Thinking Thoughts

I didn’t want to change him. I knew men don’t change. They are who they are. Either you accept them flaws and all or you don’t. It’s the don’t part that hurts the heart first. Then I made my own mistakes. I attempted to change me into something I’m not. That was my biggest mistake.

And now I’m nursing heartaches on heartaches. I helped in my own destruction. I battered down my own walls. I beat myself up, hard and for all for what? For a smile. For a atta-girl. Just to feel his pride settle down on me. It never will. It never did.

I refused to let pleasure-seeking be the thing that decides the flip of the coin. Logic as I understand it, granted I need to be careful of logical fallacies and exercise it to a greater degree, is what I choose to operate on. At least while I’m running the show. Emotions are such wayward things – impulsive, short-sighted and too often destructive.

I refused to ask so many things. I refused to confront so many different issues. I don’t believe it would have changed a thing. I wasn’t ready to accept that breadcrumbs are just breadcrumbs. I was starving thinking I was eating.

He once told me, he wanted to show me how amazing I am. I don’t feel amazing. I’m still waiting to see it. Rather I feel quite ordinary. But I was feeling low that day, very low and it was a hell of a boost to the id. I remember the smile it brought to my lips. It still brings a smile.

I didn’t want to change him. Still don’t want to change him.  There is some good there.  But right now, I’m worried that I hurt him. I don’t have a clue why I’d think that way or even feel that way.  Why would it matter that a cog popped off? It’s replaceable.

Or maybe I just wish I had hurt him. The thought of just being a cog in his eyes tears me up. An emotionless cog is how I felt in his eyes. Anything less than love an’ devotion was unworthy to spend a moment’s time on, a decision made to please him that ended up hurting me somehow. I’ve made massive mistakes.

What walls do I need to build up? Oh, right. I have a right to make a choice. I have a right to say no. And I also have a right to say yes. Oh, I have the right to make these choices of my own free will and in my own time.

It’s not such a little wall. It needs time.




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When the world changes

It took a single moment to plunge us into a whole new world full of terrors. From once we were in a place unfamiliar and strange but comfortable to a battlefield with the colors drained away. And so here we are standing in chaos as war rages around us and each of us sandbagging the walls. I’m calling out the orders. This place is destroyed. Just bare earth and the only other living things here are us.

This is the inner world we live and exist in, reconnect to each other in. What happened to us? Is this just the reality that illusion was keeping hidden? Or is this just an illusion?

Last few days I’ve watched as Isa has torn apart her Minecraft sky island. She tore it down to the bottom and is bricking it up again. Adding layer after layer of stone and dirt, making it thicker and more impervious to creeper blasts. I watch and wonder as the monotony of placing brick soothes her. One single distraction and she’ll fall off the edge.

Shoring up defenses, huh? I don’t want to live here in this place. It’s lifeless and full of pain. I miss the bleachers. I miss the cuddle rug. I miss the library. And I miss the days I dreamed I had. What’s the plan?

How do you transform a war-zone into a place of life?


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I finely feel safe.

It’s weird. I feel safe. After all this time, I’ve got tears of joy running down my face and I feel happy like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. I finally feel safe.

I hate doing relationship autopsies but this case it’s needed. I said goodbye and this time I feel free. I am free. And it’s because I feel safe. I couldn’t express this before. I didn’t know this feeling. I’ve been puzzling over it and I’m sure this is what safe feels like. Yeah, I feel safe.

It’s only recently I learned that each time I run, he deletes everything. So my address, my phone number, my emails, all gone, deleted. He has only one way to reach online and that’s it. He can’t find me. He can’t show up at my home. I’m beyond his reach now. I feel free and safe.

Weird right? I don’t know if it was a mind fuck gone wrong or what. Maybe it’s something left over from PTSD, I just don’t know. I’m working on figuring it out. I had to get strong enough to break a promise. I rarely make promises and all he’s ever seen of me is a string of broken promises. But I broke this one and I’m good with that. I made peace with myself over it. It stings and it will forever. It’s not something to forget. But I made my peace.

Early days, he wanted me to move in with him. There was a lot of talk, even of coming up to grab me and no one knowing what happened to me. I know that set in the terror. It scarred me. I ran then too. But I went back. I just didn’t know how deeply it scared me. All my life I’ve dealt with those kinds of emotions. For me they are normal. Or well they were normal.

I kept going back. Fighting my fears, fighting my reluctance and fighting him too. I tried to express that something was wrong but I never had a good grip on what it was. So I couldn’t say it like I’m doing now.

Even with the pee penny, my body had to teach me what I was feeling. I was supposed to put a penny in the toilet every time I peed, then fish it out. Okay, I can do that. I don’t get the squrrmies over it. I’m a mom, I cloth diapered my kids and hand-washed them. They had sensitive bottoms! So pee and poo don’t both me. My toilet stayed super clean. I switched to my non-dominant hand once I started wearing contacts again. But then my body learned to always poo when I pee. No longer was I fishing out a penny. And that had us going WTF? Why did that change?

Why was I resistant? If he let up, I’d backslide every time. You could count on it. Without him cracking the whip, things got much worse before they got better. It became the pattern. I hated it. This time, I knew my stuff was deleted. This time he left me not knowing if he’d ever be back. On one hand, it hurt like hell and on the other it was like okay fuck it, what are we going to do now? And I found I refused to do anything for him. So my life is going to shit. Fuck that shit, fuck that all to hell. My life, I’m doing it for me.

That’s what I needed. I started to chase my happy. Which also coincided with massive masturbation sessions. Nothing like a good daily pick-me-up to put a smile on your face.

I still had to face him, tell him. Didn’t want him wasting money on something I just won’t do. I gave up long ago trying to explain my problem. I gave up trying to figure it out. It was either him or me that was the problem. And it turns out, it was me after all. I didn’t have a lot of words for him. If I said more, he’d find a way to back me down and I’d collapse in again. If I’d said more, he’d poke holes all in it and I’d feel stupid for even attempting to be heard. If I said more, it would turn into an argument that does no one any good. If I said more, I’d bend and back off, back down, say I’m sorry and I’d still be there.

It’s odd. I think he might have guessed what the problem was. He mentioned a whole thing about ‘if I ever felt trapped, it was done’ as in over. Oddly that terrified me ever more as I often felt trapped. So I set to work on redefining that emotion. Still felt it.

But I walked. He was kind to me. Far kinder than I expected. I admit I cried. That kindness I had not felt from him and only feel when it’s over? It hurt and pissed me off even as I appreciated it. I had not known how much I really needed kindness shown to me. And in the after, this feeling, this amazing feeling is what it is to feel safe. I had never known what that feeling was before. Now I know what it is.

And I have him to thank for that. Thank you.

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Wemen Don’t Want Compliments

Why not? I figured I should cross post that humorous complaint I mentioned in the previous post. winks Here it is for your enjoyment although slightly edited.


I wake up every morning and race to the computer to check Fet.
And guess what!!
Every single day, except for the odd rare day that the moon really did turn blue, my inbox, my OMG, it’s my inbox is Empty!

I see all my fellow sisters in wemehood getting all filled up by men. They get so filled that they get to OMG I know! How can this be real COMPLAIN!!

It’s NOT fair I’m telling!

You men have left me out! How can I appreciate the compliments you rain down on those complainers? I don’t even have a chance to critique and help your improve. pouts

So what you don’t know me. I’ve filled out a profile. I wrote some stuff. I even put up a few pictures. I’m not an unknown thing. I’m on every single day and I’m just waiting for all those compliments to start filling up. Damn it, I need those compliments to feel like a woman. You want me to feel like a women right?
Then give me the treatment! I need it! I need it filled up!

giggles I’ll even promise my complaints will blow you over the moon in appreciation. Yes? That’s what men want right, appreciation?
I can’t do it unless you men start giving me something to appreciate. 😉

Inspired by this quote: “Whats interesting is I don’t see threads on here of women bitching that strange men don’t approach them and compliment them.”

May your journey be one that finds your smiles.

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Giggles for Profit

Where can I go to tell the world of my giggles? Oh, my. I enjoy posting things on Fetlife. Yet I do more lurking and reading than I do participate. That didn’t stop me from posting a rather tongue in cheek sarcastically humorous complaint about men not falling over backwards to fill my inbox several weeks back.

I figured I’d get swamped under in response. Nope. I got something rather and strangely different. I’m getting a whole lot more local responses and from some from rather intriguing Doms. Brave souls they are to send a message at all on Fet.

But then there is the super odd one who sends a friend request without a message. Checking out his profile, checks the pictures, turns the computer upside down…nope don’t recognize that appendage. Trust me, I would have remembered that one!

I guess he’d do as a flogging boy. I’m sure he’d do well as a peg boi. I’m in stitches waiting to see if he’ll respond to the message I sent him. Oh well, he really should have read my profile.  But still, I think I’d rather have him at my feet.  chuckles 

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The word of the day is: vulnerability.

I’m the drill sergeant of the house. I bring order and strictness and I strive to do so fairly. But I’ve stayed away, peaking in only when things reach intolerable levels. Mostly because lying in the past are huge issues between me and my husband. It’s hard for me to get past the idea that he hates me. I haven’t given him a chance to prove otherwise.

Last night I took my little ones back to school for the student-led parent teacher conference. I was just sitting on Isa’s shoulder listening in, chiming in with a comment now an’ then. My littlest was excited and exuberant to show off her work. But my oldest was solemn and already hiding things. Turns out she’s been having a very rough time of things. Because of the way her rough times showed, it was clear to me that this one responded better when I was fronting!

This really brought me up short. I have a lot of emotions just hidden under the surface. I talked to my husband about this. He understands and he also understands this is needed for her and has nothing to do with Us and him.

I have to bare my vulnerabilities openly now. And I pray, I hope and I wish my husband and my girls can accept me, even this part of me without rejection.

Posted in Motherhood | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

Oh really? Today is what?

It’s quite funny, today is International Woman’s day and I haven’t the slightest bit of interest in it. Never heard of it before and I’m sure it’s going to be used as some bellwether for a political movement or some such thing. I see social media references to protests. I just shrug and move on.

Somebody pretty important to me recently said they were going ‘radio silent’ for a while. Okay, everyone needs to do that from time to time. Not a big deal, right? Except, they are still pretty active on social media. Right. They just didn’t want to say they had no interest in talking to me anymore. Oooookay then.

So, in the interest of International Women’s Day, I suggest you be honest to the women in your life. At the very least you get to say you participated in celebrating this day. Win – Win for everyone!

Anyways, by the time International Men’s Day rolls around, I’m sure the guys can present the world a list of celebratory actions to partake in. Just sign me up for the cooking. I’ll put on coffee and make a feast.

Posted in Life | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments