Hmm…
I keep thinking back to the note I replied to yesterday. The one from a reader named Kerri who said, in part, “I cannot tell you how grateful I am for you to share your journey so publicly because I have found a lot of comfort in knowing that my desires aren’t necessarily singular, alone or deviant,” and, “…I don’t want to bare my soul to anyone who is likely to think I am weird…” and “[I] am so terrified of losing my husband, I either need to not feel how I do, or ask him to be what I need.”
Thing is, she never really came out and said what she needed or what her kink was. Did she want to carry a key? Or be locked? Or something else? Top? Bottom? No idea. But really, that doesn’t make a difference and it’s not what I keep thinking about.
So, I’m going to take another pass at her situation, but this time from a higher altitude. She said, “I either need to not feel how I do, or ask him to be what I need.” I can tell you right now, Kerri, you will not be able to stop being and feeling what you are. That bottle may stay stoppered for the rest of your life, but those feelings will never just evaporate no matter how far down you stuff them or how hard you will them to. They’re yours to keep. They are who you are.
No, you don’t necessarily need to act on your feelings/urges/whatever. Not everyone does (and, just between you and me, not everything you think is sexy ends up actually being that in real life). But I’m guessing that since you took the time to write me, they’re pushing at you pretty hard.
The second thing you said — “or ask him to be what I need” — is equally fraught. He may be what you need. That would be like drawing a straight flush, though. More likely, he is what he is and perhaps he can act like what you need him to be or what you both are has enough overlap to work. That’s the best case scenario, in my opinion. It’s also possible he can’t even think of being what you need him to be. That’s a scary prospect, I agree.
I don’t know you, let alone him, but you fear losing him and destroying your marriage and breaking up your family because of the kind of sex you want to have. Only you know him. Is that really likely? Or are you shaming yourself for being who you are? Are you inflicting fear of rejection and loss as a kind of punishment on yourself for being unlike who you think you need to be? I would know from that as I did it. Many times I felt like a complete freak and, even after leveling with Belle on all my various kinks and desires, making our sexual relationship work often felt too hard and I knew inside it was all my fault. Because I was not normal.
What I know now, and what I want you to hear, is there is no normal. There’s different. There’s compatible and incompatible. There are things each of us like and don’t. But nobody on this earth is normal. Not you, not me, not your husband, not the fucking Pope or President of the United States. People act normally (or, what they think is normal), but I think we all have our little kinks and peculiarities. We’re all kinky little fuckers deep down inside. And none of us are to judge what turns someone else’s crank (as long as it’s all consensual and practiced ethically, etc.). Not even ourselves.
So, please please free yourself from that guilt. Of that dread. You deserve to feel as you feel. You deserve to be happy. There is nothing wrong with you.
I know I’m incredibly lucky. I have a wonderful and supportive partner/friend/wife/keyholder who has made the realization of my sexuality not only possible but also rewarding. And it’s because of her support that I know how empowering it is to feel outside the shell we can make for ourselves when it comes to walling off whatever sexual feelings we have that fall outside the bullshit cultural paradigm. You need to break out of that shell to feel whole. You need to face who you are and give your husband the benefit of the doubt to face it with you.
This advice shit is tricky. Like I said, I know nothing more than what you told me in your note. Your husband may be a dick and maybe you already know he won’t be supportive. In which case, I wonder why anyone would want to live like that. But I’m making the assumption he isn’t. I can’t map out all the moves for you, but I can tell you how great it is not to be living with an important part of you hidden away from someone you love and who loves you.
Sure, do the things I mentioned yesterday. Buy the book, go to FetLife, maybe find a local group of like-minded perverts. But whatever you do, start the conversation with your husband. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but make the commitment and start working towards it now.
And don’t forget: We’re all kinky fuckers, every last one of us, in our own special ways. And it’s great.