Outback Jack's Journey

Earlier last year (before my back pain came back) I had a triggering experience at the Brazilian Jujitsu place that I’ve been to for years with a coach called Rohan. I stopped going and paused my membership, and I received texts saying, “We’ve noticed that you haven’t been on the mats…” Eventually I met up with the head coach, Mitch, and he suggested that Rohan and I meet up and share our stories. I gave him permission to pass my contact details on to Rohan. Silence. For months. In June, I got excruciating back pain and realised I wouldn’t be wrestling for a while and didn’t bother following up, but I got better and then wondered why Rohan or Mitch hadn’t contacted me to meet up. I investigated some other BJJ places, but they didn’t seem to have the camaraderie of Dark Carnival.  On Monday, my usual staff meeting got cancelled and I decided I wanted to be assertive and find out why. I walked in and the head coach, Mitch, was there. He asked how I was and said he hadn’t seen...

As a 13 year old, I would want my father to have a conversation with me about sexual matters. As a prerequisitie, I would want a close authentic, real, open, and honest relationship with my Dad, which I didn't have. So this would be a fictious, alternate reality version of my Dad. Perhaps not just one "once and done" talk, but several over many months and years. And an open relationship that clearly fostered ongoing discussion and further questions. I would want my Dad to talk about sex in personal ways, not abstract terms. I would want him to talk about body changes as a teen: physical height, muscles, body hair, body odour, changes in penis, love, sex, marriage, girls, relationships. Emotions: anxiety over what didn't happen. Relief and joy over what could have been.

  Today I was just sitting at my computer working when I looked down and saw a drop of blood on my shirt and splash marks on my desk. I get a tissue and apply pressure to my nose, get a cold drink, and lay down to rest. I feel weak and vulnerable like I'm a 6 year old boy. I picture myself in the primary school playground playing with other boys, but I've bumped my head and my nose is bleeding. I hold my nose and walk towards the school buildings where I'll go to the sick bay. I've been there a lot with a bleeding nose. My nose would bleed if I got hot.  If it got bumped. I couldn't be a "rough and tumble boy". I couldn't do team sports. It would bleed if I exercised. So I couldn't do anything energetic. I couldn't become athletic.  This story links with "Mum, am I going to die?"

If you're going to shame me for arranging a massage with a stranger, then please stop reading now. It was a massage we'd arranged thru MassageExchange.com. My profile says "No sex" twice. Before I met him that time I had also texted, "No sex." We met for a massage exchange about two weeks ago and that was a good experience.  However this time, he got more sensual with me than before. I had three sore points on my body I asked him to massage, and he massage two of those areas. This time he was clearly not focussing on my body, but getting off on me, and trying to arouse me. I did get aroused, but not for long. He grabbed me at one point, but I said, "No touching. Thanks" and he let go. I ended up  straddling his chest  with my penis near his mouth, and he offered to blow me, but I said "No thanks."  He gave me a body glide or two, which got me briefly aroused. I did the same and he groaned in ecstasy.  He called out what he thought was ...

I have my Brothers Road Zoom coaching group just now. (I really would recommend it) They asked what I'd like to work on. I said I'd like to talk to the part of me that wants to meet men on Instagram and flirt with them to feel seen. The leader got me to connect with that part of me, which is usually late at night and when someone has ignored me or rejected me. He asked what is an earlier time I've felt like this, and it was growing up. My Dad had a desk where he'd study facing away from us at the far end of the lounge room, which we could see from the kitchen and family room. I must have looked at the back of his head thousands of times wanting connection, but if I did disturb him, I'd get shouted at and told not to disturb him. I presumed there was something wrong with me for wanting connection with him. The leader got me to imagine entering that scene as my adult self, approaching little me together with Jesus. We kneel down and hug him, and tell him that there...

Late last night I was watching Star Wars: Attack of the Clones again. My daughter was going to bed and said “Good night. Are you going to bed soon?”  I said “I’ll go to bed soon, but I’m hungry and I’ll eat some food”  She asked, “Have you seen a doctor about your hunger?”  I felt shame in the question because it implied my hunger is weird or unusual and I should see a doctor about it, and why haven’t I seen a doctor about that already?! Today she left early but when she got back I was able to have a conversation with her about this and say that was a triple barrelled question that implied that I’m stupid, and this is what her Mum has done - she implicitly shames me.  She admitted that she does subtly put me down in some of her questioning. She's effectively learned from her mother who's modelled that to her. We hugged and apologised.  It was really lovely.