That Door? It’s There For You To Leave.

A venn diagram with two circles overlapping. And arrow pointing to the overlap says, "The sweet spot for friendship, love, romance, sexytimes, etc."

I believe in making it easy for people to step out of my life.

If they don’t want to be here with me, they shouldn’t be forced to.

By making it easy to leave, I like to think that it takes away the resentment that comes along with being stuck, and gives us the chance to really dig in and make things happen, with a worst case scenario being “Well, it’s easy to leave.”

And frankly, if someone does not want to be with me, I don’t want them there.

Or rather, I don’t want to force them there. I may want them, of course. Heck, I want a lot of things, but if I learn they don’t want me or like me as much as I like or want them, I don’t want them as hard anymore. Because part of a turn on for me is being liked and wanted. And that’s the sweet spot for me.

It’s about two people. Two sides. A door that goes both in and out.

And if you’re not ready to leave, but we’re not in the sweet spot? I’m cool with that, too. Let’s find another kind of relationship, where we are both on the same page, enjoying what we have together, in the sweet spot.

But if you’re wanting more than I do, and you won’t stop pushing me, or if you give me an ultimatum, or if you want me to chase you to validate your feelings, or whatever?

That’s what that door is there for. Use it.

Yes, Your Feelings Are Absolutely Valid. Period. Full Stop.

A cute hedgehog saying, "Your feelings are valid, important, and deserve to be taken seriously. You are worthy and you deserve to be happy and healthy."

Your feelings are valid.

So are theirs.

Everyone’s feelings are valid.

Their behavior and actions may be unreasonable, even reprehensible. Their feelings are not. Same with yours.

Your feelings, your sadness, your anger, your frustrations—these are all valid.

Let me say that again:

Your feelings, your sadness, your anger, your frustrations—these are all valid.

Using your feelings to bully or silence others. Using them to justify belittling others. Using them as a weapon against others…

Well, that’s just bullshit.

CC: Emm Roy

How do you trust?

How Do You Trust?

“My favorite definition of trust, which I read in a novel years ago: Trust is the residue of kept agreements.” —Jay Wiseman

This resonates with me, yet I find it lacking. I find trustworthy people inherently trust more. Whose agreements? Mine or theirs?

Because there are people I immediately do not trust. Call it intuition, snap judgment, whatever you want. And keeping an agreement will not really change that. I can’t remember a time I’ve ever changed my mind about trusting someone I who struck me as untrustworthy when I first met them. Continue reading “How do you trust?”

Do You GET Sex? Or Have Sex?

Sex Jackpot

What makes a dominant decidedly un-dominant?


It’s not just dominants that often stink of it. It’s any one, of any role, any sexual orientation, or any gender who thinks that sex or a relationship is something they get for doing or saying just the right things, in the right sequence.

It’s not.

It’s not about doing.

It’s about being.

The Slippery Slope Of Compromise…

How do you go from settling the disputes which happen in normal relationships, by finding the most beneficial solution to all, to losing yourself through being forced to change?

You start to compromise.

You get invested.

You get comfortable.

You lower your standards of interaction. You give in on things because it’s expedient, and not because they are the best solution. You start to care more about the seeming of the relationship than the being.

And that’s something I won’t do.

Continue reading “The Slippery Slope Of Compromise…”

I HATE Radishes, And No, I Won’t Have Sex With One.


Ummm. I meant EAT one. No sex with radishes, either (Not even a daikon, not even a sexy daikon, not even a daikon carved into a dildo), but that’s kind of not the point I was making. Anyway…

I don’t care if they are good for me.

I don’t care if it’s close-minded of me.

I don’t care if they are Brassicaceae, and I usually love Brassicaceae.

I hate radishes. They’re gross. I won’t eat them. I will allow a small smear of wasabi on my sushi, but too much, and it’s going back. Just, well, ewww.

And, radishes are a goitrogenic food. Those with or at risk of thyroid conditions should be careful with them. While I don’t currently have a thyroid condition (that I have been diagnosed with, at any case), my mother did, and that’s good enough for me to swear off radishes for good.

Also, as my roommate reminds me, every single person who ate a radish in 1827 is now dead. What more evidence do you need?

Maybe it’s an over-reaction, but it’s my over-reaction, and unless you are making dinner for me, it doesn’t affect you in any way, right?

“Well, I guess I’ve been making salads wrong for 57 years. I always include radishes.”

Well, it’s entirely possible you DO make salads wrong, but I’m not saying that. I’m simply saying I don’t eat radishes and I don’t like them. You’re welcome to include them in every salad you make.

Except Niçiose. A proper Niçoise just doesn’t include radishes. I will judge you.

“This sounds great. Really, it sounds like a utopia of non-radish living. It’s just a shame that it’s completely unrealistic to live life without ever biting into a radish.”

Well, maybe for you. I totes dig your point-of-view. It’s not mine, though.

I am pretty damn careful when it looks like I might be nearing a radish. They may look harmless, but so do bunnies, until you see this coming at you.

“I enjoyed your writing and agree with most of what you say. However, I believe that there are recipes that require radishes. Prime beef, for example, just can’t be eaten without horseradish. It is what makes us a civilized people; radishes are just sometimes necessary.”

Um, gosh. No. I don’t eat Prime Rib with horseradish (and I make a MEAN prime rib in my sous vide), and if a recipe has radish as a core ingredient, I simply pass it by.

Life is too short for the misery of radish-eating.

“This is a mess. We all have have to eat things we don’t want to sometimes. Negotiating, standing your ground, giving in, etc. …that’s a reality in every meal and it’s just not polite to refuse to eat something your host has prepared for you. ….if you think you won’t ever eat a radish, spend time without eating at all. …you’ll be grateful to be a radish eater.”

Maybe if I were starving, sure. I’m not suggesting that I would not eat a radish to save my life.

But that’s not how hard limits work, right? I mean hard limits are not justified by whether or not they would save our lives, but by our preferences.

And I’m not being rude. I’m stating my radish limits right here, in public. If someone chooses to make me dinner, and I pick out the radishes and our friendship is compromised, well, it wasn’t much of a friendship, was it?

In fact, now that I think of it, it’s probably my irrational dislike of radishes that kept me from that diplomatic position back in ’92…

“Gotta say, this is borderline ridiculous. Radishes are awesome, and everywhere. You just can’t avoid them.”

I’m doing a damn good job, and I’m a happier person for it.

“I’ll eat small slivers of radishes, but not large chunks. I think any person would, if they really cared at all about food and those who eat it.”

No small slivers, no huge chunks, no puree, no soups, no garnishes, no roasted, broiled or mashed radishes, not with cheese, just no.

“It surprises me to see you say this. Tell me.. When you enter into a dining experience, does your partners choice matter? I mean, if you force them to eat all your radishes, or to eat none of theirs, well, that’s non-consensual.”


Look, to be clear, I live in a world where radishes are an evil that should be eradicated, or at least totally avoided.

If you don’t, I’m cool with that. You don’t have to. You don’t even have to for me to like you or be friends with you.

Just understand I won’t eat a radish.

Or have sex with one.

I’m Not Patient. I’m Curious.


I talk to a lot of people. I answer every message I get. I meet newbies for lunch or tea or dinner or whatever, and I answer their questions.

I also take on some long conversations, trying to get a point across or correct an assumption. I share some of these here on Fet, and often I get the response:

“You are more patient than I am.”

In fact, I heard that quite a bit in my inbox and by friends in offline situations about my recent writing about compromise.

The problem is that those who say that are wrong. I’m not patient at all. I’m curious.

Continue reading “I’m Not Patient. I’m Curious.”

Fuck NO, I Will NOT Compromise!

It's raining and two people are each hold half of an umbrella, while neither stays dry.

It’s a tired old trope:

Good relationships require compromise.

I call bullshit. Not only that, but I also call hard limit.

Do you even KNOW what compromise is?

1. an agreement or a settlement of a dispute that is reached by each side making concessions.

Ok, that doesn’t sound too bad. But what IS a concession? It’s what happens when you concede. Know what that means?

1. Admit defeat in a contest.

2. surrender or yield (something that one possesses)

Really? You think that’s OK to ask of me? You think it’s OK to create a relationship where contesting each other is the norm, then force your partner to concede?

You know another definition for compromise?

2. the acceptance of standards that are lower than is desirable.

Ewww. No. Not just no.

FUCK NO! I will not:

  • Enter a relationship of any kind (friendship, lovers, marriage) where we contest against each other.
  • Choose to lower my standards to make a relationship work.
  • Give up the things I love and want in my life for you.
  • Create a relationship where I would ask you to do those things, either.

And I will thank you very much not to ask me to do it, because it’s like you’re saying, “I know your stated (or exhibited) thoughts, feelings and needs on this, but mine are way more important, so you should give up some of yours.”

And somehow, it’s even worse if you are willing to give up your own.

Really? You’ll lower your standards to be with me? Whelp. Don’t that make me feel special?

On the other hand…

Fuck Yeah, I will:

Come to you with my needs and desires, and I will expect you to come to me with yours, and we will help each other get all that we’ve ever wanted, to fulfill our fantasies and experience our dreams, to the best of our abilities (I can’t, at this point in my life put my knees behind my ears… we might need to bring in a stunt double for that that scene).

I’ll even go one or even several steps beyond that.

I’ll share myself and offer even more than I know you want, and show you other things you may have never dreamed of or looked for that add joy and laughter and love and more to your life when you are with me and when we are apart.

And I will fuck compromise. Fuck it right in it’s shitty little concessions.

Covert Contracts Are Ruining Your Relationship(s)!

A business man and business woman playing tug-of-war with a contract.

Do you feel resentment in your relationship(s)?

Do you feel burdened?

I’m not talking about kids and work and having to do laundry (just not the folding, please!!!). I’m talking about feeling burdened by the things you have to do to keep the relationship going.

Do you?

That’s a sure sign that you have entered into a covert contract with your other(s), and that’s never a good thing. Continue reading “Covert Contracts Are Ruining Your Relationship(s)!”

They Don’t Tell You Because You’re Not Safe

You're Not Safe

Someone I know and like very much was hurt today. Hurt because they just found out something I have known for a over 10 months.

About their partner of 27 years.

They wondered why I knew, and they didn’t, why I was told and they were not.

The answer is simple.

But it’s not easy. It’s never easy.

I’m safe.

They are not.

I am safe to tell things to. Almost anything. I do my best to be open-minded and help find a solution, or to just listen, rather than react or try to take action on another’s behalf.

You see, this person I care about is a crusader. They mean well. And they are amazing and wonderful.

When you need a crusader.

When you just want to be heard, though… A crusader is a bull in a china shop, breaking friendships and stomping on history, trying to protect the one they love, when it’s really not that big of a deal.

Or, maybe it is, but their partner is not yet ready to handle it like the big deal it is, so the bull would be stomping all over them, making them feel like they are wrong for wanting to handle it their own way.You’re Not Safe

There are many ways to not be safe, and many fall under the category of reactions:

  • react with anger
  • react with guilt
  • react with anguish
  • react with derision
  • react with “fixes”

You see where I’m going with this?

And there are many ways to be a safe space:

  • respond with love
  • respond with empathy (which not everyone has)
  • respond with an open mind
  • respond with acceptance
  • respond with offers to help, however you can

Of course, one writing can’t cover every way to be safe or every way to be unsafe in a person’s eyes. Every person is different. Every situation is different.

But I challenge you to ask yourself if you are safe. Would your loved ones tell you ANYTHING?

In what ways are you not safe? Or… maybe a better question is: In what topics are you not safe, and what can you do about it?