The biggest lie we’re told about love is that the start of it is actually The End. The trial and strife and struggle of your day-to-day smooths out into plain sailing when you’ve someone beside you. You’ve walked into the sunset, and you live there now. It’s warm and calm, like the end of a summer’s day. Both of you have made it and you’re safe. The other relationship myths I’ve been told pale in comparison to this one: that love is easy, once you’re in it.
I’m late to the party on this news, but a couple of weeks ago someone released some research about what straight women are looking for in a partner, and how they’re struggling to find someone because they’re intent on ‘marrying up’. There’s loads of bullshit to wade through here, and it’s quite fun sometimes to unpack it all, smearing it liberally all over the floor until you realise there’s nothing of value even hiding in the centre of what is a wholly ridiculous concept. Let’s look at ‘marrying up’ and ‘marrying down’.
This week’s guest blog is by the wonderful @EuclideanPoint – a fellow sex writer and fantastic person who I’ve had the pleasure of meeting at Eroticon a few times. She’s here to talk about something that isn’t often discussed: miscarriage. Specifically about returning to kink after the trauma of a miscarriage, so be aware that the post could be a tricky read for some. As I’ve got older, and known more people who have experienced miscarriage, one of the biggest surprises is how we’re still struggling to talk about this heartbreaking experience. When she sent me her post, Euclidean Point wanted to emphasise that she’s on Twitter if any of you have struggled with the same thing and would like someone to talk to.
People often think that dating a sex blogger consists of living every single day on a sexual rollercoaster: shagging first thing in the morning, enjoying a blow-job with your post-work Xbox session, and then filling your evenings with creative fucking as you test out brand new sex toys. Here’s what it’s actually like.
What’s on your shopping list of ‘ideal qualities in a partner’? Sexy? Funny? Clever? Absurdly wealthy or sultry and mysterious? I used to have a long list of things I thought I needed from someone. But the thing I care most about now would never have made my list when I was younger: kindness.