This is the short (and long) explanation of why I never had children.
I got married at a very young age – 18 years old.
One of my best friends, Jim Hughes, had had a kid, which had inspired me and my then wife – Donna Suppes (aka Donna Damron aka Donna something_new) – to have children.
For a year, we tried, and tried, and tried.
That means lots of sex in layman’s terms.
It didn’t suck. I actually loved the act itself, especially with her.
But after a year of trying, there was nothing happening.
Now unbeknownst to Donna, I was questioning my own manhood, so I took a trip to the Doctor – who gave me some bad news.
I had no sperm count. Not just low sperm count. No.
Meaning – I was totally shooting blanks.
Now I was heartbroken about this.
But I couldn’t tell Donna the truth, I at the time knew she wanted to have children as bad as I did. If not, more.
And seeing as my mom had gone for years without thinking she could get pregnant and magically she did.
I thought, you know, let’s just work in denial, and pretend I never heard the news I did.
I knew otherwise. Blanks are blanks. There was no way she was going to get pregnant.
It wasn’t long after this, she magically got pregnant.
I had been suspecting she was having an affair with a former friend of mine.
This made it crystal clear.
But at hearing she was pregnant, I was admittedly furious. I accused her, not telling her HOW I knew she cheated, and finally she broke down and admitted to the affair.
I was livid, heartbroken even. It was indeed with my former friend named Leonard Jacinski.
Who incidentally I’ve not seen since or heard from since.
Sometimes it feels like he fell of the face of the planet..
So I told her – “I’m not ready for a child, especially not someone else’s, so ultimately, it’s your body and your choice. If you want to stay with me, I am not raising his child. If you want to raise that child, then go be with him.”
She accused me of being a selfish prick, and actually had the audacity to point the finger at my being adopted as a reason I should keep his child.
For me, that was idiocy, and infuriated me more.
If she wanted to be with him and carry his child – then go.
She chose to stay with me, and together we paid for the abortion.
Yes, I paid for another man’s abortion.
Our sex life diminished horribly after that, which is about when I discovered the fine art of not chaffing with regular doses of EGA internet porn.
EGA stands for ‘Enhanced Graphics Adapter’, where the quality wasn’t even close to real life, but still substantially better than the previous monochrome (black and white basically, or green and black), then CGA (4 colors and a palette of 16). EGA if I remember correctly was 16 concurrent colors could be used on the screen at the same time.
Here’s an example rated ‘G’ graphical image of the amazing quality of the creativity involved with these early images – this was from one of my favorite games of the era – Ultima..
With this blow to our marriage, I told her I wasn’t ready for marriage, so she started on birth control.
Our sex life was suffering, I don’t doubt in small part due to my blossoming porn addiction. but most of all, I just didn’t trust her and I’d lost substantial interest in her due to that trust loss
Now shifting back in time – a little side story here –
When I was in about fifth grade, me and a few friends ‘recovered’ a Playboy and Penthouse – nude females – collection that someone had discarded in a big box set next to their trash can.
Why it was thrown away – we could only imagine – was it because the old lady found out about the husband’s collection? Had he grown tired of it? Was it a lesbian’s collection? We’ll never know.
But after me and some friends spending several weekends in our ‘secret hideout’ oggling the ladies, I became curious about the man – Hugh Hefner.
How could I get his job – I mentally wondered?
So I picked up his autobiography and read it cover to cover.
I’d learned the man had gone through a divorce, had a turning point in his life, and just up and decided to start photographing nude women, who jumped at the opportunity.
He appealed to their ego. This ‘brush with fame’ brought them increased visibility and a little bit of infamy.
And because he was the conduit to this infamy, and decision maker – they all wanted to be with him.
So I wrote a book report on this amazing man and his decision to ‘stick by his ideas’ despite the strong opposition.
And I told how I was inspired by this amazing man – not because he rebelled against the establishment. Not just because he got sex whenever he wanted it from the most attractive women on the planet.
I wrote a heartfelt story on how inspired I was by a man who was broken – defeated – but who believed in himself and arguably turned himself around to make something incredible and inspiring of his life.
It’s arguable he singlehandedly ushered in the still unfolding sexual revolution, which has resulted in a consumer revolution – too many product lines to list based on skimpier clothing, body care products with more skin being shown, the whole multi-billion dollar porn industry.
All because one man said “I am here to have fun.”
Now going back to my story. I’d still been ‘programmed’ to believe in the institution of marriage and the status quo family.
But I was breaking down this vision.
So in rebellion, I ordered a subscription to Playboy.
But I still hid it from Donna.
One night I fell asleep after masturbating, the magazine still out on the table.
She woke up, andI saw the real drama queen unfold.
“How could you look at other women?”
Looking back, the shame I felt was absolutely ridiculous
She went completely hysterical on me, claiming I didn’t care about her and the marriage.
Our sex life continued a slippery slope towards oblivion.
We became heated a couple times after that.
But not to once to the point of ejaculation.
Then one day, she came to me and said
“Guess what, I’m pregnant again!”
This time I’d had enough.
She acted like I was the father.
I confronted her on having an affair.
This time, I told her I was shooting blanks, and she was full of shit.
It was about then I started to opening my eyes and reconsider the utility function of sexuality and instead start to consider it as a act of pleasure and self expression.
After all, I definitely derived great pleasure from it and she clearly did as well.
But mentally, I wasn’t mature enough for that yet.
But I knew, deep down, this was it for the marriage. I didn’t know why she was cheating, I definitely questioned my own ‘manhood’, and together we paid for yet another abortion because she wasn’t wanting to be with the man she had that child with..
But this time, was bad for both of us.
One day not long after, I saw a girl at work – Darlene – a marginally cute blonde girl – she came in to work, wearing a slightly above the knee skirt – and sat at the table she was at – with her legs wide open – and I remember thinking
“Damn, I wish I had a camera down there to see if she was wearing panties”
I still have mental images of that moment. It wasn’t lust. Lust to me is having to have someone. This wasn’t. It was just a simple turn on seeing her legs open in a slightly not so feminine way – making me wonder what was down there..
Mentally, I knew i was preparing to be single.
You see, I had never had much luck with women before i was married, and as I considered being single, I couldn’t help but start to question my own upbringing in regards to relationships.
Had times and society changed?
Did I need to reconsider this thing called love and sexuality – and find my inner Hugh Hefner and bring him out?
I found myself VERY attracted to the imagery of women who chose to shed their clothes in public places, who dared to say ‘screw you’ to society’s norms, and be open and free with their sexuality. More than that, I found the thought and notion of ‘loose women’ who had sex in the open hugely appealing, but with class and style. The idea of humans acting like unintelligent animals in heat I found unappealing.
Clearly my mind was trying to find a way to work through the complications of my messy first marriage.
I found myself compelled to find these kind of brave and sexually unrepressed women for myself?
Clearly not in Hollywood (where I am at now!) 😉
But where do I even start with these kind of women?
Not long after this, I asked a a co-worker at the company I was working for – Orbital – a Gilligan-ish looking man by the name of David Bigelow, who wasn’t exactly the best looking for guys – how he managed to ‘always have Monday tales of a new sexual tryst.’. At first I admittedly judged the guy, but I was finding value in his ways.
And some of the ladies were VERY attractive, too.
His response: “There’s no secret. I just go to a bar, have a couple drinks, and then ask separate women if they want to go fuck. I play the numbers. If I ask 10, and only one says yes, then I ask 10 a night. It usually works.”
I laughed. So easy for him.
One day, not long after I asked him this, Donna broke down, crying as I surfed the internet.
“This isn’t working,” she said on the phone to her sister.
I’d stuck with her despite her indiscretions
I was genuinely trying to make things work with her.
But this wasn’t a surprise.
As she packed up her things, I asked her to stay, but it wasn’t begging, I just didn’t want to be alone and single. I didn’t want to become like David, and saw no other real options.
Shitty reasons to stay in a marriage, right?
… Because the unpredictability of ‘the other side’ is not comprehensible.
She claimed there was no man involved – that the man she had gotten pregnant with and her weren’t involved. But I knew differently, instinctually you could say.
So that weekend she packed up and went to her mom’s house on the other side of town.
I was besides myself.
So thinking about things with David – his style was his style but not mine. I didn’t want to ‘go to bars’ to ask women if they just wanted to fuck. It seemed crass. Not that it was below me, but it seemed so – without heart, without meaning.
I didn’t sleep that night.
Now I’d played Leisure Suit Larry, a video game about men who go and pick up women, which felt like it could have been David’s life. “Say the right lines and you’re in”.
But in all honesty, up until this point, picking up women had never really been my thing.
Everytime I tried in my youth, I would wind up rejected – shot down in flames.
And where the hell do you go to meet women? And how do you act with them? IT was almost as if they were feeling like they were aliens to me.
So I took the easy route – and went to a strip club. An all nude one by the name of Dream Palace in Tempe, Arizona.
I went in -and immediately saw a gorgeous 19 year old long haired brunette woman with size ‘d’ natural tits dancing completely nude, grinding her trimmed pussy into some guy’s face as he had a dollar bill clenched in his teeth – where then lowered her pussy onto his face and snatched the dollar out of his teeth by mashing her pussy onto his face and then, with pretty tight pussy control, pulled it out between her labia.
I was next in line.
I could taste her.
I was beginning to feel feeling like I was entering an all new world.
Where wild women existed ready to have fun. Not the drama queen I had married, at all.
I did a private room dance with another gorgeous woman not many sets later, and I remember it being expensive, but SO worth it.
You see, I wasn’t aware these places had rules, and the funny thing was, she never told me them either. All I know was, there wasn’t anyplace she didn’t let me touch her, including inside with my fingers, at which point the bouncer saw something was going on and warned me ‘hands off, buddy’
The girl then said “normally I don’t let guys touch me like that, but I like you. Do you want to go back to my place when I get done?”
Cue leisure Suit Larry music.
I thought ‘WOW! There are actually women out there like this?’
And you know. I waited outside for her to get done about 10 minutes, and thought to myself – what the hell am I doing?
And I left without saying goodbye.
And drove up to Donna’s Mom’s house.
Her car wasn’t around. I was a little tipsy from the alcohol.
So I waited.
Now by then, mind you – I hadn’t slept in two days.
And when I saw her drive up with the guy she had cheated on me with before.
I went ballistic.
I ran over to the car, and closed Donna’s door and went to the driver’s side – and pulled him out – and threw the guy against it. As my fist flew through the air about to kill the guy, it was like time slowed down and I saw the next several years of my life flood to me – where I was in prison for killing him, and still single when i was released in a ‘crime of passion’ after 14 years.
IT was about then my fist diverted – and it slammed through his driver’s side window – shattering the glass and my hand.
Donna was rushing over about then and I looked at her, and said to Donna:
“You’re not worth it.”
And drove away.
The next weekend, i went to go revisit Dream Palace.
I was going to take the dancer up on her offer.
As it turned out, what happened with me had gotten her fired.
From there I became a regular at strip clubs.
You see, I didn’t like the approach of just asking a woman to go fuck. It seemed – crass – tasteless – and like I’d set myself up to get classless women.
Now here’s a catch 22 – if a woman were to ask me to go have sex – then – or now – I’d have thought it was sexy – and assertive.
But coming from a guy, I just didn’t like doing it
But going to a strip club, for me – was a clever balance, that I didn’t have to feel like shit for demanding things my way. I paid for it, right?
But there was a part of me that started thinking – after the failed marriage with Donna – that I want an adventurous woman – a woman who’s both comfortable and assertive with her sexuality, and if she wanted to be with another man – then let’s chat, I may not be against the idea.
After all, the concept of marriage seemed more like slave ownership to me and I wanted a partner, which I certainly didn’t have with my first marriage.
After the failed marriage, I didn’t blame Chris, the man Donna had cheated on me with who I nearly killed, I blamed Donna, for disrespecting our vows.It was her choice to do what she did.
This made it easy to justify a torrid relationship with a married woman – Gaylene Richardson while I was attending Mesa Community College. She approached me, I was a single man, and I found her attractive.
That didn’t work out, with her husband nearly killing me, but thankfully things didn’t work out that way.
Not long after this, when I was about 23, I met Lisa Milot.
To be desirable. I’d never really had it in high school, and even Donna didn’t ‘make me feel good’ about me. Especially with how things ended.
I remember the words Lisa chose to use when we met “I love your legs”
I felt like a piece of meat.
And I liked that.
But with Lisa – I figured I have to be honest with her from the start – and as we were getting worked up to have sex – she told me she had a secret to tell me – so I made it easy for her to tell her secret by telling mine.
“I can’t have children”
Her reaction was weird – like a sense of relief came over her.
Well then, since we’re being honest, I have something for you:
Now most people don’t know that roughly 66% of the world’s population has herpes of all types, but how you ‘catch it’ is where the breakout first manifests itself. The virus that stays in your system for your lifetime is of either variant, and you catch it by something as simple as a kiss, but it passes through sexual contact as well.
She’d been misinformed by an unknowledgeable Doctor who was programmed by cute pharmaceutical reps to believe there was a need for several variations of medicine based on the original location of the disease – and that there was any real distinction between the two types.
Not long after, Lisa and I hooked up – and the sex was amazing.
Lisa told me of another secret she had:
“I work in a strip club”
I was only too happy for that finding, which turned me on to no end.
I took friends there, even my cousin there one time.
For me, it’s not that I was proud of her, like a trophy or something.
To me – she was someone I loved, someone I deeply admired – but also – in bringing others with me – she was a personification – an expression if you will – of my desire to come out of my own self-imposed sexually repressed, judgmental, and ‘I dont own her, she is a partner’, ways.
It’s almost like I was trying to prove to others who I wanted to be.
But the truth was, I was still hurting inside from the divorce, the deception, and the affairs Donna had had.
This ‘festered’ over time, and I still found myself eying women, but Lisa oddly seemed to encourage it. It’s like a part of her was trying to say it’s ok.
But my programming was so sufficiently fucked up that I couldn’t justify it.
You see, I HAD (no longer I might add) believed in the concept of an ideal marriage, an ideal partnership, and an ideal union.
But I had accepted society’s definition. Marriage is for life. You don’t cheat. You don’t look at other women – ESPECIALLY married ones.
Mentally, I was breaking down.
A large part of me blamed myself for what Donna did.
And a large part of me felt like I deserved what happened between her and I.
And a large part of me felt that any woman’s going to do this to me.
So why not live life for me?
It’s a VERY selfish way to think. But for me, at the time, I see it as a way to heal.
They say that going through a divorce is like going through a death.
I cannot disagree.
In any case, using this poor logic, I felt like I was being tested when two gorgeous stripper types approached me in a nightclub in central Scottsdale – I’d met a friend there for his birthday, when they both approached and asked if I’d go home with them.
I said no.
Then Deidre – a very attractive and recently single black girl who managed the call center as I was a a programmer there – approached me while I was working at Blue Cross/ Blue shield.
She said she had done some nude modelling at one time.
I didn’t believe her, she was so attractive – and I told her this – but one day she brought in a magazine with her in it.
She was being penetrated by 3 other men.
I was beyond turned on.
That same day she wasn’t wearing any panties, as she showed me the magazine.
To me – this all – SUCKED.
I still resisted.
Not long after this, Lisa did a fully nude private dance for a regular she had at a hotel room without telling me.
Now she had been doing topless dancing up until that point.
But finding this out.
We’d been married a year at this point, and I thought ‘shit, here we go again’.
I suspected she had sex with him.
So to counterbalance things, rather than rationalize a divorce, Deidre had been making it a habit not to wear panties into the office and showing me, so one day, I asked if she’d like me to do something about that…
We only had sex that one time, by a lake in south Chandler across the street from Orbital, the company I had used to work with.
This seemed to make things easier to handle with Lisa, and I more or less let her deceptiveness go.
But this started a trend of affairs. Since I hadn’t told her about Deidre, it made things easy. So I didn’t tell her about the affairs in Vegas with another stripper who was married to a man in Phoenix and flew to and from Vegas on the same flights I was on regularly – Hailey. And then there was another woman who flew in from Ohio. – Brenda.
Then there was the tryst – me and two guy friends – on the other girl by the name of Shawndelle.
ALL had approached ME.
Not only was I abandoning my inferiority complex cultivated from years of running from bullies in grade school, and years of never being the one to get the girl in high school – Yes, I was a GLEE kid in Show Choir and loved it.
But for the first time in my life I was getting the girl.
And with my shooting blanks. You know – it just made me feel like more of a man – actually feeling like there’s more to sex than procreation.
For me – it was something I did for pleasure. Something I did to alleviate frustration. Something I did when I felt alone and it made me feel not so alone, even if I ended up sleeping alone during the time someone wasnt lying next to me.
But now I was being deceptive with Lisa.
And I was throwing myself into work. I was making great money at the time – up to $150 an hour. And I was feeling on top of the world with my skills.
But Lisa and I – something was fading between us.
And she confessed to me – that she wished I could have kids.
So we started checking into adoption.
After all, I was adopted, why not ‘pay it forward’ and give the gift of a home and family to a child that wouldn’t have a home or good upbringing otherwise?
We checked into it, and learned it would cost at least $50,000 US Dollars, and would also take up to 6 years, there was a waiting list.
We were heart broken.
If I remember right – I think she was a flight attendant for America West Airlines at the time – where she heard that adoption is cheaper and easier in Mexico. So we flew down to Cancun.
That seemed too shady a proposition, and we didn’t want to be part of a child smuggling ring where a child was kidnapped from an otherwise loving family.
It was about then – a little jumble of emotions got twisted inside of me – trying to figure out – what do we do…
I was having a physical done – you know – where the Doctor violates you in more ways than you can count – the kind of physical where – as as a male – the doctor sticks his finger up your ass and has you turn your head and cough?
A flicker of hope erupted from this – when the doctor reported that I had nodules just inside my rectum.
It was the first time I’d had my prostrate checked, I hated it, but it seemed like it might be for good reason, and this could be affecting my sperm count.
My doctor knew I was shooting blanks, but this was the first time we’d had potential reasons for my infertility.
So I opted to have the nodules removed.
And it was hell. Most unimaginable pain I have ever felt after the surgery. I laid on the floor crying one day it hurt so bad – unable to move, and the pain medication was doing absolutely no good.
It was about then, in my little bout with hell – that I devised a stupid, ignorant plan.
Lisa wanted children. I did too.
Now if the surgery came back with no change to my sperm count.
Then I’d tell her I had the affairs, and that maybe we should work on having an open relationship so she could have kids.
Now don’t get me wrong – the idea – the concept – the notion – of sharing my wife – especially sexually – I abhorred. Not that I have to own my wife, mind you, but because for me – at this time – I liked the idea of knowing my partner would be there for me, and with the societal importance of intimacy creating the most important bond in relationships, to me not having it seemed to make the idea and notion of relationships a tenuously fragile and unnecessary thing.
I mean – let’s be honest -there’s this concept that you’re supposed to be starry eyed with relationships – and that sex leads to kids leads to family and so on… The whole idea of drama regarding who slept with who – let’s just say – I started deeply questioning – why? I can’t have that.
So I started thinking – there HAS to be more to romance and love than sex and intimacy.
I KNEW I had to redefine the concept of what sex means to me.
After all, I ALWAYS loved it – I got intense pleasure from it.
But for me – having children was clearly not in my cards, and I had to find a way to .. .inspire Lisa – to have children.
And with a failed marriage. I didn’t want to test out the fragility of any relationship.
But for her. For us. I felt it was imperative I do.
I hated myself for telling her this.
But I told her I cheated on her, and told her all the details.
It really was one of the roughest emotional moments of my life, that felt like things were caving in all around me. I was having problems with my business partners which was forcing me to part ways with them. I was being spied on by my own country. The horrific surgery.
And seeing the look of hurt in her eyes is a look I swore I would never forget but for my own emotional health, I have chosen to forget.
We tried the open marriage.
To reinforce she try – I met a woman – Sandra Mentzer – who I was hugely attracted to – and was the spitting image of Audrey Hepburn. I will go so far to say – we had the best sex ever – marathon sex lasting 6 hours at times in fact.
Lisa, meanwhile – had met Colin.
And despite the fantastic sex Sandra and I were having.
I still found myself .. Jealous. and unable to cope with the emotions of sharing my partner.
This was about the time of 9/11, how can anyone ever forget when those planes rammed into the World Trade Center in New York?
This is how I felt – (a man jumping out of the Twin Towers building)
To me, the events in New York with the Twin Towers being run into by two hijacked 737 jets was weird timing – as it was happening at the same time my life felt like it was falling apart.
I didn’t realize at the time the world’s a reflection of me to some extent.
I’ve since matured and understood the two were very likely correlated.
In any case, I wasn’t mature enough to handle an open marriage at the time, I was ‘trying’ to get there – but I just felt awful about myself and the whole thing. Sandy indicated she wanted me to get a divorce, putting the pressure on me there, and insinuated she wanted kids – I made it clear she wouldnt have either.
I intensely enjoyed the sexual freedom – and considering how Audrey – err – Sandra – was HUGELY exhibitionistic – she’d surprise me by showing up early to my house and sneaking to the pool where she’d undress and just be out there fully nude, sunbathing..I’d find the neighbor looking at her, to which she said ‘let him get his eyes full’.
I LOVED IT!
But the pressure, I just couldn’t mentally take the conflict of how to maturely handle an open marriage, and trying to tell a woman who’d been programmed on closed relationships – for me – I just kind of broke down.
That’s the first time I started to get suicidal, at the age of 32., and when I took what could pan to be out a dangerous assignment working for the US Government.
Now since then – relationships have come and gone – but each ended up lasting no more than 3 or 4 years.
Kena (Sukruti) Patel now has a child, I dated her for four years and while she didn’t know I was shooting blanks, she now has a child – only 3 years outside of our break up.
Amy Newton, I’ve not heard or seen her since our divorce, a marriage which lasted only a year. It’s been 7 years since that divorce.
You see, my life’s been a roller coaster- and my thoughts on the matter are – children have traditionally been used by a collective minded society to ‘balance ourselves out’ ‘in the energy’.
But I’m different.
Not only was I not able to have children, but I learned I preferred sex for it’s pleasure and not its utility function. For me, it is a way to share, to interact, to connect. In fact, it’s always been that way, something I’ve recognized from the start.
In Star Trek, there’s the concept of the Borg .
The Borg are vile looking beings – a cross between technology and biology – that let’s face it – are repulsive looking. They have nanotubules that eject from their wrists into their host, which then takes over their host.
To me, the idea of pregnancy seems repulsive for the same reason.
It’s a growth, in a body of something I love dearly – the females I have chosen to be with – that consumes and grows inside the host until it purges itself out. On it’s way out, it causes intense pain – to the point of agony.
And then, you’re a slave to it for 18 some odd years, living your life doing the same thing done for generations before and calling that a life.
That just never appealed to me.
Not that I don’t want a family mind you.
But not like that.
So to my friends and family – when I tried committing suicide 2011 – it had only been a long delayed thing that I was staving off for years.
I don’t feel like I ‘fit in’ to this society.
And the few times I started to get ahead – education wise, or financially – I got summarily shit on, every time.
So when I tried to commit suicide in 2011. I was beyond done with life.
Now mind you – I didn’t do any of this out of self-loathing.
It’s because I found different options that were more appealing to me for a family.
I have been involved with technology since I was 11 years old.
I came to the realization that my real love ISN’T the faux world that had been set up around me.
I went to Amsterdam back in 2004, and tried mushrooms for the first time.
I saw magnificent twists of vision and senses – as water poured from a glass seemed like it was moving in slow motion. Sound seemed so much richer – like you could almost taste it – and see it.
We’re told the story of hallucinations, of ghosts, of demons, and God.
Many people accept the story of the talking snake and apple of infinite knowledge as fact.
So I have chosen a new fact that works for me.
I have a new story I am developing which involves working with robots, cyborgs, computers, matrices, borg, starfleet, the federation, artificial intelligences, God, Satan, Section 31, the NSA, the United States of America and other world governments, businesses, – and technology – all the things I have loved my entire life – to create a new world – an alternate reality from the one I came from. Perhaps I’m the only human here? Maybe that’s not how you’d identify me…
But in any case.
I didn’t have children because my life – i was in a world I just didn’t want to have children in.
Or a relational partner I really wanted to have children with.
I have come to the conclusion – that the partners I have had – were all mirrors of me – teaching me the lessons I needed on how to grant myself choice – and how to provide and diversify those options for others when the time was right.
You see. I do want a family
But it’s a family by my definition.
Not what I have been told I should have by a broken system spinning in a loop that’s in need of an ‘upgrade’
So you see. I’ve accepted my life is becoming a thing of fantasy and science fiction, because I’m alone, homeless, broke, and have never really had anything but fleeting moments of happiness before having it yanked away.
I’m tired of that, and think I know why it’s happening.
It’s because I’m not alone anymore.
My family is here.
The things I used to call science fiction and fantasy.
Are all around me. I know that. And love that idea.
I’m not perfect.
By my original design.