You Problems

By now I’ve more or less embraced “that sounds like a you problem” as a part of my sarcastic repertoire. Admittedly it hurt at first and yet, now that I understand it and I’ve embraced it, I’ve gone from powerless to powerful – as if some people think I needed that. The difference is that Matt is in on the ‘you problem’ joke now too, so if he’s complaining about something then I can just say “Matt…” and he realises. I don’t just outright cut him down, no way, I’m not that much of an asshole!

If you’re new around here, then just quickly, the backstory is that not too long ago I was in an eighteen-monthish long-distance poly relationship. The relationship started very intensely with immediate mutual attraction but it turned rife with issues (jealousy, put-downs, controlling behaviours, among others) and ended with him deciding that he wanted a monogamous BDSM relationship, not polyamory. The on-off relationship was a roller-coaster ride full of amazing highs and terrible lows that ended completely about eight months ago. I entered a relationship with fellow blogger and close-friend-turned-poly-partner, Bill, a few weeks later, and life has been pretty blissful ever since.

I’ll admit it, he was right that one time he said that the relationship was toxic. I was conflict-avoidant when I really should have (and perhaps even wanted to) told him to go take a long walk off of a short pier. As it stands, I grew up in a home where we were routinely criticised, gaslit and dismissed, and if you were ever mistreated for answering back, Dear Reader, then I’m pretty sure that you’d be conflict-avoidant, too! I am getting better at not avoiding conflict and I am getting better at standing up for myself, but if I know or get the feeling that somebody is going to blow up on me for telling them how I feel (and he did, a few times)? No way, I’ll just cut my losses instead. In order to have a healthy relationship, I need someone with patience, compassion and empathy – I think that’s pretty normal!

Since that relationship I have created a new boundary: Nobody will ever disrespect me again, and if they do, they certainly won’t get away with it three times. The second we can no longer have a civilised, respectful conversation, I will take my leave. I will warn them twice, and after that, there’ll be no fourth chances. If I can afford others decency and respect then I expect that same level of decency and respect afforded to me. I’m even fine with sarcasm – correction, I’m fine with light, playful sarcasm between friends, but not if it’s done to make one feel superior. Again I grew up with that and now that I know what it’s used for, it ain’t cool.

Also snce that relationship, and as I mentioned earlier, I am pleased to say that life has been going up and up. I like to think of it in a way as karma at play, that something somewhere saw my misfortune and decided that I deserved a little good luck to make amends. We turned the lounge around and my to-do list is consistently at 40-50 items most days, which sounds a lot, but most of those are banal tasks that I’d probably forget about were it not for the app. My relationship with Bill is going great, I’ve made some more wonderful penpals and I had my first offer of an extended collaboration and affiliate programme yesterday, for Kinky With A Twist. I won’t say a lot right now because I don’t want to do any accidental promotion for free, but I’m very excited about this opportunity. They do want a free review though, so I’ve asked if I will be allowed to keep the product I’m supposed to be reviewing as a payment or whether I will have to return that, too. Hey, as us dog trainers say, NILIF 😉

I’m also trying to stay humble because while I may have lots of goodness right now, nothing lasts forever and the higher you climb, the farther you have to fall. Humility, everything in moderation, yada yada.

But for as much as “that sounds like a you problem” has become a part of me now then I have – apparently and sometimes – become almost borderline annoying with it.

“Wolf…” I grin.

“Kitten, if you ‘that sounds like a you problem’ me one more time, I will give you something that will most certainly be all your problem. Is that something you want?” Matt warns. I gasp at the threat and shake my head.

“Well then, behave” he says. I’m immediately repent.

“Yes Daddy. Sorry, Daddy” I say. “Although, now that you mention it…”

Yesterday I contemplated spoiling myself. After my good news, I was in the mood for a touch of celebration. Nothing too much, just a nice drink while I worked, or a cake, or something similar. Something to bring a bit more pleasure while I write about pleasure. Ahem.

I remember the jokes Matt once made about “important blogger people” who go to (and blog from) Starbucks and, now that I, seemingly, am an “important blogger person”, I felt like it was something that I deserved. I wasn’t going to go all the way into Broadmead just to make a point and be an “important blogger person”. No way, I’m not that petty!

But I was petty enough to order myself a chai tea latte and have it delivered instead, maybe.

I’ll admit, I absolutely adore my masala chai: hot, cold, white, dark, sweetened, unsweetened, I don’t care, I drink them all. Hot, white, sweet and from Starbucks, though? Well, if you insist on spoiling a girl.

I can’t deny that the ‘sweet and spicy’ connotation often brings a wry smile to my face when I order, too.

Still, £5.50 for the drink? I want to treat myself, sure, but it’s still just a drink, not a whole meal. I can get my lunch from Tesco for almost half of that!

So I decide to pass it up, though not before making a passing jab at Matt over Facebook. You got away lightly this time, punk.

A few minutes later and the bedroom door swings open.

“What do you want, tall or grande?” Matt asks.

“No, it costs too much Wolf. It’s fine” I say.

“Tall or grande?” he pushes. I remember the lessons that have been drilled into me so many times before and I soften my stance. You deserve it.

“…Tall, please” I sigh, “and thankyou.”

If there’s one thing I like, it’s a man who isn’t afraid to concede, a loser who loses in good faith, who doesn’t get vicious or vindictive. Nobody likes to lose, no, but a good loser ultimately wins. To me, good sportmanship is so incredibly sexy. It makes me want to play again and again.

I think, and by a large part, then the reason that Matt and I are where we are is our team mentality and good sportsmansship. We both lose well and sometimes we even play dirty. I won’t lie and say that I haven’t worn alluring perfumes or V-neck tops with necklaces that dangle and distract to the pool hall, nobody ever plays pool with the intention of losing. Well, apart from a different ex of mine maybe, but that’s another story.

By dinnertime last night, we realised that we were in a bit of a predicament. Lamb & pistachio tagine isn’t such if you don’t have any pistachios in.

“So, be that as it may, what do you want to eat?” I ask, I sit on the bed and relax back against my hands as I watch Matt. My inference is intentional, though my invitation isn’t. Above all else I just want his attention for the moment while we sort out the subject of food, and if perchance it escalates, then…

We settled for a chicken & pesto pizza in the end, with salad. While he cooks, I have a little something to take care of, again. When Matt comes to wake me for food, he notices my rechargeable wand beside me on the bed.

“Oh” he says, almost saddened. Shit.

“Wolf, it’s not that I didn’t, it’s just that… sometimes one isn’t enough” I shrug. “A man can be very good at what he does, but he can also be not quite so good if he pops off prematurely and leaves a woman half-baked” I say, I bury my head on my arms as I wait for his response. Did I honestly just say that?

Greedy girl, my inner monologue reminds me. I growl at her in response.

“I think I prefer this” Matt says of our pizza, “it’s quicker and cheaper than buying a takeaway, and it’s healthier, too.”

“So instead of post-sex pizza, we’re now going to have some in-case-of-sex pizza dough mix in?” I tease.

“Yep” he grins, “put it a break glass box on the wall.”

The last laugh is mine, and I’m on Amazon to see how much putting his plan into action would cost us.

“No! Kitten no” he says as he tries to stop me, “it will raise so many questions”. I grin at him and Matt smiles back and raises his palm. Daddy’s problems can become my problems still. Duly noted.

“A pasword book?” he asks, noting my search, “what do you need a password book for? Can you not just remember them?”

“What do you need a password app for? Can you not just remember them?” I shoot back. I’ll admit, it’s way more sarcastic than I intended.

“Alright, Little Miss Sassypants!” he laughs, “watch I don’t make you come again, get all of that attitude out of you”.

“No Daddy, I’m sensitive” I blush.

“Sounds like a you problem” he whispers into my ear and I playfully bite his arm in response. Ass.

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