Swinging in the Deep End Part 2: Anxiety Strikes Back

A recent trip to Portland to see a favourite long distance play partner found me in the midst of a giant play party linked to the local polyamory conference. I was very nervous about the party because I’d never been to anything like it before and I would also be attending with Will rather than Flick. Several days before I headed south I’d awoken to a feeling of dread and panic about the party but after talking through it with Will, I felt calmer and ready to tackle the challenge. Creeping into my brain regularly was the failure at the play party at Desire Resort & Spa in November, so wanted to get this one right. Spoiler alert: I didn’t get it right.

We were staying in the house where the party was located and Will and I discussed how we’d attend together. I’d be his date and we’d find some fun together, but as opportunities presented themselves, we’d play separately as well. I knew it was going to be tricky since I am much more insecure with people I don’t see often. Although I was excited for him to connect with people and have sexy experiences, I knew the jealousy thing would be more of a factor than it is with Flick, and it was. I felt extraneous and in the way of him finding fun so I pulled way back, and essentially avoided him. It was not the right call for me.

There are so many little pieces that contributed to the night turning into a disaster for me.

• I was in a new space in an unfamiliar city
• The party was huge and full of people I didn’t know
• The first guy I met was creepily sexual
• The ‘house’ rules for play were confusing with regards to where and how you could play - and then most people seemed to ignore the rules
• There was a speed meet-n-greet instead of relaxed welcome circle
• I was drained from peopling more than I normally do from previous 2 days
• We’d been running from event to event without time for adequate meals or downtime
• I felt insecure with regards to Will’s desire for me versus his desire for new experiences and new people.

I didn’t want to be sloppy drunk or unable to consent, so I watched my wine consumption a little too carefully, but I did a pretty good job of socializing at the beginning of the night. I chatted a bunch with people in the kitchen who I’d connected with the previous day and I expressed my clear interest in playing with someone who had been flirty over the course of the conference and he was an enthusiastic yes. I joined in as my group headed to the hot tub under the giant cedar trees outside and had an hour of fabulous conversation with new friends, but when we eventually headed back inside and I spotted Will with his arms around a gorgeous woman, panic began to set in. I had to get out of there.

I approached Will and his sexy companion, but instead of feeling like I’d be a welcome addition to their circle, like I belonged there, deserved to be there, I felt like an intruder, especially as she moved off almost immediately. I told Will I was feeling overwhelmed and was heading to our room, and asked him to check on me in a bit. He agreed to do so and we had a quick kiss before I essentially sprinted from the room.

This was the big opportunity to have done something very different and had a very different outcome than the panic attack spiral. Thanks to messing it up royally, though, I learned a valuable lesson, which should have been more obvious from the previous night when Will had bent me over the bed for a hard and fast fuck before we rushed off to dinner.

“Do you feel more centred?” he’d asked me as we quickly rearranged our clothes, hearing our host on the stairs.

“Oh yes!” I’d sighed happily, no longer in my head but relaxed and settled thoroughly in my body.

Unfortunately, in the midst of the play party, I didn’t have the wherewithal to ask Will to ‘Kiss me back into my body’ so I fled the room before my building panic became tears.

I dodged through the maze of bodies in the large open space outside our room and realized the lovely french doors did little to dampen sound. I put in earplugs then my headphones and watched a loud, silly movie to drown out conversation and moans. I felt so ridiculous hiding in the giant king size bed alone and let the tears come hard and fast. You’re a voyeur! I told myself If nothing else, go watch what other people are up to. But I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. The panic was too strong for any sensible thoughts to cut through.

I took a sedative, figuring I could just knock myself out, but unfortunately, all that did was knock me out for long enough to be asleep when Will to checked on me, so I didn’t realize he had, and when the movie ending woke me up, I saw the time and was all hurt that he hadn’t checked in. He probably did while you were sleeping and didn’t want to wake you. You know there’s no way he’d abandon you, my sensible brain told me. I’m all alone. Why doesn’t anyone want to be with me? Anxious spiral brain countered. You’re the one that is hiding. How can anyone be with you while you’re hiding?

Many more tears ensued until my need to pee overrode my fear of running the gauntlet of bodies outside my door. I even eyed the travel mug next to the bed rather than risking the dreaded world outside my room but apparently not peeing in a cup trumped risking people. I could hear Will and a woman chatting so I crept out, seeing him lying back on the couch as one of the gorgeous gals I’d been perving on all weekend knelt on the floor before him. They spotted me and called out but my face was so tear streaked, I sprinted to the bathroom before they could really see me. I heard them complimenting my robe and talking about how cute I am as I closed the door behind me and began to weep so hard I thought I might vomit. What the fuck is wrong with you? They’re into you. Go out there and join them. Nope.

Bladder emptied, face washed temporarily free of tears but quickly gaining new ones, I arranged my hair over my eyes and hoped I could get back into the room before they saw me.

“Kat. She was just talking about you,” Will said with a smile, but I just couldn’t. I laughed a ‘sure she was’ laugh and closed the door behind me on his, “Okaaaaayy.”

Now they hate you. Great job.

The weeping turned to wailing at this point so I put a pillow over my head to dampen the sound, though the blaring music would likely have covered any noise I could have made. Cut this out. You haven’t ruined everything. They want you there. Get over yourself! All the Nope! I shouldn’t have come. What was I thinking telling myself I could do this? I can’t do this! I have to cancel all of our upcoming trips including Desire, and break up with all my partners, because clearly I’m not cut out for non-monogamy. I’m so alone!

When Will came to bed I was cried out and the panic had abated enough that I had dozed on and off. We snuggled for a bit but once he fell asleep and rolled over I was left to my thoughts in the giant bed. We talked the next morning, and had some good connected time during our final day together, but both of us were kind of quiet and subdued. My brain was lying when it said that I wrecked everything between us but it definitely changed things.

I’ve revisited the events of the evening over and over and over (and over) in my brain, trying to figure out how to fix it all. Alas, fixing past fuck ups isn’t possible, but I did learn some important lessons.

If I am going to an event with someone other than Flick, I need to ensure we have a clear plan for connecting with each other and talk about it in detail, and check in regularly. If I’d done so with Will and been reassured of his desire to spend time with me and play with me with others, I wouldn’t have been as primed for panic as I was when things began to go off.

“Anchor me!” This is the phrase I’ve come up with to ask a trusted someone to help me get back into my body, either through kissing or biting (or perhaps even fucking if that is an appropriate option). I’m going to teach it to my various partners as an anxiety safeword. For situations where my closer partners aren’t around, I’m planning to use the phrase, “Kiss me back into my body” to request assistance to derail the panic spiral.

Failing agonizingly hard at the play party was yet Another Fucking Opportunity for Growth. I keep hoping I won’t have to learn these lessons so painfully, but it’s the painful ones that stick. If there’s any chance anyone else can learn from my fuckups, even better. Sharing is caring.

Reconnecting with Sexy Friends: Weekend in Seattle

We met so many amazing people at  Swingset Takes Desire trip in November, yet very few of them live anywhere near us on the wetcoast. We were thrilled to find out that Wes and Raina, a couple we clicked with very well at Desire Resort and Spa, were coming to Seattle, only a couple hours away from us. Hooray!

After having an intense connection when we met, Wes and I had been texting almost daily, having Skype dates when we could, and building a poly relationship. I occasionally panic at how quickly things have progressed, but really like him, so work to keep my natural resistance to ‘feelings’ in check.

Wes and I had a bunch of fun chatting online, picking a hotel, though room and bed configuration were tricky. We were definitely getting separate rooms because a) they were travelling with another friend who would not be part of the shenanigans and b) I’m a super-introvert and would likely be huddled in a corner rocking and sobbing if I spent that much non-stop time with people over a weekend. We wanted to spend one night together with the 4 of us in one room, so we eventually decided on queen sized beds, since though kings are fun for the sexing, 4 people in a bed are not going to get any sleep.

Flick and I packed a huge bag of toys, condoms, gloves, dams, throes, lube, and harnesses. I felt some pangs as always about crossing into the US with that stuff. I have no issues being a pervert, but I have worries about being denied entry into the US (possibly forever) for being a pervert. “We don’t need your maple-scented filth here, ma’am!”

Did you not know Canadians smell like maple syrup? Because we totally do.

We arrived at the hotel several hours before Wes & Raina, and managed to stay awake late enough for a quick kiss and cuddle with them before we separated to pass out for the night. In the morning, we met them and their friend Connor for breakfast, enjoying mimosas and tasty food as we planned our day of touristy adventures.

I have to confess that I was super nervous about spending intense time with other people over a weekend. I need a lot of solo time after a busy work week to recharge my introvert batteries. When we’d gone to Whistler in the fall with Hot Mama, her hubby, and baby, I kept having to go for walks in the woods to stop from going crazy from all the people. I’m not my best self in that environment and can get rather hostile. Highly motivated by sex with Wes and Raina, I was willing to give the trip a go despite my nerves (our Whistler trip had been sex free due to cock-blocking baby, other than for Flick and Hot Mama while both myself and Hot Papa [and baby] were out on separate introvert walks).

The four of us had a great time playing tourist in Seattle the way I never have previously. We did the Underground Seattle tour and it was fun hanging out and holding hands with Wes as we walked. I don’t do much in the way of PDAs at home, since it’s a pretty small city and chance of running into someone Flick & I know is pretty high. I realized as I instinctively touched and smooched Flick as well as Wes, that perhaps the other people in our tour group might have been wondering what was going on with the four who seemed to be swapping cuddle partners regularly. Well, they were probably thinking (accurately!) that we were a bunch of dirty perverts.

We headed back to the hotel in the late afternoon to clean up in our separate rooms before our 4-way sexy date. Taking Dan Savage’s advice to Fuck First, we planned to get our sexy on before going for a late dinner.

Once Flick and I were clean and ready to go, I was suddenly very nervous again. It seems to be a phenomenon for me before dates that I kind of freak out for a bit, start trying to think of reasons to cancel, how I could get out of it, flee before anyone gets there.  I just thought it happened before solo dates and when Flick has been around to witness it at home, he thought it was something I had against him. When he saw it happen even before a duo date with people I’ve slept with before, he realized it was just part of my process. He ran to the liquor store across the street for some wine to calm me the fuck down.

Some deep breaths and some blessed vino got me to a better headspace and once Wes and Raina arrived, mouths and hands quickly stripped me of my nerves, and my clothes, and fun, happy Kat was back. Once we’d worn ourselves out with the orgasms, we drove into downtown Seattle for a really nice dinner, then returned to the hotel and snuggled up two to a bed for sleep. It was the first night I’ve spent with a partner, which was kind of a big deal. As I lay awake reading (sleeping? Who me?), I heard three sets of breathing change into light snores and I got to reflect on all the choices and coincidences that brought us all to that place together. It was a pretty great place to be.

Guys are like Ah and Gals are like Oo

“being bisexual and having different feelings when ur attracted to guys than when u are to girls is so hard to explain bc being attracted to a guy is like “ah” and being attracted to a girl is like “oo” but that doesn’t make any sense to anyone but me” - http://decaheda.tumblr.com/post/124272551727/being-bisexual-and-having-different-feelings-when

I don’t know how to flirt with women.

From what I understand, this is a very typical experience for pan/bisexual women who have mostly dated men. Our heteronormative sex and dating lives don’t teach us the skills to connect with women beyond friendship. Everything we’re exposed to in media and culture also emphasizes how different men and women are in our communication and sexual desires, and although I really appreciate direct sexual advances, I’ve been taught that other women don’t. Maybe that’s not true, though, but I don’t have enough experience to know better.

I’ve always been into women. Well, as long as I’ve known it was a thing for me to be possible to be into, I’ve known. And thinking back to my childhood of sneaking into my older brother’s room to look at the porno mags in his closet and get especially titillated by the gal on gal action, I was into women before I knew it was a thing.

Growing up in a small town in northern Canada I’d heard the term lesbian whispered by schoolmates but knew it didn’t apply to me because I liked boys. Boy, did I like boys! Clearly I wasn’t a lesbian, so I didn’t think anything of those ‘feelings’ I had. I had a lot of stirrings in my late teens/early twenties but it wasn’t until Flick and I started dating, and he was so open to me sharing my fantasies, that it became something I talked about, and the word bisexual* came into play.

*Little note here that I tend to use the term pansexual now, since gender is not binary, and I know many bisexuals say that the term bisexual means ‘more than one sex’, but the pedant in me can’t help but argue that Bi means two! Anyway, I’m cool with people using whatever term fits for them, pansexual is my preference. I was oblivious of the sexual/gender politics of all this until last year, when I burst forth from my monogamy bubble, and described myself as bisexual until very recently.

Flick was open enough to support me exploring with women in the early days of our marriage since we’d paired up so young that I hadn’t had the opportunity or confidence to do said exploration before we met. I spent a few nights with a couple equally curious friends, and it was fun and lovely and sexy, but once I’d settled the craving for the unknown, established that yes, I did like sex with women, but it wasn’t something I couldn’t live without, it was back to monogamy as usual.

When we opened up last year, it started with a threesome with one of our friends. It was awesome, so sexy, and I was really into being with her, but switching back to platonic when we weren’t in the bedroom has been effortless. The same goes with the other women we’ve played with. I think they’re super sexy, we have a great time enjoying each other’s bodies, but it’s never gone beyond that. I figured that was my level of queer--into sex with women but nothing beyond that.

I’ve definitely met a few women that I’m quite smitten with *waves at Elle and Raina*, but I find I’m kind of intimidated by them, and my brain goes into this “Pretty! *giggle* Can’t. Talk.” shutdown mode, and I haven’t figured out how to break through. If we went out on a date, I would have no idea what to say. I just don’t know how to talk or flirt with the ladies.

I tried going on a date with a woman from okcupid when Flick and I first opened up last year. It seemed to go fairly well, but she wasn’t into me so I concluded I was bad at women and decided not to pursue any further female dating connections. As everyone knows, if you fail once, you never ever try again. I’m pretty sure that’s the common theme in most Life Success handbooks... Anyway, I decided that although I was pansexual, I must be heteroromantic when it came to relationships. Men I was good at. I’d stick with men.

My whole paradigm shifted recently when I met Iris.

We met through the dating website Kasidie after Cooper Beckett, wingman extraordinaire, pointed her our direction. After the usual schedule wrangling, and delays due to the holidays, we met for drinks in our default date pub, and within an hour, the three of us were making out at the table as the rest of the patrons played Trivia Night around us. I felt a spark with her that I haven’t experienced with a woman before, enough of a spark to tamp down my discomfort with makeout level PDAs.

Our first sexy date occured under the cloud of all three of us suffering from an horrific cold virus. The sexual charge was strong enough that we decided we’d go ahead with the date anyway, and despite sore throats and hacking coughs, we had a spectacular time, and planned immediately for our next.  

In between our dates, Iris and I flirted and sexted like crazy, in a way I never have with a woman (Iris and Flick did as well, but that was much more typical for our fmf dynamic). It felt easy, in a way it doesn’t normally when I’ve tried to flirt with women, perhaps because she was flirting with me at least as much. I send saucy pics back and forth with the other gals I play with, and we chat, but this is the first time I’ve received messages in the middle of my day from a woman saying she was thinking about the taste of my pussy. Um, sploosh!

Our next sexy date was even hotter, day sex at our place with the added frisson of knowing we were having vanilla people over for a party that evening after debauching all afternoon. She made me come with her mouth mere minutes into the proceedings while I sucked Flick’s cock, and the vision of her looking up at me, come dripping from her chin, streaking down her chest is going to be spankbank material for a long time.

I can’t quantify what is different with Iris, and I guess interpersonal chemistry is one of those things that is about as un-quantifiable as it gets, despite me always seeking to figure out the whys of attraction. She’s amazing--beautiful, smart, funny, and sexy--but so are the other women I play with. For some reason though, I have feelings toward her that have previously been reserved for guys. I can see us out on solo dinner dates, holding hands as we walk down rainy streets, and having solo playdates, as well as the awesome time we have as a trio with Flick.

It’s confusing and new and scary but awesome, and I’m so glad that this non-monogamy adventure has given me the opportunity to experience yet another first, my first real requited feels for a woman. I love that I’m getting to explore new pieces of my sexuality and queer identity, with Iris as catalyst.

If you need me, I’ll be over here, sexting and squeeing, and getting ready for where this journey might take me next.

Epiphany

I am special

I am awesome

I am beautiful

I am funny

I am sexy

I am weird

I am dorky

I am unique

I am amazing

I needed to create a list of things to say to myself to counter the messages I get from my brain telling me otherwise. It's a good list. And I'm proud to say that I believe the list. Most of the time.

If someone doesn't want me despite all those truths, it's not because I'm not _____ enough.  It is because of his preconceived ideas of what he wants, not any failing on my part. Much like auditioning for an acting job, I could totally kill the audition, but if I'm not exactly what he's looking for, I'm not booking the part.

In the past, I've done a lot of wallowing in the 'poor me' feels of the song 'I'm not that girl' from Wicked, but I've come to realize it isn't true. I AM that girl. He's not the right boy.

'Don't lose sight of who you are' is one of the sections of lyric that I've always taken to heart--don't kid yourself, you're not special enough, he might like you but he'd never pick you. My brain is an asshole!  But I've taken that lyric and reframed it and owned it. 

I won't lose sight of who I am. I won't cling to things that are LESS than I deserve.

I'm not that girl.

Swinging in Paradise - Desire Recap Part 3

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The Stress of Evolution

The Stress of Evolution

Recently, I've been exploring a little more into the realm of polyamory, rather than the Friends With Benefits (sexyfriends) relationships I've primarily had since Flick and I opened our relationship just over a year ago. I was looking for a little more connection than I was getting from my sexyfriends, but in a classic case of careful what you wish for I'm finding it...stressful.

There are so many awesome things about a closer connection with my partners. I really like chatting daily and knowing the minutia of what they're up to. I dig being part of their lives rather than getting the Cole's notes version (er, Cliff’s notes for American readers) every few weeks, but with that, I'm feeling the obligation to be engaged and engaging. I get the feeling that maybe I'm supposed to want more than I do, more chat time, more skype time, more date time.

With my sexyfriends we chat every few days to week to weeks. Once I realized it wasn't a sign of disinterest, I settled really well into that low-pressure type of communication. The occasional check in, saying hi when we felt like it, sending dirty pics, sexting a little, briefly finding out what was happening in their world, and setting up a meet where we get to talk about it in person, after the naked time.

With my poly partners I'm constantly trying to come up with interesting things to talk about and on days where I'm not up to being social, I get stressed about either trying to fake being a social being, or having to explain that I'm just not in a social space that day, followed up by reassurances of my interest. It’s kind of exhausting and I'm sure my partners are sick of hearing about my anxiety and introversion, but I feel like I need to regularly remind them that my wiring leads me to need to be alone a lot.

It always gets a lot worse when I'm feeling overextended and that has been what has felt like my permanent state of being recently. I can't seem to figure out how to truly get myself unwound, though I do yoga and meditation and copious masturbation. My "down time" alone time is often filled with tasks or communication, so I keep seeking more alone time to try to find that elusive recharge that I'm supposed to get from peace and quiet.

It may also just be that the poly thing is new, and I always freak out as my initial reaction to anything new before I'm able to find my way to acceptance and enjoyment. I haven't done it before and I don't know how to do it, and I don't do well when I don’t feel like I know what I'm doing. My partners have been really understanding and keep assuring me that going at my pace is okay, but I can't shake the feeling that I'm doing it all wrong.

I’m also so focused on doing it all with a healthy, accepting mindset even when I feel burdened or jealous or heartbroken by circumstances that come up in my relationships. I’m trying so hard to behave like an enlightened, grown-ass woman, when sometimes I want to throw such a wobbly, make unreasonable demands, and go on a rampage over the unfairness that is inevitable when you share partners with other people. (Lana, I said it was going to be a rampage!)

Maybe I've just taken on too many things. With two jobs, a business to run, a house to keep from falling to pieces, and a marriage to keep fun and sexy and supportive and healthy, maybe I need to give myself a break and not attempt to dive so quickly and deeply into the style of relationship that requires 'more'. The thing is, I really like the guys I'm seeing here and long distance, which drives me to want to provide the intense connection they're looking for.

Though as I typed out the last line, I realize that what they're looking for is a version of me who is happy and relaxed and who is really present when we have time together, and who is able to express when she needs to grab some more space for herself to help all the above happen.

Goddamn it! I'm going to have to use my words again, aren't I?