Exposing Axel

When you write a blog like this, it gets a bit sticky with giving too many personal details and then not enough at all. I am TERRIBLE at this if you follow me on Twitter because here I will, for whatever stupid reason, never mention my exact city but then post pictures of two or three things that are instantly recognizable or do something as stupid with verbiage, etc. There’s also a fine line about revealing too much about the people in your life too because certain facts link you further to the muggle world and then you sit back and realize that you are never going to run for political office and that it just, in most ways, doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of life, yet I tend to be over protective of Axel, Thumper, and the others who pop in and out of this virtual space.

I write all of this as more followup and more background on the events of the last two or three weeks because, during the discussions and ground rule setting about the Scotts, a few other issues surfaced that caused me to have a few minor, yet, significant trust issues with Axel. The first I wrote about here in my original post about honesty and an issue popped up with Axel that was small, but somewhat significant to me because its was a direct contradiction to the truth made during a conversation about the fact that as an open couple, we absolutely 110 percent had to say nothing but deep done and brutal honesty. What transpired after that conversation and post was a series, well, three, further reveals that were minor on the surface but caused me concern for multiple reasons. I feel like I should say that these items had absolutely nothing to do with the Scotts yet, at the same time, had everything to do with the Scotts.

By that, I mean, the past is the past and mistruths were told and, though I was hurt at the lack of omission, none of these were things I could be mad at because I understood the reasoning and the addictive need behind them. They also placed Axel into a box in my mind I didn’t want to see him in, and that upset me greatly, because I do not like seeing him weak and, even more so, vulnerable. But, as we embraced a new level of openness and, at the same time, were negotiating the terms of things like safe sex, time apart and others, any slight shadow of doubt began to paint everything in a weird light that wasn’t very flattering and didn’t make me want to allow the threesome to move forward, because, if absolute trust is not there, what the fuck kind of drama would we be having in six months.

All of these reveals were on the table via FaceTime and iMessage and I looked forward to getting home late Friday and starting a busy, yet relaxing weekend at home with him. Something was weird when I saw him though and I couldn’t put my finger on it, but decided to let it go until we went to bed then I asked again if there was something I didn’t know. He said “no, all is out” but had a tone that said otherwise so I pressed a bit more when he finally sat up straight in bed and said, “okay, you win, here is what is going on…”

I am stopping there not for the drama but more for a backstory so that it makes sense but this also ties into my opening about whether to say too much, too little, or nothing at all. I decided to disclose these things because they will factor into the story of Drew and Axel over the next year and, well, I continue to keep writing. That said, Axel was an athlete most of his life until his late 30’s when he developed arthritis in his hip on his right side which, by the time he was 40 had him needing a cane, yet he was still working out like a fiend. Joint replacement had become essential and there were two or three options on how to do it based on the level of activity he intended to have post surgery and each had their risks and benefits. His goal was to play again, so he went with a more complicated fusion type surgery that was a partial hip and thigh bone replacement made of some type of metal that about one person in one million develops and allergy to during their life, but this would make it possible for him to fall and be rough without worrying too much about breaking it. It was a complicated procedure that took seven plus hours and required five days in the hospital and then three months of rehab at home, but he got through it fine and the first year was great and he has the most kickass 17″ scar that is really sexy in its own way. During this time he had so much pain that he developed a comfort level with the narcotics that we both recognized as unhealthy and we weened them down, I hid them in the house, and all was fine

Then came year two and he started hurting and, if he did too much exercise and pushed too much fluid out of the joint, he would start literally squeaking which sounded like a witch’s fingernails on 1276 chalkboards. He slowed down, but all was normal according to the ortho people and they blamed the fact he had gained some weight and was just getting older (he was 43).

To cut this very long story short, his movement continued to decline, his pain continued rise, and his weight was not moving despite diet and exercise and the gain has been primarily in his ass which has given me the Kardashian I never wanted. I knew the pain was rough and knew he managed it the best he could, but what I did not know was that he was dipping into the pills a few more times than needed and had investigated other sources, and these have been most of the discoveries of the week. He’s hardly an addict as it’s been less than 35 pills over two years, but there is a psychological dependence on them he didn’t want to admit and this was what he was carrying around in addition to his reality star backside. Whether big or small, an addiction is still and addiction and this has to be dealt with properly, which, of all people, he thoroughly knows.

Again, cutting the story, this week, you know, the horrid week from hell, also just happened to be his three year checkup and I was able to get him to finally admit to the ortho that he hasn’t been as tough as he pretended to be and that something was wrong. So, tests were done, things were said, MRI’s and X-rays were taken and, at the end of the day, I wish he had played the lottery that week because he is that one in one million person and his blood levels have become toxic to the implant which has caused the swelling, i.e.: weight gain, the lethargy and, most importantly, the pain.

What comes next is some pain management therapy which may or may not include appropriate drug use which will be monitored by someone other than me and we are working this week with the ortho to coordinate his calendar, my calendar, and a build time for the new bone of sockets that takes a minimum of two months (I think Chris at Steelwerks could really build an awesome one, just an fyi), and Axel’s schedule and client load because he will be in rehab and unable to drive for a minimum of 12 weeks. So, realistically it’s looking like sometime in January which thrills Stella because he will have lots of bed time and blankets for her to cuddle in.

For us, this will likely curtail the kinky dynamic to a degree but I know he will continue to expect me locked which will be nice because I plan to ground myself and work from hime during most of whichever month this occurs. The good news here too though is that one of those unwritten benefits of an open marriage and him having two boyfriends is that they will get to help too and will have already seen him naked, which was the main drawback as to why most of our friends weren’t asked to hang out with us in the initial days after the first surgery.

So, that is my raw, naked week and while it has very little to do with an open marriage, Thumper, chastity or the like, I also wanted to disclose it to simply say that, because I fear I have left a negative mark on the openness of late and that is entirely not the intent and there was indeed a backstory added to the weirdness around the threesome. Make sense?

Tonight I think I will post some sort of scantily clad picture of me, one or two of Thumper’s metal penis, and maybe even a surprise or two just to get this blog back on happier times as I know you all miss delightful Drew probably as much as I do!

Fucking Kimmy Schmidt

Hi. It’s Drew. Remember me?

It feels like forever since I have written a post and it’s just been one of those weeks where I could not think of anything to write about. It hasn’t been a bad week at all, just busy and I have had an aversion to writing ANYTHING, texts included, which is especially sad because I have three huge reports all due next Friday that I could have been working on this week. But, I didn’t and I will get them in. Somehow. The good news is I have channeled that into working out, watching baseball and watching my newest discovery of Netflix, The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt. It’s a silly little show by Tina Fey that has just made me laugh all week.

My mood is way better thanks to the pill that got my hormone level out of manapause rather quickly and I am no longer extremely sensitive and baby kitten like weak. The side effect of that is a raging horniness that has not been felt in awhile and I am rather enjoying that, even though Axel is far away and Thumper is out in the woods without internet access all week. On that note, it was funny, last week when all the mood drama hit me and he and I were still in the “is he repulsive?” stages of his bisexuality (yes, I said we, commenters, because Axel tells me that when the “r word” is mentioned that people go through things together, but, his layers of sexuality do have a direct impact on me so it’s appropriate) I rather worried about if I did miss him would that be weird or some other kind of shit like that, but, life is life and I have missed him this week and look forward to his return to my day to day world. Simple as that. We keep each other company, or, mostly, he keeps me company and updated on world news and baseball while I am out and about so that’s nice. Also, this week my work colleague who I text with about 37 times a day has been on vacation and Axel is crazy busy, so I really have zero excuses for not getting my work done aside from fucking Kimmy Schmidt.

Axel and I have not yet had the chastity and discipline talk we have been planning to have, but that has been due to some schedules that have been weirder than normal and a particular client he has been working with that has troubled us both all week. I think I will actually post about that situation separately because it’s something that deserves it’s own spotlight rather than being buried in the middle of a long post about really nothing.

That said, one thing I want to address is last week in the post where I discussed that I was having trouble finding my sub space, I mentioned that Axel and I were on the edge of taking a bigger step toward a different kind or level of chastity than we had in the past and I wondered if I was nervous about that. I was not really meaning that the new device I will be ordering in a few weeks was going to change everything, but a few people thought that in the comments and, while I addressed it there, I want to reiterate that a bit here too.

Thumper mentioned,

The Steelheart was going to do the trick, but didn’t. A Steelwerks device will do the trick, but will it? I don’t know. He’s been through a lot of devices and none of them have worked for whatever reason”. 

This was followed by him also saying,

“Besides any unresolved behavioral/relationship/dynamic issues (none of which am I privy to, BTW) or perhaps wanting the *idea* of chastity more than the reality for whatever reason (he’s really into the shiny baubles with ceramic knobs), Drew’s lifestyle is really poorly suited to the long-term enforced dynamic. Possible, but such a bigger hassle. And, IMO, until Axel really puts his foot down about it, I don’t know that it’ll ever reach critical mass.”

When he wrote that, he texted me that I was likely not going to like his comment and that it was approaching an area that he and I had not talked about. This is true on the talked about area because it’s is hard for us, him specifically, to see me as the switch I am, so I sometimes leave some of the details out of details because, me being a sub is the last place I want his mind to go during the times when I need him focused. As for me not liking it, nah, I thought it was pretty spot on, but also shows that I have not done a good job of educating those around me, even my boyfriend, about what it is that Axel and I want to accomplish by this change in the dynamic.

First and foremost, unless I ever change jobs or find myself grounded for an extended period of time, Axel and I will never have anything close to what Thumper and Belle have, nor do I think we want it that way. We see the chastity as a prelude to very good sex and, in Axel’s mind, because he likes my penis a great deal, very good sex involves me being unlocked, so I will not be denied in the way that many crave. Would I like that? maybe, but it’s simply not an option for us, so we don’t even think about it. It’s more of a game at times and right now, that is working aside from the fact I do not have a device that I find very comfortable for the long term due to my PA, the size tube I need, and other issues. We LOVE the idea of him owning my dick and that was accomplished with the his “request” (i.e. demand) I get the PA first and now with that locking barbell that I no longer even carry an emergency key to, so we accomplished that and he is beginning to refer to it as “his”, etc. I love that. The lockup, however, at least for the time being, is going to be something we do when I am home at all times and when I am traveling at specific times. This will allow my sex to be controlled which, in return, will drive my sex drive through the roof – something that is often hard to have happen when I am tired all the time from never being in the same place each week.

The device itself, well, yes, it’s going to be an investment but we are looking at it like the wedding ring we never spent money on. In fact, I looked last night and mine cost $22 and his was $28 when we bought them on Amazon in 2013 when the first SCOTUS ruling occurred, so it’s not like we went all out. This device, which I can’t wait to show you the design ideas we have been batting back and forth to Canada, is going to be unique for me, fit to me, and, though chosen by me for comfort and design, approved by Axel which will make me proud to wear it. I know that we could do what we are doing with a Holy Trainer or, gasp, God forbid a CB6000, but, I consider us lucky enough to not have to take that route so I look forward to the adventure to get it and the adventures long after it is made.

Now, I have one minute until I have to go present a presentation to 28 strangers, so I need to quickly get my mindset off of this and in a more “neutral” place.

Think dead puppies, Drew. Dead puppies. Dead puppies. Old women having sex. Dead puppies.

Okay, that worked…

Open Marriage and Boyfriend Sex

So this week I am wandering through Pennsylvania conflicted about life, work, the world, and how the stupidity of some people continue to amaze me.

Regarding life, work, and I guess the world, it’s very weird right now because they have all collided in a way that is not making me happy with any of them nor is it particularly making me angry or sad either. It’s just “unsettled” and I don’t do that well if you haven’t picked up on that already. The job is the job and it ebbs and flows as anyone who also bills by the hour understands. I am having a particularly good month, but some of my colleagues are not, thus causing all sorts of drama that doesn’t really matter to me, yet just creates email exchanges that make my stomach turn with worry at times.

The bigger issue in this category is that Axel and I are both still very, very unsettled.

I feel like I have to give some sort of preamble here that Axel and I will be fine and I am beyond certain about that, but we are just in one of those places where all couples go at times where our interest in each other keeps getting sidelined by events,  emotions, and about eight pounds between us that we have each gained (me 3 him 5) which send those sexy feelings to the back burner. It all started with me returning from Australia in a jet lagged fog and then leaving again in 36 hours only to come home to the disaster weekend that I blogged about. Add to that the suicide of a client last week and, unfortunately, the attempted suicide of another yesterday (there is almost always a second attempt as an attention thing- always), and the man is just emotionally spent. Unfortunately, all of this hit at the same time the Steelheart arrived, the timing of which was supposed to be the “official marking point” of the shift in our relationship, so that has just added another element to this which is beyond our control. We are also both the type of people who will mourn for the plan that didn’t happen while shouldering the responsibility  of the “failure” versus just making a new plan. That is stupid, but just us, and while we know better, it is what it is. So, it’s just bad timing and there has been no sex, not even light petting. Just really no interest on either side, which, again, happens. The groove is starting to come back and hopefully by the time I get home later in the week we will be fucking like bunnies again.

Now, all of that up there out of the way, I still continue to smile every day about how this open marriage thing is working out. Granted, I think it’s more than just the open marriage because it’s also the particulars about how, and especially who, is involved in this particular openness. In our case, what made me really smile Sunday night, while laying in bed trying to force ourselves to go to sleep early since I had to go to the airport at 4am, we started to get a bit flirty, a tad touchy, but the erections were just not there (well, his at least, mine was covered). We just laughed about not having the energy or the current drive (which in itself is pretty damn cool when you think about it) and then Axel said, “Well, a year ago I would have been feeling horrible about not giving you great sex right now because of everything, but, the good news is I am just assuming that you had (and will have) great sex with Thumper, so there’s a ton of pressure off of me. How funny is that? Fuck him well, husband” He went on to say that if I needed to take an extra trip to use up some energy it was fine with him. Of course, he knows it doesn’t work that way schedule wise and he knows I wouldn’t, but the sheer fact he said that made me swoon a bit. Regarding that too, Thumper and I seem to have found an interesting new groove in the long distance, D/s, boyfriendship thing and we are just rolling along groovily. There might even be a third blog out there if anyone is interested in searching that clue for the hidden immunity idol (yes, yes, I still love Survivor). Just sayin’.

Actually, I either tweeted or wrote here last week about Axel saying that Thumper is now “just a part of our extended family” and about the comfort level with which his name now comes up – an act that is paralleling in a similar yet very different way in Thumper’s house – but it’s very true and, to quote Shaggy from Scooby Doo, that’s “neato”. It’s baseball season and Axel being a former pitcher, Thumper being a GIANT fan (though not a Giants fan), and me being in the middle and now a fan too is rather a cute thing because, when timing allows, the three of us have watched several games together with Axel next to me on the sofa, Thumper and I texting, and all three of us going back and forth with each other about the game and/or questions. It’s been suggested that Axel be included and it become a group text, but that was quickly nullified because Thumper and I realized that we would have to clean up our conversation and, at the same time, Axel realized we would have to clean up our conversation, so that idea died as fast as it started.

Finally, my third point in this update post is about the stupidity of some of our fellow blog friends who continue to send me messages about “turning Thumper gay” as if I can be contracted out to do the same to their significant other. It’s crazy because, one just assumes people would know that can not happen, right? And, if it could, I am evidently a huge failure because even Belle is now calling me out, and laughing, about my lack of skill in that department so it’s a no go people. Being gay is clearly is a choice one makes for themselves when they check that extra little box on their first library card and, once that is done, there is no changing it. It’s your permanent record, folks. Nobody fucks with that!

(disclaimer: yes, yes, that was a joke about the choice and the library card. My straight or gay survey came in the mail with my gay card application and invoice for the dues – being Double Gold Star has it’s privileges)

Relationship Dustiness and Drama Queens

So, I have been an ass the last two days. Thumper called me a drama queen. I prefer ass. A big ass.

Unfortunately, this has put a huge strain on my relationship with Axel this weekend. However, fortunately, since he doesn’t read this blog, I can say that it’s without a doubt 100 percent of his fault. Maybe even 110 percent.

As it’s no secret that I have a dominant personality within everyday life and with my boyfriend sexually, with my husband, I have always had a desire to be more submissive to him. He and I have been going along this path swimmingly well and, as he had requested, he asked me to take a step back in managing, or over-managing as some might call it, the day to day aspects of our household especially given that I am almost always somewhere else because he liked that idea of having that role in our domestic relationship.

As I said, this, along with his growing dominance of me sexually and domestically has been going great and was really getting to a place where I felt it beginning to just become a natural part of my core. Until yesterday. The day I will forever call the day Drew emasculated Axel, yelled at a Nurse, became covered in white dust, and, perhaps, added my name to a list of potential kidnap victims by a Mexican gang (or maybe a Chinese one).

The issue that caused all of this was stone. Ironic only because Thumper’s theme of the week was also stone, just a vastly different kind.

We needed new countertops in our kitchen. Even after a renovation a few years back, this was something we had put off until we had enough bonus cash from my annual, well, bonus, to be able to splurge a little and get the good stuff. This was a project that, frankly, we had both looked forward to for about fifteen years and this month was the month. Thursday, in fact, was THE INSTALL DAY. Because life has been what it has been for us and because of our new dynamics, I left this up to Axel as this is something I typically would have been all over every spec of piece by piece. By that, I mean we picked out the stone and sink together, the fancy new faucet that you just have to wave your hand in front of to turn on or make a fist to turn off, and even the color caulk that would be used, together.

However, the new Drew left all the details of the measuring appointments up to Axel as well as the install dates and times where he would make sure he would be the one here to take care of everything. That was hard on the newer, domestically submissive Drew, but I understood and, in reality, that is so what I do want in order to help lower both of our stress levels, thus increasing our desire levels, my submissive state, his dominant state, and our newly improved sex life.

So, spoiler alert, it’s now two days after the initial install and I am now sitting on my front porch while a crew of workers remove everything they did Thursday and replace it with all new everything. The old Drew not only came back, but he came back breathing fire, unfortunately. I knew something was not right Thursday night when Axel sent me a picture and said “looks good, but they cracked the stone all the way across by the sink, but it’s okay, they fixed it. You can hardly tell. Plus, it’s really dirty in here”. He said he was happy with it and signed the form and all was fine. New Drew was skeptical, but fine.

Friday morning, while I was at the airport on my way home, he texted again and said “Um, prepare yourself, it doesn’t look as good as I thought and, wow, they did make it dirty in here. I will call when they open”. New Drew still existed, but when he received a copy of the email from Axel to our sales guy showing the pictures, well, he and every bit of sexual submissiveness he had vanished.

To cut to the chase, and, to his credit, Axel had already arranged that they were going to replace the stone but, in the passive way Axel has that I am often jealous of, he didn’t bother to ask when or how. I was very happy with that, despite the unknown factors, and new Drew sparked a bit. However, I soon came home to find 2 inches of dust on almost every single inch of the entire downstairs of my house and about an inch on every surface upstairs. Adding to this was the crack that was allegedly covered up, looked like someone had taken a sharpie and a glue stick to it, a dishwasher that wasn’t anchored, a floor tile had been broken, and there was a board still nailed to the outside of my lower cabinets – the ones that face the dining room. Old Drew was back and with a vengeance. Oh, oh, the fancy ass faucet, wobbled.

I did call Axel and ask if I could call the company that did it and take over and he willingly obliged. While on hold, I tried really, really, super really hard not to be mad at him for not noticing these tiny details or not thinking that one should cover up the doors and cabinets when one’s work crew is cutting a hole in stone for a sink WHILE INSIDE – even if one has two Masters and a Doctorate degree and is clearly wise in the world, but I could not. I was angry and him, at the place that did it, and at my job for not allowing me to be home more. (FYI – this is about the time Thumper texted me calling me a drama queen) (I will get revenge -said in a queen like voice mind you). 

I ranted and raved about the quality with the installer people, who unfortunately mostly spoke Spanish and oddly one who only spoke Mandarin, which I only tried a bit of with her, and finally wound up with them bringing in a crew to work overtime last night and to be here at 9am today, Saturday, to redo everything. Axel went to work this morning and I sat here, fuming again, until they showed up at 11:15.

So, ALL THAT, for me to ask advice. We made up last night, even watched a Dodgers game side by side on the couch while texting with Thumper who was watching the same game (another story for another time because how cool is that in Open Relationship Land?) but I found myself seeing him as weak for not being the alpha and taking charge of the situation and for allowing me to walk all over him to get it the work that needed to be done, done immediately so we can spend tonight cleaning and moving on with the weekend. I am still there in my head, and the thought of sexually submitting to him right now just does not make me quiver in any way. I know I am still mad and that might go away soon, but I let him lose the “power” spot I had for him in my mind and I am now afraid it won’t come back.

I know I will feel better when the literal dust settles, but any advice in the interim?

I understand that one being in one role or the other does not mean that fights or disagreements won’t be had and I also know that we have clearly never stated the fact or even thought the fact that being submissive means you automatically lose an argument, but it just sucks that this hit now, right here, as things were moving forward.

I know that 12 hours from now we will have cleaned the house (or if my Facebook friends who have Angie’s List have come through, hired someone to clean the house) and I think I will be in a better mindset when I literally don’t feel dirty everywhere (this is made worse by the fact it’s pollen season in the south and everything is coated in yellow dust). In fact, I feel better having just gotten this out, as I often do about most things I write about. So, time will tell and I think all will be fine.

In other news, I see the rabbit for a day and a half this week and am very excited. It’s been the longest gap of time away we have had, but what is also funny is that is not anything I have thought about which shows me nothing but good in the evolution of things. He’s been feeling better lately and his tumbling has increased, but even if he’s not feeling “it” yet, I don’t care as it will be good to just “be”.

Happy weekend.

P.S. – The yelling at a nurse part – which I am adding just for fun. During the middle of this, I stopped to get my weekly shot and was greeted by the nurse who always loudly says “Hey ‘name'” which is a childlike version of my real name that only my Mother and Axel call me. He has done this for four years and I have cringed inside each time; however, yesterday was his mistake.

Let’s just leave it at that.

Masculinity vs Manliness vs Submission

A month or so ago I posted about somehow feeling less manly surrounding having my orgasm controlled. Thumper and others jumped on me about this – in both good and bad ways – and I did re-caliper my thinking around that and realized that they were right, that the act of being denied or being controlled does not make one less manly at all. I get that. I really do.

That said, the last few weeks I have had a nagging thought in my head that has really come to the surface this week about my manliness in general and how, if any, my deeper dive into submission is affecting this level. Frankly, I don’t think it has much to do with it at all, but rather my questioning is just part of the natural aging process and due, likely, to my new exposure out of the almost exclusively gay world I have realized I isolated myself in. To be clear, I am not talking about masculinity. I realize that most dictionaries would say that masculinity and manliness are the same thing, but in this situation, I am breaking them apart.

For me, masculinity is rather natural (pause for the joke from Thumper here). I am a big guy in that big guy way. I am not fat but I ain’t little either. My voice is deep and I carry myself rather mightily when I need to and I cannot be graceful to save my life. However, manliness, in this context, is something I have never really had a traditional stronghold in and, frankly, it has never bothered me until recently. By this, I mean that I am not one to always read a sports page first. I am not outdoorsy, and I don’t wear flannel well at all. In my garage sit a German SUV and a German sports sedan versus a giant truck or a more practical Honda and I have always preferred to do the dishes versus take out the trash. I’ve never intentionally gone the the store in sweatpants and would rather die before wearing a sleeveless shirt even to the gym. I have always been sensitive and cared deeply for those in my world and admitted that to them without shame. That’s just me and always has been.

However, over the past few months, that traditional me has been evolving as I have been looking at trucks, enjoying pre-season baseball, and, just yesterday, wore sweatpants to Target. I even took my shirt off in my car this week, just because.

I’ve allowed myself to question whether real manly men would be feeling the way I do when I get lonely on the road or miss Thumper or my other friends when we don’t connect on schedule, because, in my wrongly thought out mind, missing buddies and feeling unconnected are not associated with manliness. I know that is very very wrong and my need to connect is just who I am and these people I am talking about already know those things and deal with them.

The question in my head has been, why?

At first, I was very quick to blame these thoughts on being subjugated by my husband, by my choice though, or by giving him the control of my penis. I allowed myself to fall victim to the being submissive means you are weaker trap and I have been struggling to find my way out of this even though I know it’s absolutely false while also struggling to actually allow it to happen.

I know this is 100 percent false because, as you might have heard, I have seen Thumper in some really primal submissive places but not once, not even for a second, did I ever think of him as any weaker than when he walked in the door in his business attire with his man bag two hours before. I have always seen him as power and submission together, which is one of the things I think is sexy about him. However, even seeing that and knowing that, I have not been able to figure out why I was not able to apply that same logic to myself and allow myself to climb out of the false subbie box of weakness I had fallen in. This has been an area I have just wanted to sit down and discuss with him, as he is my Manliness Consultant, but time has not been our friend this week and this isn’t a text-able thing.

In addition, and to be absolutely candid, the last few months have been the first time, ever, I have questioned not having children. I have felt a void I didn’t know was there in a sense and have wondered if it was the growing older factor, the impending illness of my mother and seeing my role in her care and thinking ahead, or if I just, finally, wanted to go throw a baseball with my kid. It’s been an odd thing, frankly, because, up until now, I have never given it a second thought.

However, tonight I realized that my questioning of my manliness was truly indeed tied to my new levels of submission, kinkiness, and even switchiness, but just not in the way I naturally assumed.

Turns out, I have decided that it has nothing to do with my soon to be encased penis or, for that matter, even Axel at all. It has to do with, well, this.  I have realized that as I have explored this side of me and made new friends, I have accidentally officially come out of my big, sparkly, glittery gay shell and, for the first time in my adult life, I am truly inside the homes and bedrooms of Thumper, my Chicago friends, my New Zealand friend and others who all have these wonderful lives that are so different from the same old two men and a dog groups of guys I have been around for twenty years. Don’t get me wrong, I love my fabulous flaming friends and have an amazing life, but through these open posts, Twitter, and by having a biflexipan boyfriend with a wife and kids, I am now seeing so much more about how life works with other people. So many more variations of love and happiness, and so many things that I knew was there but just generally lacked inside knowledge of the day to day-ness of it.

So, how does this tie into the manliness questioning? Well, I realized that at 45 years old, this is the first time I am making real friendships with straight-ish men and that I am really enjoying it. Don’t get me wrong, I have always had straight male friends, but I have never had the type of relationships with them that I am enjoying now where we talk about life, sex with our spouses – my male one included, where I can ask about breast sizes and vaginas without shame and where I have a true glimpse into the bonding that two men can share and, because these men are open enough, I can talk about the same things with them and give them a glimpse into the same, often boring world, of a same sex marriage. I have decided that the truck thinking, the sports page reading, and outdoorsy envy are just side effects of the exposure that may go away or, if they don’t, such as with baseball, then I am and will be a better man for it. I liken this to when Friends first aired and I was a 20 something who suddenly decided all of the friends in my life were not pretty or quirky enough and I wanted  to go live in a coffee shop in New York. That didn’t last, but elements of it did such as the picture frame I always have on the back of a door and this giant coffee table I am not sitting in front of, but I am a better man for knowing it and having been exposed to it.

I’ve been too hard on myself recently, but through all these things I have realized that admitting my need to submit is really just another expression of me understanding myself and my relationship and nothing more. In fact, all of these things, are just growing pains and were likely to happen with or without a collar. Many of these posts have been about me vowing this or that and MOST I am sticking to such as the gym, trying to be naked more, and feeling free enough to express myself when needed. So, let’s just add this one to the list as I will now officially stop the self questioning and allow my former self and my new self to blend into what I am thinking will be this big ole mix of switch with a metal dick attached.