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Decisions,  Erotic Journal Challenge,  EroticonUK 2019,  Experiences,  Friendship,  kinks,  Learning the Hard Way,  London,  Memes and Things

Where and What brought me Here

There are many things I look back and remember, and I know they were signs. Sometimes I saw them and paid attention, but there are far more signs that I ignored or, most likely, ran from. What brought me here is not an easy answer.

It was not proper to question much of anything, let alone your sexuality, when I was in my teens and twenties. It was the times. I have no ill will to my mom for not having talks with me about my options. We had healthy conversations about sex that were typical for the time. So with mom in the clear, let’s talk about those signs that I ignored and ran from.

I started having sex late compared to my friends. I thought back then that it was because I wasn’t pretty enough. The boys didn’t like me. It may be hard to believe for those that know me now, but I was quiet in high school. So the boys went for the more outgoing, athletic girls. The reality is, they were already putting out, and I didn’t know it. Of course, the boys were dating the girls that would suck their dicks behind the bleachers and climb into the back seat for a quickie. It makes sense now. I wasn’t that girl. The funny thing is that I am that girl now! So where are those boys? They are now men with families, and some probably have sons that I would prefer to hang out with and of legal age to have sex with. I’ve come a long way, yes?

I married a decent and kind man and had the excellent money management skills. We dated for eight years, married after we saved enough for a house, waited until he finished school to have a child. We had very vanilla sex very rarely. I knew when I married him that I shouldn’t. Not because of who he was, but because of who I was. Things went south, and we divorced, remained friends, and co-parented our daughter. (Yes, there were other issues, but that is for another blog). I will say that my self-love and self-esteem suffered a bit at his hands. I don’t believe he did it intentionally and, in his way was trying to help, but it left scars.

I married a women that loved everything about me. She was supportive, caring, and encouraging. We had similar dreams; we had similar pictures of what our future lives would look like. We made some of those dreams come true and spent ten years happily together. Being in a relationship with a woman was a huge step for me. I fell in love with her for all the right reasons, except one. I thought I had to be gay because I didn’t enjoy sex with my husband. Sex with her, in the beginning, was exciting and different. We had a healthy sex life… until we didn’t. Commonly known as the lesbian death bed in my circles, we remained best friends as our sex life drowned in farm work and jobs that we didn’t like but needed to pay the bills. (Again, there were other issues, but that is for another blog). I will say I never felt more supported, but it came with a cost of constant devotion and time, and I started to feel stifled, strangled, distant. I also had a struggling daughter, and the relationship she had with my wife was not a good one. It was a recipe for an end, which it did.

While 20 and 15-year relationships are not considered failed ones, I was beginning to think the problem was me. The absolute truth is the problem was I was bored with the sex I was having. Love can live in the heart and die in the groin. Okay, maybe that is harsh, but at some point, we, male or female, all must admit that sex is essential. For me, that lesson took a long time to learn.

Between marriages, I met a man that was the sole reason I was even open to being with a woman. He had experiences in sexual situations I had never thought about. He shared stories, introduced me to porn, and made it possible to open my mind to some very different scenarios. He was the first man to tie me up (safely and with consent), which got things rolling. I was on a quest to see what else was out there.

That led me to my wife, which was a possibility, but that was only the start. The next man I met was a co-worker and friend. I could not even tell you how we started talking about sex. He was experienced in BSDM, and we had lengthy conversations about it. He was my first resource. That friend introduced me to Loving BDSM. A podcast offered by Kayla Lords and John Brownstone. I listened to every episode from the first to the most recent. I knew that I wanted that kind of relationship with all the truth and honesty and kinky fuckery they talked about.

I also found so many more bloggers and podcasters that shared their knowledge and experience. It was then I heard about Eroticon. I wanted to know more, so I booked a flight, hotel, and conference ticket and took my first international trip alone to learn more. I had started a relationship with that friend and co-worker, and he was my Dom for about a year until we parted ways. He was the one that encouraged me to start a blog. I loved writing and began sharing my thoughts and experience and connected with like-minded people. We parted ways shortly after starting the blog and about six months before my trip. I give him most of the credit for opening my mind to new and exciting things and making sex something that was fun. I give myself credit for moving forward without his encouragement and making my sexual life what I wanted it to be.

The following resource would be my blog and the connections I have made here—the other writers and their ability and willingness to share their thoughts and experiences. The Twitter community is open and welcoming. The devoted and dedicated people who create memes to join in and follow. These have been the basis of my writing and growth. I didn’t realize how much work went into prompting others to write, join in, and support each other. It is a lot of work, slow to start, and takes a tremendous amount of dedication and persistence. I hope one day I am that person. Now, I enjoy joining in and reading other people’s thoughts and perspectives.

There are a lot of reasons that I continue to write. There are even more reasons that make that difficult. This past year was a health issue that gutted me, literally. It brought my sex drive to its knees, and I barely touched the laptop. I wasn’t even reading anyone else because I didn’t feel sexual, sexy, or healthy. I am back at it, and while it is a slow start, I hope to get back on a manageable schedule. This community that welcomed me and encouraged me is my most incredible resource.

The Erotic Journal Challenge

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