Friday, January 20, 2017

Gratitude List

Along with the day my first wife and I parted ways, the day I lost a good friend on 9/11, and the day nine years ago when the economy tanked and my career was set adrift for the next eight years, the day Donald Trump ascends to the presidency (happening at this very hour) represents one of the darkest days of my life.  I truly fear for America, for the world, for the people who are too powerless to stand up to a global era of tyranny that is being introduced as the most powerful country on earth inexplicably puts its future in the hands of someone who is singularly unprepared for the job, and whose incompetence is only matched by his profound and malignant narcissism.  I proudly assume my new role as a member of the resistance. I will fight as often as I can, and as loudly as I can, to push back at the wave of horror that surely awaits us, beginning today.

But today -- today is a day when I focus on beauty. Like the kid in American Beauty, who says, "Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world, I feel like I can't take it.  And my heart is just going to cave in."  There is so much I'm grateful for.  I did a gratitude list for my IRL friends, but here I'm going to do one for my sugar life.

I'm grateful today:
  1. That I'm alive and healthy, with a body that still does what I want it to do (most of the time)
  2. That I'm married to the most beautiful woman on earth
  3. That my children are healthy, gorgeous, and outstanding human beings
  4. That for the past eight and a half years I've met dozens of lovely, kind-hearted young women who loaned me their delicious bodies and agile minds for a few hours each month.  They have no earthly idea the value that they have had for me.
  5. That I spent three delightful years with the lovely C/Hayden, and that today she's happily married and maintaining her health.  I pray for her every day.
  6. That music exists to soothe my soul, and will, every day, for the rest of my life.
  7. That I, my family, my relatives, and my friends are all safe from harm.
  8. That I'm able to protect and provide for my family.
  9. That it's raining today in California, and will again tomorrow, and the next day.
  10. That my parents are alive and well and married for nearly 60 years.
  11. That my siblings and their families are well and living nearby.
  12. That there is still so much more for me to learn.
Tomorrow my eyes may not recognize beauty, but I'm betting that eventually they will.  I hope to communicate that beauty to all of you in the days, weeks, and months to come.

Friday, January 13, 2017

Therapy Begins

Earlier this week, DW and I had our first of what I hope to be many sessions with a therapist. I had no expectations going in, although I did put DW on notice ahead of the session that I preferred a therapist who was older, not an intern (it is common with "counseling centers" that some of the therapists are actual interns, grad students doing their rotations of different practicums before completing their masters degrees), and someone who had some experience with couples dealing with issues of extramarital sex.  I just believed that some 20-something or 30-something student would lack the breadth of life experience that both of us would need to get past my infraction.

As we settled in with the therapist, who appeared to be in her 30s and an intern, I had to let go of my expectations.  After all, the session was supposed to be mostly information gathering on the therapist's part, and not a whole lot of questions or digging deeply into our pasts.  She said that she also worked with a senior therapist in the center who would be her guide, but that she was also sensitive to our wanting the therapist to be a good fit for us. We could ask for someone else if we chose.

The session gave DW her first opportunity to tell someone about what had happened -- the "triggering event," I called it. She still hadn't spoken to a single person about this, despite my assurances that I was OK if she wanted to confide in a close friend. She told the therapist that I had "cheated" on her.  I fully expected her to use that word. The therapist reflected back, as she took notes, "OK, so infidelity." I also fully expected that word to come out as well.  I sat there and kept my mouth shut.

In my mind, however, I believed that what I had done was not cheating.  The word "cheating" is so loaded and full of judgment, and faced with the layers of facts in our relationship -- the lack of communication, her consistent refusal to participate in efforts to resolve our sexual issues over the last nine years, and the fact that I kept coming home without seriously considering ending our marriage -- what I did actually looks to me like the opposite of cheating. But if we're going to insist that it is cheating, then I got cheated too.  Cheated out of an intimate relationship with the woman I love, for nine years.  As far as "infidelity" goes, I'll accept that I engaged in sexual infidelity, but that's it. I was never fully disloyal toward the relationship.  But I admit that I did not do enough to fight for it once I realized and accepted that our sex life was over.

The telling of her side of the story looked, from my vantage point, to be cathartic for DW. Let's face it: the woman has a busy life. She works full time, we have two young children with busy lives, and my work requires me to be available almost all the time. She's said many times that at the end of her busy day, the last thing she wants is physical contact with anyone.  Sleep is her sex and she wants it all the time.  Coupled with the onset of menopause, I get why sex has no appeal for her, and I get why she saw sex as one more thing she had to do for the marriage rather than for her enjoyment. But she doesn't exist in a vacuum, and her choices had ramifications for more than just her. When a wife decides that not only is not interested in having sex, but in talking with her husband about why she's not interested or in resolving the problem, there are consequences. While I regret the she is hurt by what I did to meet my own needs, I feel absolutely zero guilt about meeting my own needs in a way I felt was best not only for me but for us.

When it was my turn, I methodically laid out the timeline of how I arrived at the place I was, pausing frequently to get DW's agreement on the facts. I maintained that if we were going to arrive at a clearing place with each other and create the conditions where we can be present for one another, we first needed to agree on the facts.  DW agreed with everything I laid out.  When I got to the end, I said that, when confronted with the dilemma of either telling her I wanted to see other women or just doing it in secret, I opted for the latter because I believed that either way she'd seek a divorce. DW disagreed slightly and said she'd have at least listened to me, but she had never shown a willingness to do much listening when I brought up our pathetic sex life, so to me the choice was easy even though I preferred being out in the open.  I've written that in this blog many times.  "In a way, I'm glad [she found out], because now we're talking about what has been bothering me for years," I said.

One surprise for me: she confessed that, in the past couple of weeks, she wanted to have sex with me, but opted not to because she felt she wasn't fully ready.  As I saw it, her armor was now irretrievably cracked, and it was only a matter of time before she let herself trust me again.

We ran out of time, and resolved to come back the next week.  I'm taking this a week at a time right now, and I have no expectations that DW will remain enthusiastic about therapy, because she has never shown herself to be otherwise. We walked to the car, arms around each other.  On the way home, I asked her about the other day when she gave me a hand job and I saw her touching herself. She said she couldn't fully remember that she even did it, that I touched her, or why she did it.  I found that a bit strange, so I am holding onto that for now to see if she lets me touch her again. We spent the next hour alone at home, preparing dinner, talking, and getting ready to pick one of the kids up at sports practice.  I thought about suggesting sex, but it would have been too contrived.

That night, for some reason, I didn't sleep at all. While at work the next day, I sent DW a text: "Even though I'm exhausted right now, I think we should smoke some weed tonight and fool around a bit (no penetration). Thoughts?" I received an encouraging emoji in response.  We did smoke the weed, and both of us fell asleep, but in the morning we made out a little, and she ended up giving me another expert hand job.

At work today, I'm hopeful, determined, and optimistic, but also completely open-eyed. We'll see what develops over time.

NOTE: readers will ask why DW works full time. Shouldn't a successful sugar daddy have a wife who is well-cared for and who doesn't need to work? During the recession, when money was tight, she had to go back to work, and for a time her income matched mine.  But I've fully recovered from those dark days now, so if DW didn't want to work anymore, she could stop. But she's been at her job now for six years and she loves not only the work, but her work family. It's an incredibly close-knit group, and we have regularly socialized with many of her co-workers, including her boss. Her income now goes into the kids' college funds and to her retirement.

Thursday, January 12, 2017

Reader Comments Now Moderated

I have been receiving comments from one reader that I have determined are malicious and potentially threatening.  As a result, all comments from this point forward are moderated, and only some will be published. Sorry to have to do this, as I have enjoyed the comments I have received to date from all my readers, and appreciate unfiltered feedback.  Given the sensitivity of my current posts, however, I must take this necessary step.

I respectfully request that readers take care in the future to be respectful and to refrain from malicious comments. This blog has been very helpful to me over the years and I hope to continue publishing.

Monday, January 9, 2017

A Note of Clarification

If you go back and read my previous post, you'll see a comment someone posted at the bottom. It was a criticism of not only my post, but of my whole outlook at a Sugar Daddy. It was a personal attack on me that was based on a false judgment, and there's simply no time in my life to allow stuff like that to hang out there.

I will say that there was one kernel of truth in there, and I'm going to share it with you. One thing the commenter wrote, which I'm roughly quoting here, was, "You're going to bang the next 27 year old girl as soon as you're able." And, the truth is, the commenter is probably right. I say "probably" because I'm not yet certain of it. My objective right now is healing the wounds in my marriage, repairing the trust I've had with my wife for so many years.  Once that's done, however, the two of us need to chart the path forward. The path forward will absolutely include my continuing to have a rewarding sex life, on my terms.  DW can join me on that path and enjoy a good amount of fun, or she can step aside and let me do my thing, or we can work out something where both can happen at the same time (my preferred option).  If none of that works for her and she has no workable solutions of her own, then I'll have to move on, purely because I don't deserve a wife who won't do the work needed to move the relationship forward.

The one big qualification I want to make about this deleted comment is this: if I do head back out there and have sex with "the next 27 year old girl," it will no longer be in secret. My days of being a husband who secretly cheats on his wife are over. There's no way to go back to it. If I have sex with other women, it will have to be out in the open (with her, as opposed to our whole community), with DW's full knowledge and consent.  That actually seems like it would be more fun.

I know how this reads: like I'm being totally selfish and thinking only of myself. Complete and utter bullshit. If you go back and read my blog, especially this post right here, you will see that my love and commitment to DW and our family, and all that surrounds them, does not and will never waver.  I think what's really hard for some people to understand is that all men, not just me, have certain aspects of their identities that are unbreakable.  For me, they are the pillars, the foundation, the places where I simply won't compromise for anything or anyone. I call them my terms. I have terms around my purpose in life, my spirituality, my identity as a husband, a father, my work, and yes, my sexuality. Some men go their whole lives not having the vocabulary to articulate what, exactly, their terms are, but in my self-work over the past 20 years I've done that.  In all other areas of my life, I'm willing to compromise and be cooperative, but when someone -- including my wife -- comes up against my terms, that person knows clearly that they will not be able to go any further. My sexual terms became known to me through my three-year relationship with C/Hayden, and now that I know them, I will never again sell myself out in order to satisfy another person. I imagine that someday, when I'm old and my equipment no longer works and I have no desire for sex, I'll revisit these terms and decide if they still mean something, but for now, there's no budging.

Having these terms means DW can know exactly where she fits into my life, and how we can create the relationship we want to have with each other.  She may not like some of my terms, but because she knows she can count on them and on me -- and despite what she or anyone else might think, I've never given her any reason to think otherwise -- she'll respect them.  Or not.  And if not, there's no relationship.

Friday, January 6, 2017

Intimacy Returning, Slowly

Over the holiday weekend, DW and I spent a lot of time together, actively mending the broken lines of communication that over the years have fallen to neglect.

The night before New Year's Eve, she and I did a "burning bowl" exercise.  There are several different versions of this exercise around, but the one we did involved a glass bowl, a few colored candles, some paper strips, and our open hearts.  We wrote on the paper the things -- emotional baggage, events, etc. -- that we wanted to unload for the next year, and then lit them using one of the candles, dropping the lit paper into bowl until it turned to ash. Each candle had a different color, to signify the different kinds of burning we wanted to do. For example, a brown candle symbolized "Earth energy," where we could use that energy to transform the negative experience or emotion into something positive.

The exercise took some work.  DW was having trouble connecting to it because all she could see around her were the negative things, and was unsure of how to transform them.  The death of her father last May hangs over her like a gray cloud, and with the upcoming choice of headstone in the near future, as well as the marking of his grave, she just doesn't see a way to burn that away. Similarly, she's struggling to let go of the whole infidelity incident.  I led by example. "I want to turn the secrets we've been keeping into openness," I said, and I lit a paper with the word "secrets" written on it using the white candle, which symbolized purity and light (light out of darkness).  That seemed to do the trick, but it still wasn't easy.

When we were all done, we then read to each other a list of goals we wanted to achieve in the next year.  Normally, these goals are written on a sheet of paper and then put into an envelope, which is sealed with the melted wax of the candles, not to be broken or opened until the next New Year's Eve. But in the interest of transparency we shared our goals with each other.

One surprising goal DW had was "coming to terms" with her sexuality, whatever it is.  She is open to seeing if she's straight, gay, or asexual. She admitted to having sexual feelings towards women in the past, though none that she's ever thought of acting upon.

That night we slept close to one another, periodically reaching out and holding each other.  early the next morning, I crept up close behind her, reached around to hold her, and whispered in her ear, "Will you touch me?"  She could feel that I was hard and she knew what I meant. She took hold of me and stroked me, the first time she'd shown any sexual inclinations toward me in about six months.  It wasn't going to take her long to get me off.

At one point I opened my eyes to look at her, because she had taken one hand off of me.  She sometimes did that when her arm got tired, but we were literally just a minute or so into this, so I wondered what was up. She had her other hand between her legs, stroking herself.  This was a shock to me; DW never, ever, ever, touched herself -- at least not that I ever saw.  Maybe she was turned on, or maybe she was just seeing how it felt -- I just don't know.  Anyway, I could have let it go, but her hand jobs are much better with two hands.  I started stroking her instead, and she resumed stroking me with two hands.  I hadn't touched my wife's pussy in a very long time, and I climaxed in about a minute just from being so excited.

After I came, I just burst into tears and kissed her. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed her touch. Nothing more has happened since then, as I haven't made any advances.  But the stage has been set, and you can bet that, with the help of a good therapist, DW and I will be moving back into more sexual territory.

Tuesday, December 27, 2016

Latest Post on Let's Talk Sugar

My latest blog post on Let's Talk Sugar has been posted.  It offers some advice to SBs who are on the receiving end of a married Sugar Daddy's abrupt departure from her life (and the sugar bowl, in general).

Enjoy!

Thursday, December 22, 2016

Update on My Marriage

My DW and I will be starting marriage counseling next month.  This, after a conversation we had the day after I saw my therapist.

First I told her that I could sympathize with her. She'd said last weekend that part of her pain was because she felt "embarrassed" at not being able to please me sexually.  In her words, "I can't even do the basics of a wife well." A few days later, after I'd had time to process that, I said, "I can definitely sympathize.  I was embarrassed too.  I couldn't get my wife to have sex with me."

Then, I plainly put it to her that, while we could spin around and around talking about my "infraction," the only way we were going to get past it was to speak to someone impartial, who is trained to listen and to offer guidance.  At first, I didn't think she took me seriously, but the next day she told me as we were preparing dinner that she'd made a call to a local counseling center and that we would schedule an appointment in January.  I gave her a kiss and thanked her.  "You were pretty clear with me that it was the only way to move ahead," she said, "so I took you at your word."

I had just gotten done telling my therapist that I didn't think she'd ever agree to therapy, having walked out of therapy five years ago before we started talking about sex, and having told me just a week or so ago that she didn't think there was anything useful to get out of therapy, either for herself or for us.  I guess she's more invested in the marriage than she realized, and doesn't want a divorce.

Meanwhile, I keep getting text messages from old sugar contacts.  Two days ago one sent me a nude pic and asked me to keep her warm.  I said I was off the market and she didn't respond.

I'm staying out of touch with everyone, including Mel.  I miss her a lot though, and I think of her often.  Maybe, when DW and I agree on terms for me having sex outside the marriage, I'll get to see her again, but I'm not holding out any hope.

Happy Everything!