Some people don’t like that I’m bisexual. Some don’t like that Belle and I are in an open relationship and I’m allowed to get fucked by guys and have one that does so pretty regularly. They might not like that I enjoy playing with my ass or occasionally wearing lacy (men’s) underwear or am politically left-leaning or whatever.
Thing is, some people want me and my relationship with my wife to fit into their neat little fantasies. They forget that I’m not writing a choose-your-own-adventure novel here. This is a (relatively constrained) view into our real life. And rather than let it roll over them in a way where they can simply absorb an account of yet another in the infinite number of human sexual variations, the extra bits they don’t relate to annoy them. They want to cut them off. They want to put themselves in Belle’s place and lash out in her honor rather than accept I do nothing that she isn’t 100% A-OK with.
I do get it. I understand. Who hasn’t been reading a novel (or, more likely for this crowd, some porn) and been unhappy with the author’s choice of action? I know I have. And then I either walk away or find a way to edit on the fly around the offending item. Or I just accept it for what it is. Of course, this isn’t a novel and it’s not porn (though it can be pretty steamy, I admit). This blog and my words shouldn’t be confused with those things and no amount of “constructive criticism” can change that. You get me as I am and you read what I tell you. If you don’t like that, then you should dynamically edit, skip, or leave.
Nothing in particular made me write this today. It’s just something that popped into my head. Something I wanted to say. This is real life, people. Not a performance.