Not All That Scary

I mentioned last post, all hundred and thirty seven years ago that it was, that our daughter, Rachel, has moved.  Well, she went from the Southwest to the (very) upper Midwest.  They settled into a nice house with a great vibe and bones.  It’s a very different place from the glorified bungalow that is Casa Da Sam & Kate, but the vibe is similar.  It’s been around for a bit, will be around for a bit, and we’re each adding our chapters and energy into its boards and beams.

Our place has a decent amount of outside space, more than enough for Clifford and Billie, The Wonder Dogs, to avoid going completely crazy if we don’t get them out for a big run that day.  Rachel’s place has the same thing but for the 3 and 4 year old grand baby’s.

The big difference, beside location, is our place butts up against state land on a fairly steep mountain / ridge.  It being as steep as it is keeps the hunters away for the most part; it’s more or less square miles of woods as our back yard.  Rachel’s new home is in town.

Part and parcel of both our back yards are big ass trees.  Oaks and maples for Kate and I; cottonwoods for Rachel.  The universe and her cottonwoods are teaching her what a pain in the ass this time of the year can be when you share space with big ol hardwoods.

“Gross.” “Beautiful.” “Disgusting.” “Fun.” Are all descriptions she’s used for her backyard the last week or so, and they dovetail perfectly with Casa Da Sam & Kate’s backyard at the moment.  Our big maple has dropped probably 2/3 of it’s leaves to this point, most of that overnight a couple days ago; there’s a 3-4 inch deep layer of wet leaves over most of the backyard.  Heavy sigh.

It’s been a really pretty fall this year.  We had a couple week run of dry sunny weather, and some of the sunsets have been truly spectacular.  I don’t think I can ever tire of seeing the colors this time of year in that magical light that happens the last 10-15 minutes before the sun sets.

***

On to solo play. I’d define it in this context as one part of a couple fucking other people with the other part of the couple not involved on even there.  Kate playing solo was literally our first adventure, I’m pretty sure when it happens, the last time will be Kate solo again.

Sure, we’ve had our adventures swinging and I’m certainly no stranger to seeing Kate fuck other men. That said, there’s something, IDK, extra, with solo play.

A piece of it for me is my cuck headspace stems, at least partially, from abandonment rather than humiliation.  Me being abandoned by my birth mother and then adopted is the core wound of my life (sentences like that make me itch) and it’s been eroticized That feels waaaaay pathologized to me tho.  I get it, it’s in there and a piece, but making the leap from I’m adopted so therefore I’m a cuck is orders of magnitude too simple and lacking subtlety.

A big reason why I don’t think this is a huge driver is I’ve made peace with it.  I’ve done the work (some, there’s more) around it and hold my biological parents with love.  Well, at least her, all I know of him is that he wasn’t in the picture at all.  She did the best she could at the time, and I’m not who I am today without her decisions. Shit, I’m not here at all if she decided to terminate her pregnancy.

That’s a relatively recent development, and a HUGE piece of it happened 6-7 feet from where I’m writing this.  I had a talk on our porch with a young woman (from our recovery world, 100% platonic relationship) who faced the same choice and chose the same way my bio-mom did. It was eating her alive, and exactly the sort of thing that tends to push people in early recovery right back to the bottle or needle.

It was clear that her decision put the baby in a much better position than she would have been able to. I told her this and that it was the greatest act of love for that kid she could ever give it.  It wasn’t lost on me that cosmically, I was having this conversation with my bio mom and forgiving her while having it.  She gave that kid and off ramp from the life she could provide, just as my bio mom did me.  The post script is neither Kate nor I have heard of or from her in years at this point. Here’s hoping she’s somewhere safe, at peace and warm.

Well, that section of the post turned into a deeper rabbit hole than I thought it would.

***

A deeper than realized or intended rabbit hole is a pretty good metaphor for me and my relationship with being a cuck.

It may be difficult to imagine if you’ve been a regular reader of this fine fine blog, but…..when we started out, our girl Kate was a bit on the shy side; at least as far as I was concerned.  Her words now – “In the beginning I was more comfortable playing alone. I don’t mind playing in front of you at all now.” I’ll confirm both of those.  There wasn’t a specific event that brought our little wallflower out of her shell, it was experience over time.

Like all of us, Kate is a complex human and has multiple likes; she’s 100% not a sexual one trick pony.  What started as a way for her to manage her non-monogamous nature from her comfort zone has evolved.  Her solo play now tends to be more relational, more connected, more hang out and spend time with someone she genuinely likes and cares for.  That doesn’t preclude her walking into a party and connecting with one or several people for the night. As we’ve learned along our sobriety and Buddhist journeys, it can be both.

If we circle waaaaay back to when I was in Antarctica and Kate got on Tinder looking for other women to play with, that was a her thing.  It was about her having sexual time with another person, with out me involved. We’d both say that this period of time, us figuring out our ENM opening moves, while about as far apart as two people can be on Earth, was the horniest we’d ever been. For both of us, the idea of Kate exploring non-monogamy (I was well aware of that part of her by then) without my being involved made us hornier than a two peckered billy goat.

What worked for Kate and her comfort zone, 100% worked for me as well.

I’ve been fortunate, blessed even.  The relationship Kate and I share is a rare and precious thing; I don’t take her or us for granted.  I know from the people I’ve talked to, both face to face and online at the various sites and Reddit, that I’ve experienced a great many lifestyle related things many people haven’t had the opportunity to.

There’s nothing else in our lifestyle that is a better tonic for wonky headspace, or a bigger reinforcement of how strong our relationship is than Kate going off solo.  It’s never been “Our relationship sucks and you make me miserable” energy.  It’s been “I feel loved, safe, and trusted enough in our relationship to do this” energy.

***

We “met” a guy online from NYC a few years ago. As it turned out, everyone hit it off, and we decided that we should meet.  If memory serves the plan was to have a face to face meet and then he and Kate would go off for some one on one time with me joining them a bit later on.  Well, if that wasn’t the plan (I think it was) that’s what happened.

We met at the Starbucks in Stroudsburg, PA; a reasonable halfway point between us and the city (we’ve met 3 different men from NYC for the first time in Stroudsburg at this point).  We got there a few minutes before he did and grabbed a bevvie and a table.  In short order, he joined us.

I suppose we jabber jawed and did the vibe check thing for 45 minutes or so.  Everyone was clearly and enthusiastically on board. As it happened, he had a room at a hotel a couple blocks down the road.

I don’t remember how the transition from table to the two of them walking to the hotel happened, but I’ll never forget seeing them walk off.

I remember thinking what a badass Kate is.  Walk into a place with her husband, walk out with her lover with complete moxie and confidence.  I remember feeling the full shot of cuck angst; the jealousy, fear, uncertainty, and raw horny energy all equally intense and with the same bandwidth.  I felt loved, seen, and validated as well.  I knew in the moment what a relationship flex we were both having; it was equally clear that this may be the first time I watch her walk away with another man, but it for damn sure wouldn’t be the last.

I’ll see it again this weekend; Kate’s spending the night with Chris.

***

We’re winding down a perfectly awesome 5 day mini-vacation tonight.

It started with a thunder run down to Winchester, VA for a dance that a friend of Kate’s runs.  We went to one last year and had a great time, so we figured we’d repeat.  The weather was fantastic, we walked around Winchester in short sleeve shirts, no small thing for early November in northern VA.  We met a guy walking his dog named Scooby at the VA welcome center; it had been a minute and we each needed the bathroom.  Anyway, Scooby caught our attention because she was a giant poodle painted / dyed to look like Tigger of Pooh Bear fame.  Scooby probably wasn’t aware of it, but she 100% won Halloween.

Yesterday was a family day, we got to spend time with the newest grand baby, her mom Nicole, Kate’s other daughter Megan, and her two boys.  I got some great pics of the 4 girls milling around, such great vibes from 4 of my favorite humans.

Tonight’s big event was a shared bowl of kettle corn; the official snack of Casa Da Sam & Kate.  Both wonder dogs love popcorn, and going by the abysmal performance they both gave trying to catch tossed pieces, it’s been a minute since we’ve indulged.  The best part is the OG Chow Hound Cat is inside now, he’s not a fan of the cold, and he also loves his popcorn.  If memory serves, he became the Chow Hound Cat the night we first realized he liked it.

Thanks for reading!!!! Be kind to yourself and others,

Sam & Kate