Am I real?

I'm back!!!

I know it's been a while. A long while. I got caught up, and actually didn't really feel like blogging. I always wondered who read the damn thing anyway. I know when I did my old blog, I had a lot of readers, and when I started this one, I could have cared less who read it, or who didn't. The point being that I could put my thoughts out into the cosmic void and I had control on who could comment and who could not. This time I came back because I wanted to, actually to spout things back into that cosmic void and get them off my chest.

I will update you on my life later.......right now I am focusing on am I real, or just a person behind a monitor. I have been reading some rants on Fetlife and wow, talk about out of control! I have been reading rants on Fet for about a week now, well actually longer but the certain things I am reading about right now, makes me wonder about people. I have to wonder why people think they have the right to judge another, or to say this person isn’t that, or that person isn’t that, or perhaps that person isn’t that at all. In the realm of psychology we use terms that people can understand, we use terms that lead to visuals so people can relate or understand. We may say something like wow that is HOT, just so people understand. Yes, I know I am rambling, but I am making a point. I would get up on my soapbox but then people might say I am role playing, cuz I don’t have a soapbox here right in front of me.

I may be talking to my neighbor and say something to the effect of how hot it is going to be tomorrow, and that neighbor is going to know hot means sticky, muggy, humid, or whatever else they deem with that term of HOT. Just as another person could use kajira, slave, sub, subbie, submissive, bottom, pain slut, yadda, yadda, and we all conjure up what WE have in our individual opinions. Personally I hate the term subbie, but I am not going to degrade someone who uses it. Just as I hate to call all capped up people Master, or Mistress, but there are conditions where I must. And then we get to the next part, role play. Do I play a slave online? Am I real or just a figment of your imagination? According to some, I would not be real, because I may be in an online chat room, typing out an action post. Oh my! Are those things I have never done, nope.  Perhaps they are just a description that I have pulled from my experience and I enjoy giving another person a visual, just as I did the neighbor. Perhaps that is how we relate at times, in a world where we have only the written language.

And perhaps it is not any different than belonging to Fet, and coming on here and putting pictures up, showing off what we did the night before in a make-believe dungeon, or in a make believe world. Or maybe it is no different than professing to own a slave when slavery is illegal. Or maybe it is no different than saying you are owned 24/7, and you have papers to prove it, or a number put on a tag. Maybe it is no different than claiming to NEVER have partaken in any type of role play and judging those who have. Maybe it is no different than putting a collar on someone when in reality it is nothing more than a pretty necklace, or a pretty anklet to those who do not understand the meaning behind the term.

I have a question to all those that have judged….to all those that will continue to judge professing their world or lifestyle is the only way to live. To all those that judge based on a term, or a word that is used to describe another person, or an honorific that one self-professes to claim.

Am I real or just a figment of your imagination?

 

I would say that I am now climbing down from my soapbox and sauntering off into the darkness, but when in reality, I am going to go and seek out a sandwich in my kitchen…...

 

Life goes on......

The "REBEL"

The Rebel

Here I bet you thought I was talking about me! Well I can be a rebel, but I am talking about The Rebel! A sexy vibrator from, Babeland This one is great for those G-spots ladies! It is a vibrator that has a curve to it, you can use it for clit stimulation, or you can use it for that G-spot. It is waterproof too! Hmm, just think of all the things you can do in the bathtub with this one. Now your imagination is working, I hope!!

I just had to try this out! Well sometimes you have to try things out just to see....well you get my drift.


I took this in my bathtub, just to try out this wonderful waterproof silicone, one speed vibrator. I turned the water on hot, added some of my favorite bubble bath, and away we went! Ohh, sorry I got a little carried away there! But this sexy vibrator really hits the spot! And it is small enough you can tuck it in your purse, your bag and take it away with you on one of those weekend trips.

I love Babeland , they are women-friendly and have a variety of sex toys and vibrators! So check them out today, and see all the goodies they have!!! I assure you won't be disappointed!







Life goes on..........

Substance.

 

 

Substance is something I crave. Substance is something I need. And I am not talking about that kind of substance that fills you up to the point you couldn't eat another bite. I am talking about life substance. About the kind of substance that I need in my universe. I am talking about the 'meat' of the matter. That type of substance that clings inside and fills me up. I have needed that type of substance way before I realized what it was/is. And once I did, I knew that I had to have even more. I think it goes even deeper than a base need, it goes to this desperate quiet place inside that brews and bubbles away until it is fed. That need goes to the core of who I am. Kind of hard to put into words, but I know that I must have 'it'. Without it I do not thrive. Without it I kind of wither inside but yet at the same time, it boils more to the point of boiling over and turning into an obsession.

I am talking about the core inside me that needs that power exchange, that need to be mastered, that need to be made complete. For most of my life I have heard something similar to, "You don't need a man to be happy." Wanna bet! I do, and will dispute that. For years that has made me feel like a freak because I do and desperately. I have heard it from my mother, my sister, family, friends, and just plain in general. Can I live on my own? Can I support myself? Can I raise children all alone? Yes, and I have. But there is one part that did not feed me in all that. Where was the substance. Where was that deep seated need fed. It wasn't and therefore I was not complete.

A friend and I were talking the other day about this, and how my 'need' came to be. For as long as I remember I have had that need. I can remember formulating ideas in my head at an early age of what I needed in that and even then I felt like a freak. I learned that it did not fit in with the other girls I hung with. They wanted marriage and I wanted so much more. Some of them wanted to go off and be independent. After all I was raised in the 60's and 70's where women's lib was just coming into play. Burning bras and all that and I would hear these rants about how NO women needed a man to make her happy. I wanted to stand up and shout, "WRONG!" but in my quiet journey, I didn't.

I was married the first time at 18, but only because I was dumb and got pregnant. That sure didn't last long, because there was no substance to it. He fed none of my needs. A couple more failed relationships and then I took a stand. I wasn't going to settle anymore. I started to search out men that I assumed were powerful in their own rights and through one of them I found an alternative lifestyle. One that showed me men were the leaders, and women were the followers. Oh boy, there was substance in that! That was something I had searched for my entire life. And it fed me. I wanted/needed more and more.

But for a long time it was like living a double life. The outside world kept up their harping about women are equal to men and my world preached that women were not. I felt tugged and pulled in many different directions. I had a powerful job where women were basically equal and I was in charge of men. But in my private life I would dig my fork into the substance and hang on for dear life. I was fighting to be fed that substance. And that is when the desperation would come. How in the heck did I find that balance. I made check lists, I put labels to people. I had my own risk factor chart.

And trust me, I made plenty of mistakes along the way. I ended up with men who couldn't dominate their way out of a paper bag, I met abusers. I met men who were very dominant but yet at the same time, didn't fulfill those needs. For one reason or another. But I learned, I learned how to refine my lists, and my labels. I learned how to define myself. I learned what would feed me and what would not. Not once did that desperate need go away to find that one that could feed me and make me complete. I needed substance and had to find a way to be fed. The journey has been interesting and knowledgeable and full of passion and learning, but always an end goal in sight.

I have learned to put those voices of the outside world away. I have learned that if my needs are not met, I am going to have them met, one way or another. I have learned that if those needs of long ago are not met with my expectations, I will move on until they are. I used to wonder if that made me shallow, until I realized they are needs for a reason. You can squash them down inside, but you can never remove them. They are just as important to me as the food I eat. They nourish me, they give me substance.

Life goes on.................

Middle of the Week Musings.

Happy Hump Day.

Every time I get ready to post on my blog, something pops up. And no, get your minds out of the gutter, I mean things like reality checks, and I fear that if I do post, it may sound negative.

Ohh hell, who cares, it is negative. We had a death in the family this week, and it sucks. Another death in less than two years. Too many. Way too many.

I keep trying to think of positive cliches, and not gonna happen.

My washer broke yesterday.

I looked at my last post and thought it has been a while since I posted. Holidays over, thank goodness, and here I am again, in winter. That time of year I hate the most. But at least it has been pretty mild.

On a good note, we meaning "Slick" got a new puppy a few weeks ago. She is adorable. We are now the proud owners of a German shepherd puppy named, Freya. We now have a cat and a dog and two adult children, and one boyfriend, and I do not need a partridge in a pear tear.

I keep wondering will they possibly grow up some day and move out. The Diva is 21, and the Diva's boyfriend is 25, and Slick is 19. It seems that my house is growing instead of dwindling. I may never know what empty nest feels like. I wonder if I can try it sometime.

Before I am too old to enjoy it.

Hm, on other notes.........

Life goes on........

Rest in Peace Darling.

"There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief....and unspeakable love." ~Washington Irving~

I came to the conclusion that I have been enwrapped in grief. He has been gone for almost nineteen months now and I thought by now I would have been over it. I willed it away, or so I thought. When I took out the Christmas decorations this year, (Something I did not do last year) I found the stockings he made us the year before he died. And then I knew, at that very moment, I have been experiencing grief all this time. I gave myself a deadline of a year, and told myself that I needed to get over it. To move past it, that was long enough to grieve, long enough to complain to my friends and family about how lonely I felt, how sad it made me. How sad I was for him too, that his life was cut short at the age of 48.

I thought that I had to get over it. I told myself that so therefore it should have been true. I still have his pictures up, I still have his memories surrounding me, and I refused to "see" them. I just left them as they were. I mean they were not bothering anyone, so why should I bother them. But when I opened that box that contained all the Christmas decorations, a smile crossed my mouth, not tears, but a smile. He had put everything away so neat and nice, and had everything ready for the next year. But that next year never came for him, and I decided last year not to celebrate much and left the decorations as they were.

I thought I had paid my tributes to him already, and that was enough. I tried to erase those memories and go on with living. Only I realized I had stopped living, and was only pretending to live. I went through the motions, well sort of. But yet never really living again, until I saw those decorations and it hit me. I miss him, and that is okay. It is okay to miss him, it is okay to smile or cry, or whatever emotion crosses into me, at the thought of him. He will always live in my memory, and I plan on keeping it that way.

Never again will I try and erase him from my memory. I will keep him close always, and know that he rests in peace.

Life goes on......

The many faces of Cinderella.

Sometimes I feel like every one's maid, scrubbing, cleaning, cooking, grocery shopping, doing toilets, and all that kind of stuff. But after all I do have two children at home, and did I mention that Diva is 21 and Slick is 19? Not that I could ever expect them to do much, it is a major ordeal if I get them to do the dishes, take out the garbage, anyway you get the idea. But it is not really about being a "slave" to them, it is about the many faces of me. The different thoughts of mine, and how they have changed over the years.

I was trained over the years to be a "submissive/slave" type. I was taught to act proper and how to behave. Only I have to say many times my sarcastic mouth got in the way, and then I learned to tone it down, only to find that I lost myself. I think I was living a fantasy, and forgot how to be myself. I forgot how to be "me." I have this vision of having the perfect Prince Charming, well with a lot of that dominant side. I expected so many things, and more times than not, they did not happen. I have been with some great dominants, don't get me wrong, but I have hid behind myself too. When I did not agree with one of those dominants, I learned to hush and not give a true opinion. I did a blog once of the many faces of Laurie Dawn, but that is not what this one is about. There are times I feel like Cinderella, like the person who had no expectations, but was expected to keep her mouth shut, and just do as she was told.

I know, I know, when bringing up a princess' type most think of a princess slave, one who wants her own way and expects her own way. I just want to be able to feel that I am allowed to be "me" and have expectations, not exactly of the perfect princess, but I want to be me, I am high maintenance, I am needy, clingy, and I want/need to be consumed. I want to be that princess at the end of the ball who gets the perfect fit. It doesn't have to be the perfect likeness as most are probably thinking by now, I just want it to fit. I want to be allowed to be me in all of that. I am not going to change, and I want to be accepted for me. I don't fit into the molds that I did at the beginning of this journey, nor do I fit in the molds that I did in the middle of this journey. I have learned, I have learned to be cynical, jaded, needier, and even more high maintenance.

I guess what I am trying to say, life has left me jaded, I used to give out a list of needs/wants/desires, and I still have that list, but I have added and taken away certain things over the years. I want a man to know me, and learn me, and be able to handle me, without thinking that I am throwing down a challenge, just by simply knowing me. I want to be allowed to act like myself at times, and not be looked down upon and called something I am not. I have heard that you can be anything in this lifestyle, in this way of life, and I want to be me. I have been hiding behind too many walls for too many years, and I want someone to drag me out. I have been a wallflower for a while now, and I want someone to yank me up and dance with me in the darkness, and in the light.

The bottom line, I want that perfect fit and I want it NOW!  I guess I just have to learn to stop running away.


Life goes on......

Middle of the Week Musings.

Happy Hump Day.


"I would hurl words into the darkness and wait for an echo, and if an echo sounded, no matter how faintly, I would send other words to tell, to march, to fight, to create a sense of hunger for life that gnaws in us all." ~Richard Wright~


Long week and it is only Wednesday. My youngest son turned 19 this week, and this is the first time I have not spent his birthday with him. It sucks. I guess I am not ready for him to leave home, well not in this way. Granted he is only supposed to be gone for a week, but we will see if the sperm donor lets him come back home.

I am sitting here looking at a blank screen, going what do I have to write about. Not much lately. So maybe I will just hurl words into the darkness, and wait for that echo. I had another episode last night, and find that they are harder and harder in middle-age. They have taken a toll on me, and I really wish they would just go away.

Not much to look forward to, other than winter. Ick.


I need a life.


Life goes on......

Victim vs. Slave? Slave vs. Doormat?

 "The quality of decision is like the well-timed swoop of a falcon which enables it to strike and destroy its victim." ~Sun Tzu ~



I keep reading such things all over the forums, and blogs, "I am not a doormat." and other such forms of that. What does it mean to be a doormat, I say it means to be a victim.

victim  1 .a person who suffers from a destructive or injurious action or agency:  2. a person who is deceived or cheated, as by his or her own emotions or ignorance, by the dishonesty of others, or by some impersonal agency: a victim of misplaced confidence; the victim of a swindler; a victim of an optical illusion. 3. a person or animal sacrificed or regarded as sacrificed: war victims. 4. a living creature sacrificed in religious rites.


doormat  1. (Clothing, Personal Arts & Crafts / Textiles) a mat, placed at the entrance to a building, for wiping dirt from shoes. 2. Informal a person who offers little resistance to ill-treatment by others.

Sounds pretty much like the same thing to me. Perhaps to some just a matter of semantics, but if you regard the meaning, doormat=victim. No where in there do I see where it means to be a slave in the terms of submissive.
 
slave 1. One bound in servitude as the property of a person or household. 2. One who is abjectly subservient to a specified person or influence.
 
I suppose one could be a slave to an influence of victim behavior, but I choose to be empowered in my slavery.
 
empower 1. To invest with power, especially legal power or official authority. See Synonyms at authorize. 2. To equip or supply with an ability; enable.
 
I lived long enough in the victim state, and I caved in that state too many times, and now I choose to be empowered in my slavery. To be equipped with knowledge that enables me to live it in such a way that I no longer have to be a victim. I have the right to choose. I have the right to tell the world, "I am not a doormat."
 

Life goes on.........

Middle of the Week Musings.

Happy Hump Day.

This is how I feel today, defeated.

And keep asking myself, is my "Friday" right around the corner?

I hope so, I am tired of being tired, and feeling defeated. I am tired of getting up each and every day and trying to not feel defeated. I won't go into details, but I am just fucking tired.

"But there is suffering in life, and there are defeats. No one can avoid them. but it's better

to lose some of the battles in the struggles for your dreams than to be defeated without ever knowing

what you're fighting for."

  ~Paulo Coelho~

And that about sums it up, if I know what I am fighting for, that is different, but lately, some of the battles I have no idea what they are, or if they are even included in my dreams.

On a brighter note, I went to a benefit for a friend on Saturday night, and it was very nice. It is nice to see family, friends and a community come together for a good cause.

And Slick is turning 19 on Tuesday. Wow, my youngest and time sure flies. He won't be here this year, he is going to spend the week with the sperm donor. The very first year I haven't spent his birthday with him. That sucks.

All I have to say, is I hope my "Friday" hurries.

Life goes on.......



Middle of the Week Musings.

Happy Hump Day.

Just think, only two more days til Friday. So many people look forward to the weekend, and I just look forward to getting better, or getting stronger.

The death of a loved one has taken its toll in so many ways that I cannot even begin to describe. Nor do I want to go into too many details. I am left with the aftermath and I am still angry. And that does no good for me, or my problems with PTSD, or anxiety or the other number of disorders I suffer with. I am trying to get past the anger, I am trying to get past the part where I have no idea what direction my life is heading, but death changes that. I keep trying to put some structure into my life, and I keeping falling down.

I have almost completely locked myself in my bedroom. I go out, but only if I absolutely have to. I try to have a normal relationship, well as "normal" as I am, but I find myself not doing that very well either. I wonder at times if I am too hard, or too demanding in my needs. My goal for last year was to try and start living life again and it still appears to be my goal for this year.

I have taken these four walls of my bedroom and made it my "safe" place, only it isn't, but I suppose it is the safest place I have in my life, or as safe as anyplace can be right at this time in my life.

But at times it seems like a prison, or is that I am a prisoner in my own mind. Locked in a dark, scary place where there is no escape? I would like to think there is an escape, but then I think of my past, and my present, and wonder will I ever get past these things that hinder my future. And there is no answer.

I tried to give myself a year of grief, and found that did not work. I am afraid to get back out there and live again, even though I am trying. I am still afraid. I am tired of being told I am the strong one and I can do it. Can I?

I am tired of people thinking they know me and what I need, only to find out they are giving me nothing I need. I am not blaming this on anyone other than myself. And why I have to put a disclaimer in, I have no idea, perhaps I need validation on why I feel this way, or perhaps just to have validation all by itself.

I usually try to keep it pretty light on here, and then I wonder why I do that. I wonder why I waste my time writing down only part of my thoughts, or afraid someone might read this that knows me, and find out that I am broken.

I made a choice today, a choice to put my life in order, or at least to figure out how to, or figure out what is wrong with it and it is time to allow myself the freedom of expressing thoughts.

Life goes on......

Middle of the Week Musings.

Happy Hump Day! Get your mind out of the gutters!! This is not about "doing it." This is about life handing you a shove it up your ass, I mean handing you roadblocks. Or whatever you want to call it. I prefer to say, that life just got shoved up your ass a whole lot. 'Nuff said.

It has been a hell of a week, two weeks, a month, two months, a year. And no it isn't time for a year in review. I am sitting here, supposed to be cleaning the house, and I don't wanna. I want to be at the beach, soaking up the sun, not here chilly and feeling like cindrella, and not the part about going to the ball. I am the cindrella, with the rags on, dust on her nose, down on her hands and knees, cleaning. Ick.

Sometimes I think we have too much stuff. Okay, most of the time I think I have too much stuff. Why in the world do we need so much stuff. I was thinking earlier about a simple life, and I barely have room for a simple life. I was searching for places to put things, and found that I am out of room. I guess maybe I should have a sale, or a give-away thingie. Just bag it all up and donate it to Goodwill.

And did I mention middle-age. Egads, menopause, bi-focals, hypothyrodism, just to name a few. Ick.

I am not ready for fall, let alone the upcoming winter. It seems like summer just started and it's almost over. Ick.

Hey, give me some credit, I am trying to think of something good. I really am, but........

I guess I am glad that ......

I have another chance....maybe tomorrow.......

Life goes on......

Close Out Sale!

I am having a close out sale! I retired from the "public scene" a few years back and I have decided to gather some of the stuff left behind by others, and get rid of it.

Here are the promised pictures from the ad I put up on Fetlife.

Thanks for stopping by.

Life goes on........

Walking on eggshells......

"If you limit your choices only to what seems possible or reasonable, you disconnect yourself from what you truly want, and all that is left is compromise."

~Robert Fritz~

It is like I woke up one morning and found myself angry. Very angry, and I had to stop and ask myself, "Why am I so angry?" I really had to stop and think, and analyze and take inventory of my life. I found that anger goes back many years and it is carried into the present, and I pray that it is not carried into the future. For the past year and a half I attributed it to grief and all that entails, but then I realized it went back further than that, and grief only added to the anger. I have been carrying that anger around for too many years. It is bondage of the worse kind. I had to ask myself some very serious questions about that anger, and how in the world do I get rid of it. I found that I am angry because I have compromised my life. All your life you are told, you have to compromise. It should be a pretty easy deal/negotiation, you give up something you want in order to get something else you want more. Or is it?

According to Wikipedia;

"To compromise is to make a deal where one person gives up part of his or her demand. In arguments, compromise is a concept of finding agreement through communication, through a mutual acceptance of terms—often involving variations from an original goal or desire. Extremism is often considered as antonym to compromise, which, depending on context, may be associated with concepts of balance, tolerance. In the negative connotation, compromise may be referred to as capitulation, referring to a "surrender" of objectives, principles, or material, in the process of negotiating an agreement. In human relationships "compromise" is frequently said to be an agreement that no party is happy with, this is because the parties involved often feel that they either gave away too much or that they received too little."

I had to read that part about human relationships several times before it finally hit home. I have compromised myself to the point I have given up "myself." Not in the healthy manner either, but in a very unhealthy one. I had a dream when I was younger of what I wanted to do with my life. I wanted to be a stay at home wife, and take care of my husband. That was all I wanted out of my life, until one day my father told me that I had to have more out of life. I should WANT more out of life. So I compromised and told him I would go in the Navy, since he was former Navy. The day I went for my physical the doctor told me I was pregnant. My father was not happy to say the least. My life changed that day, or did it change that day or the day I changed and compromised.

I simply gave up that dream I had as a young girl. It did not fit in with the times, even though I was raised to be a wife in the 70's, every where I went and dared to tell someone that dream, they told me that was a silly dream. I should aspire for a career, be my own person, be independent, don't depend on a man for your happiness, and the list goes on and on. I caved, I listened I did what was expected of me, even in my rebellion, I still did as was expected. After all I was my father's daughter and he told me those very same things long ago.

And rebel, yes I did plenty of that. I took marriage and made a sham out of it. I married for many reasons, many times, not out of love, but for other reasons, and rubbed it in society's face. I found the lifestyle and changed the term, husband and wife to master and slave and promised myself I would never compromise myself in that. I simply compromised in what I wanted and changed it to be something else, and hoped that maybe I would be accepted into an unconventional lifestyle. I compromised again, over and over. The anger continued to build. I felt like I failed so many times, giving up my own traditional values of what I believe/d in.

I fell into trap after trap of finding the "wrong" kind of men. Men who wanted me to change me into something I was not, or men who expected me to change because they could not fit into what I needed and they made me feel as if I was the one who was failing, instead of them failing me. They expected me to compromise with nothing in return. I am not saying every single relationship I have been in has been like that, it hasn't, but the majority of them have been. I gave up checklists years ago in what I wanted from a relationship because I got tired of wrestling for my needs/wants/desires. I gave up so many expectations because I got tired of people telling me they were wrong, and I should not expect so much from one mere mortal.

I have been walking on eggshells for years. I have been walking on eggshells of anger, resentment, rage, sadness, and so many other emotions.

I feel at times I have been tricked into accepting less than what I first set out for. And then I wonder why did I compromise myself to the point I am now a mere shell myself. I also have to wonder is it too late to start over? Is it too late to set my sites on what I wanted as a young girl, only tailoring it to my needs as they are today? Is 53 way too late to even start thinking of what I should have done, or what I could do differently? Is love supposed to be that way? Is it supposed to reach the point that you give so much, or compromise so much that you are left with nothing but a shell?

Is it fair for another person to expect that much compromise? Even if love is involved? Does that much compromise in a relationship promote a healthy one, or a recipe for disaster? I am a traditionalist and I have tried to fit in a non-traditional world, maybe it is time I go back to those traditions and live as I feel I was intended. Maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't be so angry anymore. Maybe I could return to feeling as if my shell was filled again. I guess that part is up to me, for I am the one who compromised myself.



Does anyone have a broom? It is time to quit walking on all these eggshells.

Life goes on.....





I dare you......

How much posturing goes on in life, more so in our lifestyle than any other place I have seen. It is like some put on a mask, a cloak and posture all over the place and I have to sit here and wonder why. It seems to be coming out more and more. Or should I say "they" seem to be coming out more and more. No, this is not my cynical take on life, this is my watching, studying and observing people. Coming into contact with self-professed lifestylers. People who supposedly live by those credos. And once again I will put a disclaimer on this*****This is for those that allegedly live by their lifestyle creed.******This is not meant for those that engage in role play online games or are merely players in the lifestyle. This is meant for those who posture themselves all over the place, professing to be someone they are not.




How can you claim to be a slave and profess to give it all up, to surrender heart, mind, body and soul if you run home to your vanilla husband and rule the roost. How can you claim to be a slave/submissive if you only choose to surrender when it is easy, or convenient. How can you claim to be a slave/submissive and have agreed to a power exchange relationship, but yet you don't want to do this or that because it might interfere with your night out with the girls. How can you be a slave if all you want is kinky sex.



How can you claim to be a master if you run home to your vanilla wife, and are henpecked. How can you claim to be a master just because that is the title you put on your checklist, and your life is in a mess. How can you claim to be a master if you secretly and behind closed doors want to be submissive to a woman. How can you claim to be a master if you cannot even control yourself, let alone a slave/submissive. How can you be a master, if you do not "understand" the dynamics. How can you be a master if all you want is kinky sex.



People are cheating themselves, and worse, they are cheating others by posturing. By not being true to who you are, or who you say you are. To stand there and make declarations of living a lifestyle and slamming others for not living that very same way. When it is a sham, a lie, just another form of posturing. How can there possibly be any satisfaction in that. How can anyone build a lasting relationship like that. How can anyone look them self in the mirror each day, and think they are being true to who their claim is to be.



Give to to me straight. I want it right out there, straight and upfront. It does not matter to me what your position is, what your label is, what your preference is but I want it straight. I want to make my own judgements on whether I will like you or not, built on who you are, not who you want me to think you are. I want to be able to decide what purpose it has on my own life, if any at all. I don't think respect is earned, I think respect it is given, by truth, honesty, and by giving it to someone straight.



The Posers out there only cheapen what we call our lifestyle, hurting others and destroying that respect. Why is it so hard to just be yourself. I challenge you all who are reading this to try it for one day, those that are posturing, just be yourself. You might like it! And the others might find that there is one less poser out there to deal with. Perhaps this is our gift in life. To be ourselves so that others can make a conscience decision:



1.The inner sense of what is right or wrong in one's conduct or motives, impelling one toward right action: to follow the dictates of conscience.

2. The complex of ethical and moral principles that controls or inhibits the actions or thoughts of an individual.

3. An inhibiting sense of what is prudent.



Again, this is not meant as anything other than my own needs. I do not care who you are, I only care what you are, in living by the very same principals I live, you are yourself. I am a slave, but does that mean I am any less of a mother, sister, daughter, lover, friend. I am a mother, but does that make me any less of a slave. I can be a bitch at times, but does that make me any less of a slave. It might get me in trouble and I will bear the consequences but it makes me simply me.



Wouldn't it be nicer to just see this, than someone who claimed to be a master and wanted your all but yet did nothing to take that all. Wouldn't it be nicer to see this than a slave who only wanted a collar for that status symbol, and yet did nothing to give her all. At least it would give us the options. At least it would give us a choice. And I can bet that there would be less hurts in our lifestyle. This is supposed to be a lifestyle full of open choices, full of having those needs/wants/desires filled. So come on then, let's live it as it was intended.



Give it to me straight. I am taking it myself. And every day I search, I seek, I question, have I lived up to that integrity, that ole adage , “To thine own self be true…..” For we cannot have truth without change. Self-discovery is a hard road to take. But if we give our life to another at the cost of loosing who we are in the process, we will have a hard time living up to being true to ourselves. But if that other person was untrue to who they are, a vicious circle starts. The snowball effect. So let's just start being true to our own self.

"Chaos is rejecting all you have learned, Chaos is being yourself."

~EMILE CIORAN~

A challenge to yourself. Are you ready to take it?


Life goes on.............


With this ring I thee wed......

Not exactly something you would expect to see on my blog, wedding rings. An interesting topic tho, not weddings, but the representation of what a wedding ring means in comparison to a collar. And I kinda hijacked a thread from Fetlife in regards to, is a wedding ring like a collar? It is interesting to read the many that do not think they are anything alike, and very few think they are alike as far as the commitment goes.

Here is the question I am tossing out there, we are in a style of life that we live every single day, we don't don the collars at whim, nor remove them at whim, (Not in the context of how I live my life.) Nor do we take or give those collars lightly. But how much goes along with those collars being the representation of being, 'owned'?

Vs. marriage.

When you are married you set the limits, the boundaries of what you will deal with and what you will not. You discuss things such as children, monies, property, and the likes. You are entering a contract and that contract is supposed to be, "Til death do us part." You prepare for marriage. You blend two separate worlds into one. The same as you do when you are collared. You had better know your Master before accepting his collar, just as he had better know you also. Because that leads to my second part of this. How much do we give up when becoming collared. That is where marriage and this way of life crosses and people start to question.

People don't have a hard time accepting if you give it all up to your husband, actually it is expected. But if you would do that for the Master, people start to ask why, and how much trust do you have that you would give it 'all' up to a Master. With that question there are tones of not having much trust in the one who owns you and is responsible for you. How can we say that we give up our lives but yet hold our assets into check. Hiding them away in a safe little nest so that JUST IN CASE it doesn't work out, we will have something to fall back on. How can we honestly and openly wear that collar with that in mind. How can we say that we have entered into a Master and slave relationship fully if we are holding back. That would be like saying, "You have my heart, my mind, my soul and flesh, but you can't have any say in "my" personal life!"

So how much trust do you need in a Master/slave relationship? Less or more than a conventional marriage? Or does it really compare. I have witnessed many saying that a Master/slave relationship goes so much deeper than a marriage, but then to say that you can only give so much until you get to know someone better, does not ring true. How can you say someone has full control and full responsibility and hold parts back. I really do not understand this pattern of thinking. You get the collar, you are owned, why in the world would you want to put restrictions on that, limitations on that, or reservations on that. If you do NOT trust him enough, why would you wear his collar in the first place.



Why would you pledge to honor, obey, and trust if you did not take time to get to know him before making that decision. Shouldn't that decision have already been made before slipping that collar around your throat. Kind of like that wedding ring, there has to be established trust already, to share/give your life to another. And going one step further with that type of power exchange of Master/slave, if that isn't there, what are you exchanging. A part-time relationship, which in a TPE has no basis for part-time. That is kind of like being equal partners if you ask me. And not what a Master/slave relationship is all about. I believe that is only playing at the dynamics, perhaps because "you" meaning the collective you wishes for playtime, a status quo symbol, instead of a symbolic meaning. So many collars have turned into ''velcro" these days and the commitment level is not there. One of my biggest pet peeves is when people say, "We will be together as long as it lasts." What happened to forever?



I take the meaning of a collar serious. It means that I am his for life, until he dictates otherwise. That ANYTHING and EVERYTHING in my life is his and he is privy to anything about my life that he wishes to know. That I am not allowed to hold anything back in that. I must be transparent and trust explicitly. Whatever he wishes, is his. That means that I do as he says and do not question unless he allows it. I trust his judgement, I trust his call, I trust each and every thing he does. I trust him, period. I do not have the right to pick and choose what I will "allow" and what I will "not allow". That trust NEEDS to be there, on both sides. He has no right to collar if he cannot accept the responsibilities and accountability's, just as I have no right to bitch and moan if that "collar" does not fit my needs.

I think it is in all how people look at both, whether it be a wedding ring or a collar. Both people have to decide on the level of commitment they are looking for and go for it. One cannot be afraid of marriage, or be afraid of a collar, or be afraid of, "forever" and the other person isn't. Both people need to agree and hold the same beliefs in the meanings or it becomes cheapened in my humble opinion.



With this collar I thee surrender.......



Life goes on.......

Break free of those chains.

"Freedom is living without chains."

~Indra Devi~

Some chains we can live without, and in this instant I mean "without".  It seems like my themes of late have been about "bondage", but bondage of another kind. Not the good kind, but the bad kind. And yes there is a bad kind of bondage. I have been living in it for years and I want to be free. I have been living with the past all wrapped around me, and now it is time for it to go. Do I think it will be that easy, no.

I was thinking tonight about all those chains we allow ourselves to be tangled up in, and how to break free of those chains. For me, I think I will need an axe, or perhaps a welder. Yes they are tight and constrictive, and my quest is how to break free of those chains. How to cut them away til I am free. Free to live life as I want/need. Sometimes those chains come in the form of guilt, and I think that one can be the most confining at times.

I have to ask myself why in the world do people try to make you feel guilty. Because they can I guess. Because we allow them to? Because they are not happy in their own lives? I really don't have the answers but I keep wondering why. And then there are the chains that are engulfing, and seem to take away our breath at times. And then there are the chains that hold us tight and refuse at times to let us budge. We become still wrapped tightly in those chains.

It is time. It is time to try and break free of those chains, and wrap myself in freedom.

Life goes on......



Middle of the Week Musings.

Happy Hump Day.

The middle of the week, a time for me to reflect on what has been going on this past week, a time to get excited for the weekend. I am trying to get excited for the weekend, but the schedules are all messed up and I have to get used to another one. I hate change in some ways. It throws me off balance and takes my structure away. I need more structure in my life, I need more balance in my life. I need more direction in my life. It feels like I am out there floundering around again. And it gives me panic attacks and ulcer attacks.

I have been back in my house for over a year now, and it still needs organized. I worked some on it tonight, and think I should put an ad up on Craigslist:

Free to good home.

A 21 year old Diva complete with boyfriend and a cat, and all kinds of junk stuff.

A 18 year old male with a cat, and all kinds of junk stuff.

All their friends that hang around, sleep on the couch and eat.

I think that pretty much says it all. After all it is all FREE!

I tried to make Diva go through all her clothes that are in the laundry room, and her response, "Well I don't want them all!" Well duh, I could tell that, some of them have been sitting there in baskets since we moved back. So I organized them tonight and told her they were either going in her room, or out the door. Think that will work?

And when I made dinner, spinach raviolis, they all looked at me like I had three heads. Forgive me please, that it did not have meat in it. I think I will tell them I have went Vegan and see their reactions.

I need a vacation. A long over-due vacation. Someplace where the younger generation will not find me.

I need a maid.

I need a new frame of mind I guess.

I wonder what would happen if I put an ad up on Craigslist that said;

HELP!!!!

Life goes on........



Prisoner of my Past.

"I began to feel that, in a sense, we were all prisoners of our own history."

~Roland Joffe~

I am starting to feel like a prisoner of my past. It haunts me almost daily. For those of you who did not follow my past blog, I suffer from PTSD, and at times panic attacks, and slight agoraphobia. "We" named them episodes, and lately they have been assaulting me quite a bit. I have a few ideas why, the number one being that I am in a new relationship and perhaps I feel guilty from the past relationship. It is hard to get closure when the person you were with, dies, but yet you are the one left to carry on, and live life. I know that relationship was not healthy, it did not work as well as I thought it once did, but the point being, it is too late to worry about it anymore. Or it should be. Or I wish it was.

But I am stuck here behind the "bars" of my past. I am trying to break free of those bars, and get out from behind those walls, but each time I try, I feel that I am failing. I hope that it does not affect my current relationship, but I know it is going to from time to time. It has. I am very lucky I have a patient man in my life. I only hope that it continues, I hope he continues to have the patience that I need. He left here earlier today after spending a couple of days together, and this weekend was better than last weekend! Last weekend wasn't real great on my part, I was a bitch as much as I hate to say it, I was. Not intentional, but the bottom line I was. I had a really crappy week last week, and not even sure what happened.

Ever since I have been on a journey to figure out why I am still behind those walls. I have asked myself if I was conditioned or manipulated, or whatever, and all I could come up with, it happened. I may never know the reasons why, I may always have to ask the question, but the bottom line, I need to get out from behind those walls and start living my life again. Being a prisoner is like being a victim and I refuse to be a victim anymore. I chant to myself that I am with "Mister" now, and it is a new and different relationship and if I don't get my life together, there might not be another chance to escape those bars. I have found myself very scared and that is halting a lot of my journey. I don't want to be stuck behind bars anymore.

I have been asking myself why do we do these things to ourselves, but then again, do we, or do we allow others and circumstances to do that to us. I think it is both, that we make choices, and often the wrong choices, and then we are stuck with the consequences. We often take the blame for other people, when we shouldn't. I guess that is a human trait, and something we need to learn not to do. I guess when they say love is blind, often times it is. Or maybe it wasn't love, maybe it was something else, only thinking it was love.

Anyway, I am on a mission to break free of that prison.

Life goes on......

Broken.

"Your reason and your passion are the rudder and the sails of your seafaring soul, if either your sails or your rudder be broken, you can but toss and drift, or else be held at a standstill in mid-seas. For reason, ruling alone, is a force confining; and passion, unattended, is a flame that burns to its own destruction."~Kahlil Gibran~

I had a person ask me today if I thought I was "broken" due to the way I choose to live my life. I had to think about that one for a moment, really think and a quote came to mind. And with that quote I had to think more, for how can you have reason and passion together working as one, but then through that quote, I realized you have to have both to work, one without the other will not work. So yes, I am broken, I have been tossing about for some time now. Not at a standstill, but tossing about, like broken glass, all over the place.

But, before I go any further, I think I have been broken in a different way for many years. I am not of the norm, do I choose to live my life as the "norm". I figured that it must be something in my make-up, deep inside of myself that makes me crave the dynamics of Master/slave. I have tried, "nilla", I have many times in the past, and found that it lacks what I "need". Not what I want, or desire, but what I need. It lacks passion, it lacks the reason I need to keep the passion from burning to destruction. I need a man, I need a Master, I need the dynamics that make me thrive and feel less broken. I have read many posts over the years about how submissives/slaves must be broken due to the nature of who they are, what they need, and how desperate they are.

I can relate, I am that person, I am that slave. I need that direction, I need that dominance, I need that structure, I need those rules and rituals, and that absolute power exchange. I would rather hear, "Good girl." than "Nice job." I read things on blogs, on posts, on Fetlife that talk about, physical aspects" of the lifestyle and how they make or break a slave. I disagree. Physical is a mere piece of the pie so to speak, at least for me. The mind, and the soul is what makes it work, what makes me tick. The mental is what makes me thrive and not flounder out there, or floating about with no direction.

I suffer PTSD, (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) from a previous abusive relationship, vanilla. It had nothing to do with M/s. Another broken crack in my make-up. Many would say that I was not broken beforehand, I would disagree again. Why? Because I was looking for an intense Master/slave relationship, and often that line is indiscernible. The line between abuse and mastery. I don't need someone to "fix" me, not in that way. I don't need someone to try to "heal" me, not in that way. What I need is someone to embrace my nature and nurture it in the ways it needs to be.

I can remember when I was a little girl thinking that I needed to be "married" to be whole. That is what I was groomed for, but even in that, my first marriage happened when I was 18 and it was nothing what I expected it to be. He was not the leader of the house, I wasn't the leader of the house, just two kids playing house. I kept searching for that "relationship" I had imagined in my mind, even though I had no idea what that type of relationship was. I did not come from an abusive home, I came from an average middle-class home. I kept wondering how in the world did I come up with a list of needs that were not "average". I kept searching and searching and having people telling me that there must be something wrong with me.

And now at the age of 53, I know from years of experience, I am broken in so many ways. Without that reason and that passion blended together in harmony, I will become more broken and then I will be floating around out there aimlessly. No direction, no sense of "me" left. And I just got out of that, not too long ago. I am still fighting getting "right" within myself. I suffered in a past relationship, and am trying my damnest not to bring it into the previous one. It has not been easy.

How do I determine which type of "broken" is healthy and which type is not? The type that is healthy for me is the type that gives me direction and makes me thrive. The type that is unhealthy is the type that leaves me out there drifting and tossing about.

So in answer to the question, yes I am broken, both the good and the bad. I need to learn to heal, I need to learn to embrace. I need to learn to trust that I am on the right path at times, and not resist. I need to shake free of those shackles that society has placed on me, and put "HIS" on instead. I have no misguided sense that he can heal me of the bad broken, but I do have expectations that he too will embrace the good broken.

Life goes on......



Middle of the Week Musings.

Happy Hump Day!

Yes, that is a joke! I do NOT hope your hump day is hot as hell, cuz MINE WAS!

It is hot, really hot, and I will be glad when this heat wave passes.

Living in Illinois leaves a lot to be desired at times. You wait all winter for summer, and then it turns to hot, you can't spend time outside. I just came in from outside and it is still hot and muggy out.

And did I forget to mention that it is hot?

I hope it breaks soon. My air conditioning bill is going to be out of this world! And cooking is pretty much out, who wants to start the oven or the stove with the air conditioner already working overtime. I guess I will just have to pretend I am living a life of luxury. I had dinner out, or should say in, take out, in.

 

Life goes on......