space and reassurance

Gerard and I are apparently like most couples in that we have different/opposing needs when it comes to feeling safe and loved.  There are people out there in this world who feel safest when they have space-- who want to have space if they get upset, and generally, if you pressed them, would tell you that they sometimes worry about not getting enough space in their intimate relationship.  Gerard is like this.  Then there are other people in the world who feel safest when they have togetherness and plenty of reassurance.  These people are like me, and they want to "talk it out" right away if they get upset.  If you pressed them, they might tell you that they sometimes worry about not getting enough togetherness in their intimate relationship.

I've found this difference between Gerard and I to be challenging right from the first few months of our relationship.  Though apparently we are not unusual-- most couples usually have one of each type.  And of course, the source of these feelings and behaviors go back to early, early childhood.  People who are like me generally didn't get enough snuggling and doting from their parents, and people like Gerard didn't get enough space to grow and be separate from their parents.  (I'm not suggesting that Gerard or I or anyone, necessarily, was abused or has terrible pathology because of such parental missteps-- it's fairly easy for parents to mess this up in at least some way.)  And, like everything that happens when we're under 5 years old, it has a pretty strong effect on who we become and what happens in our intimate relationships as adults.

Lately, Gerard and I have been looking more closely at our disparate needs and tendencies in the context of arguments.  Every time that we have an argument, even a ridiculous one-- and we have a lot of the ridiculous ones, being on top of each other almost 24/7 in this teeny apartment-- we both immediately feel a strong pull to our respective sides of this issue.  Gerard says, "I'm mad, you have to give me space," and I say, "I'm upset, you have to talk with me to work this out."

I don't mind telling you that Gerard tends to get a little bit self-righteous in these situations.  "Anyone will tell you that my way is healthier," he said once.  Of course, I did my best to correct him.  But it was hard to get it through his head that it's just as difficult for me to give him an hour of space (overcoming my anxiety and need to have things feel okay again) as it is for him to give me any reasonable discussion when he feels unable to overcome his anger and desire to be alone.  And I guess it was his lack of understanding (combined with some defensiveness) that kept him from seeing my side, and how we were both asking each other for something very difficult and contrary to our natural ways of being.

I worried, as I am wont to do, that we'd end up at an impasse.  Gerard was being really stubborn, insisting that he wasn't capable of adjusting his behavior, and I told him I wasn't willing to always do it his way.  When he needs space and I'm really upset, I often spend the entire duration of "space" crying-- and I can't sign up for having to do that every time we have a little tiff.  I held my ground insistently, and I didn't see how it could be resolved.  We went to bed and didn't touch each other all night.  

But then in the morning Gerard made me waffles.  And he said, "We've never talked about the problem in this way before.  This is a new insight, and I think just knowing it will help us to do better.  Everything's going to be fine.  I would do anything-- anything I can-- for you, and I know we'll work this out."

silly songs

One of the things that I have always loved about Gerard is the way that he loves to sing.  He won't readily admit that he loves to sing-- he's spent enough time around professional musicians that he has no desire to flaunt his untrained voice.  But he does love to sing, and I know that he does because he sings all the time.

I come from a musical family and have studied music for most of my life, so I was delighted when I was first exposed to Gerard's penchant for song.  Early in our relationship, he would often sing to me in the mornings, while we were lying together in bed after a sweet sleep or early morning lovemaking.  He'd usually choose old jazz standards, or songs from Broadway musicals.  It was enchanting.

I have an absurd memory for lyrics, and Gerard not so much.  Over time this has developed into a dynamic wherein Gerard begins a song with the correct lyrics and then gradually devolves into some crazy bastardization of the original rhymes, and then looks at me between his giggles for whatever the correction might be.

Other times, he'll look up the lyrics to a song on the computer, and then sing his way through the whole song.  Usually once he's done he'll turn the monitor towards me and say, "Now you do it.  Can you play your guitar too?"  He loves to hear me sing and play, and sometimes will happily take care of all the dinner dishes by himself if I'm serenading him with my voice, the guitar, or the piano while he does so.  Of course, it's more fun for me when he's singing along rather than just listening.

Most entertaining of all is what seems to be Gerard's favorite type of singing: he improvises spontaneous song parodies.  (For those of you not familiar with this idiom, it involves taking the tune and lyrical structure of a well-known song and changing the words to something else entirely.)  Sometimes he sings these to the dog, with words usually focused on the themes of the dog being hungry and Gerard coming to feed her.  But most of the time he sings the song parodies to me.  The subject matter of these song parodies is typically related to how much Gerard loves me, and eventually that tends to turn into, or at least mention, how much he loves my bottom.

Here's an example (to the tune of "Down in the Valley"):
I love my Aureeeeeeeeeeeelia
I love her so
I love her bottom
I want her to know

Another recent song (performed while pinning me down to the bed) used some villain-like melody that I didn't recognize and went as follows:
I'm a scoundrel who steals body parts in the middle of the night
And I'll take your left arm, your breast, and your bottom to do with what I like!


As I write this, I'm struck by how odd it feels to be telling this story.  It sounds like the sort of thing that you'd watch in a dopey sitcom.  And yet it brings endless delight and giggles to our life.  I imagine that one day Gerard will be making up cute little songs for our child, and that that child will grow up with an appreciation for music and the creative use of words and rhymes.  What could be nicer?

the right answers

Though I've done a lot of kinky things in my day, my core sexual interests are pretty tame.  I'm into submission, and I'm game for bondage, but my main thing is that I like to have my bottom smacked, patted, and paddled... and I just always have.  I've heard Dan Savage tell callers on his podcast that any reasonable sex partner should be game to do some spanking-- in the grand scheme of things, it's a very mild kink.

But there are some specific feelings and tones that I want to go along with my spankings.  It's not just about the physical sensation for me-- the fantasy involves certain attitudes and motivations in addition to the bottom-smacking.  I'm aware that some partners might struggle with my craving for a paternalistic tone along with the physical act... though, luckily for me, Gerard does not.  It took him a few months to really get on board with my kink, but once he did so, he never looked back.  I now have no doubt that the spankings I receive from him are just as pleasurable for him as they are for me.

Still, valiant good-giving-game partner though he may be, Gerard doesn't always get every bit of the mood-setting and fantasy words exactly right.  And I've noticed that when we have sex less often, I need the sex that we do have to be more on-the-mark in order for me to really enjoy it.  So I told him I'd write up a little blog entry where I'd give him some examples of things that I want to hear, words that would really do it for me when we're moving towards coitus.  I thought that would be a fun and sexy thing to share.  And for simplicity's sake, I thought I'd just present it with questions I might ask him in such moments, or "protestations" that I might make, followed by the best answer that I'd hope to hear from him.

Here goes.

Are you going to spank me?
Yes.  (This one isn't complicated-- I'd rather hear "yes" than any kind of more role-play-like answer.  Though that doesn't mean I want this to be the end of the conversation...)

But why are you going to spank me?
Because I think it's the right thing for you right now.  It was your responsibility to do x, and you didn't do it.  You know that means that you're going to end up over my knee.

Now, sometimes Gerard will spank me because I've done something "wrong," like leaving the bathroom a mess or forgetting to do something I promised.  Other times, he will spank me because I am behaving in a moody way, and he knows that a spanking will help me to feel centered.  So in those cases, here's a different response:

Because I think it's the right thing for you right now.  Sometimes you just need to be reminded that I have things under control, and that I can take care of you.  And sometimes taking care of you means spanking your cute little bottom-- even if you say you don't like it.  And I'm not going to stop until I think you understand that.

No, please don't use the paddle!

I know that you don't like this paddle, baby, but that's why I'm going to use it.  I think you need a stronger message than what I can portray with just my hand.  


But I don't want you to spank me.
This isn't about what you want, it's about what you need.  You put me in charge of deciding when you need to be spanked, and I say that right now you need to be spanked-- until your bottom is very pink and sore.


Not fair!
This part of our relationship isn't supposed to be fair.  And while I kind of enjoy how cute it is when you pout, in the long run it's probably just going to get you spanked even harder.


Ow!  That's enough-- it hurts!
I know it hurts-- that's the point.  I want this to help you remember that I'm keeping my eye on you, and that I want you to be a good girl.  Do you think you're going to remember that, or am I going to be taking you over my knee again tomorrow night?


Hmmm... I think that's all I can think of for now, just as a general starting point.  Basically I like him to be firm but very loving, and a little bit condescending.  I like hearing that he's giving me what he thinks I need, and that he's thinking about taking care of me.  And I like hearing that he thinks I'm cute.

This little list is nowhere near exhaustive, of course, and that makes me think this: I know I have some readers who love giving or receiving a good spanking as much as Gerard and I.  Do you want to share any key words or phrases that push your buttons, or that seem to have a powerful effect on your partner?

considering open relationships

Over the holidays, Gerard and I had a chance to spend a lot of time with his sister and brother-in-law.  They've been married for five years, and they have a ten-month-old baby.  I really like both of them-- they are smart and thoughtful people, although certainly much more conservative than me.  They live in the suburbs, drive an SUV, shop at Walmart, and mainly socialize with the people in their culdesac.  They live in a bubble and they like it that way.

One day the four of us were driving together somewhere, and we were talking about marriage and relationships, and what it's like having a baby.  Then suddenly, out of nowhere, Gerard's brother-in-law commented, "Those people out there who think that they can have an 'open relationship' are completely fooling themselves.  That's just not the way that human beings are wired, and those types of relationships never work out."

He went on for a little while, and I was a bit shocked, listening to him.  I thought I let a decent amount of time pass before countering, "That's certainly not true. Lots of people have successful open relationships, and there's lots of evidence indicating that monogamy is not the 'natural state' for human beings."

"Like what?" he demanded, his voice gaining momentum and energy bordering on aggression.  "What specific research studies can you cite that have proven that monogamy isn't the natural state for humans?"

And so began a very interesting conversation.  Gerard's sister and brother-in-law were hell-bent on believing that monogamy is the only way to have a loving partnership.  I tried telling them about several couples that I know who have successful open marriages, and they reacted first with disbelief ("yeah, but how long have they been together?") and then with dismissal ("okay, maybe they've been married way longer than us, but that's still not that long and anyway that's not that many examples").  

An interesting element to their disbelief was that they imagined non-monogamous relationships as across-the-board betrayals.  I explained that, in healthy polyamorous relationships, the couple agrees to the terms, and that the primary relationship gets first priority.  This was very difficult for them to wrap their heads around.  Gerard's sister countered, "So if the wife didn't like one of the husband's other partners, she could say 'I want you to stop seeing her' and he would?"  I could tell that she was taken aback when I answered, "Yes, exactly."

They were also applying odd reasoning to the whole idea.  "By sleeping with other people, you're putting your family at risk because you could catch STD's."  It seemed like it was difficult for them to imagine that a person might apply the same principles that kept them safe during conventional dating (such as honest conversations, regular testing, and condoms) to their "piece on the side" relationships.

We went round and round for a while, and the discussion sort of ended at a draw.  Gerard's sister seemed to have a slightly wider perspective after hearing us out, but her husband was stubbornly holding his position.  He insisted that my experience is skewed because I live in a big city and that the rest of the world is much more conservative and similar to him than my "sample."  We let the topic go-- although later I did email them both a number of links to articles describing the research about monogamy (he did ask for it).  Neither of them replied.

It was sort of funny for Gerard and I to be championing open relationships together.  I would say that we don't have an open relationship, though I suppose that's somewhat debatable.  Gerard isn't allowed to pursue sexual relationships with other women, and I'm not allowed to pursue sexual relationships with other men.  However, I am allowed to pursue sexual relationships with women.  Twice since we met I have had encounters with women-- once with my best friend, and once with a girl I met on Craigslist for that express purpose.  

It's interesting to note that, in both cases, Gerard had some feelings of jealousy in addition to his arousal, even though the whole thing was his idea.  The sister and brother-in-law were using jealousy as evidence that human beings were intended for monogamy.  "Relationships are complex," I told them.  "I'm not saying that there is never jealousy.  The people who choose these types of relationships have to make the choice to address those feelings when they come up-- they don't ignore them or pretend not to have them.  These sorts of things can be fine when they're talked about and worked through."  I think that Gerard would say that his jealousy was not as strong as his arousal and motivation to see me sleep with women.  And though I don't have a secondary partner in my life right now, we both have positive associations with our experiences in the past, and Gerard would be thrilled if I were to find someone new to get involved with.

We've always talked about someday opening our relationship more.  I admit that I do like the idea that Gerard won't be the only man that I sleep with for the rest of my life, even if he becomes my husband and the father of my hypothetical baby.  And I like the idea of being secure enough in our bond that I'd be willing to let him have an encounter with another woman at some point.  Right now, I don't think we're being pulled in that direction-- but we're in agreement that we're open to going there one day.

I was disappointed by that conversation with Gerard's family.  It's hard to be reminded that there are such judgmental and closed-minded people in the world, and to realize that some of those judgmental and closed-minded people are actually lovely to be around most of the time!  Dan Savage often points out that it's our preoccupation with monogamy that contributes to many couples' struggles, and suggests that monogamy would actually be easier if we were willing to give ourselves credit for the hard work that it involves, to realize that it's okay and natural to be attracted to people besides our partners and to want to have sex with those people.  To empower ourselves in our choice: to pursue the ups and downs of polyamory or to work our way through monogamy, and to actively address the joys and pitfalls of whichever one we choose.

Here are some of the sources about non-monogamy research that I sent to the sister and brother-in-law:

Sex at Dawn

Seed Magazine's Sexy Beasts article

The Double Life of Woman (has some passing references to evolutionary theory)

Salon's interview with the author of Lust in Translation

The Guardian's interview with the author of Mating in Captivity

vulnerability

The researcher and storyteller Brene Brown says that living wholeheartedly means fully investing yourself in life (in endeavors, in relationships, etc.) and allowing yourself to be vulnerable, even while knowing, and acknowledging, that you have no guarantee of success.  And I feel that vulnerability today, as I create a space for (anonymous) public exposure of my relationship and my oh-so-vulnerable investment in Gerard, the man that I love.

Imagine us, if you will.  We are young enough to still call ourselves young, but old enough to know that that won't be the case for too much longer.  We cohabit in a tiny, rundown cave of an apartment in a vibrant neighborhood of an amazing American city.  We have a dog, a piano, and matching laptops.  We've painted our kitchen yellow.

When we first met and started dating, it was our sexual chemistry that seemed the most promising element of our burgeoning love affair.  I had a kinky past, and Gerard was experienced in sexual adventure and seduction.  We came together like magnets, and we each had the kinds of sexual behaviors and proclivities that the other craved.  As we continued to date, we would sometimes find that socializing with other couples was difficult because the sexual energy between us was so powerful that it overwhelmed or embarrassed our friends.

These days... well, we both laugh and shake our heads with amazement when we acknowledge that we seem to have hit a point where sex isn't one of the most important elements of our relationship anymore.  It's strange, and sometimes challenging.  We both want to keep having amazing sex, and our days are full of meaningful, affectionate and often sexual touches and caresses.  But I know when we moved in together six months ago we both thought we'd be having sex more often than we are.  It's not disgraceful, but we could definitely be taking advantage of each other a lot more often.

I think that closeness, intimacy, and vulnerability have challenged us.  When I think back to our early relationship, I remember that, once we'd been seeing each other long enough to realize we had something sustainably special, Gerard completely pulled away.  He kept me at arm's length emotionally for months before he was ready to give in and fall in love.  After that, we ebbed and flowed with our closeness and fear.  We talked about living together for over a year before I finally said, "Move in or I'm moving on."  With that push, Gerard was reluctantly willing to go ahead-- but then we both reeled emotionally from the change and the resulting feelings in each of us.  Six months later, I think we're just finally getting used to it.  And we're both glad that we did it-- we're closer and less scared of our love now that we share a space and a life.

Big questions loom ahead, of course-- the biggest and most vulnerable ones of all.  From many directions, Gerard and I are both receiving information that suggests big commitments for our future.  Our careers are in flux... there's some indication that we might do well to relocate to a completely different part of the country... our siblings are settling down and family life feels more appealing... and I've decided I want a baby.

But just because the signs point us this way doesn't mean that we're ready!  I want us to be ready to get married and go off birth control and buy a property with a baby room... but we're not, not on any level.  Though... perhaps we are ready to start working on being ready.  And that is where this blog begins-- right in that place where we acknowledge our vulnerability, prepare to confront it, and wait to see what happens.