I had a really funny conversation with my massage therapist. I like her quite a bit. She’s a little more than 10 years older than me and when we get to talking about parenting philosophy or health topics or general views on religion we are like two peas in a pod. I’ve been seeing her for over a year now and she’s quite skilled body worker. She keeps me from locking up too much. She also does a whole bunch of other skills like podiatry and acupuncture because she learns whatever her clients need. She absolutely wants a whole book list from me on Ehlers Danlos treatment. She just needs to finish the 18 month course she has been on the whole time I’ve known her before she can start them. She never stops learning. I really like and admire her. She could be a friend. I have a history of that with my body workers. I like people and if I’m going to spend a lot of time with them professionally I usually start crossing the border to social as well. Or I can’t stay with that professional.

I told her about the classes I am going to help my buddy with because she asked what I’ve been up to and it was a rare child-free visit. I went for it. I explained the types of classes and mostly she just nodded her head and looked mildly scandalized but whatever floats people’s boats. She has been somewhat surprisingly open and frank and detailed about how very much she has enjoyed her marital sex life. I know a lot about their sex life so I’m willing to scandalize her a bit.

She latched on to the word polyamory and she told me that her son’s roommate is like that and she is very confused by it. I told her that I was actually living with a previous partner when I met husband and he had a serious girlfriend. She said, “Ok I guess that is fine for when you are just dating but once you got married surely that all stopped–didn’t it?”

I laughed and laughed. Oh honey, no. I told her about the people we dated while married before we had kids. I told her about the swinger parties. The friends we would occasionally hook up with when it seemed fun.

“But, but, but you were married you are only supposed to want that with your husband!”

I said, “You know how when you get married that doesn’t mean you never want to go see a movie with a friend or play a game of basket ball with friends–right?”

“Yes.”

“Well I don’t really like going to the movies and I suck at basket ball so having sex with them is a lot more fun.” She almost fell over laughing. She asked me if we are doing that since we moved here and I said we are not. I explained what couples privilege is. I asked her if she saw a spot in the life we lead where no one would notice or mind if husband and I started being out the necessary number of hours a week it would take to find quality people to bang.

Once again she laughed hard enough to fall sideways and have to catch herself. I felt like I was on a roll. She asked if I thought we would ever sleep with someone else again and I said we might. Life is long.

Then she told me about one time when she was away at a conference a man tried very hard to pick her up. She was absolutely appalled and horrified that a married man would do that. Then she found out that he usually has a few people on the side at all times because why would anyone want to settle for just one partner for the rest of their lives?

I told her that the horrified feeling she gets at the idea of not being 100% monogamous is entirely absent from my life. I am as naturally monogamous as a cat in heat. I choose monogamy for strategic reasons. She then told me that she learns so very much from our conversations.

Then she asked about the scabs on my arms and I got to explain about the photo shoot we did. Once again she could not work for a bit until she got her laughing under control. She says we are all crazy.

Sure. Why not?

Every time I come in she schedules me extra far out so she can get me in on the pacing I like the best. She says she absolutely cannot wait until our next appointment every time I see her.

I don’t know that it will ever be ok to be as fully out here as I was in California but people who are going to be that close to my body frequently need to be people who can handle going from trauma to injury detail to hilarious sex stories without feeling too freaked out. If you work with my body I’m going to have to talk about my body and it has been through a lot. I can tell you which flinch comes from what thing in the past.

The old friends I would absolutely fuck again if the opportunity arose were there before I knew how to talk about my body. Many of them helped me develop the words because they cared and asked me questions. We put in years of relationship work to get to where “Wanna come over for the weekend to fuck then go home and not see each other for a decade?” feels like the continuing beat of a long ago favorite song. I don’t have the time or ability to go through that process with anyone new and I am not going to any decade soon. And I negotiated away the right to ask for it, anyway. I don’t think I’m going to explain that part to her though. That somehow seems like something that might cross the line from “Aren’t you wacky” to “Are you ok and do you need help getting away from that man?”

Y’all. I used to write about kinky shit on Facebook and my dentist would leave comments. I was out.

Here husband and I had a conversation about the fact that as long as he wants to do the work he does we should not play in public. We are not in Kansas anymore, Toto.

The closet is weird.