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!

NoMoreWetSpot.com

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.

My Summer Reflection

Summer Reflection: Cheers!

This summer, has been one of risks, and buckling down and just doing the hard things. I wish that I could say that it was a season that brought conclusions or even certainty, but I’m not sure that’s a place I exist. So, let me share a few milestones that I have worked on, and basically put into my brain, that yes, I may deserve a pat on the back even though I am not quite there. And maybe some kind soul will read this and agree, and perhaps buy me a coffee or a beer via my BreakingAway Patreon page? Any who, let me share a few of the big things I’m working on.

First and foremost, I am now financially free from my ex. It was exhausting at times, and the final step of a years long process to untangle our lives from each other. We are both in better places apart, and I am grateful that we were able to achieve this goal with civility. With that chapter closed, I was able to put the money from my separation to great use, and have made real progress in my future finances. I have struggled with money for decades, and I am proud to say that I have turned the corner with a real end in sight. I am finally in control of my own future.

Now with that freedom, something else that I knew would happen, was an emotional release. And well, what that means for all you is that, I have been able to put the hard words on paper when it comes to the book I am working on. Yup, I am actively finishing my final edit, which, come hell or high water I will begin the pitching process and outside editing pain. I’m the closest I have ever been to finishing this, and with the fear comes this strange feeling of readiness. I am ready to let this project go out into the world, fear and all.

So, now, let me get to the summer of love summary. Well, I am no closer to an answer than when this summer started. Real connections have been made, and while I have no clue what the future will hold, I will say, I believe this was the summer of friendship. Clearly that is not where I want these stories to end, but, I am resting easy in the knowledge that none of this effort has been wasted. I have met and interacted with incredible people, and I feel rich in the knowledge that real friendships have been forged out of this. Yeah, there has been a lot of crap, and a heap of rough stuff to navigate, sorry to my nearest and dearest for having to listen to it all, but ultimately, there have been no regrets this summer. I took risks, shared real feelings, and had some intense conversations, and even better, I had some really fun moments, and a lot of laughter.

So, those are some of my summer reflections. Yes, I know the season isn’t over yet, and of course being me there is so much more to come, but… I wanted to take pause and give myself a reason to enjoy a few moments. I have worked hard, and even though the joy is by myself, I am patting myself on the back. The hard work will pay off. And the journey, well… it’s been an adventure!

The Rollercoaster of My Life

Yoga Calming the Rollercoaster

The past few days have been a shiny example of the rollercoaster of life, and true to form I am going to openly and honestly share a few of the highlights and my thoughts. My personal life is going through some pretty significant changes. I am questioning what I want from future relationships and openly exploring what that might look like for myself, and those around me.  My book has taken what I consider to be an incredible turn, and I am writing with more passion and purpose than I have in a long time.  Also, I have met a person who is treating me the way I had always hoped was possible but never dreamed I deserved. It’s new, fresh, and very exiting.  And while I am just trying to live in the moment, and take things that are really new day by day, it’s difficult not to look back on my past and wonder why I made certain decisions.

While all these pretty significant things are going on and bringing me beautiful little highs, I am getting slammed back into reality at what seems every fricken turn. Physically I am in a pain, but healing from a sprained wrist and body aches from an icy fall I had. Emotionally, I am at a place where I am trying to be vulnerable with one person, and putting up walls and boundaries with another. It is an exhausting struggle, that multiple times during the day I worry that I am just going to break, say the wrong thing, or cave all together. The balancing act is treacherous, and I look forward to the day when all this emotional regulating pays off. Unfortunately, I see no end in sight, and that makes my emotions difficult to anticipate. Which in turn, makes me a little volatile, and wanting to just run away to some safe haven, and hunker down until everything has stabilized.

So, while all the real world stuff is playing ping pong with my emotions, I spent yesterday reading the comment section from my last blog post. Not only, did I get to read fully unsubstantiated claims, I also found out that my troll is back. Normally I just smile, and calmly respond to haters (I’ve done it for years and am pretty adept at not taking things personally), but yesterday, it broke me. Call it bad timing, or whatever you want, but honestly, I just dropped my head down on my desk and started crying.

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Breaking Away from Monogamy is my blog. It is filled with my words, my experiences, and my truth. To have that questioned, and then my integrity called out within a few hours by multiple people just shook me. Yes, I recognize that by admitting that the troll got to me, I am opening myself to more trolling. When it comes to random internet attention seeking there is nothing I can do or say to make it stop aside from ignore it which I usually end up doing. Today however, I am choosing to be honest in saying that the so called “truth” seeker is a thorn in my side. And the timing of that person coming back into my life just plain sucks.

But, here I sit, writing about all these rollercoaster events happening, and thanks to an amazing nights sleep, I may finally be regulating on the side of that little thing called hope. There are great human beings out there. A few of you even reached out and supported me yesterday, which was beyond appreciated. And that is what I will try and focus on. Hope is healing me. And I wish the same for each and every one of you out there. Take a pause and focus on one tiny thing that glimmers with possibilities. Hold that in your mind, visualize it, materialize it before you, and let that be your 2021 ray of sunshine. I’ve got my hope written on my calendar beside me, and I read it every morning and smile. And I want all of you to have the same.

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Breaking Away with Jazz

Breaking away with Jazz

Late last year when things seemed pretty financially and emotionally hopeless for me, I set a goal; purchase my own piano when I paid off some debt. As I searched for the most budget friendly digital piano it dawned on me that I didn’t just want it to collect dust in the corner. I needed something to work towards, something truly meaningful to me. And that my friends was learning to play Jazz. The soul of the music, the delight I feel when it dips into minor tones and comes back again and the way it just sounds so effortless taking my mind on the most wondrous journeys. It truly is a genre with endless versatility: at one moment fuelling my creative soul, and at another calming my breathing so I can get the deepest possible stretches, then of course there are the songs that linger for days on end touching on emotions I hardly knew were there.

Jazz has been a part of my life pretty much from the moment I turned 18 onwards, when I bought my first Ella Fitzgerald CD and began researching her career and musical evolution. The obstacles she had to overcome just to share her gift was so beyond anything I could comprehend. I grew up in Canada, as a white girl, being told that I could do anything I put my mind to. And here was this woman, with more musical talent than I have in my whole being getting shut out of club, after club simply because of the colour of her skin. Being an 18 year old, idealist surrounded by people of all races, I thought proudly to myself, look how far we have come! Look at how equality has been achieved! 

I believed this right up until my half Jamaican niece was born nearly a decade later, and I saw firsthand something shocking, racism in my own backyard. Family members were worried that this little girl was going to have a tough time growing up due to the colour of her skin. They were concerned that life would be so much tougher for her, than for the rest of us. I fought this mentality, and debated with them, that it was their close-minded views projected on her, and that she would be absolutely fine. That this birth was amazing, and she would be given the exact same opportunities as everyone else. I even had heated debates saying that we as a society no longer see colour. I was so naïve.

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A few years after her birth, my cousin called me in a fit of rage, because she took her little girl to the public pool, and a lady asked her where she got her baby. Listening to her experience, I felt the most helpless pain. Then there was an incident a short time later, where a woman threatened to call the police on this amazing mother for apparently kidnapping a child that couldn’t possible be hers. I was horrified. Was this simply a small-town mindset or was something deeper going on? Again, I put these thoughts on the back burner, and proclaimed how proud I was that I didn’t see race. That I could look beyond everything and love this little girl with all my heart and soul.

Over the last few weeks, I have questioned this very painful thought, and am making progress to break away from it. I thought not seeing race was the ultimate goal, but my mind is changing. I don’t want to “not see race”. I am coming to the conclusion that we actually need to celebrate other races, and cultures and include all of these unique attributes into our society with open and loving arms. Embracing the diversity, and finding a way to integrate it as a complex system, rather than striving for us all to one day be the same colour (which I always in my head hoped would magically be purple). And that is when I got an idea, music is one of the most meaningful ways that I have learned about diversity, and the experiences of other people. Why? Because music brings people together. It is an expression beyond words, it is something you feel, and it is something I feel very deeply.

Personally I have a lot of work to do with breaking free of some of the naïve ideals I thought were important, and if you are willing, I will be sharing my journey every few posts. I do not feel that change will happen over night. I see racisms I didn’t even know existed and I want to do as much listening, and amplifying of amazing voices that I can, while at the same time staying true to myself and bringing positivity into the world. Uniting Jazz, into my sex positive blog is the best way I know how to do that. I hope you enjoy listening to the incredible music I am exploring, with my personal focus being artists who are black, and culturally diverse. And let us not forget, that once we are all free to be non-monogamous sexual beings again, that music plays an intrinsic role in sex, and just setting an atmosphere, which when the time is right we will explore together too.

Want to see the behind the scenes photos for this blog and others? Or just buy me a one time thank you beer? Check out my BreakingAway Patreon page.