We’re Trying…

What a terrifying thing to admit.  Are we even allowed to do that?  This is something couples keep to themselves until the 3 month mark is over, then you announce.  But the thing is, the 3 month part is the hardest.  It’s the most nerve wracking, and the most traumatic, especially when things go wrong.  Or even when things go right, or so I assume, because it’s your first time and you’re terrified.

I’ve recently had things go wrong.  It was awful,  but we both persevered like you’re supposed to.  We grieved together, but remained separated from the world.  When I went to work, I pretended that everything was ok.  Then I would breakdown at home, where I would face another reality of the miscarriage, and then another. The isolation, and the pretending everything is alright is exhausting. It takes a toll on you. On your womanhood, or manhood, or all the things that creep into your minds as you go from hope and wonderment, to letdown, and sadness.

The medical professionals tell you, especially with the first one that’s It’s not your fault.  It’s common.  You google the stats and see about 1/4 of all pregnancies end in miscarriage.   But is that true?  Was mine recorded?  Am I a statistic or just another unrecorded woman who went through something we aren’t supposed to talk about? Will I go through it again? Can I persevere through another failure?

And don’t get me started on the burden and grief and sheer helplessness that is felt by our partners.  Is that what being a future parent is really about? Taking your lumps in silence and then only talking about things when they are good?  I hate the silence.   I hate that we went through that alone. 

So, I’m changing the conversation.  We are trying to have a baby.  I’m now 40 and that’s scary. 

But also incredibly fun, and so hot, and all the amazing things that sex can be, especially with the best partner that you have ever been with. If we don’t start trying now, the reality is, we will be out of time. Biology doesn’t let a woman have babies at any point in her life, my biological clock is screaming. Men, yet again have hit the procreation jackpot. They can always have babies, well almost. Whereas me? I simply cannot wait anymore to try. And because I have found the man of my dreams, who is on the absolute same page as me, it’s simply a matter of can we, rather than do we want to. So, we are trying… to have a baby.

And yes, I am terrified of bringing any of you readers along for the journey. For sharing the private, personal, and all the jazz in between. But here I am, being vulnerable and raw, again!

Thank you for all who have supported me over on Patreon. I am getting back into the habit of taking being the scenes photos, and this post is no exception. So, enjoy!

Breaking Away: My Next Chapter

Love, Sex, and What Comes Next

Love, Sex, and What Comes Next

There are so many things that society, or family dictate that you must keep a secret.  Your sex life for example, shall never be shared publicly.  So of course, I created a blog to explore and to ultimately better understand my last non-monogamous relationship.  It began as questions, and evolved into my stance that breaking away from taboos can be valuable, and sometimes even helpful to share.  Writing has given me clarity of purpose and is also how I best express myself, and find the answers to all of my many, many questions.  Sometimes I even stumble upon a snippet of wisdom or two, and I count myself lucky in that I’ve been fortunate enough to share with anyone who dares to read. Oh, and I may have finally finished my book… so stay tuned for details on that! But for this post let me get down to my next chapter brought to you by love, sex, and what comes next for me!

I am about to embark on a new sort of taboo and secret sharing, that is going to push me out of my comfort zone, yet again.  And that is this whole wanting a family thing.  Specifically, wanting children.  I am tearing up, simply writing those words, because there is a secret deep down, that I have felt necessary to keep to myself for quite some time.  And it’s hurt to do, almost as badly as the actual experience was, and that was my miscarriage early on this year.

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For those long time readers who are going, whoa!  I signed up to read about your experiences outside of monogamy, and not something so personal, such as loss.  And, at this point, I thank you so much for your support over the years, and completely understand you not wanting to continue.  For those who are still a little curious, as to what I can possibly be thinking right now, it is simply this; trying to have children is a subject that people are reluctant to talk about.  It is something that feels strange, and difficult to write about, or even talk about, and that is why, I know deep down, that I must.

Also, I have long touted myself as being sex positive.  And guess what?  One of the things that can result from sex, is procreation.  Thus, I don’t think this is a strange fit at all for this blog.  Sex is about pleasure, fun, love, and yes, sometimes even trying to create life.  I’m almost 40, financially stable, and have found the absolute love of my life.  And so, what better time than to try, fulfilling a dream I have had for decades, which is to be a mother. And yes, there can be no doubt that my biological clock is absolutely screaming at me to hurry up, before it gets too late, so hormones might play a little role too.

I have experienced so much when it comes to sexual exploration, as this blog can attest.  But the one thing, I have yet to experience is what sex is like, when two people who love each other, are trying to conceive.  I was trying to make that line cheesy and corny, but decided that blunt was the best.  When I accidentally got pregnant, I was horrified to realize the complete lack of reputable information for all the many questions that I had.  Yes, I am a sexual being, and yes, I want to continue to be a sexual being even when pregnant, but, above all, I want to do the right things, and ensure that I’m doing all the best things possible to ensure a healthy baby. And while this blog will never and can never serve to give medical advice, what it aims to do is share my experiences in an honest way.

I’m sure there are many people that don’t want to read about this journey, and that is absolutely alright with me.  But I know how many questions I had late last year when I found out, and how helpless I felt when everything went wrong.  I don’t think I am alone in that feeling, and as I have always said, if I can help just one person through my mistakes, and experiences, then all the vulnerability will be worth it.  My writing will remain raw, real, and yes, I will be talking about sex, this is me after all. So stay tuned, because I’m about to tackle something taboo, and write the secrets down that apparently you are not supposed to talk about. Love, Sex and what comes next!

For all the behind scenes content, and to support this little blog, please consider checking out my Patreon page!

One Less Stampede Slut: My Little Reflection

Goodbye Stampede Slut

I woke up this morning to a notification from Google that one of my pages was skyrocketing, and I smiled. It was one of those knowing smiles, filled with reflection, and appreciation for almost everything that has brought me to this point, a place whereby I love who I am. And I realized, perhaps for the first time, that while my experiences “slutting” it up for Stampede helped shape who I am today, I have in fact broken away from that woman. I am no longer a stampede slut, but holy cripes did I ever have some great stampede fun.

For those who don’t know, the Calgary Stampede, well the party side of it, is basically like a cowboy Mardi Gras so to speak. It’s a time when the liquor flows over a 10 day period and almost everyone is in a cowboy hat! The transformation my city goes through is quite remarkable, and there is this feeling of western solidarity met with Ya Hoo’s, and Yee Haw’s on the streets. I know it sounds hokey, but you should see the grin on my face as I write these words. It’s a strange culture, that truly you have to see to believe. And I have definitely experienced a lot!

From drunken threesomes, to walks of shame. From pub crawls, to 2 stepping with strangers, and all the amazing butts in tight jeans! I’ve been drunker than a skunk, and woken up in strange beds. I’ve been to stampede swingers parties, and couples speed dating, and a few times, I’ve even been responsible and gone home alone, Ha!

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The thing about this time of year, is that you can have stupid fun, especially if you are single or non-monogamous. And you can win some incredibly stupid prizes if you pretend to be the above, which absolutely happens in this city. There are many a marriage that allow for “indiscretions” during this 10 day period, and even more that it is absolutely forbidden to do so! It really is a wild time whereby wedding rings just don’t seem to matter, and well, it is the closest thing we as a city have to being sexually free.

And the thing of it is, I always knew that one day, the parties wouldn’t mean as much to me. And the call to come out and party would fade out into a whisper, I just didn’t expect it to happen so soon. Every experience that I have had, good and bad, wearing my skimpiest western wear, often out on the prowl, has made me the person I am today. And I smile, thinking back to the parties, and the memories, and the country music soundtrack that is forever burned into my brain. It is a cherished part of who I am, but, I can no longer call myself a slutty girl of stampede.

I can and will continue to dress the part because dressing up is my favourite thing to do. But, the wild parties, and drunken sexcapades are a thing of my past. I love that I live in a city whereby I could be this slutty girl when I needed to be her the most. When I needed to just lose myself in the music, and the flirtation, and the attention, I had a 10 day oasis. It helped scratch an itch that I admit I had to scratch.

It brought me so much closer to being the sex positive person that I am today. And I loved her, and her fearlessness in wearing pink chaps in public, or the shortest denim skirts! She was bold, and carefree, and stampeded her little heart out. I hope that I take the best parts of her with me, as I forge forward, towards this next, beautiful chapter of my life. Thank you Stampede Slut, and goodbye!

If you want to check out some of my stampede outfits throughout the years, check out my BreakingAway page on Patreon.

Hate is Hate is Hate: Get Out of Your Echo Chamber

More Plants, and Less Hate

Well, with another election completed I sit here drained and upset, not with the results, but with the hatred. I firmly believe that love is love.  In fact, I am writing a whole series on Medium about my exploration of love and everything that non-monogamy helped me explore.  You know, the whole, love takes many forms, shapes, and sizes.  It’s a beautiful thing, and if there is anything I would love to be remembered for, it is overcoming many obstacles, and instead of being bitter, or angry, actually showing a side of playful fun, laughter, and love.  Yup.  Pretty simple.  I want to love and be loved, in an aura of happiness and bliss.  Doesn’t that sound lovely?

But, again, here I sit, unfriending people from my real life networking who are spewing hate.  The problem is, they don’t seem to realize they are doing it.  They truly believe that they are on the side of good, and that my friends is the hypocrisy that I simply cannot tolerate.  The world needs people to fight for, and speak up for those who are unable to.  We all deserve love, safety, security, and access to more than basic human rights.  For all these things, we often require advocates with whom can recognize when things are unfair and enact real change for these humans.  This is the compassion and empathy that our world needs more of. 

What we don’t need, is people who go too far in this mission.  The people who become blinded in their own self righteousness brings those further away from the “them”. With the result being… more separation.  We must find a way to start opening the conversations.  We must all, suspend our disbelief for a few moments that we have “enemies” and reflect that perhaps we are all humans and it may be more effective to listen than yell. I know, I know, it sounds crazy.

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I wrote this post mainly, because we just had an election in my province, and that I was unfriending people who were displaying hypocrisy.  I wanted to explore that, acknowledging that yes, I am erring too. The complexity of this issue is that there are people I know I just cannot reach. And there is an element of self care, that comes from putting a little separation between people who are just so far gone, that it is draining to even be in their presence.  While I do wish I could talk to these people, one on one, I simply don’t have the energy for that large of a battle.  Echo chambers are frightening places right now, and waking up all those hornets is going to get me stung. 

This piece is more a start for me.  To ensure I know what my long term goal is.  You know, the ultimate legacy that I want to leave for future generations.  Big words, dreaming big, and envisioning a world with love, empathy, and compassion.  How will we get there?  By listening to people who may not share our views, and trying to find common ground.  But doing so only when we can, and understanding that sometimes it is OK to just close a door for a few moments, and let some of the emotion simmer out. 

As I was reminded a few days ago, after a rant and rave of a horrible customer, perhaps all he needed was a hug and someone to listen to him.  We live in complex times.  And I recognize that there is more to learn by asking questions, rather than having all the answers.  And that is a start to neutralizing hate. Oh and could we please stop telling people who to vote for, and start having arguments and debate again?!? That would be swell…

If you want the behind scenes photos, or to just support this blog so I can get my book finished, Patreon is the place!

Writing the Hard Stuff: Book Lament

Stretch

One of the things I pride myself on is being able to write in an authentic way, be it good, bad, or just weird. The thing about this book writing part though, is it’s even tougher, and has brought me to tears more often than I ever thought possible. Yesterday, I actually wrote myself a little motivational cue card in hopes that reading it would help, with my book writing lamenting.

For those who don’t know, I am writing a memoir of sorts, of my experiences in non-monogamy. There are a lot of words written, and it is so close to being done, however, there this internal struggle with being real about how I experienced things outside of monogamy, and not wanting to be all doom and gloom. That decade was hard. It was filled with challenges, and there are days that I lament the fact that I felt so alone exploring it. There are so many wonderful people that I met, and such incredibly hot moments, but looking back, it took a lot out of me.

I was not experiencing things in the manor that made me feel safe, cherished, or even loved. And that is difficult for me to rectify. With that in mind, I don’t want my book to read like a horror story (OK that is being really dramatic and it’s not even close). Instead I want it to be an adventure story, that cherishes all the incredible things that happened, but, I just can’t tell that story, because it is not authentic.

To balance things out, I have started a few posts on Medium that aim to share what my takeaway is on the complexities of love and what each relationship norm or not norm can bring to the table, in Love Explored (Which you can purchase a membership via Medium directly, to explore so many amazing writers!). Writing this helps ground me, to be able to look towards the possibilities and the lessons I wish I got to experience first hand, far more often than I did. That decade of my life, forever changed me, and I’m so glad it made me a more loving and accepting person, rather than the biter and angry individual it very easily could have.

I’m trying to be brave, authentic, and articulate in how I remember my life. I hope that’s what my finished product shows. I really, earnestly do. But, I suppose that will be in the eyes of the reader to discover, when it is finally finished. It’s the big push to work through these hard emotions, and I thank each and everyone of you who have offered encouragement, listened to me babble things out, and who have joined me for drinks or bought me beer. Soon….