I recently told my partner of a year that I couldn’t marry them. They brought up marriage shortly after we found out we were pregnant and moved into a new home together, and the look on my face must have conveyed how complex my feelings are toward getting married a third time. I told them it wasn’t a no, just not right now.
The knee-jerk reaction of fear made me incredibly sad. The thought of marriage made me instantly claustrophobic, despite admitting that raising a child together and purchasing a home with this partner was a far greater entanglement of…
I was two years into my first marriage. I had arrived at a sex toy party that a friend from work had thrown, showed up early and brought a chocolate fountain. Later, in a circle of giggling, half-drunk women, the seller at the party pointed at me and said “You’re the biggest prude in the room. You showed up early, brought food, you’ll probably help clean up, too. I’ve got you pegged.”
My face was red with embarrassment, not because he had me pegged at all, but because showing up to that party to begin with, to buy a vibrator…
Coffee snob. Horror writer. Tall. Polyamorous, pansexual, queer nerd.