Monthly Archives: September 2025

A Diagnosis That Changed My Perspective

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Autism and Masking

My therapist a few years ago said something about me being Autistic, assuming that I had already been diagnosed. I had always thought of Autism as kids who scream and are impossible to control, so I was immediately offended. I told him he was full of shit and hung up on him. Thank you to Covid-19 for ensuring that I didn’t have to angrily drive away since therapy was virtual at that time.

I started reading about Autism and joining groups for Autistic adults. The more research I did, the more I began to understand myself, and to see that my therapist was right. Don’t worry; I called him to apologize. It was still awkward after that so I see someone else now, but at least he got the satisfaction of me admitting he was right.

The point is: Knowing I was Autistic helped me see why the kink community appealed to me. I hate surprises or not knowing what is going to happen next. Being a Domme and negotiating scenes in advance took all the scary things out of sex. It made it much more palatable for me.

I also realized that I’ve always done something called “masking,” though I called it my “chameleon response.”

Basically, I mirror whatever energy someone else puts out. I mirror their speech patterns and even their mannerisms. FYI: Being someone who masks heavily is not great around people who hate themselves or people who are assholes. I have a natural resistance to negativity due to having an overabundance of Serotonin and Dopamine in my brain, but a miserable enough person can wear me down eventually until I mirror them.

People can’t always tell I’m happy because I don’t do facial expressions really well. But, all you have to do is listen to me talk.

I also see the best in people, find the good in shit situations, and generally view the world as a great place to be.

This is not always good. For example, my ex-husband had a serious brain injury while out drinking in Seoul in 2016. He became meaner and more dependent on alcohol, but I didn’t really notice because I only saw the good things in him. Later, he had another serious brain injury while out on exercise with the Navy. He got so mean and violent, but I thought: “Oh, he’ll get better.” He got worse and worse, and I kept trying to help him instead of running away. I thought I could help, because that is the disadvantage of being a cheerful person who looks for the good in everyone.

Being Autistic means I’m pretty awkward (on the inside) and I always feel like I’m cosplaying as an adult. On the other hand, that makes role-play really easy. If you’re already doing cosplay in all of your life, then trying out different characters isn’t so weird. It makes being a Domme easy because it’s just another persona, like my work persona and my friend persona. It’s like being diagnosed allowed me to find the key to a lock I didn’t know I had inside me.




On balance, I think I’ve come to love who I am more now.

I used to be pretty insecure. My biological mom spent my entire childhood calling me a piece of shit, and my biological dad told me I was too stupid to grow up to be anything of value. The kids at school also bullied me, and I didn’t learn to read or write until I was in 5th grade. Thanks to Mrs. Delinsik for speaking kindly to me. No one had ever spoken to me kindly before, and it turns out that’s how I learn. I can’t learn from being screamed at. I can’t even hear people when they are screaming because it makes my brain panic.

I was never stupid. I was just processing external stimuli with my entire brain the way Autistic people do, instead of with only one specific part of my brain the way neurotypicals do. This makes it hard to hear people chew and hear appliances hum and other things like that, but it definitely makes sex better. Experiencing sex with your entire brain is pretty great.

Once I was diagnosed, I noticed that most of my kinky friends are neurodivergent, too. That makes me happy. I didn’t even know who I was, but I still found my people.

I’ve come to realize that Autistic people are often bullied nut neurotypicals, and it’s not because there is anything wrong with us. It’s because there’s something wrong with the people who choose to bully us. The people who didn’t like how I acted make me laugh now. After all, I was only masking and mirroring their own behavior towards me (including tone, inflection, and stance). The thing they didn’t like was actually their own actions reflected back at them. It’s amusing when you think about it.

Thank you to all of you who have been part of my journey and helped me along the way. It means a lot.

As for me, I am trying to unmask. I don’t want to mirror people anymore or be anyone other than myself. It’s about time. But, I wish I’d been diagnosed sooner. I spent 42 years thinking I was a defective horse when I was a zebra all along.


My Favorite Fetish: Making Dreams Real

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I’ve always loved to imagine.

I grew up reading Lord of the Rings, the Drizzt Do’Urden series, and lots of other fantasy. Even before that, my parents met at Berkley at a first addition Dungeons and Dragons (D&D) quest. Imagination is in my blood.

As for sex, I remember figuring out how to masturbate when I was five. Sex and orgasms are an important part of my life and who I am.

It makes sense that I’d want to combine my two favorite things:

Fantasy + Sex = Magically Delicious.

They don’t even have to be my fantasies. I like to take other people’s fantasies and make them real, too. For people I love, making their dreams into truth is one of my very favorite things on Earth.


I learned a few years ago that not everyone sees things inside their heads. Some people can’t re-live experiences in perfect clarity or picture new scenarios and then live them in their minds. There’s a graphic that went around the internet with apples that explains it. That’s actually how I found out that my adopted mom has aphantasia.


As for me, I see things in my head better than I see them in real life. Maybe this is why it’s so easy for me to imagine turning fantasies into reality. I feel like all our fetishes have some explanation behind them, be it childhood issues, subconscious needs, or just the shape of our own minds. I think the shape of my mind -being so visual- leads to me trying to imagine things and then bring those fantasies to life.

Whatever the reason, my favorite memories are of taking a fantasy and turning it into a real-life experience. My ex-husband didn’t appreciate this at all and kept his fantasies secret from me after we got married (forcing me to try to guess what they were). But for those who have been open and told me what they wanted, I have made their dreams come true.

The internet has made this much easier. Now, you can just write about a fantasy that you have, and people will volunteer to get involved (if you’re a good writer). In the past, you really had to search for the right people to play out certain scripts. I am so grateful for the internet.

And hey, thank you to all you kinky folks for being out there in the world. I feel less alone knowing you’re there.

How to Talk About Sex

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When I plan a scene with a person or people whom I do not know well, I use kink negotiation forms. They have boxes to check for things you agree to and do not agree to, blanks to write in ideas, and more. Find an example here. This is good because miscommunication often leads to bad sex, and no one wants to have bad sex.

However, once you get into a long-term relationship, you will probably move away from forms and try to talk to each other about sex without ink and paper being involved.

First, let me start with what my ex-husband did because it’s good to start with what NOT to do.

I would try to bring up a new thing I wanted to try.

Me: “I was thinking that I’d really like to do a role-play scene for my birthday this year.”

Him: “No. I don’t do role play.”

Me: “Well, we can talk about who the characters would be. I’m not saying it has to be anything specific. I just thought we could try being different people.”

Him: “I’m not talking about this. I said no. Respect my boundary.”

End of conversation.

Many of you will point out how he is misusing the language of consent by setting a boundary that subjects cannot be discussed, rather than setting a healthy boundary on something after discussing it. That’s true. But, we won’t spend too much time going into all the issues with his side of the dialog. That’s not the point.

The point is: How could this have gone better?

As I tried to explain to him, it’s not okay to dismiss something out-of-hand before letting your partner explain themselves. There are a lot of reasons for this:

• If you do not let your partner explain what they are asking for in detail first, then they will walk away feeling unheard and disrespected.

• If you create resentment in your partner due to refusing them without hearing them out, they may express that resentment by saying “no” to you in the future, so keep in mind that relationships are about TWO people, not just one.

• If you let your partner explain why they want something, you might find that you are into it after all.

To go back to the ex-husband example:

 Once I asked him if we could try upside-down throat fucking. He immediately said no and refused to discuss it further. I went on a rant about feeling disrespected and unheard, and about how hurtful it was to always be refused when I asked for things. This made him silent, because when he was mad, he would refuse to talk at all and instead would just glare at me. Usually I gave up, but this time I kept talking. I said:

“Look, you probably said no before even thinking it through because from your point of view it seems like something to degrading to do to your wife. All I’m asking is that you consider it from my point of view. I don’t hang out in my own head when I’m having sex because I’m a non-op transsexual. I jump into your head. I have my eyes closed, and I am seeing the scene from your point of view. So, I’m asking you to do something that I want to do to a woman with the dick that I was supposed to have. I think it’s hot because it’s something a woman can’t possibly enjoy. There are no nerves there to give pleasure. There isn’t any clit to stimulate. It’s hot because it’s only for your pleasure and the woman is just being used like an object; a human fleshlight. All I’m saying is, I was born in a female body, but unfortunately, I was also born with the mind of a pretty gross guy. I’m not proud of it, but it’s something that I want. And I just thought you might be able to enjoy the fantasy with me.”

At the time, he sat there in stony silence, quietly hating me for pushing him to discuss things and care what I wanted. However, later I found that he’d been watching a bunch of porn about upside-down throat fucking. It became a fetish of his because I described it in a way that made it sound hot. Now, he continued to pretend that it was gross and refuse to do it with me, but that’s just because my ex-husband is basically the biggest douchebag on Earth.

Why am I telling you this?

Because it’s an example of bullet point three: If you let your partner explain why they want something, you might end up finding it hot after all.

I married my ex because he never said “no” to anything, and he was always up for new adventures. Once he had me trapped in marriage, he began to refuse any new things or anything fun. I have no idea why. I hope he works through that with his therapist or something. But, little-by-little, he became a completely different person after the wedding, and it was not the person I married.

Saying ‘no’ is pretty cruel when someone works up the nerve to ask for a secret sexy desire. And -while I apologize for lacing this post with my own post-marriage trauma- it’s relevant because what he did really hurt me. Yes, I am a Magically Delicious Super Slut. I have made a living for much of my life from writing kink erotica, hitting people for money, and throwing fetish proms. Sex is a huge part of who I am. And yet, even I feel shy when asking a new person for a new thing. It’s putting yourself out there and taking a risk, and being slapped down hurts all the way to the depths of your soul.

So don’t say ‘no.’ Say things like this instead:

• I’m curious to know what about that appeals to you. Would you be willing to tell me about it?

• I’d like to know more about how you visualize that working with us. Can you describe your vision?

• Can you tell me why I might enjoy this fetish?

 Even if you end up not being into the idea, you don’t have to say ‘no.’ My husband liked to say things like: ‘Absolutely not,’ or ‘There is no universe where I would be okay with that.’ Outright refusal is for assholes. Instead, try things like:

• I appreciate you sharing this with me. I’m not feeling it tonight, but let me think about it and do more research.

• I can see that this is important to you. Can you send me some links to some videos of it so I can try to get interested, too?

• I’m not sure if that would be safe for me. I would like to talk with my doctor about it and see what she says, and then I’ll get back to you.

• I won’t say ‘no’ because I know it took courage to ask; but is it okay if I say ‘not right now’ and give it some more thought on my own?

I once saw a meme where a guy is sitting at a computer and he clicks on a link to a porn video. He says: “That is sick! Who the fuck would be into that?” Then it has two frames of him just starring at the screen. In the final panel he says” “Oh shit, I guess I’m into that.” All I’m saying is, you might look into it and realize you are willing to give it a try.

I remember when I first thought about fisting. I have tokophobia (probably wrapped up in being trans,) and so I was instantly turned off by the idea because it was too close to the idea of giving birth.

However, I dated a guy who was amazing with his tongue and used to see how many times he could get me to orgasm in a night. It was like a fetish of his or something. He enjoyed getting me off, and he was good at it. Around the third or forth orgasm he would start putting fingers inside. One, then two, then three… until eventually his whole hand was inside me. He never exactly asked if he could, but then again, I was in too much ecstasy to protest. It reminds me of that old joke:

Her: “I’m not interested. I’m completely straight. I like men.”

Me: “Honey, you are spaghetti. You’re straight until you get hot and wet.”

I realize that sounds a little rapey -and I assure you I only ever said it to tease my good friends- but there is truth to it. Lots of things seem gross when you’re not turned on, but seem less gross after a few orgasms. And, if you have someone who is gifted with their tongue, that can make a lot of things seem less disgusting than you originally thought.

My ex husband said ‘no’ to a lot of things in more than a decade of marriage, and I don’t believe that any of them were fair. Most of them cost me a lot to ask for. After all, I have more than the average amount of shame wrapped up in sex and genitals since I have the wrong ones. (I always tell men: If you’re attracted to me then you’re at least little bit gay because I’m a guy.)

He said ‘no’ to trying romantic sex where we looked into each other’s eyes. He said ‘no’ to anal sex. He said ‘no’ to role-playing. He said ‘no’ to switching roles and topping me once in a while. He said ‘no’ to a MMF threesome. Etc… etc… etc…

I carry a lot of pain from how shitty he was. Some of it is wrapped up in refusing to have conversations about things or seek solutions to problems. Some of it is in how controlling he was. Some of it is in how lazy and mean he was. But the two biggest things that hurt me was:

• Saying ‘no’ to everything I wanted to try in bed.

• Harassing me for dressing up at home and bullying me into buying pajamas; which is not a thing I ever owned before I met him.

Some would say that the wrecking my cars drunk and having secret debt was worse. To each their own, I guess. But I know what hurt me the most, and I’m telling you from experience: Don’t just refuse to talk about things your partner wants to do in bed. It’s cruel.

Don’t Make Assumptions; Ask For What You Want

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This post is going to start with a tale of two rape fantasies (called “Consent Non-Consent” or “CNC” scenes). Trigger warning for anyone who might not want to proceed, because this content will get a little upsetting.

Snake Boy:

I dated a guy whose name I won’t use, but we’ll call him “Snake Boy” because he had a ball python (a normal pet in some places, but an odd choice where we were in South Korea).

Snake Boy asked me if we could do a rape scene. No one had ever asked me before, but I don’t shy away from trying new things so I said that I’d be happy to try if it. He didn’t give me any porn to watch to explain what he wanted, nor did he give me examples of the things he thought this would entail. He asked for a rape scene, and I agreed.

I asked Snake Boy to go outside and come back in sneakily, and I would pretend to be asleep. This way I could secretly enjoy one of my kinks (being fucked awake) while he enjoyed one of his.

When he snuck up to my bedroom, grabbed me, and penetrated me, I did exactly what some women reading this will recognize and understand: I held very still and cried quietly.

Some of the men reading this need more explanation, I know.

Basically, it goes like this: One in four women admit to being raped. The other three are probably just too ashamed to admit it. There are a lot of men out there who rape women. Don’t get upset. It’s just a fact. It’s not one guy doing it all. It’s a lot of them. And -while I’m not saying you are one of these men- if your ‘go to’ move is to get offended, then maybe you should look at that.

Women have learned through hard life experience that if you are raped, the best thing to do is to stay quiet and not fight. Women who fight get beaten and killed. I was actually beaten nearly to death and dumped in a dry riverbed to die when I was sixteen years old, and it was because I fought back.

Therefore, if you want to live, you stay very quiet and try not to move until it’s over. Maybe you even say something about how you enjoyed it so that you have a better chance of getting away. Men are much more likely to kill you if they think you will press charges. But if you say: “I’ve always wanted to do this” or something else that makes them feel safe, you’ll get away.

This is complicated by the fact that most men who rape you are ‘nice guys’ who you know, and that means you’ll see them again. The worst is when they assume that because they raped you, that means you are now their girlfriend. If you’re Autistic like me, this may lead to some very complicated situations in which you try to get the guy to go away because you know they are a dangerous rapist, but they keep following you around calling you their girlfriend.

One guy -we’ll call him ‘Roach’ because he reminded me of a cockroach- dragged me from the bathroom where I had been throwing up to his bedroom and raped me even though I said ‘no’ and tried to push him away while nearly passed out on the floor with puke on my clothes and face. The next day he started calling me his girlfriend and bought me a card where he hand-wrote a note about how special I was. And they say women play mind games.

Anyway, Snake Boy was very upset after the scene and told me: “That wasn’t a rape scene. You didn’t even struggle. Why would you think that is what I meant by rape?”

The audacity of these motherfuckers, you know? What a jerk.

But let’s move on to the second rape scene with The Vampire. No, he wasn’t Goth. It’s just that Twilight came out the same year I met him and his name was Edward, so I teased him mercilessly about his name and asked him why he didn’t sparkle in the sunlight. He’s dead now so I could use his real name, but I’m going to stick with The Vampire because it makes me laugh.

The Vampire asked for a rape scene, and then gave me a jump drive with a bunch of porn on it. He also rented a hotel room for the scene, and dressed up in black clothes and a black ski mask. See, he told me exactly what he wanted, gave a convincing back story about being a hotel employee who saw me check in and wanted me, and dressed the part. It was very sexy.

This time, I threw myself into the role as it was explained to me. I acted just like the girls in the movies he’d given me, with a lot of theatrical struggling and yelling.

It was exactly what The Vampire wanted, but he should have given the hotel staff a heads up or rented a bigger suite, I guess. That scene was interrupted by the cops. Huge props to someone for thinking a woman was being attacked, actually calling the cops about it. Huge props to the cops for actually responding to such a call, in spite of the statistics (they rarely respond and almost never press charges for actual rapes).

My point is: You cannot assume that someone knows what you want.

Snake Boy made a few assumptions that he should not have made, including assuming that I had never been raped before in real life, and assuming that I watched porn (which at the time I still did not). We can fake the reality to impersonate porn, but reality -left to its own devices- is almost never like porn. There are silly moments, tender moments, and all sorts of other things that porn leaves out. And obviously, some things are portrayed in a fantasy way because the real thing is not very sexy at all.

There is one thing that makes me happy about these two scenes when I look back. I’m glad that Snake Boy was disappointed by me acting the way most women actually act when they are raped. That means most rapists probably don’t enjoy it very much, and I’m glad if that’s true.


Things You’ll Be Ashamed to Talk About in the Morning

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There’s a tagline I have at the bottom of this blog:

“I want to do things you’ll be ashamed to talk about in the morning.”

This can sound fun to some people, or upsetting to others. However, I want to talk a little bit about what I actually mean when I say it.

Sometimes men watch porn or go to a sex club and see a woman doing something they feel is “gross,” and they will say: “How shameful! She clearly doesn’t respect herself.”

Aside from the fact that these guys tend to have a lot of latent homosexual feelings, there is also an inherent assumption that certain sex acts are incompatible with self-worth.

Guys, when I say you’ll be ashamed to talk about it in the morning, it’s supposed to be a joke. I’m not trying to push your boundaries or make you do things you don’t want to do. I’m not trying to make anyone hate themselves, and I don’t agree with those who are judgmental about what other folks are into. I’m just making a joke about how society at large feels that you’re supposed to be ashamed of sex, and anything you desire. I know a girl who felt so much shame about her own body that she didn’t masturbate until she was in her late 20’s and already had four kids.  I think that’s unhealthy, and I think shame is unhealthy. My tagline is meant to openly mock the concept of shame.

That said: I also want to remind folks that you don’t know what is going on inside another person’s head. You don’t know why they are doing what they are doing. That’s why judging them is extra ridiculous. And -if you’re honest- I think you can admit that most judgment is actually rooted in jealousy.

Maybe it’s not that the woman having anal sex at the club doesn’t respect herself. Maybe it’s that you want a guy to do that to you, and you’re afraid you won’t respect yourself if you have sex with a man.

Keep an open mind, and don’t be ashamed of who you are or what you want.

We Are the Weirdos, Mister

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The fetish community is made up of so many different kinds of people. Society at large would probably call us freaks, but I like to think that we are a tolerant bunch (at least within our community).

Something I have always said -which I stole from the iconic Jay Wiseman- is:

“Your kink is not my kink and that’s okay.”

If you are a White guy who likes to sleep with Black women (or men) because of some plantation fantasy, then I will let you do your thing without any commentary from me. If you are a woman who likes to pretend to be a child and have sex with adults, have at it. I admit that -for me personally- things like diapering are a real turn-off. But if it’s what you want to do, then you should do it.

One thing I have noticed over the years is that there are some trends. Many people figure out they are kinky and they want to start with fuzzy handcuffs and stuff. As they get deeper and deeper into the community, they start doing weirder and weirder things to try to get the same rush they felt the first time. Soon they find themselves watching octopus porn on some obscure website on the dark web, because they can’t get off unless they watch a woman have a live octopus shoved up inside her.

This is -perhaps- the one good thing about Artificial Intelligence. In modern porn, you know that no octopi were harmed because computer generated pictures and video are cheaper and easier than finding a woman willing to do it with an octopus.

That’s just a random example dating back to a visit to Bangkok where I was handing a brothel menu with things like “smoking pussy” and “eels in pussy” on it. Stay weird, Thailand. Stay weird.

My point is, people often fall down those holes into the extremely weird. Sometimes it happens over the course of years. Sometimes it happens overnight.

Then, in time, people often come around to realizing that the fun part about kink is actually enjoying your fellow odd ducks getting off on whatever they are into. Maybe it’s just some light dirty talk.

“Oh master, fuck me harder. I’m going to cum!”

Maybe it’s being blindfolded so you don’t know what is coming.

You realize it doesn’t have to be weirder than last time. It just has to be savored. Whatever play you are engaging in, you just have to commit to your role and enjoy the uniqueness of that specific experience.

Anyway, we are the weirdos.

I’m just pointing out a trend I see which makes me feel like we really aren’t that weird. We just like to have interesting experiences, and I’ll never understand why there is a stigma attached to that.

An Ode to Role Play

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I have a tattoo on my right leg. It is a flesh tear with gruesome, bloody flesh hanging on the sides. Inside the flesh tear is a field of butterflies and sunshine, with a beautiful fairy and colorful flowers. This piece is meant to compliment the black-and-grey leg sleeve on the other side, which is a very Goth collection of skulls and darkness.

This is because I am Goth on the outside, but cheerful and happy on the inside.

Some will cry “You’re a poser,” but it’s actually more about the deep and weird reality of being neurodivergent and having to “mask” to fit into the world and have a job.

The nature of our reality forces us to have personas. For example, who doesn’t know about the customer service voice? Most of us have been forced to work at a call center, wait tables, work retail, or do something else that required us to have a peppy, cheerful voice for customers.

For neurodivergent people, the masking goes deeper. I really am a weird Goth chick with an aesthetic I love. Pale skin, black leather, and lots of strappy things. But I am also a happy person who generally sees the best in people and has a positive outlook on life. I can be both things, and I am. It’s just that I have to hide so much of myself all the time to fit in with neurotypicals, that I end up having imposter syndrome about myself.

This confusion is eased by letting the different part of me out to play in a safe space.

My customer service voice wants to fuck you. I mean, I spent 40 hours a week being her for so many years, but she never got to have sex with anyone because she was all business. Maybe she needs to be let out and allowed to serve you in other ways until you’re a satisfied customer.

And, while Goth is how I like to look, sometimes I also want to act like the Goth girls on TV during sex. I want to be as bananas as Wednesday Addams on the dance floor, but also emotionless and with a blank expression. I mean, why shouldn’t I get to try it out and see how it feels while fucking?

My chipper internal monologue would also like a chance to act out. I want to put a blonde wig over my black hair and dress in something pink. I want to have sex like the preppy girl in my head who is always asking people to go hiking and pointing out the positive moments in our bleak existence.

I’m not saying I know what these personalities will do once I let them out. Maybe my customer service voice likes anal. I have no idea. But I want the chance to explore them in a safe space because they are parts of me, and since sex is such an important part of my life, I want them to explore their sexy sides.

Also, I want my partner to role-play.

Be the guy who thinks the blonde girl is hot, and act however that makes you feel. Be the guy that wants to fuck Wednesday Addams and do whatever that guy wants. Be the person who wants to have sex with the customer service lady, even if that’s some jerk who complains about everything.

I mean, I don’t want to date an asshole who is rude and flirts in obvious ways. But, maybe I want to have sex with that guy.

It’s like upside-down throat fucking. I don’t want someone I love to want to do that to me. But, I want someone I feel safe with to want to do that to me. So, just be someone else for a night so it’s not weird later. If it was just a persona you tried on then it’s not upsetting.

There was a toxic show that reinforced negative stereotypes called “Modern Family.” And -while I did not love how that show portrayed a family or gay people or anything else- I did laugh at the fact that once a year on Valentine’s day, the main characters Phil and Claire would go be different people. They always role-played the same people: Clive and Julia. But, it was so cute and even if the show made it look cheesy, that is a good representation in culture of a major fetish of mine.

Sure, we can be us most of the time. But on my birthday, or for Valentine’s day, or just sometimes; wy can’t we be someone else?


Remembering Who The Fuck I Am

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The last decade I was married to a narcissistic control freak.

At first, it was little things that should have been red flags, but I was too in love to see them.

Example: I said that I wanted to try role-play, and he said no. Not just no, but an outright refusal to discuss why he said no. It was the casual brutality of it that should have alerted me to an problem. He could have said he’d think about it or asked to hear more. He didn’t. He just said no, and became furious when I wanted to discuss it further.

Example: I threw a kink party and he spent the entire night flirting with someone else. He ignored me when I tried to talk to him, and did not check in with me at all. When I tried to discuss it after the fact, he said that I was making him feel bad about himself and I needed to stop trying to shame him for his behavior. No discussion of how to solve the problem in the future, no explanation of why he behaved that way, and no promises to be more mindful.

Example: He would sit for hours on dating apps talking to people while we were supposed to be hanging out. Not while he was in line at the grocery store or on a smoke break at work, but like, while we were watching TV together and were supposed to be snuggling. I said it made me feel bad and that I thought he should find better times to try to meet women. He refused to discuss it and said he had to no other time to meet women so I shouldn’t have an issue with it.

You can see the pattern. He refused to discuss things. He shut down conversations that needed to be had, and he tried to argue me out of my feelings.

The year that we dated he was attentive, thoughtful, and kind. He never said “no” to trying new things in bed, and acted brave even his first time at a sex club.

As soon as we got married, his behavior changed. He began to snoop through my things, try to track my phone, and disrespect me. I thought he was having trouble adjusting because his parents are bad people who are abusive to each other, so I tried to give him space and understanding. I showed compassion and tried to have conversations about his feelings. He just kept shutting them down.

For a few years, I went into “fuck it” mode and just had fun. If he wouldn’t talk then at least we could have sex and drink. I made dinner at night, made cocktails for dessert, and we had a lot of sex. I mean, I wanted to have a healthy relationship where we discussed things, but I also only have so much energy and I thought if I gave him time and set a good example by being a loving and communicative spouse, that he would eventually pick up the hints.

Eventually, I tried again to talk about things. He would always follow the same pattern:

• Try to argue me out of my feelings.
• Yell at me for making him feel bad.
• Bully me once I became overwhelmed and cried.

Eventually he started telling me that he hated me and that I should kill myself, but since he would always apologize the next day, I found myself torn. He was clearly getting worse instead of better. I should leave. But, I loved him and I had become attached to the pets he insisted we get and the garden he pushed me to grow for them. Comfort does count for a lot. I figured when he got out of the military, he would get into therapy and get better. I thought we could get back to the way things were the first year when he said “yes” to everything. I thought we’d be best friends again.

Instead, he became wildly abusive and eventually physically violent. It took having a tooth knocked out for me to finally get the picture and leave.

I am ashamed that I stayed for so long.

Sure, I had my boyfriends and saw a cute girl for a few years. I had my comets that came around every so often for sex. In the poly lifestyle, we always have more people around to lift us up when one partner is dragging us down. But, I should have given up sooner. I regret the years I spent trying to help him when he clearly didn’t want help.

And that’s the point I want to make: People who shut down conversations are bad people. Discussion is essential to any healthy partnership. Communication is key.

I won’t forget again.