Or what constitutes real life. Sometimes the disconnect between my kink/poly life, the person I am and the life I lead outside the walls of my office, is huge and uncomfortable.
Why can’t I be naked and in chains at work??
But no, seriously, why can’t I mention W and Ad in the same breath, claim them as my partners, be open about at least that part of my life? It’s wearying, to be honest. Having to sit at a luncheon for one of the girls that just got engaged, listening to them prattle on about the size of diamonds and the length of a veil, about dress fittings and all the thousands of details that go into planning this one, overrated day… I don’t mind sharing that with them, really I don’t, we all have things that excite us, but I want to be able to share my life, too. My ups and downs and joys and the real me. My two men that mean so much to me, that bring me such complete and utter joy & contentment.
Anyway. Been back from camp for a few days now and settling back in. Doing some writing over on PoJ about my adventures while there and some processing that those adventures caused. It was interesting to me yesterday, as I wrote both those posts, how I made a very carefully considered choice about which I would post first. The first post, about our first night there, was hot and sexy. I wrote it for W more than anything else, because I wanted him to be able to relive it, and to read my reactions to it, in it. “Write me word pictures,” he said, because we don’t have any photos the weekend. And so I did. It was the truth of what happened, but it was also carefully crafted to tell the story in a way that I knew would please him, and hopefully, make him hot all over again.
The second post was more mine, more about my own, personal internal journey. I wasn’t sure he would like it so much. Not because he doesn’t like reading about my internal meanderings, but because…what I have inside is sometimes contradictory to (maybe) what we are supposed to be about, or (maybe) what he wants us to be about. I am always anxious before I post those kinds of thoughts. He has never given me reason to be anxious, he has always been supportive and understanding and appreciative…but it’s an emotional edge for me, to confess these thoughts and feelings.
So I made the very deliberate decision to post the hot one first, knowing he would read it while I was at work, and probably respond to it. And to post the other one later in the day, when maybe he wouldn’t read it right away, or at least until after I had left for the day. The reality is that it probably doesn’t matter when I post them, but it makes a difference in my mind, gives me breathing space, to do it that way. It wasn’t until I had posted both yesterday though that I realized what I had done, and the reasons.
Interesting how a mind works, isn’t it?
I had a fun moment this morning with Ad. I was unpacking my suitcase from the weekend, trying to find a favorite pair of underwear, and I pulled out my “brown pony” outfit. I had brought it with me to wear to one of the theme nights at camp, “How the West Was Hung.” But while we were there W got out a black leather posture collar and my friend B gave me a thick black leather belt, and along with the black reins and black & silver bridle that W made for me, I knew I had to be a black pony instead. So I wore a black leather skirt, black and red corset and heels with the collar and belt. It was…pretty cute. And damn, I LOVE my bridle. Anyway. As I was pulling out the brown outfit, I was nattering on about how I thought I should be a brown pony next time instead of a black pony, and should I get different boots, and blah blah blah, and Ad said, “A black pony?” and so, back turned to him, I started describing all the differences in Brown Pony and Black Pony, going on and on in the minute detail that is so important to me…when I looked over my shoulder to see him choking back laughter.
“You really don’t care, do you?” I said.
He laughed. “No, you’re hot in whatever you wear. It’s just so cute to hear you telling me all these little details!”
Oh, here’s a visual for you. This is Brown Pony. Brown Pony is a wild pony, and needs taming (and the occasional whipping) to keep her in line. I don’t have a picture of Black Pony, but although she is unschooled and skittish, she is much more in hand than Brown Pony. Brown Pony is a mustang, hot-blooded and wild, just brought in off the range; Black Pony is a well-bred, delicate creature, untrained but ready (and eager) to learn and be put through her paces and shown off.