When others discover that I am a bisexual mom and wife who is married to a straight man who is open to me being intimate with women, they usually comment on how lucky I am. While I consider myself lucky to have married someone who not only accepts my sexuality but who supports it and lives with it, it doesn't mean that we don’t have our fair share of challenges.

There’s life beyond being lucky.

There’s life beyond unicorns, rainbows, and smiley faces because while this arrangement works sometimes, it doesn't work all of the time. Just what does that…

When I first began dating my husband 20 years ago, we kept in contact for a few months via email and calling cards. When we finally reunited at the airport before embarking on our own wanderlust together, it was pure bliss. We were so excited to see one another that we were trembling. Fast forward to 2021 when we are living in a pandemic with a house and three kids during another lockdown, and let’s just say it’s a very different picture.

The truth is that many of us forget what it feels like to be distant from our significant…

Sometimes
you may have pictured
a wild night
you got all the goods
in skin-tight —
the right lipstick
the boots to boot
and the good old booty
packing the loot

But sometimes
yes, sometimes
there’s nothing sexier
than letting him
lay his head
on your bare chest
to take a rest
as you hold him

Sometimes we forget
that men need that too —
to just be held
just to be held

Have you ever just
let your man
fall asleep on you,
even when you thought
the two of you
were gonna get it on?

So tired from…

Welcome to Poetry Matters

I am a Canadian, Jewish, Bisexual writer, and my identity colours my writing. I write poetic stanzas and paragraphs on sex-positivity, motherhood, mental health, travel, education, and storytelling. I earned Top Writer in Poetry, Feminism, LGBTQ, This Happened to Me, and Travel.

Follow Me: Medium, Instagram, or Twitter.

I know by now that you must know that I have a lot to say and I don’t hold back. Actually, I may as well take the time to tell you a bit about myself. Firstly I am a blunt and outspoken person. Maybe it’s because I’m petite and I make up…

It was 1988 and I was 10-years-old. Little did I know that this would be the year when I would fall from innocence. I do not recall the order of events but it was nothing short of a heart-shattering eruption that coincided with me becoming a woman. Yes, I got my period at the ripe age of 10. It’s no wonder that I was sexually explorative at a younger age than most of my friends. Not only did I become a woman early, but it was the same year my mother lost a baby and that her father died. …

Entering more disarray
has invited me to rise
as though this was how
I was meant to discover
being a mother:
in between the intricacies
of baby, toddler, and boy
dividing myself across
my loves so that somehow
there isn’t division
only multiplication
of all that I have to give…

…If I can just hold on
to that sweet note
when I feel overrun…

I take solace in the laughs and horseplay cascading through my home in the ripped blue jeans messy t-shirts and hockey sticks because the boys are my lifeline running through the door asking of me asking…

I am not okay —
I am forever changed
and it just happens
to be my favourite season
— spring —
birthdays for my boys and husband
and now you…
your suicide by my side,
looming like an albatross

That’s my life —
that’s my pain
and if mine is so great
then what must yours
have been like
Sorry, I guess I was selfish
for not staying in touch
but neither did you
and then you had to go
and make it all final

Now that Instagram post — “Awaiting Fireworks” — the one that compelled you to tell…