In my work there are often emotional releases, as a massage therapist my client will experience a number of things as I work areas of the body that are: neglected, injured, healing. The body will store memories in its tissue. An emergency room for information or feelings we aren’t ready to handle. I’ve not gotten much body work since mom’s passing, in truth I haven’t received much body work period. Partially from fear of getting too close to the breakdown.
Well today it started, I failed a huge test yesterday and am being given a second chance. (Something I hate with such passion. Because honestly I don’t think it’s fair. I should have done well enough the first time around. These thoughts in turn lead to my test anxiety and cause me to fail anyway) That aside, I’m learning a terribly difficult technique and it’s taking every ounce of my brain power to work it. Which is frustrating in itself. I’m GOOD at massage, I’m GOOD at reading people’s bodies, my hands are MADE for this. But I can’t figure this technique out. It makes me feel like a failure, in an already precarious situation. I already feel like I’ve failed.
So about 4 pm my time I was violently ill. Impossibly heavy sweating, nausea, headache, blurry vision, my heart aching. I couldn’t figure it out and was sobbing in the bathroom. My instructor looking to ease my pain reached out with sympathy in regards to my mom passing. It was like someone poked and open wound and dug around a bit. I couldn’t control the tears. After a while I get settled on the outside. My emotions making a whirlwind on the inside.
I get back to the room I’m renting, an influx of messages come in. My sisters brand new, just weeks old puppy died today. At 4 pm. From a snake bite. I’ll let you look up some of the symptoms. I’m still feeling ill, my heart is breaking for my sister and nephew. I just want a real hug, loving arms around me.
The shower seems to be my think tank.
I was speaking with a friend recently and I told him about a moment I experienced. I was floating around on fetlife and came across someone’s journal entry. It was written to her Dom, all powerful, omnipresent, Master. While I read (without judging mind you ) all I could think was.
*I dare you*
I dare someone to come in and change my clothes, because he says so. I dare someone to tell me that I can’t wax my eyebrows or to wax them off. I *hope* you decide that the steak I want isn’t as important as the salad you will order me. I fucking dare you.
And then I laugh, because three short years ago. I begged for it. I pined and whined and pleaded. I was desperate for just that.
But now, I just don’t know. A part of me mourns not having, Daddy/Sir/Mistress. I miss checking in and having rules. I miss serving and my boundaries pushed. I crave pleasing even when I’m wanting. Until it starts to interfere with where I am. Until I start having to compromise my independence.
Is it possible to desire being bound without the chains?
Here I come, I’m currently training for a highly specialized therapy. It’s exciting and difficult and terrible all at once. So it looks like I’ll be flying north for a while. At the end of June I’ll be in Austria. Which is …. well exciting. And I get to sleep in a castle!! I mean finally someone realized its where i need to be. Lol
My desire has turned into a slow burn, I can remember being explosive all the time. Willing, ready, right now. I had a constant ache between my legs, in my breasts. My sex ready for most people, anyone willing to give me a shot.
But now. Now, the fireworks come when I know someone. When I can not only pronounce a last name but have it saved correctly in my contacts. My desire spreads softly, the slow opening of something sacred and priceless. A long path traveled because you know just the journey is worth it.
What’s more is, I have to continue reminding myself. Not only is my value in the intimacy I share, it’s in the love I give my partners. The nurturing, soul healing, electric kiss of our skin meeting for the first time. Or the fifth. Or the twentith.
It’s in my essence dripping from probing digits. My teeth sliding against swollen, wet, plump flesh. The small smile that only my lovers know. The one that is different for each person. The moment my body opens to receive whatever they share with me. A tongue, finger, the erect firmness of a man I adore. The total transference of myself in a single touch. How each time I let someone into my body it changes my energy forever.
Because now we are affected. Now our cells know one another on a level we can never understand. For the rest of this journey on Earth, I will know you. I will have mapped your skin with my fingertips. I will have cared for you in those moments and if we are lucky, my love will have entered you and yours will have entered me. Even if we are cosmos a thousand years from now, the memory of the passion we share will have touched the very heart of you.
As in there has got to be something the fuck wrong with me. I don’t want to person anymore.
This moment is the lowest I’ve been in a very long time. Since a while before mom died. I’d be struggling with my image, with my value. With being constantly compared to someone I value and found not as worthy. Not as talented. Or beautiful. Or thin. And why, for fucks sake why do I care so very much. Why does it fucking ruin me?
Why do i even care?
I feel like I’ve made a mistake buying this business. I should have just moved away.
Still achieving things on the list!!!
I brought my nephew to Destin for his birthday, which is actually tomorrow. (I can’t believe he is already 3) Without realizing it I completed some things on my list.
I was a total tourist here, it’s my first trip back as an adult. We totally did some exploring.
I got to take a ride on a pirate ship. Oh yeah!
I didn’t float in a swimming pool, BUT I did float in the ocean. 🙂 it was incredible and I’m so incredibly sunburnt.
And just for teasing measure.