Some Are More Equal Than Others

I’ve been watching with interest the debate on ‘equal marriage’.

The discussion seems to have largely swung between rather hysterical arguments against, and the pro-camp calling everyone who disagrees with them a bigot. I can’t help but feel that the issue is largely a result of the blurring in this country of the line between religious marriage (whose definition belongs surely to the religion in question) and legal marriage which is sanctioned by the state and imposes legal responsibilities on the people involved.

The irony to me is that in many cases marriage imposes a cost on the parties involved because it enforces a financial dependence that means that marriage is no longer an economically sensible thing to do. Long gone are the days of the ‘married man’s tax allowance’!  However, generously, the government is prepared to give those same disadvantages if you are civilly partnered or even just living together ‘as if you are married’!

Yet despite that, many people still choose to be married (myself included) and it is good to think that people will be able to marry whoever they please regardless of gender.

Still, as part of the debate, one of the against arguments proposed was that same-sex marriage would lead to polygamy. The argument being that this redefinition would lead to others, and so on…

For a start, this isn’t the first change to the laws on marriage and it would be unreasonable to think it will be the last. But more importantly, if it did lead to polygamy, would that be such a bad thing? Would multiple, committed, consensual relationships (all mutually paying taxes) really be a bad thing?

Now that really would be equal marriage.

Celebrating (Polyamorous) Marriage

This is one of those times when I came across a post and thought “yes, that!”. This one is about what marriage means when you are polyamorous.

Marriage has been on my mind at the moment as Perrin and I recently celebrated another wedding anniversary.

When he and I got married we were expecting to be monogamous, so marriage was an uncomplicated commitment. However one of the advantages of having a civil wedding was that we had to choose our own vows. This meant we discussed whether we wanted sexual fidelity to be one of them. In the end we didn’t promise it, because the vows we chose expressed our desire to love and support each other in far less specific terms.

Having discussed and renegotiated, as all married couples do on many subjects (even if not always sexual ones), we now find ourselves polyamorous. However my love for Perrin and my commitment to our relationship remain. He is someone I want to be a part of my life until I am old and grey (a day sadly coming rapidly ever closer).

However this doesn’t necessarily preclude me being committed to someone else as well. While legal marriage is clearly not an option, bigamy being ever so slightly illegal in this country, marriage is about more than a legal status. It is about standing up to declare your feelings, promising commitment, about believing in forever. Promises made together do not need legal sanctity to be meaningful. I still remember the moment I realised I felt committed to Perrin and it was a moment well in advance of our wedding day.

Our recent wedding anniversary was very special in many ways. Over a long weekend Perrin and I shared many wonderful moments together, just the two of us, but our anniversary dinner was a different affair. Perrin, Mat and I shared a meal together; we toasted the anniversary, together, as a poly family of which our marriage is a part.
This is my life; married, polyamorous and very, very, happy.

When We Grow Older

My boyfriend and I were sitting in the sunshine. We were drinking coffee and watching an old couple cross the road. She had a bandaged leg and was walking with two sticks but the two of them were a couple who, like us, had just been sitting in the café drinking coffee.

My boyfriend turned to me. “Do you think we’ll still be perverts when we’re ninety?” he asked.
I replied that I did, after all why should our relationship change because we’re older.
“You realise no one else will find it sexy?” he pointed out. I did and I do. That doesn’t mean we should stop feeling or being sexy though.
There may of course be fewer pictures on the blog and perhaps the tales of our adventures will be blander. After all, getting naked may take us longer, we may no longer be agile enough to do things we now take for granted but I cannot imagine not holding my Boy’s head in my lap and reminding him that he is mine.
Actually the one thing that frightens me about that thought of us being ninety and being kinky is that biology itself may steal it from me.

I’ve been kinky since childhood and my sex drive and my kink drive are effectively the same thing. They have only been separated once when I was made to feel so ashamed of my submission that I couldn’t face it anymore. That shame still occasionally haunts me, a shame which my Domme side is thankfully free of.

My sex drive is something therefore which is part of me, an important part of who I am. Important enough that this blog is a part of my self-expression. That drive was lost though when I was on the pill. The scary thing was how little I realised what was wrong. The sheer delight, the buzzing, vertiginous feeling of pleasure was gone and I couldn’t remember how it felt. I couldn’t feel desire, I was not myself. By choice I will never let go of that part of myself again but nature may have other ideas.

To get from here to ninety the menopause hangs like an ominous bridge between us. Another hormonal shift and this one I cannot avoid. It is, I hope, still a very long way away but I cannot know what it will bring. Perhaps nothing, Puberty didn’t change me so why should its inverse?

In the meantime however I intend to go on being a perverted, dirty little girl and loving every second of it for as long as I can. Hopefully until I’m ninety.

Jumping Off A Cliff

I jumped off a cliff. Well officially it was actually a slide but it was a slide with a sheer vertical drop high enough for a long drawn out moment of panic – but I’m getting ahead of myself…

We’d gone out for the day and much fun was being had. Mat and I had already raced each other down the toboggan run until we’d determined that which lane you were in had more effect than technique or even body weight. Then we found this slide.

Basically a vertical drop with a curve at the bottom and a long horizontal section to lose momentum in. It’s supposed to be fun. The people using it were having fun but it still looked jolly dangerous to me.

Then Mat took off and ran up to the slide. I watched, hating watching, as he sat at the top above that sheer drop. My precious boy, taking a risk, and I wasn’t there with him. My heart ached as he pushed off into space.
He slid down, arms and legs akimbo, racing along the length easily. He had a cheery smile as he got up but I couldn’t return it. I hated seeing him risk himself like that on his own when I felt I should have been there too but was too scared.

I’m the first to admit my perception of risk is way off. “What’s the worst that can happen?” is a question that haunts me often; I see the danger, the bad things all too easily. Physically too I’m a mess. I have poor coordination, little muscle memory and incredibly bad balance. Those things that look easy to you, to me they’re actually hard.

It had got a lot less busy when Perrin suggested I use the slide. He knows how much things like that scare me but I figure he knows the real risks better than I do. I figured too I should show Mat I wasn’t scared to try it. So I turned off all self-preservation and went for it. I knew I had one chance. If I hesitated I’d never make it over the top. Up I went and sat on the edge not looking down. But I needed to look, to face the drop, so I did. It looked exactly as I had imagined, sheer and frightening but I could see my loves at the far end waiting for me, all I had to do was push.

I screamed – like a girl!
Free fall is not my natural state. I don’t really remember how I landed although I remember the pain of bumping my head and my sense of indignation. Everyone had said it was so safe and there I was right all along! Then there was shock as everything caught up with me.

All I wanted was to make them proud of me.

I’ve been brought up to be responsible, to be safe, to always have a safety net, to be the safety net for others. I play it safe. It takes a lot to make me let go of all that, to take a risk.There have been a few times I’ve done that though.

My relationship with Perrin started with a big risk but with the wonderful feeling of knowing the reward was worth trying for. That, even if everything crashed and burned, simply giving our love a chance was worth possibly losing everything for. Instead I have been given the world.

My relationship with Mat has brought its own risks too. Again, although my stomach feels hollow as I look down at the depths, I know it was worth launching myself into this place and trusting in his heart to catch me.

All I want now is to make them proud of me.

 

A Consort Fit For A Queen

On the occasion of Prince Philip’s ninety-first birthday.

I’ve always admired Prince Philip, it must be no easy task to marry a woman knowing she will always outshine you and that in public you must always defer to her. And yet watching the royal couple together it is clear that he is a tower of strength for the Queen, a help and a guide and that they love each other dearly.

Perhaps I appreciate his role more now too that I have found a man who makes me feel like a queen; who will kneel at my feet and will serve me, who is not ashamed to submit to me. In public play he is mine and I can trust in his submission. Yet in private he too is a tower of strength. Full of wisdom and knowing his own mind, not afraid to provide criticism but ready too to comfort and reassure when necessary. A playmate, a fellow adventurer, an equal partner in our joint ventures.

In public he may be my boy, my bitch and my submissive but he is no mere vassal; he is my royal consort and he is very loved.

Distance Is Not Always Measured In Miles

I’ve never been keen on long distance relationships. When you measure intimacy by touch, physical absence is hard to deal with. Still all relationships have their separations, their distances and efforts have to be made to overcome these.

My most recent sense of this was my trip away over Christmas. Several thousand miles and several time-zones coupled with severely hampered digital access certainly gave me a sense of distance. However flights were pre-booked in both directions and so I was able to count down the days and the hours until that distance was closed.

Currently I’m struggling with a distance of another sort. Life has changed and with it time, which used to be available with my boy, is no longer. The physical distances involved are relatively small but the time stretches between us; as these days even physical presence doesn’t always equal having the energy or mental space for play.

So I find myself, in effect, a long distance Domme. Oh, there are some advantages over being truly long distance; occasional opportunities to slip something into Mat’s bag for instance for him to discover later but mostly, that’s what I am.

I’m striving to keep up some form of D/s every day, as much for me as for him. Even if all I can do is text him to remind him who and what he is; I reaffirm that he is my boy in some way every day.
There have been tasks too, wearing my panties under his clothing, or getting him to tie up his cock for me. They make me smile as I imagine what he is doing, more so if I have a picture to go with it, but still, long distance D/s is mostly based on trust.

I can not compel him with my touch, or my voice or even the look in my eyes. Instead I must believe that he obeys because he wishes to be mine, and he must believe that I truly want his service, that it is of value and meaningful even when I am not physically present.
And all those things are true for me. Each distant task a little piece of connection, of comfort. Me in my place, he in his, until we can be together with the time and the space to truly be ourselves; to play as we wish.
I hold onto that thought as the long moments pass.

TMI Tuesday – 27 March 2012

I’m a huge lover of songs and lyrics so I could hardly resist having a go at these questions. I’ve limited myself to one song per answer but it was tough.

A Song For You

Answer the following questions using only song titles. Make sure you link to the song or the song’s lyrics so that we can listen to or read the song.

1. What is your present state of mind?
One Day like This – Elbow
I’m in love and happy and this song says all of that.

2. How do you feel about your spouse, significant other, or someone you lust for?
Truly Madly Deeply – Savage Garden
“I’ll be your dream, I’ll be your wish, I’ll be your fantasy”

3. Describe your job.
It’s Five O’clock Somewhere – Alan Jackson
Sometimes you just need a stiff drink.

4. What are you hungry for?
Hungry For Love – Alistair Griffin
This song is one of my favourites to drive to. “I … need the sensation of falling completely out of myself”

5. What’s your favourite colour?
Red and Purple – The Dodos
I’m not claiming to like this song; I’d never heard it before today but realising that I didn’t know many colour related songs I did a quick Google for my favourite colours and there they both were in the title of this one.

6. What gets you excited?
Bad Things – Jace Everett
“I want to do bad things to you”

7. Who do you think you are?
Share It With Me – All About Eve
“She’s selfish and crazy which isn’t so far from the truth”

Bonus: Describe your life. Feel free to elaborate on your song choice.
Affirmation – Savage Garden
I like this song because it is incredibly positive and I believe many of the things in it. Obviously though most of the songs above also describe at least part of my life too.