Relationships – Kinkology

Small Things, BIG Impact: Connecting With Our Partner(s)

Adulting is tiring.

The duties and responsibilities of day-to-day functioning can put blinders on us that we never consented to.

At the end of the day, our head hits the pillow and we’ve forgotten to let our person(s) know how important they are. If you’re like me, you feel terrible, fade out, get up tomorrow and do it all over again.

Sound familiar?

I don’t like being guilty of this.

As the person who’s usually in charge of things and keeps the machine running, I often forget to let my people know how much they mean to me. I don’t want to do this and I would bet you don’t either.

Most of us WANT to make sure our partner knows we care and love them, but, life’s hustle-bustle can sidetrack our good intentions.

So, how do we correct this?

How do we make sure we’re letting our partner(s) know how important they are to us amidst all this hectic adulting?

Well, I’ve got some simple and EASY things to suggest because they’ve worked for me. Deep in my heart, I hope one, or more, work for you. I’m cheerleading you on this!

Some we’ve heard before. But, the reason for that is because they’re small, tried & true, evergreen gestures that pack a powerful punch.

They work.

Date nigHT

Every magazine, every ‘better intimacy’ advice graphic on socials, our therapists, our BFF’s, ev-ery-one, etc talks about date night.

There’s a reason for that.

Date night is a simple and easy way to say:

you’re important to me
our relationship deserves tending and nurturing
I enjoy your company
tuning-out and focusing on each other has value to me
you deserve my full attention and I desire yours

Seems easy and logical, right?

Yet, we often forget what a powerful impact a regularly scheduled date night can have.

I did.

And, I had to be reminded.

So, I’m reminding YOU! Right now. Right in this moment.

Let me ask you this:

What’s more powerful than letting our partner know you value them SO much, you’ve carved out special time to be present with THEM, and ONLY them?

A regularly scheduled date night is one of the most effective ways to express so very much to your partner without saying a word.

asking what thier intimacy needs are

What you need, and what turns YOU on is not necessarily what your partner needs.

Sometimes, we forget that.

Of course we all have shared pleasures with our partners that compliment our individual wants, needs and desires. But, our shared pleasures often fluctuate and get influenced as our individual interests grow.

That’s why it’s important to ask our partners what is turning them on CURRENTLY.

By asking you partner what’s got them hot right now, the conversation opens for you both to share what’s stirrin’ and how you can provide that for one another.

Knowing what to do to turn on and fulfill your partner is a superpower.

It creates deep(er) intimacy and connection.

LOVE NOTE OR THOUGHTFUL TEXT

Thoughtfulness often tends to fall to the wayside simply because we are over-burdened with the responsibilities of adulting.

It’s not that we’re not thoughtful, it’s just hard to pause and consider a thoughtful gesture when our brain is doing this:

“Ugh, I’m late! I need gas! Did I pay the electric bill? My boss is a jerkoff. Is it my turn to pick up the kids! Shit!…the dog needs food!” and so on and so on.

Most of us understand THAT type of noise in our head. Right?

This is the exact reason a small thoughtful gesture like a little love note or thoughtful text is SO powerful.

The recipient knows you paused among all the madness of adulting to let them know you were thinking about THEM. KaPow!

Thoughtfulness is sexy.

run an errand when it’s not your turn

Every dynamic or relationship has errands.

Whether you cohabitate, only spend weekends together, meet up frequently for play parties, etc, there are shared errands.

If you see your partner juggling too much, use that opportunity to pick up the slack for them. Don’t ask, just do.

ANTICIPATING. NEEDS. IS. SEXY. AF.

OUT OF THE NORM ACTIVITIES

Do activities together that you don’t normally do!

This specific advice, we don’t hear so often.

I didn’t.

But WOW, what an amazing impact it had for me and my partner!

Unfortunately, if we’re not careful, things can get stale in a relationship. By sharing out-of-the-norm activities together new energy gets injected into ourselves, our partner, and the relationship as a whole.

Challenging ourselves in ways that aren’t in our normal wheelhouse, WITH our partner, creates powerful bonding.

Alternate who chooses the out-of-the-norm activity, then, choose one together. Repeat.

Alternating allows you learn TONS about your partner and you get to see them experiencing something THEY enjoy. I mean, what’s more wonderful than witnessing your partner engaged, stimulated, challenged, happy and fulfilled?

When it’s time for the shared-interest activity, commit to picking something that’s a smidge outside BOTH your comfort zones. Wait til you see what happens when you’re both on the other side of THAT. Fire!

PARTNER LISTENING CHECK-IN’S

Sort of like date night, but for just for listening.

Scheduling listening-time is a powerful tool for creating better intimacy.

Here’s what that structured, active-listening date looks like:

Be sure to find a quiet, relaxing place you both enjoy.

One person (the sharer) has the floor.

The other person (the listener) focuses on purposeful, active listening.

When the sharer feels that they’ve been thoroughly heard, then open dialog occurs.

The listener should begin with what they *think* the sharer was saying and expressing. This gives the sharer an opportunity to: (1)verify they’ve effectively expressed their thoughts (2)feel they’ve been heard (3)correct and/or clarify for the listener, if necessary.

The conversation should continue until both parties are satisfied with the communication they’ve shared.

This particular activity gets easier with repetition. It gets easier to express ourselves when we see our partner receptive and engaged in active listening. And, it gets easier to actively listen with practice.

This. Is. Powerful.

LAUGH TOGETHER

Certain things universally bond humans together. Laughter is one of them.

Laughter releases endorphins, oxytocin and dopamine. Kinksters know the intimacy power of these. Separately, each of them hold ‘feel good’ impact in the brain. Laughter releases ALL of them together which creates a powerful experience within ourselves and the person laughing WITH us.

Who doesn’t want to escape into good feels and laughter with their partner(s)?

Laugh together, love together. It’s magical.

Please let me know YOUR small and easy tools for creating better connections with your partner(s). I’d love to know what’s worked in different dynamics and how you implemented it.

Be sure to connect with me on Twitter, IG, Fetlife & FaceBook

Warm Regards, Kye

How Dare You Call Me A Man Hater

(TW: Descriptions of emotional, physical, and sexual abuse.)

Sometimes, a creator presents a piece where their truth, their layered vulnerability, their authenticity, and their sheer empowerment knocks on your soul.

I live for moments like that.

They feed oxygen into my existence and keep me feeling alive.

This writing by -Pocket- on FetLife was one of those moments for me. I suspect it will resonate with many of you on a visceral level as well.

How dare you call me a man hater.

I was busy loving men when I was 17.

He lied and cheated.

Rather than be accountable to his own shitty behavior, he taught me that my jealous insecurities were a character flaw that made me unlovable.

He taught me that having trust for men is a responsibility I hold, and an entitlement he held, regardless of his actions.

He taught me that good girls are not teases, because that is actually abusing men.

He taught me that the evaluation of my body should be through his eyes.

I learned that I was unlovable but that he would teach me how to be loveable. I learned to hate my body. I never had an orgasm from PIV but I faked them for his ego, and learned to think that sex without orgasm was just normal.

And still, I never stopped trying to love men.

I was busy loving men when I was 21.

I was serving my country in a foreign land.

My brothers in arms raped me.

I could not bring myself to hold them to account. Because I was a good girl, and a dedicated Marine, and I knew that destroying a man’s career was a crime against humanity.

I felt too much empathy for their situation to harm them.

They taught me that suffering was my fault because I was broken. They were right about one thing: I was now actually completely broken.

I was raped again.

I wanted to sever my soul from my body I fucking hated my flesh so much.

And still, I never stopped trying to love men.

I was busy loving men when I was 25.

He was an angry drunk just like me.

We loved and hated each other with complete abandon, second only to our love for booze. Completely insane now, I was surrounded by other lunatics.

He taught me that suffering together was better than suffering alone as he beat me to a pulp and abandoned me unconscious in a pool of my own blood.

He taught me that when I finally gathered the courage to fight back that I was also an abuser.

He taught me that we are all fucking lost and that we are all fucking unlovable, and the world is a cold and meaningless place. Love was a cruel illusion in this hellish landscape where I lived.

And still, I never stopped trying to love men.

I was busy loving men when I was 30.

Finally, now sober, starting to clear the wreckage.

Therapy. Fearless moral inventories. Amends. I learned to take responsibility for myself. I learned to get good at that because I realized my life depended on it. I was doing the damn work. I learned that I was signing up for a lot of bullshit from men because I would not raise my bar.

I became committed to fixing my picker and to being a person who I could love enough to make room for higher quality men to love me.

He came as a knight in shining armor. He was stable and normal and just a regular good guy. A little boring but a stable, family man. Then he consumed our life with massive debt because he needed his toys.

He taught me that if I tried to right the ship I was in, that I was a joy kill and a nag. He taught me I was a control freak when I made a case to curb the spending. He taught me to distrust the part of me that was trying to protect myself and build a sense of security in my world, because that was more comfortable for him than to admit he was bringing it down around us.

And still, I never stopped trying to love men.

I was busy loving men when I was 35.

I became a feminist.

I devoted myself to learning the social constructs that make men and women so that I could learn the secret code that was eluding me in my lifelong pursuit of loving men.

I became fascinated with intentional power exchange.

Finally we can be honest about what the fuck this love shit is. I submitted.

I felt freedom. I did my part.

He taught me the luxurious experience of loving through actual consensual pain and service. He taught me how to have purpose in that, and I did so love it.

He also taught me that no amount of giving on my part will obligate him to giving back when I had needs that interfered with his wants.

I learned that his compulsions for self destruction were actually needs, and my desire not to enable them was unrealistic and harmful to him. I learned to hold my tongue as self destruction ate him alive in front of my eyes, and powerlessness devoured my dreams. I learned that it was controlling behavior to try to help a man because I loved him and could see his demons so fucking clearly, having already conquered the same ones myself.

I learned to hate myself for seeing things clearly and mirroring them back relentlessly until abandonment was assured.

And still, I never stopped trying to love men.

I was busy loving men when I was 40.

Beautiful submissive men who taught me to feel embodied power for the first time in my life.

He taught me how to embrace the feeling of being in control with abandon in so many passionate moments.

He also taught me how his cock was still the only thing that really mattered.

He taught me how my value was still derived as an object of his desire. He taught me to love feeling my power, right up until I tried to call him to account for actual harms he was doing to me or himself.

Then he taught me that basic accountability for his words and deeds was too much to ask, my expectations were too high, that his inability to own his shit was still my fault.

I learned to beat myself up for wanting too much.

And still, I never stopped trying to love men.

I was busy loving men when I was 45.

I tried vanilla again.

Love is love I told myself.

I loved with abandon and believed forever fairy tales, again.

I tolerated subtle abuse because I had learned to have so much empathy for all the ways men are broken by toxic masculinity. I forgave with abandon. He isn’t perfect, I said. I am not perfect, for fuck’s sake I have PTSD so bad I can’t even leave the house some days, so I have to have empathy for his imperfections.

After all, I can see how his rage stems from his own experiences with trauma. He will love me for not abandoning him in his pain and showing him the way out: accountability, honesty, facing fear. Be patient, I told myself. He will grow.

He taught me that his abject terror of inadequacy, taught to him by his abusive father, was my responsibility to navigate carefully. He taught me that I should own all of my shit and most of his because he was simply unable to carry the burden of his trauma and face his shortcomings.

I was strong and wise enough to see it wasn’t really me this time. I had all the language and tools I needed, so he couldn’t possibly hurt me beyond my superhuman abilities to heal myself from abuse.

The gaslighting, the negging, all to save himself from basic accountability – they slid off me like water on a duck’s back because I was so fucking immune with self knowledge.

He lied to himself, he lied to me, he blamed me when I called him out on his delusions. He made me the bad guy because calling him out on his actual shit was equivalent to berating him, equivalent to abusing him. He would scream as he threw tantrums, destroyed property, and as he put the safety of me and my pets at risk.

Trying to teach him things I have learned in my healing journey from trauma was still somehow me disrespecting him.

He could not grow, because learning was literally too painful to his ego for him to bear. He taught me to have shame for knowing things he didn’t. He taught me that if I cannot love him from the little box he made for me so that his fragile ego could feel safe, then I am not lovable.

When he finally left for good one day, on the premise that I was somehow inexcusably abusive for very quietly complaining about something he promised to do but didn’t, he taught me that no amount of empathy for the inability of a cowardly mother fucker to own is his fucking shit is healthy or productive for him or for me.

He taught me to regret being so fucking empathetic.

And still, I have not stopped trying to love men.

I am 50 now.

Back on Fetlife, I am engaged in the search for men to love. I do this in the face of countless men on this site foisting responsibility for their shortcomings onto women day in and day out in forums, in status updates, in inboxes.

I do this in the face of being lectured on “not all men.”

I do this in the face of disgusting displays of violent threats when he is told he is not a good fit, usually because he has demonstrated he has no internal sense of accountability for the way he reduces women through his dick centric/toxic masculinity infected worldview in various ways.

When I tell him he is not empowering women with his attitude, words, or actions, he teaches me that he is a terrified coward who is unwilling to do the work to be a better human, and he will defend his right to be unfuckable and angry at women about it until the day he is dead.

Daily he teaches me that he is dangerous because his slavery to his fragile ego keeps him on edge and ready to lash out at any perceived threat.

And still, I have not stopped trying to find men worth loving, and even now have found a few showing up in my world.

Even now, I am still loving men.

And you dare to call me a man hater?

Fuck off.

I am a fucking Love Warrior.

I’m very honored that -Pocket- agreed to, and trusted me, with her writing and granted me caretakership of her beautiful piece here on my blog. I find it difficult to articulate the depths of which her trust means to me. Please follow her on FetLife at -Pocket- for more incredible, vulnerable and profound pieces from this extraordinary human.