If You Knew The Real Me, You Would Shit Your Pants

So, this is me.  The “real” me.  The me that only one person in this world truly knows, and that is my husband.  I live a world of make-believe.  I become the person that is expected of me by others, because that is the way that I was taught.  Don’t let out your emotions, because no one wants to see or hear them.  Be perfect.  Be smart.  Now, my momma and daddy never said those things, but when you’re a child growing up in the south in the 80’s, where every neighbor knows your business and is ready to tell your granny or momma on you, you learn quickly to play a role.  I just take mine to every aspect of my life even as an adult.

I am a professional in her early 40’s.  I have multiple degrees, I have a great job, perfect friends, gracious family, princess of a cat, and live a life most women would kill for.  I have been married to the most amazing man for almost half my life, and he is the only person that knows the real me.  I share everything with him, almost.  I mean, what woman wants all of her secrets out in the open?

So, this is the real me.  I am a woman in love with her husband, but who keeps a friend with benefits.  I turned 40 last year, and it was like a bomb went off in my body.  I went into heat, and it has not slowed down.  My husband can not keep up, so he opened our marriage up to approved others.  This has been a wild ride of sexual adventure and awakenings, and this blog, this proverbial message in the bottle, is my way of saying all of the things to the lovers I have had in that time that I never could.  It is my way of working through the bat shit crazy that leading this double life leads to, a way to express myself without hurting anyone, including myself.  These are the texts, letters and phone conversations never had, that I needed to have.  Instead, I am tucking them neatly inside of this blog/bottle, sealing them with a cork, and throwing them out into the online ocean as a way to release and move on.  If they help someone else, well that would just be the icing on the cake.  Here’s to a new year, a more expressive me, and lots more kinky fuckery!