Better alone

Paying very close attention to my behaviors has proven to be a worthwhile endevor. Since January and the beginning of my relationship with MC, I’ve notice some things within myself. A breaking of self confidence, independence, faith, fun.

I dedicate so much time to my partners. I believe truly in giving what you’d hope to receive. Attention, affection, compliments, desire, sharing of life, dreams, fantasies, hopes, aspirations. I believe in unity. It has never happened that someone has ever responded in full.

I am and always have been polar opposites for some people. Simultaneously too much and never enough. I want to much attention, sex, affection, compliments. I require too much maintenance. Or I simply am not enough in regards to intelligence, social standing, career prospects, beauty, physical aesthetic.

Whatever the case may be, or however you view me, one word always rings true. When I am a partner in a relationship, I’m overwhelming. That word slices through me. It opens me up and allows everything to spill out. All of my hurts and scars. An eviseration of horror. Which in turn only leads to more overwhelming sensations for my partner. Because really, no one wants to see the beasts living in your darkest most closets.

All of these thoughts accompanied me in my trip to Lafayette yesterday. As I approached the familiar roads of the city I grew up in, the truth came to me. I am so much better when I’m alone. These relationships take so much work. I have someone who expects me home in the evenings. Someone who expects me to do the laundry and feed the dogs. Likes when I shave my legs.

In my moments of self reflection and wonder, I begin to debate my effectiveness as a partner. I begin to second guess myself. It’s almost as if I am just around the corner from discovering the actual truth of my life. Believing for so many years, one thing. Just to discover a pure vision of my role in the world. A role where I am none of the things I believe myself to be.

Not a healer.
Not a mother.
Not a friend.
Not a partner.

Not anything I would say I desired to be at some point in my existence. Maybe that the truth of it all is, I’m a an overwhelming vacuous hole of vapid insecurity. A pulsing excuse of a woman wrapped up in too much flesh and desire.

An overwhelming void, better off alone.

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Better alone

Two year blogversary

Happy two years to me. Yayyy.

I seem to find myself with a boyfriend. (Way to open this post up right?) Miss single and mingle is now attached. I’ve had bad luck in the past sharing about my relationships here. So when I do touch on it I’m sure it will be sporadic and postdated.

Things I tend to be excited about for 2015:

A larger percentage of my time being spent with rope on my body.

Growing spiritually.

Winning at this whole “running a business” thing.

Maybe for the first time using my body like the tool it is and not letting it use me.

Being happy.

Happy.

And if not happy, joyfully content.

Two year blogversary

Your biggest/naughtiest/wildest fantasy

In the world of online dating (gaaarrrroan) this is always the question when people find out I’m kinky. Especially when they find out im poly.

“That must make for wild family nights.”
“Are you covered in bruises all the time?”
“Do you call them Master in public?”

“What is the wildest thing you’ve done?”

I can almost predict what questions I’ll get from certain people. It makes me want to throttle them. My response is usually “Everyone’s perspective is different. Three ways could be your maximum kink. But then so could flogging someone for an hour.”
But the truth is, my wildest fantasy: having a real, loving, evolving relationship. In this style of life. Because all of the play and whatnot, that I could do whenever I wanted.

I have high hopes for 2015. I’ll also be posting a new list! I’m so looking forward to it. I hope your holidays have been merry.

A

Your biggest/naughtiest/wildest fantasy

From the observation deck

I’ve been so emotional, psssh. Like a crazy thing really. While I’m working I can just shut it off and push it away. I can detach really from what I feel and think. Just let my hands do their work. As the holidays come round I find myself even more needy than I am during the year. I find myself reaching out, even to people who have in essence replaced me on their lives.

Over the last two weeks I’ve connected with someone who … well has paid me loads of attention and it’s felt so so good. I’m struggling with a few thing, but the conversation and the fantasies we’ve shared are motivating. (To say the absolute least) It reminds me of how much I love true submission. Truly letting myself go. Allowing myself the freedom to just be and let happen.

The longevity of this relationship is murky, because of the reservations I have. I almost feel judgemental that I’m having them. I work so hard at my job, take awful good care of my health, hygiene is SO important to me. Things like smell will totally ruin a moment for me. My nose is awfully sensitive. So when I run into someone who doesn’t share those same views, it will always be difficult for me to commit.

It makes me wonder if I’ve been single because my standards are to high. But if I can’t get around the problems what’s the point right? It’s an internal struggle, being moved by someone who can utilize my submission properly. But not finding the simplest things about the attractive.

I don’t know how to feel about this.

From the observation deck

What did you expect?

We grow up learning that if you treat people kindly, they will do the same for you. If you love them, they should in fact love you. If you are good and kind and sweet, that is exactly how people will treat you.

But it’s not, is it? We are selfish creatures. We think of gratification first. We push aside the ones who have invested in us for the next best thing.

I’ve been a pill, I can imagine, since January. I’m so stuck between wanting to BE and wanting to just exist. I keep trying to make myself better. I try so hard to be good enough for anyone to notice.

As usual this is just some crazy post.

I’m stuck.

Like I’ve been cemented into this place. It feels as if I’ll be here forever. Wanting something I’ll never have and not appreciating something I don’t find vaulable.

What did you expect?

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I feel like I should work at a DMV, let the problems in my life be people who all have issues.

After three and a half hours of being in the hospital today I’ve found out that the lump in my breast is a calcified bruise. I have a handful of cysts here and there, but no cancer. I’ll go back in 6 months to check it again.

I get home, after a celebratory dinner with my sister, to a 3 page long text about some new bullshit.

I hate relationships.

I hate people hurting my feelings.

I hate feeling like I owe someone.

I hate developing soft spots for people.

I fucking hate all of this.

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