Posts
http://www.reverb10.com/the-prompts/
December 10 – Wisdom. What was the wisest decision you made this year, and how did it play out?
The long version of events can be found here: http://kinkforimp.blogspot.com/2010/06/integrity.html
But the short version is that, back in June, my beloved husband made himself seriously ill and did himself a mischief, not through misfortune but through willful and reckless lack of care; of himself, his health, and of my devotion to him.
For the first time in our relationship I took a radically different approach, and left him to deal with the repercussions. He was never, at any point, in real danger, but instead of making it easier and more comfortable for him, I withheld my help and support. It was one of the hardest things I've ever done, one of the most necessary, and the wisest.
Since then, he has taken a considerably different approach to his healthcare. We have both worked on decreasing his dependence on me, and at the very least, trying to ensure his laziness and carelessness don't impact me unduly. It is possible to love someone very much, and find them exasperating. I love ALL of him, and don't need or want him to change. However, enabling his poor behaviour wasn't doing either of us any good. Putting into practice the adage 'the only person's behaviour you have control over, is your own', was extraordinarily difficult, but extraordinarily overdue.
Friday 31 December 2010
www.reverb10.com/the-prompts/
December 9 – Party. What social gathering rocked your socks off in 2010? Describe the people, music, food, drink, clothes, shenanigans.
This was a really hard question to answer. Have I been to any parties? I'm not sure as that I have. I've had days and nights out a plenty - pubs, clubs, munches, picnics, barbecues, bonfires, dinner parties and a ball. There's no single event that stands head and shoulders above the others. I've probably had the most fun, just a few days ago with my poly family gathered around me to celebrate christmas. Thoughtfulness, love, care, support, and good humour was evident in everything, from the gifts exchanged to the activities, the story reading and the hysterical screaming 'I'm on fire, I'm on fire, oh my GOD!' which issued from the kitchen.
I would say that the Debutante Ball to celebrate my friend Jessica Coming Out as a cross-dresser and general purpose pervert, was pretty spectacular. There were dozens of people came to show their goodwill, bringing food, drink, and dressed up to the nines, drinking champagne under a canopy in a huge garden, while we listened to speeches, and later, our very own West End professional singer, followed by increasingly drunken karaoke. I was not on good form due to an upsetting incident early that morning, which will be known only as PorridgeGate. Setting that aside, it was a wondrous event. I was nearly in tears - in a good way - with appreciation of just how much effort went into making the day as perfect as it could possibly be, from so many people wishing Jessica well.
The moments I remember are watching him, and his adorable fiance, roll on the grass, wrestling and giggling with puppyish abandon. The kittens belonging to our host, crept out from behind tables to watch. One of them let me pick her up for a cuddle. It was so hot I carried glasses of ice water to all the hard workers, putting up the marquee and setting out the tables and chairs.
Later, when I came back for the party, Jessica was transformed, manifesting that inner glow which fills the person who is comfortable in their own skin. She was radiant, and blonde, and her white dress enhanced the bloom of a young woman on the edge of innocence, just beginning to take her own steps in the world. She had come so far, and my heart filled with such pride I almost couldn't bear it. Her fiance in her incarnation as Master Bez, looked like masculine perfection in miniature, oozing a lusty and piratical sexuality which would become stronger during the course of the evening, under the influence of strong drink.
I loved that people had brought food and drink to contribute, there was a powerful sense of community, of group identity. I have a very strong memory of a very drunken friend, dancing merrily to the karaoke in her steampunk corset and many layered skirt. If anyone could have called the Sidhe back from Faerieland that night, it was she.
December 9 – Party. What social gathering rocked your socks off in 2010? Describe the people, music, food, drink, clothes, shenanigans.
This was a really hard question to answer. Have I been to any parties? I'm not sure as that I have. I've had days and nights out a plenty - pubs, clubs, munches, picnics, barbecues, bonfires, dinner parties and a ball. There's no single event that stands head and shoulders above the others. I've probably had the most fun, just a few days ago with my poly family gathered around me to celebrate christmas. Thoughtfulness, love, care, support, and good humour was evident in everything, from the gifts exchanged to the activities, the story reading and the hysterical screaming 'I'm on fire, I'm on fire, oh my GOD!' which issued from the kitchen.
I would say that the Debutante Ball to celebrate my friend Jessica Coming Out as a cross-dresser and general purpose pervert, was pretty spectacular. There were dozens of people came to show their goodwill, bringing food, drink, and dressed up to the nines, drinking champagne under a canopy in a huge garden, while we listened to speeches, and later, our very own West End professional singer, followed by increasingly drunken karaoke. I was not on good form due to an upsetting incident early that morning, which will be known only as PorridgeGate. Setting that aside, it was a wondrous event. I was nearly in tears - in a good way - with appreciation of just how much effort went into making the day as perfect as it could possibly be, from so many people wishing Jessica well.
The moments I remember are watching him, and his adorable fiance, roll on the grass, wrestling and giggling with puppyish abandon. The kittens belonging to our host, crept out from behind tables to watch. One of them let me pick her up for a cuddle. It was so hot I carried glasses of ice water to all the hard workers, putting up the marquee and setting out the tables and chairs.
Later, when I came back for the party, Jessica was transformed, manifesting that inner glow which fills the person who is comfortable in their own skin. She was radiant, and blonde, and her white dress enhanced the bloom of a young woman on the edge of innocence, just beginning to take her own steps in the world. She had come so far, and my heart filled with such pride I almost couldn't bear it. Her fiance in her incarnation as Master Bez, looked like masculine perfection in miniature, oozing a lusty and piratical sexuality which would become stronger during the course of the evening, under the influence of strong drink.
I loved that people had brought food and drink to contribute, there was a powerful sense of community, of group identity. I have a very strong memory of a very drunken friend, dancing merrily to the karaoke in her steampunk corset and many layered skirt. If anyone could have called the Sidhe back from Faerieland that night, it was she.
Sunday 26 December 2010
Beautifully Different
http://www.reverb10.com/the-prompts/
December 8 – Beautifully Different. Think about what makes you different and what you do that lights people up. Reflect on all the things that make you different – you’ll find they’re what make you beautiful.
Christ - what about me ISN'T different? I'm not sure how much of it makes me beautiful though! I've always been distinctively unusual, freakish, weird, odd, peculiar...take your pick.
I spent a lot of time when I was young, at school, trying to copy what other people were doing, work out how to just 'blend in'. It really didn't work though, because every now and then, I would just do something considered quite thoroughly odd, and my disguise would fall away, leaving me exposed to ridicule.
That's because kids are little shits though, and by the time I turned fourteen, I'd embraced my inner wierdo. There was a sense of 'might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb'. If people were always going to bust me as a freak, no matter how I tried to hide it, I might as well not bother to hide it and just really fucking go for it. It was a profound shift in thinking towards 'yes, that's right, I am. And your point is?'
And bizarrely, I find most people are drawn to it. It really does light me up - perhaps because I've accepted and welcomed who and what I am. I am so utterly, unashamedly odd, so brazen about my strangeness, that it seems to compel people to look closer. My hair, the way I speak, my singing voice, my dress sense, the strange little stories I tell, my approach to life, not to mention my sexual proclivities...sometimes complete strangers get so fascinated they start asking me the most outrageously personal questions, almost as if, by stepping outside what's considered normal, I've put myself in the public domain. Quite often people will just touch my hair and start looking at it, even if I've never exchanged a word with them!
Sometimes I do get a little sad that I can't just be normal - I'm not, and never will be, a 'joiner'. I will always be on the outside of any group activities, feeling resentful and irritated. And some people find my strangeness repellant, and a little frightening.
But mostly, if my differences don't make me beautiful, they make me what I am. And I value them for that.
December 8 – Beautifully Different. Think about what makes you different and what you do that lights people up. Reflect on all the things that make you different – you’ll find they’re what make you beautiful.
Christ - what about me ISN'T different? I'm not sure how much of it makes me beautiful though! I've always been distinctively unusual, freakish, weird, odd, peculiar...take your pick.
I spent a lot of time when I was young, at school, trying to copy what other people were doing, work out how to just 'blend in'. It really didn't work though, because every now and then, I would just do something considered quite thoroughly odd, and my disguise would fall away, leaving me exposed to ridicule.
That's because kids are little shits though, and by the time I turned fourteen, I'd embraced my inner wierdo. There was a sense of 'might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb'. If people were always going to bust me as a freak, no matter how I tried to hide it, I might as well not bother to hide it and just really fucking go for it. It was a profound shift in thinking towards 'yes, that's right, I am. And your point is?'
And bizarrely, I find most people are drawn to it. It really does light me up - perhaps because I've accepted and welcomed who and what I am. I am so utterly, unashamedly odd, so brazen about my strangeness, that it seems to compel people to look closer. My hair, the way I speak, my singing voice, my dress sense, the strange little stories I tell, my approach to life, not to mention my sexual proclivities...sometimes complete strangers get so fascinated they start asking me the most outrageously personal questions, almost as if, by stepping outside what's considered normal, I've put myself in the public domain. Quite often people will just touch my hair and start looking at it, even if I've never exchanged a word with them!
Sometimes I do get a little sad that I can't just be normal - I'm not, and never will be, a 'joiner'. I will always be on the outside of any group activities, feeling resentful and irritated. And some people find my strangeness repellant, and a little frightening.
But mostly, if my differences don't make me beautiful, they make me what I am. And I value them for that.
Friday 24 December 2010
Community
www.reverb10.com/the-promptsb
December 7 – Community. Where have you discovered community, online or otherwise, in 2010? What community would you like to join, create or more deeply connect with in 2011?
Without a single doubt, it has been the kink community, both online, through Informed Consent and Fetlife, and the support network of friends I've made through these and the 'in person' continuation of that. I've now got a group of people so solid, so strong, that I can go to them with anything, worries about my kink, my husband, my boyfriend, my other friends, my job, house, cats, anything and everything.
It's through these people, that I've begun the ongoing and neverending process of defining my own kink. What makes me hot, what does not. I've also been able to manifest my kink through first, the wrong people, then, the right people. And frame the experiences I've had, give them context. It's made me more 'okay with my kink'. There's no question that I needed the community to help me do that.
December 7 – Community. Where have you discovered community, online or otherwise, in 2010? What community would you like to join, create or more deeply connect with in 2011?
Without a single doubt, it has been the kink community, both online, through Informed Consent and Fetlife, and the support network of friends I've made through these and the 'in person' continuation of that. I've now got a group of people so solid, so strong, that I can go to them with anything, worries about my kink, my husband, my boyfriend, my other friends, my job, house, cats, anything and everything.
It's through these people, that I've begun the ongoing and neverending process of defining my own kink. What makes me hot, what does not. I've also been able to manifest my kink through first, the wrong people, then, the right people. And frame the experiences I've had, give them context. It's made me more 'okay with my kink'. There's no question that I needed the community to help me do that.
Tuesday 21 December 2010
Make
www.reverb10.com/the-prompts/
December 6 – Make. What was the last thing you made? What materials did you use? Is there something you want to make, but you need to clear some time for it?
The last thing I made, was a christmas present for my husband. It was a painting, not at all in my usual style, but trying my best to do 'representational art' of a shared little story we created together. It is soft and sweet and loving and, I hope, he will think it's fantastic. I really can't draw or paint in that way, but it's less of a 'look how talented I am, isn't this good?' thing, than a 'I worked really hard on this and even though I'm not very good at this, I'm pleased with the results because I know you'll like how hard I tried to make something for you' thing.
I've painted for quite a long time, abstracts in mixed media usually, increasingly three dimensional, tactile, and multi-sensory. They are usually quite textural and sometimes scented - although not always. It's not been until the last year that I've had the courage to show my work, or give them away as gifts; despite having been asked to make custom work specifically for friends before, I didn't really believe that anyone would value it that highly.
For the first time this year I put a higher value on my work - and it's currently on exhibit at the Caroline of Brunswick in Brighton. Which makes me happy and proud :-)
littleimppainting.fotopic.net/c1906175.h
December 6 – Make. What was the last thing you made? What materials did you use? Is there something you want to make, but you need to clear some time for it?
The last thing I made, was a christmas present for my husband. It was a painting, not at all in my usual style, but trying my best to do 'representational art' of a shared little story we created together. It is soft and sweet and loving and, I hope, he will think it's fantastic. I really can't draw or paint in that way, but it's less of a 'look how talented I am, isn't this good?' thing, than a 'I worked really hard on this and even though I'm not very good at this, I'm pleased with the results because I know you'll like how hard I tried to make something for you' thing.
I've painted for quite a long time, abstracts in mixed media usually, increasingly three dimensional, tactile, and multi-sensory. They are usually quite textural and sometimes scented - although not always. It's not been until the last year that I've had the courage to show my work, or give them away as gifts; despite having been asked to make custom work specifically for friends before, I didn't really believe that anyone would value it that highly.
For the first time this year I put a higher value on my work - and it's currently on exhibit at the Caroline of Brunswick in Brighton. Which makes me happy and proud :-)
littleimppainting.fotopic.net/c1906175.h
Thursday 16 December 2010
Let Go
www.reverb10.com/the-prompts/
December 5 – Let Go. What (or whom) did you let go of this year? Why?
I let go of the last semblance of a normal sexuality, this year. Why? Because I had to.
I couldn't, now, go back to how I was before. I was 100% faithful and monogamous to my much loved husband and partner of 15 years. But I was unfufilled sexually, because I, ladies and gentlemen, am a pervert. Unless someone's smashing me around the place, or violating me in horrible and tawdry ways, or delivering obscene quantities of pain, I'm simply not going to get my rocks off.
Don't get me wrong - I like sex. I LOVE sex. I can enjoy sex, loving, gentle, sensual sex, without a BDSM element. But it won't set off fireworks in my brain. And by that I don't mean simply cumming. I can spend 4 minutes with a magic wand and do THAT. I mean the white hot radiating sense of utter RIGHTNESS that follows in the wake of pain, and submission.
I am in the incredibly fortunate and privileged position of being married, yet free to seek sexual fulfilment outside my marriage, in close and loving relationships, with the full support, understanding, and generous permission, of my husband. Blanket consent, no limits, but a don't ask don't tell policy in the details.
Christmas last year was a bad time for me, and our marriage. I started to wonder whether this poly business was ever going to work out for me, or us. Whether I would have to try and find the way of living without the joy that my newfound sexuality brought me.
Instead, I now find myself within the tight-knit security of an extended poly family, who have brought such comfort, love, pleasure, kindness, support, and open hearted generosity into my life, I at times feel quite overwhelmed, and always grateful.
Ready or not, things pass into our lives, and then leave. You can't always control when this will happen - the only thing you can guarantee, is that change WILL come. I would never have sought this change, I didn't anticipate it, and yet when it came, and I had to let go of being a monogamous, faithful, wife - it was one of the most right decisions I have ever made.
December 5 – Let Go. What (or whom) did you let go of this year? Why?
I let go of the last semblance of a normal sexuality, this year. Why? Because I had to.
I couldn't, now, go back to how I was before. I was 100% faithful and monogamous to my much loved husband and partner of 15 years. But I was unfufilled sexually, because I, ladies and gentlemen, am a pervert. Unless someone's smashing me around the place, or violating me in horrible and tawdry ways, or delivering obscene quantities of pain, I'm simply not going to get my rocks off.
Don't get me wrong - I like sex. I LOVE sex. I can enjoy sex, loving, gentle, sensual sex, without a BDSM element. But it won't set off fireworks in my brain. And by that I don't mean simply cumming. I can spend 4 minutes with a magic wand and do THAT. I mean the white hot radiating sense of utter RIGHTNESS that follows in the wake of pain, and submission.
I am in the incredibly fortunate and privileged position of being married, yet free to seek sexual fulfilment outside my marriage, in close and loving relationships, with the full support, understanding, and generous permission, of my husband. Blanket consent, no limits, but a don't ask don't tell policy in the details.
Christmas last year was a bad time for me, and our marriage. I started to wonder whether this poly business was ever going to work out for me, or us. Whether I would have to try and find the way of living without the joy that my newfound sexuality brought me.
Instead, I now find myself within the tight-knit security of an extended poly family, who have brought such comfort, love, pleasure, kindness, support, and open hearted generosity into my life, I at times feel quite overwhelmed, and always grateful.
Ready or not, things pass into our lives, and then leave. You can't always control when this will happen - the only thing you can guarantee, is that change WILL come. I would never have sought this change, I didn't anticipate it, and yet when it came, and I had to let go of being a monogamous, faithful, wife - it was one of the most right decisions I have ever made.
Wonder
December 4 – Wonder. How did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year?
cultivate |ˈkəltəˌvāt|
verb [ trans. ]
2 try to acquire or develop (a quality, sentiment, or skill) : he cultivated an air of indifference.
• try to win the friendship or favor of (someone) : it helps if you go out of your way to cultivate the local people.
• [usu. as adj. ] ( cultivated) apply oneself to improving or developing (one's mind or manners) : he was a remarkably cultivated and educated man.
Strictly speaking then - I haven't. Rather, I have had a sense of wonder grow, unaided, within me, this year. It has been thrust upon me, without intent or effort.
I have watched, amazed, while people close to me behaved, thought, spoke, felt, in wondrous ways.
An example: a close friend got 'outed'. Instead of withdrawing from the rural farming community he lives in, ashamed and embarrassed, he made a deliberate choice to nurture his sense of pride and embrace his identity. He told people, 'If you choose to judge me, that is your prerogative. If you choose to laugh at me, again your prerogative, but I may judge you for doing so'. He understood that the only person's behaviour you can control, is your own. Which he did, with extraordinary dignity, and in so doing, filled me with a sense of wonder, and delight, that I hold the honour of considering him a friend.
verb [ trans. ]
2 try to acquire or develop (a quality, sentiment, or skill) : he cultivated an air of indifference.
• try to win the friendship or favor of (someone) : it helps if you go out of your way to cultivate the local people.
• [usu. as adj. ] ( cultivated) apply oneself to improving or developing (one's mind or manners) : he was a remarkably cultivated and educated man.
Strictly speaking then - I haven't. Rather, I have had a sense of wonder grow, unaided, within me, this year. It has been thrust upon me, without intent or effort.
I have watched, amazed, while people close to me behaved, thought, spoke, felt, in wondrous ways.
An example: a close friend got 'outed'. Instead of withdrawing from the rural farming community he lives in, ashamed and embarrassed, he made a deliberate choice to nurture his sense of pride and embrace his identity. He told people, 'If you choose to judge me, that is your prerogative. If you choose to laugh at me, again your prerogative, but I may judge you for doing so'. He understood that the only person's behaviour you can control, is your own. Which he did, with extraordinary dignity, and in so doing, filled me with a sense of wonder, and delight, that I hold the honour of considering him a friend.
Tuesday 7 December 2010
Moment
www.reverb10.com/the-prompts/
December 3 – Moment. Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors). (Author: Ali Edwards)
There are so very many precious and shining moments this year, that I keep nestled close to my heart, that choosing the one where I felt most alive is impossible. This then, is merely the first one that came into my mind, when thinking about the question.
When I first met my dominant partner, I was like a badly beaten rescue dog - coming to a kind hand, but fearing a blow. Eventually he coaxed me closer and closer, until I started coming to him of my own accord.
I set out so many limits and boundaries, which he encouraged me to do - recognising that unless I felt safe, I would never open to him at all. Acknowledging that I had the right to do so, could and should do so. Gradually as my trust grew, I was able to let down my boundaries, and dissolve my limits, one by one.
We had been in the club, and it took time for us to make our own headspace together, and ignore the talking around us, block out the laughter and other people. Then - bang - he was there, and he took me with him. I was suddenly getting fucked over, he was smashing me with his hands, the world disappeared: he was totally and utterly focused on me, and only me. And I, him.
I screamed into his face, spitting, angry, scratching, and he was sweat oiled muscled rage made manifest. I made him work for it, and he took me down, down with him into the dark, with growls and snarls and violence and rage.
Afterwards, as he wrapped me up, warm and safe in his arms, I told him for the first time that I loved him. He told me, later, that I was a goddess for him, in the club, perfect. Violent and perfect. I was his hard-won prize, his woman - his.
As he drove me home, he slid his fingers inside my messy pussy, warm and wet. He made me cry out for him, never mind the danger of the car just de-railing itself right there and then. He pulled off into a layby, pushed me down into the seat of the car, and chose to get his scent on me and his seed on me. He had beaten me bruised and now he would mark me again - because he could.
He shoved his jeans down, and tossed himself off into my mouth, holding me down on the seat, forcing my mouth open with his fingers. He made me lick his balls while he jerked off into my open mouth, and then forced me to drink his cum - all of it.
I experienced the complete and utter bliss of being made to drink his cum, as he emptied himself into me, emptied everything he had, and I adored it. I loved every moment of it, I loved the taste of him, I loved being made to do it, and I loved the quiet words of adoration that he whispered afterwards, words he wouldn't even remember later, through a haze of brain white-out and bliss of his own. That moment, by itself, was worth living for.
December 3 – Moment. Pick one moment during which you felt most alive this year. Describe it in vivid detail (texture, smells, voices, noises, colors). (Author: Ali Edwards)
There are so very many precious and shining moments this year, that I keep nestled close to my heart, that choosing the one where I felt most alive is impossible. This then, is merely the first one that came into my mind, when thinking about the question.
When I first met my dominant partner, I was like a badly beaten rescue dog - coming to a kind hand, but fearing a blow. Eventually he coaxed me closer and closer, until I started coming to him of my own accord.
I set out so many limits and boundaries, which he encouraged me to do - recognising that unless I felt safe, I would never open to him at all. Acknowledging that I had the right to do so, could and should do so. Gradually as my trust grew, I was able to let down my boundaries, and dissolve my limits, one by one.
We had been in the club, and it took time for us to make our own headspace together, and ignore the talking around us, block out the laughter and other people. Then - bang - he was there, and he took me with him. I was suddenly getting fucked over, he was smashing me with his hands, the world disappeared: he was totally and utterly focused on me, and only me. And I, him.
I screamed into his face, spitting, angry, scratching, and he was sweat oiled muscled rage made manifest. I made him work for it, and he took me down, down with him into the dark, with growls and snarls and violence and rage.
Afterwards, as he wrapped me up, warm and safe in his arms, I told him for the first time that I loved him. He told me, later, that I was a goddess for him, in the club, perfect. Violent and perfect. I was his hard-won prize, his woman - his.
As he drove me home, he slid his fingers inside my messy pussy, warm and wet. He made me cry out for him, never mind the danger of the car just de-railing itself right there and then. He pulled off into a layby, pushed me down into the seat of the car, and chose to get his scent on me and his seed on me. He had beaten me bruised and now he would mark me again - because he could.
He shoved his jeans down, and tossed himself off into my mouth, holding me down on the seat, forcing my mouth open with his fingers. He made me lick his balls while he jerked off into my open mouth, and then forced me to drink his cum - all of it.
I experienced the complete and utter bliss of being made to drink his cum, as he emptied himself into me, emptied everything he had, and I adored it. I loved every moment of it, I loved the taste of him, I loved being made to do it, and I loved the quiet words of adoration that he whispered afterwards, words he wouldn't even remember later, through a haze of brain white-out and bliss of his own. That moment, by itself, was worth living for.
Writing
December 2 – Writing. What do you do each day that doesn’t contribute to your writing — and can you eliminate it? (Author: Leo Babauta)
I spend enough time doing things that I *have* to do. With work, housework, mundane tasks, there's plenty in my life that I need to get done, even when I don't feel like doing it. More and more recently, I've come to value the times when I can just do, what I feel like doing, when I feel like it.
I never write because I should do, or have to. I'm not a professional author with deadlines to meet. Which means that I have the luxury of letting passion to create, carry me away, as and when it happens, rather than forcing it. And even if I WAS a professional writer, why on earth would I want to eliminate all the pleasures in my life? If I did nothing other than write, I would have nothing to write ABOUT - no inspiration, no richness of experience to bring to my words.
Monday 6 December 2010
One Word
I'm a little late to the party....but...
http://www.reverb10.com/the-prompts/
December 1 – One Word. Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word. Explain why you're choosing that word. Now, imagine it's one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you? (Author: Gwen Bell)
Growth.
Everything in my world - EVERYTHING - has grown and blossomed this year.
Implicit in growth, is restoration and repair. Around this time last year I was in a bad place. Here's a little story - one which I need to tell - which is just a small example but a good one.
Last year, I was in an abusive relationship. I had my husband (R) to love and hold and squeeze me, and I was also in a relationship with two people who assured me of their loving care, that they would protect me and keep me safe, and enjoyed my increasing dependency on them. I was encouraged to lean on them, for support, and help. And I needed quite a lot of support and help. R was ill, I was struggling to come to terms with the direction all my relationships were taking. The abuse was mostly emotional, sometimes subtle, confusing, and utterly cruel.
One play date fell just as I was about to go on holiday. R was happy for me to play on the condition that no marks would show when I was in my bikini. So I set out specific boundaries for this occasion. It was a clear agreement, clearly communicated and understood.
They beat me, and went too far. One person held my breasts, while the other, hit them. The resulting deep tissue bruises were clearly visible over the top of my bikini, and through thin clothing. They took six weeks to show significant signs of healing, and it was months before the skin was completely clear. I slathered on arnica cream day and night, but still the bruises stayed - black and huge. R was angry with me, he felt it showed no respect for him, and he was right. He was repulsed by my naked body, and I took pains to hide it as much as I could. Sex ended in spectacular failure when I took my top off.
The worst thing though - was that I defended them. I tried to laugh it off, even showed my friends the bruises, seeking confirmation that for a dominant, getting carried away and going too far, was normal. I defended them to R. The person who hit me, gloated, boasting about it and telling me how aroused it made them, how they enjoyed it and felt pride in it.
I wasn't able to tell anyone how unhappy, how betrayed I felt. I couldn't even admit it to myself.
When that relationship ended, spectacularly, as could have been predicted - I was so lost, so alone. Over the last year, I've healed, and flowered beyond my expectations. I've come into my power, as a person, as a woman.
The mind heals, but the body remembers. It doesn't make me upset to talk about these things, but when someone beats my breasts, I instantly start to sob. At a play party a few weeks ago, with the Ladies Who Play (an all female space where we can enjoy casual, playful BDSM), I had an extended beating on the breasts, and a hard session with three gorgeous women. The moment I was hit in that place, I immediately began crying, a grief stricken outpouring that I couldn't hold back. The body remembers.
I pushed through, and received the pain, which on my breasts was given mostly by my very old and beloved friend. It was cathartic in the extreme, and afterwards, as I was held and stroked and calmed by women, telling what had happened to me, I felt something deep, deep inside me, relax.
And now, when I'm hit there, in that place which was once such a hotline to my tears, it is the same as when I am hit anywhere else on my body, in mutual pleasure and excitement. And reassurances and support will be given, and it will be done with affection and respect, not motivated by spite and vicious cruelty.
In this small way, among many, many other ways, I am healed.
If I hope anything for next year, it is that I consolidate the things that I have learned, the new relationships I have built, the old ones that are flourishing, and the growth I have felt within me this year.
http://www.reverb10.com/the-prompts/
December 1 – One Word. Encapsulate the year 2010 in one word. Explain why you're choosing that word. Now, imagine it's one year from today, what would you like the word to be that captures 2011 for you? (Author: Gwen Bell)
Growth.
Everything in my world - EVERYTHING - has grown and blossomed this year.
Implicit in growth, is restoration and repair. Around this time last year I was in a bad place. Here's a little story - one which I need to tell - which is just a small example but a good one.
Last year, I was in an abusive relationship. I had my husband (R) to love and hold and squeeze me, and I was also in a relationship with two people who assured me of their loving care, that they would protect me and keep me safe, and enjoyed my increasing dependency on them. I was encouraged to lean on them, for support, and help. And I needed quite a lot of support and help. R was ill, I was struggling to come to terms with the direction all my relationships were taking. The abuse was mostly emotional, sometimes subtle, confusing, and utterly cruel.
One play date fell just as I was about to go on holiday. R was happy for me to play on the condition that no marks would show when I was in my bikini. So I set out specific boundaries for this occasion. It was a clear agreement, clearly communicated and understood.
They beat me, and went too far. One person held my breasts, while the other, hit them. The resulting deep tissue bruises were clearly visible over the top of my bikini, and through thin clothing. They took six weeks to show significant signs of healing, and it was months before the skin was completely clear. I slathered on arnica cream day and night, but still the bruises stayed - black and huge. R was angry with me, he felt it showed no respect for him, and he was right. He was repulsed by my naked body, and I took pains to hide it as much as I could. Sex ended in spectacular failure when I took my top off.
The worst thing though - was that I defended them. I tried to laugh it off, even showed my friends the bruises, seeking confirmation that for a dominant, getting carried away and going too far, was normal. I defended them to R. The person who hit me, gloated, boasting about it and telling me how aroused it made them, how they enjoyed it and felt pride in it.
I wasn't able to tell anyone how unhappy, how betrayed I felt. I couldn't even admit it to myself.
When that relationship ended, spectacularly, as could have been predicted - I was so lost, so alone. Over the last year, I've healed, and flowered beyond my expectations. I've come into my power, as a person, as a woman.
The mind heals, but the body remembers. It doesn't make me upset to talk about these things, but when someone beats my breasts, I instantly start to sob. At a play party a few weeks ago, with the Ladies Who Play (an all female space where we can enjoy casual, playful BDSM), I had an extended beating on the breasts, and a hard session with three gorgeous women. The moment I was hit in that place, I immediately began crying, a grief stricken outpouring that I couldn't hold back. The body remembers.
I pushed through, and received the pain, which on my breasts was given mostly by my very old and beloved friend. It was cathartic in the extreme, and afterwards, as I was held and stroked and calmed by women, telling what had happened to me, I felt something deep, deep inside me, relax.
And now, when I'm hit there, in that place which was once such a hotline to my tears, it is the same as when I am hit anywhere else on my body, in mutual pleasure and excitement. And reassurances and support will be given, and it will be done with affection and respect, not motivated by spite and vicious cruelty.
In this small way, among many, many other ways, I am healed.
If I hope anything for next year, it is that I consolidate the things that I have learned, the new relationships I have built, the old ones that are flourishing, and the growth I have felt within me this year.
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