“Is there anything you want me to tell you?” I asked my spouse. We were in bed naked, having sex, at the beginning part.
“Is there anything you want me to tell You?” he asked, dodging the question.
I smiled. “Tell me I matter to you,” I said.
“You matter to me,” he said.
“Tell me I matter to you a thousand times,” I said.
“You matter to me a thousand times,” he said. I smiled bigger.
“Tell me you love me,” I said.
“I love you,” he said.
“Yes, you do. I can tell,” I said.
love
My spouse likes helping me have a good life. It’s actually fun for him. Not like he’s forcing himself to, to get a good result. Helping others is his joy, and he helps me in a kind, customized way that works for both of us.
Sex, logistics, emotions, listening to me, taking me where I want to go. Being a yay-sayer. Supporting me in what I need, as I change. Being kind and almost never angry. Generous with what’s his, and generous with my freedom. He’s patient, even as he struggles with his own disabilities and hard-to-meet needs. We have good ways of communicating and respect one another deeply. We know what to address head on, and what to leave alone.
A lot of people will signal that they want to do love, the whole enchilada, but only want a few parts of love. Dating is deception. They initially act like they do all of love, but they can only keep up that charade for a few months. Once you’re hooked, their true colors show.
I’m fortunate that my spouse was happy to learn how to do family with me in a way that works for both of us. We had to adjust to one another.
I’ve been thinking about that blissful, difficult first year, and what almost broke us up. But we were motivated to keep living together and loving one another, so we worked it out.
gender
My spouse being non-binary is a big deal because he enjoys nurturing. He helped at a childcare collective long ago. He’s served Food Not Bombs, helps people with health, raised his own kids and for a few years raised the kids of an ex. These years he does disabled interdependence with me every day. Kindness is his middle name.
Cis men I’ve known can nurture, but it doesn’t come easily and isn’t enjoyable. They might resent it later, or associate it with femininity, like I’m trying to emasculate them. They talk like nurturing is ok, but later I find out they actually feel like it’s beneath them or insulting to ask for.
I don’t want to try to extract love from anyone. I like asking for what I need, being clear, and having vulnerable conversations. But really I don’t want to take from someone anything they don’t want to give.
There’s a difference between asking and demanding. Freedom is important, both ways.
more
“Tell me my tits make you wanna come,” I said.
“Your tits make me wanna come,” he said, grabbing one of my naked breasts.
“Tell me I’m pretty for you,” I said.
“You’re so beautiful, for me,” he said.
“Tell you me you wanna be my boyfriend,” I said.
“I wanna be your boyfriend,” he said.
“Tell me you’ll always love me,” I said.
“I’ll always love you,” he said and kissed me.
future
Who knows what the future will bring. These ten years have been amazing. He’s getting older–I tell him we can do lots of different things in bed, if his dick becomes less reliable in its previous roles. I like lots of different kinds of sex; I don’t need only one kind of sex, for sure.
As long as we stay kind to one another, I think we’re good. Our family will last. I trust him to always love me, somehow.
