“Why are you the way that you are? I hate so much, the things you choose to be.” -Michael Scott
Any other fans of The Office will immediately recall this one of many showdowns between the Dunder Mifflin Scranton branch manager and his arch-rival in HR, Toby Flenderson. However, this quote is more than a joke to me. It resonates deep within me, from myself, to myself (not unlike that one time Dwight fought himself). I, as many other men like me, have often wondered why my particular desires exist. At times, that desire can quickly turn to loathing the things I got off to moments before. Thus we arrive at the age-old question: what the fuck?
One of the most interesting things about people is our stories. Everyone has a unique life history that helps make us who we are. The mystery of our personalities is wrapped up in a host of factors, including our biology, environment and experiences. Over the years, a few have stood out to me over and over again; certain variables in my life that, when tweaked just right, helped make the man I am today.
I was raised in an evangelical Christian home. We went to church every Sunday and week after week, from birth until my mid-twenties, I sat and listened to lessons from the Bible. Curiously, Christian culture takes poems, letters and stories written thousands of years ago and distills them down into neat little rules, mainly revolving around sex. For guys, don’t watch porn or jerk off; for girls, don’t tempt guys. My teens and almost all of my twenties was spent very repressed. I discovered masturbation on my own, watched a lot of porn and felt really bad about it. That was my sex education.
Another component of my sex and relationship education was complementarianism (patriarchy), the belief that man and woman each have unique, complementary roles ordained by God that they should not deviate from. Specifically, the husband was the leader of the family and the wife should submit to him (yes, a man wrote that). We believed this. Our wedding vows reflected it. We entered into a good Christian union as good Christian people, neither being encouraged to find our own way, sexually. It was already defined for us.
Ironically, I feel that this conservative upbringing is what primed me for much of my kinky sexuality, including cuckolding. Justin Lehmiller makes the case in a recent article for why conservative men are much more likely to fantasize about their wives fucking other men. In the piece, he shares Jack Morin’s erotic equation: Attraction + Obstacles = Excitement. In other words, taboo is sexy. The more you force a man into hyper-masculine patriarchy, the potentially hotter it is for his wife to subvert his “leadership” and let another man conquer her. The more I read, the clearer it became: I had no idea how much of a prime cuckold candidate I was.
My introduction to cucking was through porn. I don’t recommend that path at all (a post for another time) but this was 2013 and the wealth of quality resources we have today just weren’t there. Yes, cuckold porn is cheesy, over-the-top and maybe even harmful but at the time, all I knew was that the first time I saw a wife in the throes of passionate fucking with a hung, virile man while her husband sat and watched longingly in the corner, it struck my sexual psyche like a lightning bolt, igniting something deep within me. It was dirty and taboo but also hit closer to home for me than anything else I’d seen yet. I had no idea how hooked I was. Seven years later, that fire is burning hotter than ever.
“You Cheated On Me?”
“When I specifically asked you not to?”
The human brain is an amazing thing in that when trauma strikes, it adapts, sometimes in curious ways. I hesitate to use that word in light of something so trivial but when you’re a freshman in college and your first relationship ever goes sideways, it feels like the end of your world. To be fair, it was partially my fault for making it my world but you have to understand, I was the shy, nerdy kid growing up. The guy that girls didn’t talk to unless they needed help with homework. The guy that got “Quit jerkin’ it” written in his yearbook. The lanky, awkward teenager that obsessively compared himself to other guys and never felt good enough (okay, maybe that’s every teenager).
The point is, I wasn’t sure if or when I’d ever have someone special to call my own. Then, she came into my life. Did I have the self-confidence and maturity for a healthy relationship? No. Were we a good match? Fuck no. Was she giving me attention? Yes. A girl was giving me attention! So I rolled with it. We had some good times but most of our time together was spent fighting, and she always won. She wore the pants in that relationship and I was just excited to make someone happy. I thought I was too, until I found out what she was doing with the guy I wasn’t supposed to worry about.
Remember the homework thing? Yeah, I was doing her homework on her computer but couldn’t help but notice some not-hidden-at-all messages she had saved. Dirty messages, and not with me! Her friend was a fuck buddy and they had been very friendly for most of our relationship, while all we had ever done was kiss. Years before I ever knew the term, I was cucked. This was devastating to me, made worst by the fact that for the rest of the semester, I had to see them around campus, hugging, kissing and, well, I knew what else they were doing.
Over the years, tidbits of this silly college fling have manifested in little revelations that click into place as I try to put the puzzle together. For example, the time she told me how much she missed her ex-boyfriend’s big dick and all the amazing sex they had together (yes, that happened). Or the time she turned me down for sex because she said I wasn’t ready (she was right but it wasn’t any less humiliating). When I take these little experiences of my life and hold them up against my sexuality today, I can’t help but notice how similar they are.
A Happy Ending
I am grateful every day that my story ends well. Instead of marrying or knocking up (or both) the first girl that ever gave me attention, I ended up meeting a woman I would fight the whole world for; someone who loves me for who I am and is truly worthy of every drop of devotion I have for her. More than that, she has been patient and understanding with me throughout my sexual journey, with all the confusion, shame and weird, freaky ideas that come with it. We love each other and no matter what, that will always be enough for me.
So maybe my inclination towards being a cuckold is rooted in some negative and even hurtful times in my life. My fundamentalist roots made the notion of a married woman playing outside her marriage especially exciting. My brain may have eroticized “cheating” (extramarital sex – cuckolding isn’t cheating, folks) due to my first relationship experience. Does that mean my sexuality is bad, or invalid, or just a negative coping mechanism? No, I don’t think so. Regardless of how I got here, what I have now is something that brings me excitement, pleasure and, most importantly, encourages me to worship my wife even more. While I’m still working on fully accepting myself, I know who I am and the value I bring to a relationship. Getting excited about cuckolding doesn’t take away from that; it enhances it.
What’s your story? How did you get to where you are now? Think about it, process it, accept it, and then own it. You’re worth it.
Next up on the blog: Training For Someday