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Should I or Shouldn’t I

I started this blog because I wanted to have one place where I could be totally honest.  I assumed I would start from the beginning  and follow the whole sordid tale chronologically, but . . .  now I am not so sure.

Over the years, several people have said “gee, you should write all this down” and I have always demurred, noting that it would not be wise to write about things I will NEVER tell my husband.  Now that I have started, though, something else is going on.  It feels like too much work to put things into words.

My first affair was HUGE at the time.  It was a whirlwind romance, sweet and poignant, a watershed, and blogging about it back then would probably have helped me sort things out.  Contemplating it from 4 years later, my perspective is very different.  In many ways I wish I had never gone down this oh-so-complicated road.  But I did, and the road lead me into erotica, , web porn, chat rooms, BDSM, anonymous hook ups, Craigslist, more essentially anonymous hook ups, coming out as kinky to my husband, exploring kink and swinger communities with my husband, several deeper relationships (with men and women), on-going affairs and hook ups my spouse is not aware of, and eventually becoming a sex worker.

Except for all the deception, my marriage is worlds better than it was in 2009.  I am able to love and enjoy my husband for who he is instead of resent him for who he is not.  I am easier to live with because I know myself better, am more at ease with myself and others, and do not feel trapped.  I am here, married because I want to be, not because I can’t think of options or because it is what is expected.

Oh — I said “except for the deception” but that is not exactly accurate.  I have lied to my husband since our wedding night — about what I liked, what I needed, who I was, and who he was to me.  Now all I lie about is who I have sex with and how I am paying for tuition.

If I continue to write the chronology, we will eventually get to the moment when I realized I could a) leave, b) stay and be miserable, or c) stay and be happy.  I opted to stay and be happy, even if that meant deceiving my Dear Husband.  And now I feel a little stuck.  I want to be married to my husband AND I want to have ethical romantic and sexual relationships with other people.  I am not going to back up and disclose to my DH the things I have been doing; that would just be mean.  But I am finally to the place where I want to be who I am (poly) without all the lies.  I will always be the person who cheated – but I do not want to always be a person who is cheating.  Someday that may mean ‘keeping myself only onto him’ but right now, that is not the solution I am looking for.

Did any of that make sense???

 

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Posted by on February 22, 2013 in Uncategorized

 

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Facebook Did NOT Ruin My Marriage

(If you have read “In the Beginning” you will know that my marriage was a mess before FB got involved.)

I am not a tech type.  I used email and Office, but in 2009 had never surfed the net.  I had a laptop and a cell phone, but had never used IM or text.  Online porn??? I was as pure as the driven snow.  (For our younger readers, I was born in 1965, I learned to type on a manual typewriter, and went to college before Al Gore invented the Internet.)  Before I had adjusted to writing 2009 on checks, my brother tried to get me to join Facebook.  I waved him off.  I had skipped MySpace and all that faddish nonsense teens were into.  Leave me alone, bro, what could I possible want with this Facebook thing?

Bro: “Hey, Ceilia, Rhett* is on FB and has been asking about you.”

Ceilia: Breaks land-speed record for tech noob figuring out how to start a FB profile!

When guilty people trying to rationalize the beginning of an affair say, “It just happened.” It is a big, fat, self-deluded lie.

*** *** *** *** *** ***

*Rhett is not Rhett’s real name, though it is darn similar and makes a nice literary or cultural connection, don’t you think?

 
1 Comment

Posted by on February 10, 2013 in 2009

 

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In the beginning . . . .

In the beginning, I was a 43 year old wife (of 1) and mother (of 3) — I had experienced some professional accomplishments and some set-backs.  I was unemployed, but had an interview coming up for what I believed would be my Dream Job.  I had a cute house, healthy children, and a dependable spouse, but all was not well in my life.

It is an understatement to say I was unhappy.  I had spent a good portion of my late 20s and early 30s clinically depressed, functional but not safe.   Thankfully, this new decade was not quite that bad.  It was more that I was tired, bored, disengaged — especially in my marriage.  I didn’t have the kind of marriage little girls dream of: we were partners, but something was ‘off.’  It seemed like we shared a life, a home, a family, yet we didn’t share a warm, nurturing connection.  My husband was the ‘typical clueless male’ in some ways.  He didn’t pick up his own socks, left crumbs on the counter when he made a sandwich, never told me I was attractive, didn’t touch me unless he was trying to get something started.  (You know the cliche — maybe you ARE the cliche?)

After almost 18 years of marriage the annoyances, irritations, responsibilities, and disappointments added up to almost no sex at all.  I didn’t like myself and I didn’t like him much, either. He had been turned down so many times, he basically stopped asking.

More importantly, my husband had become afraid of me.  He was born and raised a Nice Guy.  After having dated a few jerks, I consciously chose to marry someone who would never intentionally hurt me.  Neither physically OR emotionally.  He may at times be unthinking, but he was not thoughtless.  He was a very good catch for a woman who masked need with forcefulness; identified feminism with bossiness.  At times my depressions looked like paralysis, other times it was irrational hostility.  I was both fragile and sharp — like an injured animal who lashes out at the person trying to offer aid.  Girl was fierce!

I’m trying to set the stage for what comes next.  The short version is that neither profession, parenting, nor partnership were joyful.  I was trudging though adult life perpetually, acutely disappointed in myself and my lot.  I had played by the rules as I knew them.  I got an education, was a productive member of society, married to the same man for almost 18 years, got my children immunized, taught them manners, was active in my faith community . . . and one day started coloring outside the lines.  This blog, this memoir is that story.

 
9 Comments

Posted by on February 2, 2013 in 2009

 

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