Browse Tag by growth
Adventure, divorce, Life Changes, moving on, Separation, Sex Education, Travel, Uncategorized

Gratitude & Freedom

Last Thursday, I had an 11 hour day of work + class, but my workshop on threesomes, swinging, and orgies was super fun! I’ll definitely want to take that one on the road. 

Ooooh. Maybe I could get paid to host sex parties/play parties for beginners a day7-smiling-face-with-heart-shaped-eyes or two after the workshops I teach. I could do this all around the country, and even interview folks about their experiences with my workshops and parties. A girl can dream, right?

I having been hanging out in Edna the Sex Ed Mobile and parked in my best friend’s driveway. My mini fridge isn’t working properly in here so I’m refrigerating some things in my friend’s house. I had gone straight for some hummus and crackers when I got home from work, but once I was finished eating, I needed to go put the hummus back in her fridge. The lights were off in the house though, so I wanted to make sure she didn’t think I was a burglar. I sent her a text to see if she was awake.

I realized while typing my texts, that since I stay in her driveway in the front yard and her bedroom is on the same side of the house, we were realistically only a few feet away from each other. It made me feel like a child again, like I was on a walkie-talkie with one of my siblings while we’re camping. Or I felt like we were two best friend neighbors, like all of the ones from my favorite 90’s sitcoms, and there was just a Trådtelefon-illustrationhomemade tin can telephone between us.

I told her this via text. She responded with one my favorite texts I’ve received to date:

“Haha. Best friend one to best friend two. Over aaaaannd out!”

I just love it when my friends get my weird brain and send me something funny in return/play along.

Speaking of, I am feeling extra grateful for friends lately. I have been able to have Edna stationed here most of this month because of my friend’s generosity, and I have been able to prevent my depression from taking over during a very difficult transition and instead emotionally thrive witfennec-1020950_960_720h support from amazing human beings.

The progress I have been making on everything has been slow though, or at least it is feeling too slow for me. However, when I am gentle with myself, I realize that I am making progress in multiple giant areas of my life all at once (starting a business/transitioning into a different kind of career, working through years of grief and trauma, going through a separation, redefining relationships, etc.). So, of course things are going to take time and I am not going to instantly have everything perfectly together and running smoothly.

Considering I have only been out of my house for a month, I am actually pretty proud of what I have accomplished. Edna feels like home already, I am making a lot of new friends and strengthening many of my existing relationships, I co-founded a femme social and sex education meet up group, my husband and I are talking through text and getting along as family even if we aren’t partners, I’ve taught workshops, walked in the Pride Parade, continued doing my regular job, and I am feeding myself (even if it isn’t the healthiest I’ve ever been in my life). I also had a birthday, went on a camping trip, and set up a big interview for a new podcast that will begin recording at the end of this summer.

I list those accomplishments not to brag or to fish for praise, but because it is important for me to continue working on lifting myself up and staying on track. My life goal once was to have a polyamorous family with multiple partners, be a mother, have lots of dogs, live in the country in a spacious Victorian home or farmhouse, and have a successful career as an educator and event planner. I am nowhere close to being on track for that anymore, and I know that some parts of that dream will never be able to happen. Yet, I am hopeful. Not hopeful for those dreams to come true anymore, but hopeful that I will heal and love and find my way and feel free.

Adventure, divorce, DIY, Life Changes, Motorhome, moving on, Personal Blog, RV Lifestyle, self-discovery, Separation, Sex Education, Tiny House, Travel, Uncategorized

Edna’s Lucky Day

It was almost 90 degrees and I had not gotten much sleep the night before. I knew I had to go to the DMV anyway, because St. Edna the Sex Mobile needed license plates and to be properly registered. I was expecting it to be a mildly miserable experience, like most trips to the DMV, but what happened next made me start wondering if luck is on my side. It made me DMVfeel like I really am on my own hero’s journey and may have just met my mentor.

I grabbed a number: 180. Number 130 was currently being called. Knowing there were 50 people ahead of me, I settled into one of the few open seats and started playing Blendoku on my phone. I felt a sneeze coming on and politely covered my mouth and squeaked out a high-pitched “achoo!”

A few people said “bless you,” including an older gentleman to my right. Then he told me he was an ear doctor and could tell by my sneeze that I was congested and asked if I wanted any advice. I appreciated that he asked instead of just offering, so we talked about sinuses for a while and about how his grandmother had a very loud sneeze that would startle people. Any time someone would sit in a chair near us he nodded and said hello. I could tell he was genuinely friendly and liked humans.

Eventually our numbers were called and we finished our transactions around the same time. I went out to the parking lot with new plates for Edna and he was parked a few spots away. “Is that your new toy?” he asked as his eyes lit up.Edna

“Sure is. Her name is St. Edna.”

“St. Edna? I like that. Like Edna St. Vincent Millay?”

“That’s who she is named after!” I was excited that someone had made the connection without me pointing it out.

Then this kind stranger told me that he had lived the RV life for 12 years. He asked what work needed to be done on it and I told him. It turns out he has most of the parts I need, and he was going to donate them because he has a new 30 foot trailer and doesn’t need them any longer.

He also had pliers in his trunk that would get the rusted old New Jersey plates off Edna , just in case I didn’t have any with me (I didn’t). He asked if I wanted help removing the plates and I said yes. Now, normally it would weird me out that a stranger was paying attention to me in the DMV parking lot, but this guy was like Mr. Rogers. He told me about Mr.-Rogershis son (who is around my age), his hearing clinic, and his land on the Washougal River. In fact, he said, he had an RV spot on that land that has water and electricity hookups and I would be welcome to stay there any time I wanted, free of charge!

We chatted a while longer while he walked around Edna to makes notes of what he has that might work for her. He also reached up into her outdoor light fixture by the back door and knocked out a hornet’s nest. Whoa. This dude is like the dad I never had but always wanted, and I met him at the DMV!

I got his business card and promised to email. I will definitely be following up. There is a lot to learn when being new to an RV lifestyle, and now I know a friendly fatherly figure with land, tools, supplies, and advice (that he always asked if I wanted to hear first). A mentor who uses consent language, reminds me of my childhood role model, and who offers me free parking on a beautiful river that is only 40 minutes from work? What a lucky day!

Adventure, divorce, Life Changes, moving on, Personal Blog, Relationships, self-discovery, self-love, Separation, Sex Education, Travel, Uncategorized

First Fig

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On Sunday, I finished moving out of the house I had lived in with my husband for six years. When I showed up to get the rest of my stuff, the entire house had been rearranged. The dining room and living room furniture had been switched, my art didn’t decorate the walls, and there is now a guitar stand in the bedroom where my dresser used to be. My bed is still there because it won’t fit in my RV, but it is no longer my happy place, my sanctuary, where I am able to go for comfort. My bed- our bed -is his bed now, and it will be the bed he shares with others.

Truthfully, the house looks better than it ever has. The design is simpler, it is less crowded, less youthful, and there aren’t bottles of nail polish all over the bathroom counter and bedroom night stands. The air feels different there, and I am genuinely happy that my husband gets to have a fresh start even though he is staying in the house we had made a home together. I was worried it would be hard for him to move on when he was surrounded by so many memories, but this transition already seems like a good step forward for him. For both of us. We are finding ourselves – the selves we were before we started trying to change to accommodate each other – and we’re hopefully creating better versions of ourselves.

My new life has arrived, and while it feels somewhat familiar because I am still the main character, everything else is rapidly changing. Each day since I have been out of the house has felt like I’m writing my coming of age story, except this story isn’t about leaving youth and becoming an adult. In fact, I feel more in touch now with my younger self than I have in years. I am healing old wounds, nurturing my inner child, and becoming an adult who embraces my nature, my flaws, and my power.

Any of the ways I had tried to tone myself down – to be more likable, more passive, to be less saucy, less scrappy, or be less emotional – are now all coming back to me. Basically, I tried to be less like a rebellious teenager and less difficult to love. I knew my personality was sometimes “too big” to be liked or understood by everyone, but I thought I could tweak it enough to be a cherished wife, lover, and friend. I knew I didn’t want the classic American Dream, but I thought I could potentially have a modified version of it. Even though I tried again and again, I just never fit into being a middle class 9-5 worker. I never fit into traditional monogamy. I was too queer for the straights and too in love with men to be considered “really queer.” And after three years of infertility,  I realized that even motherhood was not an option for me like it was for so many other folks.

I’m understanding now that I’m destined for something weirder. A different kind of life and adventure. I am meant to lovingly embrace the parts of myself that I tried to change for others. I am trying to see those parts of myself as unique gifts to offer something new to the world, or at least to those who want what I have to offer.

Honestly, I don’t know if I really believe in destiny, or in the Universe or God having a plan for each of us. I don’t necessarily think everything happens for a reason, because sometimes life/the world is full of random chaos, strange coincidences, and people actively and often willfully sabotaging themselves and others. However, believing that I’m starting an epic tale, or at least a somewhat exciting journey that will be good for me and the world around me, helps me feel better about all of the changes.