A Queer Life

There was a time when Tyler and I had been married about four years. Tyler told his coworker that he struck gold when he married me. Tyler and I shared everything. We could say it was paradise.   But something bothered me. Maybe it was our tenuous financial situation. Maybe because owning a home was a fantasy rather than a goal. Maybe I was overwhelmed by Tyler’s exwife taking us to court twice a year and the lawyer bills stacking up. So we moved two states away where we could afford a house, live cheaper, and his exwife would leave us alone. Everything would be better.  And it was true, we moved, bought a house, had more disposable income, and his exwife left us alone because we were so far away she couldn’t complain anymore. We even left Mormonism. We were essentially free. But something still bothered me and this time I wasn’t distracted like I was before. I began feeling homosexual desires. We toyed with polyamory and dated a little. And then we uncovered some dysfunction in o

Being sick can make you groggy and foggy, but sometimes that brain fog can help you see things more clearly, like how I feel about the romantic relationships in my life. When I got the flu and laid in bed for three days straight, I realized I have been putting too much time and energy into my relationships. That’s why I didn’t want to be polyamorous in the first place, I couldn’t spare the relationship energy.   The polyamory idea started because I wanted Tyler to find someone else he could focus his attention on to take the pressure off me. He found someone. Someone he communicates with six or more hours a day. But it’s not enough. I still feel oppressed when he’s around.  My relationship with Charles felt a bit like a vacation from my life, so I started living for the weekends when I would see him, but that wasn’t enough either.  Those weekends were starting to feel more like a scrambled egg of activities than a vacation. And even if it were more like a vacation, holding my breath

I’m drunk and high off my ass right now. The only reason I’m capable of writing is because I ate and urinated several times. Anyway, that’s not what I’m talking about right now. What I’m talking about is how I started watching Sex and the City and how interesting it is that these women are trying to figure out love but they aren’t really articulating what they want from love. They want to be powerful and independent, and financially they are, but in the romance world they don’t seem to know how to do it. So they decide all men are the same; and respond by acting the way they think men are acting toward them; I guess to give men a taste of their own medicine. I’ve only gotten through a few episodes. I’m so behind the times. But it’s a good show. It’s kind of inspiring though. I realized that I’m kind of doing the Carrie Brashaw thing with this blog. It’s all about sex and all those such things. But I feel like I have a bit of a leg up on Carrie Bradshaw because I know what I want from

In my post called The Perfect… I fell in love with a married man, my boss, and for the first time I considered polyamory as a valid option. I felt like I belonged with him and his wife. But that would never happen because…you know, all the things. Having sex with Tom would result in a broken marriage, just like all those adultery movies I saw as a kid. Those left me with lasting terror.   One day when Charles and I were making love in his room for hours and his other partner knocked on the door, he said give us five minutes and we scrambled to get dressed. It felt a bit like those adultery movies. Except there was no real fear. I couldn’t live a life of deception, but pretending to was kind of fun.  When leaving that job and Tom and I were saying goodbye we hugged, and touched for the first time. I had been wanting to touch him, hug him, fuck him for over a year, but when it happened, I didn’t even notice. Several days later I thought: “Wait a second! I should have felt chills or so

Sexuality isn’t just about who you are attracted to, it is about how you express that attraction sexually and interpersonally. I think one of the biggest problems in my life has come from thinking that my sexuality is supposed to be a certain way when that way doesn’t work for me at all.   The monogamous narrative is that our sexuality is supposed to be with one person for the rest of our lives, and if you really love them you will want that. If you don’t want that you are a bad person. The heterosexual narrative says that person needs to be the opposite sex; which further limits the already restrictive norm.  Because this was the ideology I consumed, it never occurred to me that anything else was possible. I remember seeing men on TV who had misteresses and I always thought I would prefer to be the misteress than the wife, which had its own shame.  Misteresses: are evil bloodsucking moneygrabbing whores with no hearts.   are sad sacks with low self esteem who settle for relatio

The last time I was at Charles’ house we ended up talking and drinking into the late evening with a straight woman, her lesbian sister, a femme presenting trans non-binary person, and, of course, Charles. We all ended up snuggling on the couch writhing around each other like one of those sexy vampire orgy movies. Some of us kissed. We mostly held hands, hugged and stroked each other’s hair.  I suggested an orgy, a real one, not just a snuggle one. Sometimes I wonder about alcohol. Some people call it liquid courage. Some people call it emotional lubrication. Shakespeare said it increases sexual desire but diminishes the performance. For me, alcohol just loosens the valve on all my desires. I cry easier and I usually ask someone if they will kiss me (not usually while crying). Alcohol seems to decrease inhibition. So when I’m under the influence, I act the way I always want to act, I just don’t allow myself. Maybe I need more crying and kissing (fucking) in my everyday life.  The org