ex face to face. Text messages and email are great ways to communicate effectively while still preserving some privacy if that’s what you need. If you’re dealing with big stuff like mortgages or vehicles, be sure to have a lawyer handle that. For the little things, see if a friend can help out by picking up those books you left at his apartment or dropping off that spare key you’re holding onto.

Go Easy on Mutual Friends

Speaking of friends, don’t be a jerk to the ones who know both of you! While “friendship custody” can definitely be a thing, don’t pressure your friends to cut ties with your former partner. If they want to talk about the breakup or what she’s up to now and you’re not in the mood, gently remind them that you’re hurting and that you’d prefer to steer clear of those topics. Do your best not to take out any residual anger, jealousy, or grief you have for your partner out on your pals, and be sure to check in before you launch into an unscheduled vent session. If you find that some friends are keeping their distance from you while staying buddy-buddy with your ex, respect their choice, but find a way to let them know if you’re feeling hurt by the loss of their friendship. In most cases, clearing up this awkwardness will get that relationship back on solid ground.

Indulge in Self-Care

Processing the end of a romance on top of your everyday obligations is tough. Schedule time out from your job, family obligations, and social life to pamper yourself. That can mean different things for different people–athletes might schedule in extra time at the gym or prepping for a half-marathon, foodies might take a day to tour a local farm and cook a gourmet meal, and fashionistas might start the day at the spa and finish up with a shopping spree. Also be sure to pamper yourself daily, taking time to reflect in your own way by meditating, journaling, or calling a friend to take emotional inventory and keep yourself in balance

How about Making Yourself Online Datable

Online dating is part of the modern single person’s landscape. Everyone’s doing it, and most of us are doing it wrong!

There are certainly good things about dating on OKCupid, Match.com and Tinder- if you’re new to an area, if you want to meet people out of your regular social circle, or if, in the case of eharmony.com, you want to meet divorced Christian dads in the suburbs- but these formats have their own particular do’s and dont’s.

Here’s a list of common mistakes the online bachelor can avoid (to not kill chances of a possible date):

  • A Woman in Headshot- When I see a dude on a dating site with his arm around a pretty lady, I don’t think “Hey, she’s really pretty, I’d better step up my game”, I think “well, if he hadn’t pissed her off, he wouldn’t be floating around like a loser online still”, which is where, you may point out, I am also floating.
  • A Blurred or Cropped Out Woman in Headshot – Hey, I feel for you guys. Unlike women, who celebrate every dinner, haircut, and outfit with a photo session, guys only get pictures taken when they’re on a date with someone or when they are on a bass boat. Please try and get a decent selfie, or ask a friend “Hey bro, can you do me a favor? I need a picture of myself.”
  • Abs Pictures- Sure, he stopped eating bread and he does five thousand crunches a day, but when’s the last time he read something longer than the list of ingredients on a protein shake? A tendency to post pictures of one’s torso sometimes speaks to a desire to show it to many people.
  • Generic First Message. There are real studies saying it doesn’t matter what your first message is, and the best method is to scattershoot HEY HOW ARE YOU to a hundred women a week, but I have personally never responded to a HEY HOW ARE YOU message, and can’t imagine I would do so unless it was sent by Johnny Depp.
  • LONG Opening Message, mentioning EVERY interest and hobby I have and their thoughts about it. This starts to feel stalkery. Wait, how did you know I’m eating a bagel? Are you watching me right now?
  • Talking Solely About My Appearance: it doesn’t seem like there’s a desire to find out about my personality, right?
  • Pen Pals- Once we’ve established contact, and written a couple messages back and forth, ask me out. I’m here for men pals, not pen pals! Also, if you live five hundred miles away, don’t message me- this is not a sexy chat service and I’m not coming to visit you in Pig’s Snout, Arkansas. Ever. Unless you are Edward Scissorhands or Captain Jack Sparrow. Then, anything is possible.

Lingerie Rules for Sexual Success

In theory, I love sexy underwear. I own the requisite number of suspender belts (two), a multitude of thongs, have previously bought crotchless pants (although God knows where they are now), and, occasionally, I even wear these items.  And we all know how sexy underwear is supposed to work: you wear it, he is blown away with lust and gratitude, and you both have the best sex ever.

Except, of course, in real life, things are rarely so simple.

My lingerie heyday was undoubtedly during my student years. Back then, my 20-year-old boyfriend was delightfully responsive to any effort on my part in the underwear department. The merest whiff of stockings and suspenders and he was a shoo-in. My current 30-something man, however, is much less predictable.

Think of it like this: in the world of lighting, your 20-something male is a bog-standard lamp – he has a switch, you flick it, you turn him on. But by the time a man hits his 30s, he has matured into a more complex system altogether, a kind of finely-tuned motion sensor light. On a good day, this means you get to kick back and enjoy his advanced technology. On a bad day, it leaves you standing in the middle of the room, waving your arms around wildly, and wondering how the hell you turn the damn thing on.
Sexy Young Woman Wearing White Bride Underwear

The problem is, when we put on sexy underwear at the start of a night, we are making a firm commitment to both us and them wanting to have sex at the end of it. It’s a down payment on mutual lust; in my experience, couples often buckle under this kind of pressure. And even if our man does want to have sex, he might be totally unfussed by our undies. As my housemate – a relatively sensitive guy – put it: ‘By the time you’re down to that layer, your main concern is getting beyond it; it’s just an extra shiny barrier.’ Such a lack of enthusiasm on their part can easily lead to disappointment on ours.

These pitfalls are only exacerbated by the financial cost of decent lingerie. My boyfriend would probably enjoy an Agent Provocateur basque more if it didn’t represent a 50% reduction in our monthly savings. These days, nothing gives him a hard on quite like the thought of making it onto the property ladder. Conversely, nothing is likely to kill his passion quite like the thought of our future home disappearing in a cloud of lace and tassles. If I splash out on lingerie, then, we’re both going to want to see a pretty high return.

So you can see why my relationship with sexy underwear is not as simple as it once was. But this doesn’t mean I’m ready to quit the game altogether. No, instead I have developed three simple rules to help me (and people like me) enjoy a healthy relationship with my undies.

Rule #1 – No Surprises

One girlfriend of mine has sexy lingerie nailed. Firstly, she does not give a damn about the cost. Secondly, she is in awe of all female beauty, including her own (she sends me links to high-end corsets asking which I think would make her look the most adorable). Thirdly, (and this is key), she involves her boyfriend in deciding when the lingerie should be worn. Last Christmas, she bought ‘him’ a stunning corset. After its first outing, he wanted to know what would happen next, i.e. would she wear it all the time or only occasionally? Was it a one-off thing?

She explained to him, ‘This corset is your Christmas present. And now it can be Christmas anytime you want to it to be. All you have to do is say “Can we have Christmas today, please?” And I’ll make it happen.’

You see, the girl’s a genius.  Because it is the ‘tada’ aspect of sexy lingerie that so often backfires. I ran this theory by my boyfriend, and he agreed: ‘If we don’t know it’s coming, you can’t blame us if we don’t rise to the challenge. At least give us a hint!’

Rule # 2 – Know your Man

In the case of my man, this means sexy lingerie is best aired by day. When we were ‘courting’, our nights out usually culminated in wild, drunken sex. Now, they are more likely to end in wild, drunken promises to do it first thing in the morning.  My bloke peaks in the day; I must use this to my advantage.

Sexy lingerie woman

Rule #3 – Know your Budget

Sexy underwear can be fun and experimental, but invest too much and the stakes are raised. With this in mind, I recently did some browsing on ebay (‘refine’ – ‘condition’ – ‘new with tags’), and managed to get some rather nice Victoria Secret undies at a 75% discount. They arrived today and, I’m pleased to say, they make my bottom look lovely. My only concern is that the lacing running down my bum crack rather draws the attention to the wrong hole (a hole that is, by long-standing agreement, out of play).  Still, at that price it’s hard to complain. And, as the saying goes, never say never…

Tomorrow morning, my boyfriend and I have a rare shared lie in. I intend to get up, spruce up, put on my sexy budget knickers and one of his shirts (I have it on good authority that this is a winning combination). Then, I’ll come back to bed and wake him up with a hot brew and my own delicious self. He has been duly warned that this is coming. So, this time, he’d better wake up and smell the coffee.

Top 5 Tips for Giving A Great BJ

Everyone has special skills, things we take considerable pride in doing exceptionally well.  Maybe you make the perfect margarita, or can parallel park perfectly on the first try every time.  Not me, those particular examples are personal weaknesses of mine.  I used to add too much tequila, and scrape my hubcaps against the curb nine times out of ten.  I’ve gotten better though, by taking the advice of friends who excel at these things, and practicing until I achieve a functioning level of confidence and comfort with both tasks.  I’m proud of my progress, and so appreciative of the help given to me along the way, that I figured it’s time to pay it forward by sharing a little of my own knowledge.  My area of expertise?  Oral sex.  Fellatio, to be specific.  If head quality was currency, I would be rich as hell, the Steve Jobs of blowjobs.  I really suck (much to the delight of my partners), and I want you to, too.  But from the feedback I’ve gotten, it seems as though a lot of you are shy and scared of doing it wrong, or badly.  So here’s a few basic tips I’ve compiled to help you swallow your hangups and go down like a champ.

1. Don’t Worry, Be Happy

First and foremost, understand that unless you bite (without it being specifically requested), you’re doing fine.  Push aside any nervous or self-conscious worries.  Now, I don’t personally know most of your partners, but I absolutely guarantee that if they were given the option of getting a imperfect blowjob or getting no blowjob at all, the choice made will always be to get some sort of blowjob, and really, any sort of blowjob.  You don’t need pro tactics to rock this party, because the mere act of placing your mouth on your partner’s genitals is, by nature, loving and incredibly intimate.  Head is a hug that you give with your mouth.  We all know the difference in getting sincerely embraced by someone who loves us, and the ol’ forced grab-squeeze-release of someone who’d rather not be bothered.  Try to focus on the pleasure you’re giving, not whatever hangups might be lurking (however, if your partner’s hygiene is the hangup, perhaps suggest a little bit of bathtime-for-two fun).  If the act itself turns you so far off that the affection motivating it isn’t conveyed, it won’t be fun for anyone involved.

Sexy woman with young lover closeup indoor portrait desire

 

2. Eye Contact

The right amount is essential.  A few short glances is hot, but an extended, unblinking gaze is creepy (sex is not a staring contest, unless that’s a specific fetish you’re exploring).  The right kind is also important.  This is the only time in my entire life that I will ever endorse the wisdom of Tyra Banks when I tell you to SMIZE.  Smile with your eyes as you look up.  Make eye contact, smile with your mouth (as best you can with something in it, doesn’t have to be your big birthday party/just got a raise at work/spiteful selfie smile), then get back to the task at hand.  By doing this, you’re sending a sweet message of “Hey Captain, I’m handling things below deck, so take a load off, stand on the bow and just enjoy the view!”.

Six Signs You Are Ready For A Keeper

Yep. You read that title right. There are tons of articles about how to know if the object of your affection is a keeper. But I’m going to go out on a limb and say that whether they are or not is immaterial if you are not ready to reciprocate keeper status. It is difficult to know if you are ready for a keeper. As always, I can only speak from my personal experience, but here are a few things that had to shift significantly before I was ready to keep and be ‘kept’.

1. You Are Looking For Your Equal.

One of the great romantic myths is that your significant other completes you in some way, that one plus one equals a happy whole. That implies that you are each half people stumbling around in the dark waiting for your life to begin once you find that missing puzzle piece. But I’d rather see it as finding someone who compliments you – two complete humans who together form an awesome team.

Here’s another way of looking at it: Why would you want to be with someone with whom the balance is uneven? Why ‘settle’ for someone – it will only lead to resentment. Or, why put yourself in a position of deference, constantly trying to prove your worth to someone? Ultimately, mutual respect will breed relationship longevity. Not as sexy as co-dependency, sure, but absolutely vital if you want something substantial.

2. You Are Able To See Things As They Are.

Forget X-Ray vision – the ability to see things as they are is the true super power! It is one that I have occasionally and one that makes life easier in general. When you can see things as they are (i.e. not how you would like them to be, nor a catastrophized version), then you know what you are working with and have the power to decide whether this person is right for you. An added bonus that comes from being a seer of The Truth Of Things is that you kinda have to give up the idea of changing someone. The ability to accept someone unconditionally is another step on the way to keeper status because you get to practice one half of that romantic ideal – unconditional love.

3. You Would Rather Be Single Than In A Not So Great Relationship

So now that you’ve gained that elusive aforementioned super power and you realize that you can’t change anyone and that the choice is always yours, it becomes pointless to continue pursuing something that is not right for you. Standing on your own takes courage. It can be lonely being single. But in my experience it is so much lonelier being in a relationship that isn’t working. Ultimately, I think it comes down to this – if you are holding on to someone that isn’t making your heart sing, then there is no room for anyone else.  Clear the space and do the work. Which brings me to…

When Casual Sex Becomes Less… Casual

Sex is emotional. It’s an emotional activity that us humans enjoy participating in and for me it’s hella emotional. I personally wish occasionally that I could turn off my emotion faucet. It would save me a lot of trouble and a lot of regret filled text messages and a lot of crying in the bathroom at work situations. It seems that without me even trying, I often, with the help of oxytocin, hormones, and having apes as my ancestors, become attached to the naked person beside me, and that is never not complicated. Attachment and complication are basically synonyms.

See, we’re animals and being an animal includes sometimes not choosing who our heart wants to hook up with for a long while and that sucks. It sucks the big one, and not in a good way. ‘Cause not choosing who we want to hook up with for a long while can result in feelings being hurt/torn apart/shattered into a million pieces that cannot be put back together even if you block everyone on instagram. You sleep with another person in hopes that the previous person will be lobotomized but your stupid, idiot brain won’t delete the memories of them. In fact, your brain keeps rerunning those blissful moments like they’re a goddamn episode of Seinfeld.

And you’re like “Hey, brain, can you find something else to focus your energy on for a bit?” and your brain is like “Sure! How about I focus it on your taxes and remember that time he told you that your skin was soft? Let’s think about that for three hours”. This attachment is only made more complicated when you have agreed with the naked person that there would not be any form of attachment. That your hooking up would remain at a hooking up level and Christmases would not be spent at each other’s houses ever. Yet, regardless of that iron clad agreement, your stupid, idiot brain is all “Check out this image of you rubbing his head in your bed on your birthday! WASN’T THAT FUN/ ISN’T THIS CRUEL?”

And you can always sense this unwanted attachments arrival. Suddenly, you’re waiting for them to text you every single day. Suddenly, you’re willing to lose a ton of sleep just to have a conversation with them about dinosaurs. Suddenly, you get upset thinking about how holding their hand in public will continue to be an unfulfilled desire. Suddenly, when they mention seeing other naked people, it stings. It didn’t for two months, but now, you can’t bear hearing about it. You’re attached and you don’t want to be, but there is no going back at this point. You’ve shared too many childhood experiences. You’ve romantically spooned for too many hours. You’ve gotten late morning cheap brunch together too many times.

I didn’t comprehend this idea of unwanted attachment until recently when I began doing the casual thing for the first time. Before two years ago, I didn’t know what “casual” was or why it existed or how it smelled. I was in three long-term relationships back to back and even if I thought my first intercoursing with each boyfriend could possibly only be one night of awkward passion, the oral sex always seemed to lead to them meeting my mother a few weeks later. My process of coitus was: ask out a man/be asked out, go on said date with man who asked/was asked, fornicate with above mentioned man, and repeat for two years straight.

This resulted in me only having three copulation partners at 26-years-old, thus I was curious. I was curious about boinking random strangers I met at dive bars and/or friends of mine who I had a consistent flirt-on with and/or anyone on my “crushing hard on these peens” list. I was curious about fearing that I was impregnated by a generic dude named Mike who I couldn’t communicate with because he only checked Facebook once a year. I was curious about getting tested at the doctor and wondering “BUT WHAT IF??!?!” I was curious about the stand of the one night.

It all sounded daring and delicious and dangerous. So, after my last BF and I decided to call it mutual quits, I promised myself to remain single for at least 6 months, which turned into 12 months which turned into 24 months. And while I was pursuing singledom, I wanted to make sure I banged as many butts as I could and boy did I ever! I banged them butts like banging butts was going out of style and the world was about to end by butt explosion and my butt banging coupons were going to expire any day now.

There have been fun times. There have been not-fun times. There have been fun then not-fun then fun again then definitely not-fun at all times. I am happy that I did it and proud of myself that I delved into the scary world of non-committed horizontal tangoing. But, it has come with its problems, the major one being unwanted attachment. My attached to naked persons was guaranteed wanted before two years ago. I didn’t worry about saying “I like you” or having a texting limit or PDAs. I mean, the oral sex led to them meeting my mother every single time.

But, suddenly, I was late for work ‘cause I was up until 4 am conversing about dinosaurs with a body that was not my boyfriend’s. They weren’t necessarily my friend but they weren’t more than my friend either. They were just… a guy I slept with regularly. I haven’t wanted “more” with a bunch of guys I have slept with. In fact, I’ve wanted less. I’ve wanted the sleeping with them to not exist in history. But, then, with others, I’ve desired for them to hold my hand. I’ve hoped that they weren’t seeing other naked people, or at the very least, they didn’t enjoy seeing them naked as much as they enjoyed seeing me naked. I’ve hoped that I could eat turkey with their family at Christmas.

I’ve often wondered, “What does one do in such a situation? Do they end it? Do they continue on and pretend as if they’re totally cool with it? Do they ask for something deeper?” And I still don’t have an answer. Two years later. It seems that timing is a big factor in the “more” decision. Two people can both be attached but those attachments are unwanted due to circumstances out of their control. Or the circumstances are in their control but they, like me 24 months ago, made a promise to themselves and they want to keep it. Or their attachment to another naked person is greater than their attachment to you.

Whatever the reason, it stings. It never doesn’t sting and the stinging does not go, disappear quickly or easily.

What I have learned is that sex is hella emotional and I can’t change that. I can’t turn off my emotion faucet. If I hook up with someone and my heart chooses them, so be it. If I want them to hold my hand or text me dinosaur images in the middle of the night or meet my mom that’s okay. I don’t have to pretend that I’m totally cool with it being casual. I’m not ashamed of becoming attached. I’m actually starting to wish it happened more often. ‘Cause I’m realizing how special that attachment is, especially when it’s wanted by everyone.

 

When a Gentleman’s Love Language is Giving

When the love of my life and I decided to get engaged, we went on an extensive search for the perfect wedding ring. What my bride to be didn’t know was that I wanted to learn what shapes, colors and designs she liked best so I could design “the perfect ring” myself.

Sometimes, she would put on a ring and take it off immediately other times she would say, “…that’s kind of nice” and then finally, at what seemed an eternity, she said, “Wow.”. That’s when we stopped looking and I started designing a ring that incorporated all of the things that she liked in individual pieces.

When the design was completed, it required 32 Marquis cut diamonds. Try as I might to find perfect stones, I could not get 32 that matched in size, color and clarity. A bit of research found a diamond cutter in Brussels and off I went to have him cut 32 Marquis diamonds in the exact size, color and clarity that I wanted. Then, I found a wonderful jeweler, outside San Francisco, who my gut told me was the right person to build this ring. The ring itself is an open design with white gold and yellow gold interwoven and diamonds all the way around. After a wax was prepared, it was shipped to me for approval. Shipped because I live in Atlanta. We tweaked the ring just a bit and I saw a final casting before the ring was completed; when it was, it was simply spectacular.

Perhaps you can see, I have been called a hopeless romantic (more than once) who enjoys giving gifts. That is how I express my love.

Of course, the entire design, acquisition and building of this ring was unknown to my bride-to-be. When it was finished, over a romantic dinner, I showed it to her for the first time. Much to my chagrin, she looked at it and said, “It’s a beautiful ring but when would I wear it? I am a ceramic artist whose hands are in clay all day.”

To her our earlier search was simply a fun exercise while to me it was much more serious. My beloved had told me long ago that she didn’t really like diamonds. I took it upon myself to show her something beautiful in anticipation that she would change her mind. While I heard her words, I did not listen. That was several years ago. To this day, that ring sits in a safe and sadly we did not marry.

Not to be dissuaded, the one thing my fiancée complained about the most was the studio in which she worked. It was a warehouse with no heat or air conditioning and no windows. During the four months out of the year where one can be perfectly comfortable with windows and doors wide open in Atlanta, she would work feverishly while the rest of the year she either was much too hot or far too cold.

This time, when I suggested that I build her the studio of her dreams, I listened carefully as she told me what would make that studio ideal. I then added a few touches of my own, like floor to ceiling windows, a 20 foot cathedral ceiling, and, of course, heat and air-conditioning.

Each day for a month, I would be so excited to show her the progress. This was a 1,500 sq.ft.studio and I was the general contractor and assisted in the construction. Again to my dismay, my beloved showed no interest in the process.

When the studio was completed, she stepped inside and said, “…this is beautiful. Thank you.”   With that, I then moved all of her equipment from the warehouse into the new studio where she quickly unpacked everything and organized the space.

She received my gift and my passion in the love language of giving.

Written by Barry

 

A Practical Guide To Threesomes: And Lady Makes Three… 

The Menage a Trois: It’s said to be every man’s fantasy, and maybe it’s yours, too- but it can be intimidating.  Of course, there are many flavors of threesomes- I’m going to address the M-F-F scenario here, but there are some good tips for everyone.

Full disclosure: (Ooh! Sounds Sexy)

I’ve been both women in the threesome scenario.  I’ve been in the couple that invites another woman in, (the host), and I’ve been the visiting woman, the guest.

For many years I wondered what the motivation for the guest could be.   As a host, I’m having a sexy adventure with my partner that we can enjoy reliving together again and again, and she’s likely just having a one-night stand with us when she could be out having sex with single people.  Later, I had my first experience as a guest and found that the advantage of being the visitor is that you’re the dang superstar!  Being the guest is giving everyone that electric first kiss, helping a couple you’re attracted to have good sex, and hopefully having some yourself!

I know that there are sometimes three-ways where nobody is a couple, but that sounds like chaos, just two girls climbing over each other, hissing, trying to establish dominance.  I have no tips for that one but hide your wallet and use condoms.

 Good advice for the host:

  1. Despite what happens in porn, don’t invite your close friend, or someone you see all the time to join you in the bedroom. That can make relationships awkward.  Do you really want your fella to know what having sex with your bestie is like?  The internet gives opportunities to meet all sorts of people!  Take advantage of it!  In the 1950’s, you would have had to take a personal out in a swinger’s magazine distributed exclusively in truck stops to find a willing third.  Now, you can put an app on your phone and screen partners over lunch!
  2. Concentrate on finding a woman you feel curious about- odds are good your honey will agree.
  3. Don’t pick someone as a third that either of you are romantically interested in – the situation is too complicated as it is.  Be honest with yourself.
  4. Talk rules over with your partner and set boundaries beforehand.  Would you prefer to limit sex to oral?  Are there things you want your partner not to do?  Discuss them with your new friend.

Newly Coupled: the Learning Curve

Adjusting from being single to being in a relationship can be difficult, to say the least. Believe me, I know. I went from ten years in a relationship to seven years out – not for want of trying I might add – to now being firmly ensconced in one for a year or so. In honor to celebrate the wondrous feat that is one full year of grown up love, I thought I’d make a list of a few of the dumb things I said early on, in the “getting used to someone being in my life” phase.

Fitting, right? I hope you can learn from my mistakes.

Here goes… This is in no apparent order – chronological, humiliation factor or otherwise.

1. “I hope to be with you as long as I can.”

I’ll come clean with you and say I had a pathological fear of forever. I am less afraid of it now but still don’t really believe in it. It went the way of my twenties. My previous relationship – the one that lasted ten years – had the big FOREVER stamp on it. When that ended, I realized nothing is as certain as USPS stamps, certainly not love.  That’s not to say I don’t believe that love or a relationship can’t last a lifetime. (Triple negative!) In fact, that is what led me to say the stupid thing above. I was feeling those forever feelings – wanting the flush of new love to never end, savoring that deep warm connection between two like souls, desiring nothing more than to bask in his glow FOREV – for as long as I could… Despite what I was feeling, my previous experiences had told me that forever did not exist in the real world. And I did not want to jinx this new love, not after being in the wilderness for so long. Hence the more realistic phrasing of what I was wishing for. I said it more than once. Truth be told I said it so often it could have become my jaded yet feisty sitcom character’s catchphrase. My boyfriend was kind enough to smile, say “me too” and continue to make out with me on the couch each time. It was only months later when I had stopped that he pointed out the absurdity of it all. And by that time I had graduated to saying ‘I love you’ when those forever feelings arose.

2. “ I don’t believe in missing people”

I can’t remember the exact words but the sentiment was the above. Let me set the scene. We were about three weeks into going steady and my beau was driving me to the airport. Before we met, I had booked an awesome trip to Toronto to see friends. It was my treat to me and I was very excited. He, however, was less than enthusiastic about the prospect of me leaving for ten days and had already told me a few times before how much he’d miss me. From my Zen-like high horse, I gently implied that missing people is a sure sign of not being in the present moment and that I tried to live my life in the present. He looked a little forlorn. Clearly, not the response he was hoping for. But I was proud of myself for not feeling forced to say something I didn’t feel at the time. The irony, of course, was that I ended up missing him intensely, which was super confusing for this fiercely independent woman. We would talking for an hour each day and I even told him I loved him for the first time on the phone from three time zones away. The longest three seconds of my life was waiting for his response.

Calling in True Love

He will see my heart first – its strength, its resilience, its magnitude, its determination, its power.

He will see my brain, and value the way I think, the logic intertwined with compassion, the depth, the simplicity.

He will see my eyes, dark brown eyes, wide with excitement, creases in the corners from smiling, and a depth that says, “I’ve been there. I understand. I’ve come through it, I’m here for you, and we’re here together now.”

He will see my skin, smooth and tan, and the curves of my body, my legs, my chest, and he will see femininity in every inch; he’ll see a softness he desires to touch and a firmness that signifies strength and health.

He will listen for my voice, the tone, the articulation, the animation and emotion injected into it that will carry him like a wave.

He will take pleasure in causing my laughter because all he wants to do is give me joy, levity, happiness.

He will recognize the rarity of my attributes and how they fit perfectly with his, and because of this, he’ll know I am the only one for him.

He’ll know this with the force of a tidal wave. He’ll know it is God’s will [greater than us, and for great purpose], that we are One, and he’ll claim our union with relentless determination, swiftly, wholly, and completely. There will be no room for interpretation. He’ll know. I’ll know. It will simply be.

By HWK

I Survived: A Run-in with my Ex

Despite being someone whose list of romantic partners is probably on the lower than average side of the spectrum, I still do find myself running into the occasional ex.  Moving across the country a few years ago really lowered the chances of bumping into the vast majority of them. And not to brag too much, but for the most part I think my exes and I are happy enough to see each other.   But there’s always that one, isn’t there?

Somehow, despite the fact that my “that one,” I’ll call her Sara, lives around the block from two of my friends, and despite the fact that we’ve often gotten pie and all day breakfast at the greasy spoon that is within sight of her front door, it didn’t happen for almost three years.  And it didn’t even happen near their place or at that diner, but rather an ice cream shop several blocks away.   Which frankly is pretty rude of her — like I know she absolutely didn’t plan to see me any more than I planned to see her but still, ice cream was involved. Let’s not initiate sadness please.  This is a safe place.

I desperately hoped she hadn’t seen me when she walked in, and I diverted my eyes away from her and towards my friend while muttering, “Oh God, my ex is here.” I was unsuccessful in that, as we both made accidental eye contact while she diverted her eyes away from me and towards her friend (date?) that she’d seen me.  This became increasingly clear when she decided to be the bigger person and come towards me.  It technically was in violation of the “please never speak to me again” request I had made of her the last time we’d texted, but I suppose no statute of limitation had been defined. That’s on me; important rule to remember for next time.

I don’t want to dwell too much on the history of our relationship, which admittedly was hardly even worth the “R” word. Not long after we parted ways a friend of mine and I were talking about the film 500 Days of Summer, and how in that movie the only real ‘sin’ that Zooey Deschanel’s character commits is that she continued to stay with someone that she didn’t really have feelings for, despite his seemingly strong feelings for her.  That’s really all Sara did with me.  She just chose the worst time in my life to do that.

Desperately Seeking A Relationship Disaster

I’m a relationship expert.  I’ve had so many relationships, how could I not be?  I’ve had a ton of bad ones, which is where the majority of my expertise lies, and a few good ones that I’ve managed to transform into disasters.  Now, I know that many of you are in solid relationships, the kind that make you feel loved, valued, and respected.  Spending your time enjoying life, doing things that expand your human experience, instead of worrying constantly, and tunnel-visioning everything onto your unrequited beloved?  Girl, I don’t know how you live like that!  So here’s a few tips, direct from my wealth of experience, to help you take your awesome pairing straight into the trashcan.  Now, I’ve used male pronouns, because my personal experience to this point has been with men, but these tips work with any gender and/or sexuality, so please plug in whichever words work best for you.

1. Care about Facebook:

Okay, when I want to tank a relationship, this is usually where I’ll start. I like to begin by throwing logic to the wind, and taking everything personally.  I consider every woman who likes his posts/tweets/photos a threat.  I’ll assume the worst about all situations, and expect that he’s probably sending dirty Facebook messages and dick-pics to all of them (to be a tiny bit fair to me, this fear is actually based on true history).  Now, you may think, “Hey, but I’m not doing that with the guys that like my stuff, why would he?”, so again, I’ll remind you, you must throw logic aside if you want to turn something you trust into something you fear, and what kind of maniac would rather spend their nights enjoying their partner, friends or self, when they could be nanny-watching another adult?

2. Listen to gossip:

After I see suspect things on social media, I like to escalate the story I’ve created in my head by actively seeking out sources of non-factual information that will make me feel even worse. Now, like my first tip, this one also requires shunning logic.  I never stop to think about the accuracy of second, third and further-hand information.  I forget all about the lessons we’ve learned from playing the telephone game, that the truth gets convoluted more and more with each mouth that chews on it and spits it back out.  Gossip is like a diamond, the bigger and more sparkly it is, the more the person possessing it wants to show it off.  I like to rely on gossip and social media assumptions instead of direct communication.  Having a conversation about my feelings and fears requires me to be vulnerable, which is frightening. Validating my suspicions with fiction leads to anger, which, when it feels justified, masquerades as strength.

3. Dig in:

If I feel like my sweetheart is pulling away, I like to really dig in deeper and hold on tighter. If one is holding a cat that doesn’t want to be held, letting it go will have far less painful results than squeezing tighter, but damnit, if I let go, I won’t be holding something soft and fuzzy anymore.  I like to think that if I can just hold on, eventually that cat will stop panicking and feeling smothered and really start enjoying my tight grip, and not scratch my face to ribbons.  What a Catch-22.  Now, if  I was more concerned with my own well-being, maybe I’d see this, instead, as tug-of-war and realize that if the other team is pulling away harder than I’m pulling towards, and I continue to hang on tight, I will only end up sitting in the mud, alone, with rope burns on my hands.

Building Your Soundtrack for Getting It On

Everyone has been there. The amazing meal has been eaten, the clever and engaging chit chat has been had, and you’re ready to get down. Just as you really lean in to the moment – BOOM. Bloodhound Gang’s “Bad Touch” blares out of the speakers, the result of an unfortunate mixture of the shuffle feature and a “90s Novelty Playlist.”

Don’t let this happen to you.

There is no rule that you must engage in amorous congress with a backing track. In fact, there is often nothing sexier than listening to your partner during lovemaking. If you do opt to underscore your sexual congress, however, there are some important things to consider:

Give it a name that makes you feel powerful

Look, sex can be awesome and weird and fun all in the same moment. Preparation is key for a fun and safe time, music choices included. I have several playlists built out for sex at different times of day (more on that in a second), and they each have a name that makes me feel like a silly badass. For example: “Do It For Buffy,” “How To Seduce a Smart Lady,” or “Foxy Brown is My Boo” might all be sexually-focused playlists on my computer RIGHT NOW.

Sexy Girl Listening To Music At Home - Point Of View Photo

When in Doubt, Say Nothing

Instrumental music is your friend when it comes to makin’ bacon. Some people find lyrics very distracting, either because they’re physically incapable of not commenting on a deep cut track you included or because they can’t help singing along to music they know. Everyone has some go-to songs that just get them into the mood. Include them, but if deciding between two options always go for the less lyrically-focused.

Rhythm Nation 2015

The key to a great getting down mix is music that has a consistent, driving baseline and repeating rhythm. Not only does this help our heartbeats synch with our partner but it also sets a pace of sorts for adult activities. 

The Reality of Dating a Celebrity

When I was twenty, I moved to Montreal from the UK. I had grown up in London, and was used to a big city. Montreal was relatively small in comparison, and though I loved its cosmopolitan atmosphere, I found it slow-paced. I soon found that my accent and my fashion sense proved to be quite a draw for the opposite sex.

In my first year in North America I dated a lot, and found that boys were quite different on this side of “The Pond.” In some ways they were less sophisticated, less polite and pushier. It was understood by the boys that sex was a part of dating after about the third date. Since it wasn’t understood by me, my relationships tended to be short-lived.

One evening, I went to a club where the cousin of a co-worker was playing. He was a minor celebrity, having appeared on a popular TV program, and was considered a rising star. I had grown up around stage people in London (my mother was a dancer and my grandmother a pianist, so our house was always full of performers.)  We were introduced to “The Star” and I reacted as though I was just meeting a regular person, since in my family celebrities are treated as normal people with interesting jobs. The Star – let’s call him Guy – was not used to being treated this way, most girls gushed a bit when they met him. He was good-looking, talented and well-known, so he expected to be treated as someone special. My reaction was unexpected and he was intrigued.

Over the next couple of weeks, we went to see his show quite regularly, and Guy and I started dating. This is when I began my personal chapter of dating a celebrity and learning the many pitfalls.

Pitfall One: Fans

First of all there are the Fans, they interrupt wherever you are, and expect to be greeted as friends. Guy was a flirt, and liked to encourage his fans to keep being friendly, so I learned to expect him to interact with them. In fact he would often pretend that I was just a friend, so he didn’t turn them off. That was the second thing I learned, girlfriends of celebrities have to share.

Pitfall Two: On the Road

Then of course, there is the fact that he is here today, on the road tomorrow; and when he is on the road, he is single. Tours can last for six months, so get used to having a life apart from his. There is a reason why celebrity marriages don’t last; even though I would travel to visit him wherever he was playing, it was a very fragmented relationship.