Days like today

I feel almost as if I’ve grown out of S & M. Even though I’m surrounded by people I love who participate in it. I don’t feel like watching it, thinking about it, participating in it.

I suppose because S & M and D/s have always been so closely linked for me. In my heart I feel like I can’t have one without the other. That the proper guidance of a D relationship is what I need to lead me through the S & M of it all.

I feel bereft at the moment. Lost and so so alone. I feel as if this space isn’t mine any more. Like it hasn’t been for a very long while.

On those terms I think, it’s time I walk away from this little haven. I’ve loved all parts of growing with you these last few years. I hope sincerely that they joy you want fills the valleys you have. I hope you know I’ve loved being here.

All my love.

Days like today

Recently on Tumblr ….

I’ve been tossed into an emotional pit, every time I fall into it I think, this is the last time. Clearly last time wasn’t nor will it ever be the “last time”. I’m finding the climb out more difficult when ever it happens. I keep wondering if it’s still part of my mourning process. If life is just harder than I expected. If I’m just not cut out for the process of it all. I find it very exhausting.

I find friendships difficult to maintain. They trouble me, wear me down. My relationship feels heavy around my neck and all I can imagine is, well not great things. I feel cast away. Set aside. And wonder, have I done this to myself?

In moments like this one, I’d like to lay day down and never wake up. The act of breathing is too much. My heart is too heavy. It pins me to the floor.

“I’m tired.” Doesn’t quite seem to cover the expanse of brain smoothing detachment I feel. Why is my cry for help silent? Why is it silent until I’m on the brink of quitting everything?

On Tumblr a few days ago I posted,
don’t be afraid to release what no longer serves you. It’s terrifying to look at your life and realize, nothing in it serves you.

Recently on Tumblr ….

Monthly update

With some amusement I notice, that I’ve been posting only once a month or so. Things are strange here in relationship land. Maybe making bullet points will help me get my information together.

● The D/s we are in does not feel very D/s to me, I’ve been thinking on this rather extensively. It’s actually not D/s at all. I don’t feel in anyway that I am submissive. On the bimonthly occasion that we are at a play party I feel like one of his regular bottoms. Not in any way that we have a power exchange.

● I also don’t feel that I’m a very good bottom for him. Our play feels hollow to me. I think in part because there is no power exchange.

●I don’t enjoy “bottoming” I crave to submit and I don’t feel like I can do that to someone who isn’t my Dominant. Bottoming, for me, feels like a facade.

● I’ve recently questioned literally all of the things I’ve thought were my kinks. Making this list is shedding light on a primary issue. M is a sadist, pure and true. I don’t hurt for people I’m not the little “s” for. If I’m being hurt for pleasure during sex, and there is no D/s, I feel violated. Not stimulated.

● My sex life is a barren field. Because of the faulty workings of our attempted D/s I’m shutting down.

● I’m starting to shut down everywhere actually.

● I don’t know how to have this conversation.

Monthly update

The tale of a little goddess

Long ago, before you and I were ever ephemerally formed for this ecstatic ride, there was a great storm. It flooded the Earth and was destroying all life forms, animals, people, and plants alike. The gods, sitting high and mighty grew very concerned, when after some time the storm had not ceased! It continued to grow and destroy, threatening our very own Mother Earth. Her bones growing weary under the weight of the vicious storms pressure. Legend has it that in the peak of this storm a goddess was born. With her birth the storm ceased and we were once again able to flourish on our lands. Her name is Bagalamukhi.

I am very blessed in my profession, people of all walks of life come to me. We share so much. Our sorrows and joys, I guide them through the sometimes lifelong chronic pain of this life experience. On multiple occasions I have been by their side, hands on as this life journey has ended for them. I have felt the last breath to leave a persons body. With it the memories and emotions casting itself out. What I do sometimes, is powerful stuff. Within this year I’ve had a new and very cherished person enter my life. For the sake of internet anonymity we will call her Raven.

From the moment she entered my office I knew I would love her. In the real way, not whatever dismissive way we “omg i luv u so much” people. But, in the way you love a friend you’ve known your whole life. Her soul spoke to mine. We connected. Along with being highly intuitive she is greatly complimentary, similar to the way I love my people. There have been times its strange being on the other end of that intention. Im learning to accept her love with grace. What strikes me as “share-worthy” this afternoon is a name she’s called me multiple times now. Little goddess.

It empowers me to hear those words. Her affirmation of my life energy as a professional, as a human, has blown my world open. Without knowing it, she has reinvigorated my troops so to speak. She has reminded me that while the room I’m in may be dark and closing in, I have only to turn the door knob in my hand to allow myself into the next phase of my life. I am the only one holding me back. She’s reminding me that I have the power to be reborn, the power to stop my own storms.

How lucky am I?

This junction also reminds me of something I read weeks ago:

“Somedays, I’ll just be too much woman. Too smart, too beautiful, too strong. Too much of something, that may make a man feel like less of a man. The biggest mistake I can make, is to remove jewels from my crown, to make it easier for a man to carry. Please, understand, I do not need a smaller crown.”

This in no way is a reflection on any of my personal relationships. Only the most intimate relationship of all, the one with myself.

Im feeling very loved today. Because I’m remembering to love myself. Im also closing this with a reminder, its ok to love yourself too.


The tale of a little goddess

Its all about change

Some days I feel as if I carry the world. Other days i wish the weight could just crush me under it. My business is struggling. No, its failing. Ive failed in it. So I’m trying like mad to hang onto the last remaining vital support i have. Im looking to find smaller office space and I’ve cut all of my expenses. Even some necessary ones. Roughly $450 dollars in monthly expense. Which doesn’t seem like much, but i haven’t gotten a paycheck since …. some time last year and really i just float money back and forth between my accounts. Its scary isn’t it? I even sent out 5 resume’s in the last 24 hours, looking for part time anything.

This is what happens when friends become your clients and when your clients become your friends. The ones who come and pay regularly either seek discounts or you lose the friendship. Losing one client a month is a big damn deal when your practice is as small as mine is. Im bereft at the moment and blaming myself. This is so hard.

Its all about change


I’ve been feeling the need to pull back lately. I feel as if I’m being attacked on every front. This usually means there is something happening in a primary relationship of mine. I feel especially defensive of my relationship with my partner. Everything is a jumbled mess of wires.

I’m also having a swing of melancholy at the moment. I feel as if I owe everyone, which is precisely the reason I don’t ask for help.

This should be bulleted.

I’d like to start today over again.


Poetry of Submission

I started with an idea for this post, maybe with a few minutes of writing it will return to me. Over the last few weeks as my relationship reaches its own rhythm, we have learned plenty about one another. Because of my service nature I’ve kept track of small things, how he likes his pillows, the right amount of ice in his cup, vegetable to protein ratio on his plate. I try to log these things, I work towards making my presence useful and appreciated. I serve.

In my domestic service at times, the sexual submissive wiggles her fingers wanting recognition. So used to being rewarded with sexual gratification, so trained that way in the past. Training that you believe in/enjoy, turns out to be a difficult habit to break. At times disappointment has caught up with me that this relationship does not reflect others I’ve enjoyed. That there is no punishment/reward system. That there is no task assignment, and at times my schedule and our life wouldn’t allow it anyway. Further reflection provides that this just isn’t the nature of things at this time. It may never be.

But, it makes me no less submissive. It makes my service no less important. In a small way for me, the lack of “rules and regulations”, the missing “reward” system makes my continued dedication to service that much more important for me. Knowing I am providing without overstepping, a quiet support. Enjoying the times of power exchange when they do happen. Remembering that it is unfair for everyone involved to compare our relationship to someone else’s. It is damaging to measure it up against the “perfect idea of D/s”. Because what we are doing right now is what works for us. There are frequent conversations about how we can improve our relationship. Not just with ourselves but with the community. How we can help, even in the face of whatever obstacles lay in the way. Moreover when that obstacle is one we have laid out because of our own issues.

There has been so much talk lately of cute submissive rebellion, it makes my relationship choices feel unpopular. Especially in the reality of less regimented D/s. It makes me forget the importance of my submission, both for me and for my Sir. Even when days pass and he hasn’t noticed that Ive not done the laundry or swept the floor. A part of me realizes that many people may read this and stand in defense of either one of us. That is not the point of this writing. I believe in a learning community of like minded individuals. Reading this may in fact give someone, D or s (or any of the other wonderful categories we fall into), a moment of thanks that they aren’t alone. That BDSM is not always all about the whips and canes. The rules and regulations. We are real people with real lives. Doing the best we can with what we have.

Poetry of Submission