Look, here’s the thing: it’s a betrayal. It’s a betrayal of trust of everyone I’ve ever written about, even if all I say is that they shit rainbows and breed unicorns from their beauty and goodness. It’s a secret. And it’s wrong.
This sex blog thing is hard for me. I mean, really, really hard. My best friend on the planet doesn’t know it exists, The Neighbor surely doesn’t, no one. My career would be affected if it were ever connected to me and I’ve read enough horror stories about women whose broadcasted sex lives have destroyed their entire worlds to be appropriately leery. But here I am. Still typing away.
Last night TN and I had another terrific night together, like Wednesday night quality (I’m having a hard time deciding if the good parts of the roller coaster are when you climb up or when you get to fly down the backside). While chatting before attempting to finish Die Hard 3 (suckled breasts and hard-ons interrupted its completion once again) I mentioned a friend of mine who knows about our affair.
“You know, I thought we agreed not to tell anyone about us,” he said, his feet up on my patio table, crossed at the ankles.
“No, I just said I wasn’t telling anyone.”
“And I agreed to that. I’m a little upset that you’re telling everyone all of a sudden.”
You could have knocked me over with a feather. I’d had no idea. And until I realized I was in love with him back whenever that was, the only people who knew were my best friend and all of you. After that night I told two of my best friends from back home and then some colleagues whom I’ve become extremely close with. It’s roughly 6 people. I’d needed real life support to help me through the ordeal. However, the number of people who don’t know about him is far greater; some of the most important people in my life have no idea, people I consider family and this is what I explained to him.
“Wow, I’m really sorry. I had no idea, TN, truly. I’ve only told some of my newer friends; none of my closest friends whom you’ve met. Not R, C, C, J, K, S, L, C, D, A, Downstairs Neighbor,” and then I listed even more people in my life he’s met that are in the dark. “But I promise I won’t tell anyone else. I really didn’t know you felt this way.”
He seemed relieved. “Thanks, Hy. I really appreciate that. And I know you’re mad at me for not telling any of my friends.”
Again, a feather could’ve done serious damage. “No, not at all, I swear,” I concentrated on my face being as open and guileless looking as possible, “I know you wouldn’t tell them anyway and I really have nothing invested in that. It’s ok with me.”
“Yeah, it doesn’t matter to me.” His desire to keep our relationship close to his chest makes sense based on his personality. He’s extremely private, an introvert to the core, and he doesn’t share the most basic information with his “best friends”. I don’t see it as a reflection on me whatsoever, so before anyone wants to berate him for keeping us on the down low, don’t. If we were boyfriend/girlfriend, then yes, by all means skewer him for being shady, but this is a FWB situation gone slightly awry and I don’t go around shouting about those to my friends, either. He has a right to share or not share, as do I, and I’m comfortable zipping my lips from here on out.
And then I teased him about how this was the first time I’ve had to apologize to him about anything, “Yeah, this is the first time you’ve ever fucked up.”
“Yup, pretty much, I’m awesome like that.”
The conversation struck me deeply, though. If he didn’t like our friends knowing, then certainly he would be furious at discovering this blog. I would surely lose him.
On a personal level, discovery would be devastating. There would be no recovering from my dishonesty and betrayal, my sharing of intimate details of my feelings about him and of our sexual exploits, pictures of him. If my ex-husband ever discovered my writing I imagine it cleaving his heart in two to learn of my struggles with our sex life; he doesn’t know. I feel fraudulent at worst, merely shady as fuck on a good day.
I’ve thought about a 30 day TN Cleanse for the blog, but I’m not sure what good that would do. The posts are already up, Google’s archived them, you all already know about him. I’ve said before that I have two dead sex blogs (may they rest in peace) and the big lessons I learned there were to never tell a real life person about them: not a lover, not a friend, no one; and, if you’re not honest, then there’s no point. The lack of anonymity hurt my writing and stole the very reason for having a blog like this in the first place: freedom to be me in all my fucked up glory.
I’ve cultivated that very place here and I feel free to be me and express every little synaptic message, but the new discovery now is the toll: I’m paying in flesh and fear and guilt.
Professionally, if this blog were ever discovered I would take a serious beat down. I would likely recover, maybe even parlay it into something profitable (no, not like some stupid memoir about how my sex blog ruined my life), but the reveal would be humiliating. No one knows I squirt, can’t orgasm through sex, love cock, been double-stuffed. This isn’t exactly board meeting material. I could be shunned by the community or embraced. I’m not entirely sure and not at all desirous of finding out.
Most women lose their jobs, like she did, others are knocked around (I read an article a few years ago about a handful of female sex bloggers who all either lost their jobs or all their friends, but I can’t find it anywhere now). Writing about sex from a personal point of view just isn’t widely accepted. Not even close. Add in the author being female and it’s even less ok, particularly if she’s not writing about the hot missionary sex she’s having with her husband and one only partner of her life.
My point is that though I love writing here, I am still afraid. Afraid of being found out, afraid of hurting TN and my friends, afraid of the repercussions, yet I persist. Writing is in my blood, I can’t not write. After the death of my second sex blog I didn’t write for 2 or 3 months and I was lost, listless, unfocused. Deciding to switch to WP and start up again was by far one of the smartest decisions I’ve made recently; it’s connected me to wonderful, loving, understanding, challenging, sexy people. I’ve found a community of friends and supporters through this medium.
So, while I shake in my boots, I also turn my face up to the sun and spread my arms wide. I may be a target, but I’m a liberated one.