One Answer

Of late my listening skills have been called into question – for good reason. For many months a concept has been bandied about: my blogging as a greater issue in my marriage than sex with other men. This line of reasoning has baffled me. I mean how can one compare the significance of sitting alone at a keyboard in the blue monitor glow with, well you can imagine what can occur in the company of another, a fellow traveler in my sad world.

On Sunday I wrote of some changes – the basics relating to proper respect for Carrie and that is going well. I also wrote of less sex – sex with men - and less blogging. These were never set in stone rules – only the acceptance of therapy and the respect for Carrie are bedrock. The celibacy, while being honored, I have come to realize is not an issue. Now that I am in the basement, not sharing a bed, the issue is not sex; the issue is an element of discretion which speaks of respect. The thing is that the celibacy will not last, but it is not pressing in on me, I do not lie in bed at night and plan my next dalliance.

The same cannot be said for blogging. Since Sunday morning I have written many words, albeit in my head, but the words, the thoughts are there all the same. Some are comforting, some distressing, a few disheartening and in the last few days, more words of hope. And these words trail me with a greater persistence than the new puppy (who is cute but a mite energetic).

And as I think of all the words, write posts in my head, I finally start to understand. Carrie points out that sex gives me the adoration of one, blogging the adoration of many. I want to deny this: it is not about the adoration, the numbers. Yet I can tell you that I have reached 16,000 hits, last week I had consecutive days of 111 and 100 guests. But who’s counting.

So I realize that while the sex is significant, the blogging is the real immersion into a culture, a community and it does have real meaning to me. It is the writing, it is the introspection, but it is more: I can just keep a private journal. I do not. Tonight I choose not to worry about the why – the need for acceptance and approval, a form of exhibitionism. There will be a time for that, part of therapy, part of the non-TGT therapy I suspect.

Tonight is time for a bit of self acceptance, only bit I realize. But at least it is time to accept that being with men and maintaining my blog – my connection with all of you – are part of me. These need to be balanced with the rest of my life: respect for Carrie and myself must remain paramount. But there are enough battles to fight, mountains to climb with out creating false pretenses.