The Making of a Clown

Working in first lieutenant was easy but taunting and tedious work at best. Our work space was a broom closet off the second floor of our command. It was breezy as the bottom hall was frequented by maintenance personnel coming and going to the flight line. It was shoddily staffed with five gallon Turco buckets we used as seats and a small space heater for warmth amongst the commands cleaning supplies.

Every morning we mustered with our supervisor and awaited our cleaning orders from the command master chief. We routinely cleaned the heads, stripped and waxed the decks, painted anything that could be painted, stocked the geedunk, and anything else CMC could come up with. After our assignments we set out to accomplish our tasks throughout the rest of the day. We usually took a small break between each one to ensure we kept a busy appearance until we secured for the day.

About mid morning I made my way back to report to my supervisor and let him know my plan. He was not in the closet so I started rifiling through the scribbled notes to see if he left one for us as to his whereabouts as he usually did. I picked up a piece of paper and in CMCs handwriting were the words “Just keep those fucking clowns busy.” My hands started shaking and my body began to quickly fill with rage. We worked our butts off doing tedious little things for the command and him everyday. I knew then what I meant to my command and it actually caused me to have a major shift in attitude.

My supervisor happened to arrive as I was about to clear the closet door and knock on the CMCs. He said, “Korky, where are you going?” nervously as he could see the look in my eye. I thrust the paper toward him and as he read it he started shaking his head and smirking a bit. He sucessfully talked me out of barging in suggesting that my actions would only let him win. I attempted to calm myself and left the closet to go out to the smoke pit. 

It knew it was silly to be so offended by the word clown. I had been and would later be called much worse in my life, but that scene and the emotions it aroused that day stayed with me and I immediately lost all respect for CMC. It was hard to look him in the eye after that incident and when he shook my hand or thanked me for doing something I always believed it was insinsier or forced. I knew this man would never consider me a person.

Later as we were securing from a detachment and supplies were limited he stated, “I don’t care what you use, get those fucking pads and tampons out of that bin.” Disgusted I went to the head to wrapped my hands in plastic trash bags as we had no more gloves. Someone had failed to place a liner in the sanitary napkin disposal and me being the female left to secure, I did as he commanded. I had never felt so degraded in all my life.

I asked if I could secure to go cleanse myself in my barracks room and my supervisor obliged. I stood in the scalding arsenic ladden dessert the base in Fallon had and scrubbed myself from head to toe. Thankfully my roommate left that day during the fly off and I had the room alone for the evening. I headed off base with my friend to eat some Chinese food and we somehow found ourselves in a tattoo shop with men from another command.

After their tattoos were finished we headed back to base and waited on the supervisors to go to bed. Once they did I loaded all the beer bottles I had locked in my closet into my room mates comforter and we hauled it loudly down the stairs. We filled one trash can and moved down several rooms to the next to get rid of all of the bottles. I am not certain how many Sierra Nevadas I had on that detachment, but my drinking had increased tremendously between the first and second detachments. I was not yet twenty one and kept them locked away because CMC could not unlock it during inspection unless I was present.

We laughed off the enormous comforter stuffed with bottles along with the shipmates that passed during our excursion but I failed to see the red flags and attempted to deny my failing mental health. My superiors and peers were begining to break me down but I did what I could to keep my head afloat. My self esteem was declining rapidly as well as my sense of worth. I had no idea this was only the beginning of the negative experiences I would face in my life. What happens in Fallon, stays in Fallon may have been the catch phrase for those detchaments, but for me what happened in Fallon never left my body when I was raped, the degrading acts from my superiors only made my sense of self and symptoms worse in the long run.


Memories of the Desert

Although I had been raped twice in Fallon, I did have realitively good times in the dessert; or as good as they could be. My first detachment I spent most of my time working with my shop until I was caught in a shipmates room attempting to avoid the sex acts taking place in my own. I was only twenty and mostly stuck around to those I knew decently but I left base every chance I got. 

I went shopping in Reno, ate the casino buffets, went skinny dipping in Lake Tahoe and then rode around the entire lake with our van door open to dry our clothes before going back to base, and watched a friend fly a kite over the shores while we picked fresh sage to take back to our homes. I marveled at the scenery and majestic landscape the dessert provided. One day, as was customary for many sailors to do, we decided we wanted to visit the local brothel.

I had been sent on a mission by a roomate to get a menu, and I had every intention of fullfilling it. I was the designated driver since I was underage, and the only female. We drove to the outskirts of town and finally arrived at the front of a trailer park. Right off the side of the road stood the famous Bunny Ranch. I immediately parked the van in front of the entrance and we hastily made our way inside to get my elusive menu.

I made it about two feet into the door when a very obese woman in a blue bra with the most enormous breasts I had ever seen called out to us. I quickly realized she was calling out to me, asking me if I had a permit to be inside a brothel. Baffled and embarrassed I stammered I didn’t as my face became a bright cherry red inferno. I shrugged my shoulders and said I would be making sand castles out by the van until my shipmates were finished. 

Defeated, I left the brothel, but was quickly greeted by my shipmates who also wanted to return to town. We decided to stop at our favorite local stop, the birdfarm, and finished off our night badly singing to the likes of Stevie Ray Vaughn and figuring out how a silver dollar would go in the juke box. I attempted to play darts but struck a local man in the head and quickly surrendered in exchange for remaining in the bar until close.

We cooked on the grills outside the barracks and played spades and other games to pass the time. The base had a go cart track and small cafe and bar to spend time in. I believe there was a bowling alley as well. The second detachment we finally convinced master chief to give us the van one day to go for an adventure. We all wanted to go somewhere different so we went to Tahoe for the obvious, Sacramento to see the capital, San Francisco to eat in China Town and cross the Golden Gate Bridge, and Reno for late night casino dinner all in our one day off. 

While people were wild and crazy and bad things did happen, it was a time of bonding for me and many of my shipmates. We learned to have loyalty and respect for one another that continued to grow the more time we spent on the ship after we left the dessert. We bonded over dessert buggers, pigs in space, the insane things you only do if you are in the military, the close quarters of sweaty kitty litter covered techs farting bad grilled food, and the never ending inside jokes that would follow us for years. As our final jets took off and the remaining Skelton crew members boarded our flight to head back to Virginia I watched the setting sun go down on both a place I learned from tremendously​ but also as a place I knew I never wanted to return to.

I Wish my Husband Believed That he Was my Lifesaver

My husband often gets his feelings hurt because I am constantly doing things for others and pushing things I want to do for him off to the wayside. I know it’s wrong and I don’t mean to even do it conciously, but it happens. The day I left for the Navy, June 20, 2001 I knew I was leaving behind a person that cared for me more so than any non related person had ever cared for me. After I arrived at boot camp he religiously wrote me weekly. He was the only one that answered my phone calls and continued to do so after I arrived in Pensacola. 

We spent hours talking while my friends would go out to clubs to meet girls and I laid next to the hotel phone crookedly in the lumpy bed just to hear his voice and long to be in the confines of his little two bedroom apartment back in Arkansas talking the nights away as we always had. I missed his companionship so much that I incurred a five hundred dollar phone bill on my parents calling card in fact, and an infuriated mother.

We made our relationship official, while I was on leave from A-school around Christmas or so of 2001. The week we spent together was so intense, I had never felt love like he had to give. Even after our tumultuous three weeks in Virginia, his immediate move to Massachusetts, the arrival and departure of our child, he never stopped loving me. He was suicidal when I broke up with him the first time, when I was preparing to leave for deployment, but I honestly thought I was doing the best for us both at the time.

He wrote me when I could not receive or make phone calls, when I was restricted from writing letters or emails, still claiming his love for me, a half a world around. When I returned from cruise we had a falling out after a botched visit I attempted to make in Massachusetts. I hurt him deeply, and at that point he decided he was ready to move on with his love life. He let me know in early  2004 that he had met another woman and was smitten by her. I knew at the time I could do little about it, and I was just glad he wasn’t suicidal anymore and seeming to move along with his life. We didn’t speak again for a little over a year. Apparently one night after I had gotten out of the Navy and was at the lowest point in my life, I called him frantic and desperate for a place to go. He told me he had roommates and still was with his girlfriend.

I was so inebriated that evening I did not remember making the phone call. It was the last time we spoke for close to a year or more. After I left Virginia and settled back into Arkansas, my cousin asked me if I had a Myspace account. I replied that my friend had made me one before leaving Virginia but I had never used it. She accessed my old account and I found a message from Andy. He was requesting that I let him know that I was alright after my erratic late night call the previous year. We began communicating again through social media and Thanksgiving of 2006 he called me crying and stating that his girlfriend had broken up with him; he was devestated.

We began speaking more regularly and by March, 2007 I was on a plane to Massachusetts to visit. The moment I saw him in the airport I felt the same as I had the first time I saw him. We hugged and it felt as though no time had passed since we had last seen one another in 2003. I spent the week with him and we had fun visiting the Boston area. I had a blast getting reacquainted with my lost love and when it came time for my plane to depart I felt as if my heart were going to emplode. I felt so lost and alone without his companionship​. We continued talking and I was able to return for a two week visit in the summer.

This trip solidified my decision to move to Massachusetts. I knew to get Andy back I would have to prove my love to him this time around. We began to make preparations for my arrival; slated for June, 2008. It seemed like the longest year of my life, but we remained in constant contact and committed to one another. The day finally came for me to leave Arkansas and start over with Andy. It felt strange leaving, but I was excited for my new adventure. Shortly after my arrival, I found out I was pregnant with our son. 

The moment Andy found out he was committed to being the best father he could be. I instantly felt secure in my new life and relationship and I had been given the greatest gift of all, a life to love. I vowed from the moment I found out I was going to be a mother that I would not do anything to separate myself from my son. Of course I later made stupid choices, but the gift of my son and later my daughter were the missing pieces I needed to remember that I had a purpose in being born on this Earth.

The security and love Andy has shown me the last seventeen years I’ve known him and the gifts of unconditional love I get from all three of them fill every part of me that would ever consider taking my life. It doesn’t get rid of my feelings of worthlessness or that I’m a burden, but because of them I would never purposefully do anything to remove myself from them as they are my life. My sole goal is to make my family the happiest and healthiest we can be physically and mentally with what we have. I know our lives are not perfect, nor do we pretend that they are, but we strive to make it as perfect for us and our kids as possible. 

For the many negative times and petty fights we have and the numerous mistakes, accidents, and bumps in the road, we still continue to move forward, as a family. I’ll never be able to thank my husband enough for throwing me that lifesaver when I needed it most. I hope he knows how much I love, value, care, and cherish every gift he has ever given me, but I’ll never be able to thank him enough for giving me back my life. If it weren’t for his constant support and encouragement to better myself, I would have been gone a long time ago and the fact that I’m still here is priceless.

My Poly Response So Far 

Mom and dad divorced when I was five and thus began the upheaval of my security. We moved from a home I had known since birth to an old home across town. My insomnia started then, in the middle of kindergarten. I had always been extremely close to my father and I was confused as to why my parents wanted to live apart from one another. At the time I really do not think we were told why our parents divorced, just that it wasn’t our fault.

At some point we moved from the big house into my grandmas, Beebo, whom I was also exceptionally close to. I still didn’t sleep well but I did sleep easier being in her home. My mom had taken a job in Crossett and comutted each day until my kindergarten year was finished. That summer we left McGehee for good and started over on Pecan Street in Crossett, a little over an hour away.

I spent the summer making neighborhood friends and when it came time for the school year to start, was introduced to a girl that became one of my best friends. I was painfully shy and timid; my dad says I lost all of my self confidence after the divorce but I eventually grew out of always wanting to fit in and instead be my own person the older I got. My parents had arguments over custody often and my little brother began acting out for my mom and Beebo after the divorce. Shortly after we arrived in Crossett my mom began dating a man that would become my stepfather at the age of seven. He had no kids but always wanted them, so we also become very close throughout the years.

After my mom remarried, my parents seemed to fight more intensely over custody. I hated feeling like I was in the middle all of the time and I never understood why they could not get along. One evening I remember being sent to my room and the police showing up to talk to my parents. I had never been so scared in all of my life and I was afraid they would take my daddy away. Eventually things slowed down and feelings cooled and we returned to our normal custody arrangements; every other weekend, six weeks in the summer and alternating holidays.

I missed many parties and sleep overs, holidays celebrated on different days with different families, etc.because of our arrangements, but it was a part of my life. As I grew older my mother began to become unhappy in her relationship with my step father because of his drinking and lack of communication skills. She contemplated leaving him, but we convinced her not to as we loved him and did not want to deal with another divorce. Around that time my brother and I had been cleaning the house and found journals from our parents divorce.

The secrets we learned we kept to ourselves and went along with the story we had always been told, but never seemed like a good enough reason to me to end in divorce. I became leary of relationships because my Dad eventually remarried and drug abusing narcissist and divorced her when he found out about her infidelity​. My mother has had her ups and downs and move in and move outs and divorce threats numerous times since being married to my step father and at one point was very close to starting a new life. I eventually learned the secrets and reasons my parents had divorced from the mouths of other relatives, and it honestly disillusioned me on monogamy and thus began my research on polyamory. Why remain miserable when a small change can make your relationship loving and more functional?

The unhealthy, but loving relationships I whitnessed in my youth lead me to become terrified of marriage and divorce, and I never wanted to put any children of mine through it unless it is unavoidable due to abuse. It was one reason my husband and I waited to get married after a six year monagonous relationship. We remained manogonus for four years after our marriage. My previous relationships had been traumatic or riddled with infidelity. I needed someone to love me and to show me that they were not going to go away. 

We reached a point in our relationship that I now am comfortable with experimenting and secure that my husband will not leave me for another woman. If anything, this experience has taught me that by spending time with other people I actually miss my husband and value him for the attributes that he has to offer more so than I did when we were just dating. I appreciate the way he cares for and treats me instead of taking it for granted. In the time since we have opened our relationship we have grown closer than we have ever been before.

This relationship is based on trust, open and honest communication, and working through the negative and positive emotions on a daily basis. We have no intentional secrets between the two of us and we both are happier in our relationship now than we have ever been before. We both love each other deeply and have for seventeen years, this makes us better for our children, and our children see that their parents truly do only want the best for our family. 

There are no wild parties, their home has remained the same with the hope of  positive changes outweighing the negatives, and both of our children know we love them and each other with all of our hearts. We will always strive to be the best parents we can be for them and we will continue to work together as a team to raise them in the healthiest manner possible, and with their intrests at heart. Our only goal at this point in our relationship is to continue to grow together rather than apart, and so far we have been able to achieve that. I am very happy with myself and my life, even with the negatives, for the first time in fifteen years or more. I hope that more people can resolve to be open and honest in their communication with one another in an effort to remain united rather than drift apart.

Halloween Nights; Morning Nightmares

Our command returned to Fallon sometime in mid September or early October. After my stint in my squadron mates room the first detachment, I was sent to complete my temporary assigned duty and placed in first lieutenant, a glorified name for a janitor. The only people in first lieutenant were those that were considered shit bags by the command or those who had no choice. I was partially both, but  respected more than the men that were sent there because of their mental health and other issues.

People were so mean to these men, even lower ranked airman we were working alongside. One day I sent a male out to the Roach Coach to get us breakfast pigs since I had social anxiety and he was always broke. As we were eating he was telling me his grand plan to one day return to our command hanger bay and blow the entire thing up. I had never heard anyone speak like this and the shock read plainly across my face. He gently placed his hand on my arm and looked me straight in the eyes and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you’re not anywhere around when I do.” 

I could feel the pain ooze from his words and the agony his eyes carried, how could people be so cruel to make another human to feel so worthless. He remains in my thoughts to this day as I had no clue then I too would understand the pain he felt. He stayed behind when we went back to Fallon and was processed out by the time we returned. Sometime in mid September we said our goodbyes, and I never saw him again. 

When we returned to Fallon as the first lieutenant component of the command we were assigned hanger bay cleaning and out door grilling assignments twelve to fourteen hours a day. I mostly stayed to myself and occasionally left base with trusted individuals on rare occasions. I wore my SpongeBob costume and passed out candy for Halloween to my shipmates and cooked on the grill and spent most of my time with friends that were off. As the detachment was winding down the last week of October and into November and more brass and supervisors left, I was more inclined to venture out.

One night a FLIR tech promised my friend he would let me in a bar he was working the door at that night. I agreed to come along and used another females ID to show at the door. This was the first time I had ever used a fake ID and I was terrified of getting in trouble again. We made it to the bar and began taking shots and drinks with our remaining crew members. A new officer had just checked into our command and people wanted me to dance with him, but I declined fearing fraternization. I continued to drink, but hid in the shadows until closing time.
We prepared to leave for the evening and loaded up in a white duty van. I know this because the man driving was a third class Petty Officer with utilities on. We were supposed to head back to base, but the occupants talked the watch driver into pulling over at an all night bar, Headquarters. I decided I had enough to drink for the evening and would remain in the van. Another squadron mate also remained behind in the front passenger seat.

I began to feel my eyes get heavy as I was overly intoxicated and I laid in the floor on the van between the two back bench seats to try to feel better. The cool floor of the van and the heat from the vents lulled me to sleep. The next thing I remember is that I woke up feeling nauseated. I tried to sit up but I realized then that my squadron mate from the front seat had penetrated me and was on top of me. I’m not sure what happened next but I got sick. I threw up all over him and the van. 

I got out of the van and was still vomiting when the other occupants rushed out to check on me. Someone asked me if he did anything to me but I was so confused; and I knew I would be in serious trouble this time. The watch started freaking out about the entire situation and I just responded, “No.” I sheepishly tried to clean myself off and returned to the van and headed back to base.

That night was not spoken of again for many years. I denied it for a long time. Was I sure he was inside me, why was his tounge in my mouth, my pants were down, it must have been my fault because I thought he was cute before that night, he must have somehow picked up on it and tried to see where it would go. I went into shutdown basically and became numb to many parts of my life. We left Fallon and returned to Virginia for two short weeks before leaving out on the ship and starting the begining of the biggest atrocity I have ever participated in; Operation​ Iraqi Freedom. I had been raped before, in Fallon on the first detachment, but I had denied that one as well, up until 2016 in fact when asked to tell the truth, fourteen years after the incident by a whitness from that night

Denial was the easiest way to deal with it. I knew from Stephanie that I would be separated or relocated with a huge target in my record and no chance at promotion. I had given up my scholarship, I wanted my MGIB. I shoved it all inside and continued to act as normally as possible, to just blend in, unrecognized until I got out. That morning, and the mornings before when my squadron mates decided that my sleeping body meant consent was granted changed my view on my entire life. My self esteem and worth were shattered, I believed I deserved the bad things to happen to me for multiple reasons and stories yet to come, and I became more depressed than I had ever been in my life.


The end of August, 2002 my command began to prepare for our upcoming deployment. We were starting a series of detachments to train for our upcoming mission and would be spending a couple of six week stints in Fallon, NV. I had no idea what to expect aside from the wild stories I was told by my squadron mates. The basic rule of Fallon, from my understanding, was that what happens in Fallon, stays in Fallon. I had began staying off base after Andy left with two males from another command on a different work up cycle and keeping their apartment for them while they were away. Each night we would talk about the wild shenanigans that took place at the barracks and the obvious places to visit.

I was not particularly looking forward to going but I had no choice in the matter. As we prepared for the detachment things around the command began to get hectic and we started working longer hours to prepare. We packed up the equipment we would need in the dessert and loaded it into the back of an eighteen wheeler; tools, test equipment, pubs, cranials, computers, it all came with us. We finally loaded a large commercial size airplane and set off for Fallon. We made a small fuel stop in Kansas and finally landed at the air base several hours later.

I hadn’t spoken to Andy much since breaking up with him and my arrival to Fallon was no different, I had no phone. We waited to get our luggage and check into the barracks with our assigned roomate; I was assigned with a woman I barely knew, great. We made our way to our room and began unpacking our seabags in our home for the next six weeks and made small talk. I quickly changed clothes and sat out to find my friends, and to find someone to get me alcohol.

I walked around base until I found a squadron mate I knew that would get me set up, as I was still only 20. We made our purchases and went back to his room. Females could be in males rooms as long as the door was open, so we sat up a makeshift table by the entry and started playing spades. This was the usual routine most evenings in the Navy when there was nothing better to do. At the close of the evening I made my way back to my room to get sleep before reporting to work the next day.

I was shocked to find a male from another command in bed with my roommate upon my entry of the room. I made my way to the bathroom we shared with two other females to hide out. I was sitting on the toilet reading a book when I noticed a very large pair of what I called whitey tighties hanging from the towel rod. I was fairly disgusted by this and finally got the nerve to go back into my room and hit my rack. It disturbed me that I was sleeping in a room with a male I did not know, but the sun rose and we all made our way to our prospective work assignments the next day.

I attempted to stay out of my room as much as possible during the rest of that deployment. One night I was watching a movie in a friend’s room and happened to fall asleep. Instead of waking me when the movie was over, they let me remain on the floor. I woke up at about three or so in the morning and panicked; I had to get back to my room! I asked my friend to look out to see if a watch Rover was nearby so I could make my escape. He told me all was clear, but I walked right into the rover upon exiting the room.

He grabbed my arm and asked me where I was going. I stammered and replied that I was returning to my room. He asked me what command I was in and my name, but he let me go. I thought I was in the clear but when I arrived at work that afternoon, my lead petty officer and chiefs were waiting to speak with me. I had made them look bad, and I was messing up my image. They transferred me to a different shift from my friend and I was warned not to let anything else happen or they would send me to Captains Mast. 

I was humiliated and mortified, I did not even like my friend in a sexual way, and I had fallen asleep on the floor attempting to stay out of the sex fest that was taking place in my room. I laid low the rest of the detachment and tried my best to keep myself out of trouble. I traveled with friends to Lake Tahoe and Reno, but mostly just sat outside of my friends rooms for the rest of the detachment.

We left Fallon after six weeks and returned to Virginia for about three weeks before we would return to the dessert. I could not wait to get out of there and back to the safety of my friends apartment. They were gone on the ship when I arrived and had a week or so to myself before they returned. We had change of command while we were back and that night I bought a SpongeBob costume. I had no clue then how important that silly costume would become later in my life, but it sadly reminds me of a girl that I will never be again. 

The girl that bought that costume did not care what others thought of her and acted as silly or goofy as she pleased. She was a dreamer and a thinker, full of passion and love to give and share with anyone willing to accept it. She loved laughing and joking and social situations. That girl was naieve, but fearless and that purchase was the last glimmer of that girl that my memory holds.

I Went Out While My Husband Kept the Kids

I normally do not venture to far from my husband during his off time. We enjoy being around one another and value the alone time we do get although our intrests vary greatly. Last Friday was no different, I wanted to listen to a friend play a show at a local venue, we had no babysitter, and Andy wanted to play video games. I found our new friend was going to the event and Andy decided he would be all right if I went. I hastily prepared for my last minute plans and was surprised when Andy rushed me out of the door.

The event was BYOB so I turned into a liquor store to grab a six pack of beer. As I did I saw a woman riding her bike in my headlights. I slowed to almost a complete stop when she lost her balance and fell over. I pulled into a safe spot and made sure she was okay before proceeding to make my purchase. A few minutes later I arrived at my destination and my friend came out to great me. I entered the venue and almost immediately became paralyzed by social anxiety. I felt so weird to be out without Andy or another family member, but it was also fun.

My friend helped himself to a seven layer dip and I quietly stood by the kitchen cabinets and took in the scene. A man approached me and introduced himself and when I replied with my name, he responded that his brother had the same name as me. We chatted for a bit and then we made our way to the back balcony so the group could smoke. I gazed at the Fayetteville skyline while the others laughed and chatted and checked my phone. Andy had messaged me, just to check in. I smiled and began to relax and we checked in with each other throughout the night.

The man that introduced himself to me apparently took a liking towards me and I spent most of the evening deflecting his advances, I was there to see my friend not hook up with a random man. We laughed as the man continued to try to touch my breasts, he was being polite and asking but I was not going for it. As the night wound down, we helped clean up the venue and proceeded to get ready to leave. I checked my phone and Andy had been texting and was not happy with my lack of contact over the last hour or so.

We stayed out later than I expected and Andy began to get annoyed, as is understandable. When we arrived at the house, Andy was asleep on the couch. I tried to wake him so we could visit with our friend for a moment, but he did not wake up. The tension was fairly thick so I sat between my husband and our friend on the couch. Andy finally got up and went to bed upset, and I stayed to visit with our friend until he fell asleep.

I invited him to the bedroom, but he declined. I left and went to my bed with my husband, however we went to sleep with much tension between the two of us. The next morning was a bit better, but Andy was still visably upset. I took our friend back to his vehicle and we said our good-byes. I thoroughly enjoyed my night out, and I also learned valuable experiences for my relationship. Andy and I discussed his feelings about the previous night’s events and I listened and understood his concerns. 

While I never imagined I would go to an event with another man I was attracted to while being a married woman, I have to say it was really a great time. My husband would have been miserable at the venue and the music was not anything he would ever listen to. I got to see one friend perform, which I thoroughly enjoy, and get to know our new friend better at the same time. We did not kiss, we did not have sex, we held hands and we talked. It felt really wonderful to be able to connect with someone I like to be around and knowing that even annoyed, my husband would be waiting for me without a worry of him leaving me.

I am proud we have a relationship in which I can go do the things I want with the people I enjoy being around and not have to feel guilty about it. Of course I missed my husband on my night out, but I also know how uncomfortable and miserable the evening would have been for all of us had we insisted he be present as well. Of course jealousy pops its head in, my heart jumped when I saw him entering data on a dating sight, but it was short lived after a brief conversation. 

My main concern was that he had downloaded it without telling me first and I wanted to know if he was going to let me in on the knowledge. He assured me he was and my feelings subsided. I want my husband to meet someone that he can enjoy spending time with doing his intrests and in turn allow me to do the same with mine. I enjoy the value our new friend adds to our relationship currently, with the negative and positive emotions that have arisen. 

I know I’ll be jealous when my husband does meet another pretty lady to spend time with, but I love him enough to know that he would pick someone that added value to our relationship as well. While I never expected to be in this type of relationship, I am thrilled at where we are at this far and I’m beyond excited to see where things go from here. I have learned through this experience that as we continue to grow and change, our relationships must grow and change to fit. Growth is uncomfortable, but it is necessary for relationship survival, and that is one lesson I can say I am proud to have learned through this experience.