Archives for posts with tag: awkwardness

People don’t know the half of it but they don’t need to know it either.  ~ Anonymous

My mom was surprised that my dad responded so well to my coming out as poly but I really was not, although I was very relieved.  There are some things between us that I do not think my mom knows about – I’m guessing she does not know about the time my dad walked in on me after just having sex with my then boyfriend.

Yes, that boyfriend, the awful one that caused me to start this blog.  

At the time, I was still living with my parents.  The basement used to be our TV area but things changed and now the top level hosts our family room.  Naturally, b.f. And I wanted some privacy and privacy can be really hard to come by when you’re living with your parents.  We descended to the basement because my parents hardly ever spent time down there, especially when they were two floors above us watching television.  Surely, some sex between the two of us would be safe in the basement, right? Well, it would have been except that I am a slut (really.  I played Janet in Rocky Horror Picture Show for a year in 2005!) and I do not like to put my clothes back on immediately after intercouse.  

Why spoil the mood by putting clothes back on?

Fortunately, b.f. Did put his boxers on.

I say fortunately because as my b.f. Is sitting on the couch and I am curled up next to him completely naked, my very sweet father comes down the stairs and asks us if he can get us anything to drink.

I am mortified.  

The part of my brain that send words to my mouth malfunctioned and all I could say was, “oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.”

My dad, to his credit, immediately turned around and said embarrassedly, “Ok, you’re busy!” He rushed upstairs and needless to say, did not bother us any more that night.  I suspected then and I am positive now that he did not tell my mom.  Everyone involved was embarrassed and just wanted to forget the whole incident. Except, how can you forget something like that, really?  The moment is seared into my brain.

Here’s the weird thing that I am only now realizing in the recall of that terrible event – how my dad reacted brought us closer together.   He kept my confidence and he respected my space.  He did not try to shame me but recognized that I am an adult who deserves intimacy and privacy.  Perhaps he learned the importance of knocking.

A few months later when I announced that I was pregnant, neither of my parents shamed me or got upset.  We accepted that I needed an abortion and we treated it like a logical medical decision because I believe, that is what it is.  Or at least they did.  Unfortunately, the breakup, the hormones, my already too high anxiety, all made me spiral out of control and I spent the next year trying to pick up the pieces.  I eventually was able to pick them up and make my life better but that was only after a lot of misery and heartache.

I guess what I’ve learned is that awkward moments suck in the moment but if handled respectfully can bring two people closer together.  Respect for intimacy earns trust and so I trusted that my dad would accept me.  

I’m still not going to tell my mom about what happened though. Some secrets really are best kept secret.    

 

                                  

 

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Dear Lord, please keep awkward conversations at a minimum today. ~ Anonymous

My “bad” roommate is still living with me and I really want her to move out.  I overheard her today talking with a prospective landlord, which made me happy, although not too happy, as I do not trust that she will be out soon.  The truth of the matter is that I have no idea when she will move out, except that it will be sometime this year, and so I must take every day as it comes and be glad that she spends most of her time in her room.  It also reminds me of a sexually awkward conversation with my mother when I was getting ready to move into where I live now and so I will finally share a funny sexually awkward story with you all.

Probably unsurprisingly, I am into BDSM and I used to be involved with a BDSM support group.  When I broke up with my first dominant, the group was great at helping me feel more confidant as a single person trying to explore the world of bondage.  I also love rainbows and a friend from the group once gave me a flogger made out of rainbow colored yarn.  It’s pretty but not very useful, as it’s thin pieces of rope make it more of a sting-y type of pain and I prefer more of the thud-y type.  (In case you don’t know, “sting-y or thud-y?,” is a common question in the BDSM world to masochists.  I prefer a harder type of hit, because it hurts less to me and when done the right way, actually feels almost like a message.  Try it, if you do not believe me!)

I have a small file cabinet in my room and I keep the flogger in the lower drawer.  This is good, because the drawer looks boring and so other people, like parents, are unlikely to look inside.  

Time travel to three years ago:

 I am so happy because I am finally moving out of my parents’ house!  My parents had been very good to me, but it is time to go.  Hello independence!  My mom is helping me pack and I do not think to volunteer to look through my own filing cabinet….

“What’s this?” She asks, holding my flogger with the multi-colored strings in her hand.

*Oh. My. God. Does she really not know what it is? I can’t believe I have to tell her!*

Gulp.

“It’s a flogger,” I explain, in a quiet voice.  “I don’t really use it.”

“What do you use a flogger for?”

*OH.MY.GOD.*

“It’s used in BDSM….”

In a louder voice: “Why we don’t we look through another part of the room?  I’ll take care of the filing cabinet later.”

Fortunately, my mom let it go and we continued to pack, never mentioning it between us ever again.  My mother does know that I practice Bondage, Domination, & Sadomasochism, but it’s not something we talk about.

*****

My “bad” roommate and I barely talk and although I doubt I would find a flogger in her things, I hope I do not have to help her pack when she moves out.  I will if I have to though.  I wonder what she would do if I asked her which she liked better, sting-y or thud-y? I imagine she would want to leave even sooner – maybe there is a reason for this brightly colored flogger after all?!