On the eve of our wedding anniversary, I am thinking a lot about our marriage, our journey into polyamory and cuckolding, and just life in general. Wat can I say? Being on vacation I have some time to let my thoughts free range. Nearly universally across the board, friends always tell us how adorable we are, how perfect we are, and how we seemingly have a storybook marriage. And it’s easy to see why people get that image of us. We are both very attractive people, and more importantly very attracted to each other. We are both very happy and very in love with each other. We are often inseparable in our mutual social circles. And we define love. We truly do. Is that braggy? Good. It was kind of meant to be. But there have been times it has certainly not felt like a storybook marriage. There is stuff below the façade that those around us don’t see. For
the most part, they don’t see the emotional toll losing our baby, multiple pregnancy losses, and years of IVF had on us. Most do not know I was, or maybe even still am, a sex worker. And the guilt I carried around associated with that. Most don’t know that once my competitive swimming career ended, I became anorexic and still really struggle maintaining a healthy body weight and really still terribly struggle with body image and dysmorphia. They don’t see me constantly convincing myself that I am not good enough for him, or anyone. Everyone has their issues, both as individuals and in our relationships. I see it every single day. Patients will confide in me about issues that have nothing to do with their annual physical or why they came in to see me but seize upon the opportunity to just blurt it out to someone who will listen. I see it with friends, on ladies poker nights, when…