Hormones Suck!

So, it seems to me like my biological clock and my body are in cahoots to drive me absolutely mad.  It’s as if, now that my body knows what pregnancy feels like, it has realized it’s true calling.  And pregnant or not, I am inundated with symptoms.  What fresh hell is this?  Breasts doubling in size, right before my period and aching to high hell. The nausea, the exhaustion, and on my god the hormones!!! The fluctuations of it all are enough to drive a person insane. Is there a word for pre-pregnancy baby brain?

Perhaps I should be grateful that for the majority of my life, periods were a mere blip on my radar.  Well let me tell you, my body is absolutely making up for lost time.  Every time it realizes that I am not pregnant it goes into full rebellion mode.  And I am absolutely losing my mind, sanity, and whatever grace I have with people.  But the person you should feel most compassion for is my dear partner taking this all like a champ.

To be clear, we were not trying (as of the original writing of this post), as my doctor wanted me to see a gynecologist to ensure everything was in working order, as a direct result of having two miscarriages in one year.  So, the possibility of getting pregnant was extremely slim. But again, do you know who couldn’t hear that?  My body and hormones.  They do not care.  My biological clock screams, and they respond with volatile mood swings, tears, and a sore and aching body. 

No one warned me about this when we decided to start trying.  It’s maddening!  And it is exhausting.  I am tired of being told we shouldn’t try for the moment, then given the green light, rinse and repeat. And perhaps my body is echoing my sentiment of annoyance. My body is not getting any younger, and those eggs won’t be viable forever. So could we stop with the issues please? I am in limbo, with my body swinging me back and forth between sanity, and whatever the hell my current mood is. I just want a bit of time to enjoy all the baby making fun. But clearly, my body does not agree, and has taken a firm stance that it needs to put me through the ringer, perhaps making sure that I really do want a baby. Ugh… hormones suck!!!

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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!

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.

Aftershocks, Butterflies, and NRE: A Deeper Dive

Musing about Aftershocks

Ok, let us delve a little deeper into this whole aftershock conversation.  One of the most surprising things to be brought up, is the correlation between aftershocks and NRE (new relationship energy). Now this is a fascinating rabbit hole that I am eager to go down.  I personally have always equated NRE with the butterflies and have written a few articles on how I adore chasing butterflies.  In fact, that is precisely what made non-monogamy so appealing to me. The idea of being in a solid relationship and not having to shut off the possibilities of experiencing butterflies with new people.

But what if what I was describing with sexual aftershocks has some sort of correlation with NRE?  Butterflies and NRE for me, have been this sheer blissful, shocking, happiness wave of new excitement.  Whereas with the aftershocks, it is entirely sexual in nature and is basically like little reminiscent orgasms when I experience a memory.  And the memory could be as far back as with my first relationship, or first time masturbating with a new toy, or the like. They are random and unexpected body sparking orgasmic memories. And yes, often it overlaps with NRE, or the butterflies, but I’m not positive that this is a correlation vs causation scenario.  It feels different to me somehow.

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I get the butterfly feeling when I flirt, or see a cute face (or butt). But, cannot get that aftershock feeling unless there has been a physical connection. It’s like the release of stored or shared energy.   Haha… I’m really trying to explain this, and all I am doing is turning myself on!  I of course, want everything.  The sex, the aftershocks, the butterflies, and the NRE.  Yes, please universe, yes please!

Now, these are only my thoughts, based on my experience. Maybe I’m overlooking something. I really want to hear from you, and your thoughts. Where do you fall on this?  Have you had aftershocks? What is the experience like for you? Do you know any resources that discuss this? Let’s talk about this! 

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Aftershocks and Metamorphs

Pondering Metamorphs

There is an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation with a metamorph.  This beautiful woman is a rare anomaly that has the ability to perfectly match and imprint with her partner.  When that happens she becomes his perfect match, in every single way, basically living for him. I’ve been thinking a lot of that episode as I am going through this period of transition.  I was forced to find myself while still living with an ex.  Thanks a lot Covid, depression, illness, and of course financial woes. The last few years have been a lot, and while I tried earnestly to just make the situation work, the reality was, I just had nothing left to give.  And in that drained state of being this idea of a metamorph kept creeping in.  Who am I?  What do I love to do?  What are my sexual preferences? Oh, aftershocks, (which I will explain shortly)!

I have written a few articles about being gender and relationship fluid.  I love exploring that side of me, however, it has been a real challenge to accomplish without the full support of a partner.  It is difficult for me to just let go with strangers.  I need that safety. That intense, passionate person by my side who I can be myself with, and explore all the little dark sides of my personality with.  Picture “I want to be evil” as my soundtrack as I write this out.

It seems to me, that being friends with a potential lover, before jumping into the sack with them, and showing intimacy is the only way that I can ensure that I don’t fall into the metamorph trappings.  And I am terrified to admit, that I have actually been exploring that with a human being, and well, the feelings are more intense than I was expecting.  Not the whole falling in love thing (although I could see that happening).  It is more, the intense aftershocks I feel when we are apart. This is difficult to explain, but I am going to try simply because I want to open some dialogue, to see if others experience this, or know what this is.

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So, imagine you are intimate with someone.  You have an experience or a moment that is unique to the situation.  A touch, a phrase is said, a special embrace, or a new sexual experience.  In the moment everything is amazing, and hot as fuck. Sexual satisfaction all around.  OK.  Now here is the aftershock part as best I can describe.

At various moments over the next few days, my mind will wander, as it does, and I will remember the moment his hand touched my thigh for the first time.  What follows for me is a flushed face, a gasp of breath, and the actual feeling of electricity bolting throughout my body.  I will think about that whisper in my ear about him cumming, and boom, I am thrown back into this orgasmic lightning bolt of a moment again. And then I remember the feeling of just being held in his arms, and it’s the same. Words, sensations, visuals, they all can offer this aftershock. And the experience of memory isn’t something that my friends can relate to. Maybe it’s because I have troubles articulating it in words, because often when I try, I just blush and get tongue tied.  And if do dare to imagine, just typing this out, I am a complete puddle. It’s as if my memories control my orgasms for a brief but intense moment. Does that make any sense? Did I type that correctly? Please know, I am trying… for science!

Now here is the one thing I’ve noticed, I cannot relive the same memory with the same intensity.  It has to be new ones, and when I try to replay a memory that I know I got that after effect release from, the feelings it arouses are muted down, and often times, non existant. And I suspect, this is why I have always been so eager to explore new situations when it comes to sex.  That desire to have these aftershocks in my life forever would be my absolute bliss.  But… I have to be very careful that they are my experiences.  They have to be organic.  What I mean by that is, I am susceptible to being an enigma who just follows her partner around.  And I do find that hot as well, just with a different level of intensity. I love pleasing people, and I cannot shut that empathetic part of my being off. So, on the idea of falling into the metamorph role, I can do that, but I think I prefer aftershocks? Maybe? Oh that game of balance and life eh? Clearly I need to do a whole lot more exploration on the subject, right?

So, in closing, who else has experienced aftershocks?  Is this a thing? Do you have metamorph experience? Do you enjoy just being someone’s perfect lover? Let’s talk about it! I might do a little behind the scenes photo shoot for my Patreon subscribers if we get some good dialogue going… Maybe 😉