He did what!?

I am unapologetically polyamorous. I have an open marriage. That won’t come as a surprise to those who know me or long-time readers. I rarely talk about my home life; shall I call him as it feels trendy to do; my nesting partner? I like the idea, nesting partner as we tend to sleep curled up beside one another, in an endless cuddle when it’s me whos sleeping. I’m a cuddle bug.

My husband came home today. Yay! He’s been gone for four days this time. These trips are becoming a bit more frequent and I am getting used to them. More to the point, I’m regaining my independence. And so is he.

In some little midwest town full of farms and churches, my husband found himself a date. I was beaming from ear to ear as he told me about her, where they went, he even met her family and got the whole eye dagger dressing down. I’m happy for him but more than that, I am proud of him. He put himself out there, risked rejection, upfront and honest and found a friend. Just a couple of dates, hanging out and having a good time after work.

I wish I could tell her, “thank you.” Chances are, this was just two ships in the night, crossing paths for a brief moment, making memories and smiles. And I just sit here with this giddy happy to a wonderful surprise. He went on a date., without me.

Attribution Error

Healing comes from the inside, born of love and forgiveness.

On Silence and Threats
I can do a decade standing on my head.
But we both know that’s a lie.
I’ll be standing on my feet the entire time,
slowly snowed over with Kleenex’s.

Finely solved the whole dream issue of why it hurts so much to not have a Master…
because I had not stopped to look at what I have and to appreciate what I do have. Instead I stared long into the past and let that pain eat me instead of looking forward to building my future.

And I’m weird. I have everything I need to keep and enforce boundaries yet I step aside to allow Isa to be what she is, soft hearted. But I am the core of steel that protects her. A Master must be my equal or better for anything less will continue to cause Isa damage. There are a few odd rules involved. I’m not interested in changing the person. I will deliver a hearty smack down to idiots that cause harm but that’s punishment. If the person is to change, they must do it on their and for their own reasons. I’m not buying the idea that we change because we want the other person to love us more. Just, no.

I don’t tend to peep up and ask questions. I prefer to record and observe. This leads to many interesting observations and unusual conclusions. Which means I need more communication that normal, openness given results in openness returned.

And from now, that have to be able to deal with me. On my level. Isa might/may be their slave but I am not. I’m not always out because I am cleaning up another mess. I am capable of playing nice and acting as support role for Isa. But if I keep getting dragged out on clean up duty, then something is Fucking Wrong! Sense I am not going, I get to take the garbage out. Just don’t be garbage. Easy.

And I’m tired. Tired of prying Isa’s fingers off time and again. Tired of what I know comes after. Tired of being the bad guy, every time. Tried of doing what I know is right. She makes it hard to stay in the front. And today is one of those days where I wish I could just separate from her, like conjoined twins having surgery. There is nothing I know of that can do that. And stop right there, integration is not the answer.

It’s funny, the more I get to look at all of this, I just want to slap her. It’s so obvious that he doesn’t love her like she feels for him. She’s probably nothing more than Replacement Object #4,635; just another voice assigned with the same name, same duties. So she lied. Yup, she lied big time. No, we are not all in. It’s just her. Me, I’m tired of the cycle. I’m tired of being monkey in the middle. We gave integration a shot a long time ago and when it broke, things were worse than before. He has failed to prove he knows how to deal with all of us. All I can say to that is this; there are easier fish in the sea.

Owning a slave that has DID is a pain in the ass. I know because we are a lovable pain in the ass to our husband and boy. Twenty plus years with both of them, they’ve been there from before knowing and stayed and supported us after knowing. They did the work to gain a relationship with me. They did the work to earn a measure of trust, with me.

The buck stops with me, no matter how many times I am willing and happy to step back to let Isa just be. I don’t have her innocence or joy. I don’t have her starry eyed enthusiasm. I don’t have her child like wonder. I don’t have her sensuality. I don’t have the depth of her emotions. I don’t even have her laughter. What I do have, is an appreciation of everything she is and the will and strength to protect her. Even when it’s gonna cut her heart out again.

We need to talk.

It’s not often I feel the pull of the stars in my life. This cycle around it is pulling hard and not pulling any punches with me in my life. If anything, it makes a decent non-corporal scapegoat.

March 6th had things blowing up in my life from the moment I woke up to the moment I closed my eyes to sleep that night. Everything I thought I knew I learned I did not. Everything, since I was 14, was rewritten in a matter of hours. The world, my world was knocked right off its axis. I’m still processing all of this.

I am now looking, considering ending one of the longest relationships I’ve ever had. From 14 to 40 and I have the strongest feeling it is now time to end it. I don’t know if I am sitting here typing this in shock or in horror.

My metamores no longer live close to me. They are several states away and have been for a few years now. When we all had been closer, it was a good seven-year run together. But now, knowing what I now know, I can feel the need for a clean break, a clean ending of things.

I am married. I’m not a single woman raising children alone. I am poly and my husband is a happy satisfied man. I have no intentions of ever leaving my family, not even for a metamore.

sigh, I am not unfamiliar with long distance relationships. Until recently, I was involved with a quite a few. When I do this, I will be down to one long distance relationship, no play partners, no metamores; just my husband and me. I’m looking forward to that. Is that so strange?

I’ve been closing a lot of the doors to the past lately. It feels good taking a moment to pause and chew on this. I will still have a heart that falls often and a body that demands sensation. I will still be the same person I’ve always been. (I hear the laughter in the back row, hush now sweetheart.) Maybe I am closing a door on a larger chapter of my life, or am I turning the page to an even more exciting future? I know I am doing this for me. It’s time for me to focus on me.

Integration of Personalities Has an Unexpected effect.

I’ve been quiet on the blogging front this summer. A whole lot has happened in the mean time. The most important part of this is my integration. I don’t know if I can say I am DID any more or what. Not that identifying with the label matters. What mattered and continues to matter is my healing and mental health.

Integration was surprisingly and willingly chosen as self preservation. It’s odd, splitting of personalties is a form of self preservation in the first place and facing a situation where reintegration was the correct answer for self preservation is well, odd. I knew that the splitting and switching was and had become a misused copeing mechanism that I could no longer rely on.

I knew that I had grown strong enough emotionally to face my fears head on. I have worked hard on facing the issues I have with C-PTSD and have made some amazing progress with self guided desensitization therapy. That alone has helped me gain confidence in my ability to over come any issues I face.

Over this summer, I have integrated into the original host personality. I have faced the deep grief head on and allowed myself to feel it, to cry, to weep and mourn. The one thing I faced was that we, my parts all accepted that integration wasn’t death and even if it was, saving me was saving us and that was a noble and worth while action.

It was love that healed us, healed me.

Yet there have been some unusually issues that integration has caused. My alters were hyper magnified aspects of my core personality. Now that I am all back together, not one part of me is out of balance, nothing is in a hyper state of being. As time goes on, I am starting to lose the intensity of the memory of my alters. It is not that they are sleeping, but they are absorbed back into me.

This has impacted some of my relationships in unusual ways. My primary relationship is still solid. He doesn’t quite understand but then this is a breath of fresh air for him. I am not rocking from one alt to another so wildly. For once I am consistent.

My other relationships on the other hand have been extremely rocky. It was them who helped guild and push me towards integration. One of them has been the catalyst of my integration. It was He who had my alters in full blown knock down drag out fight over what to do.

It was our conclusion that fighting ourself was not going to solve this issue. That our parts were not as strong separate as we would be united. There is truth in the phrase “United We stand, Divided We Fall.”

Only one mind, one leader could solve all the issues, so they woke me up. I believe it was only possible because I had matured along the way as I had slumbered. The only thing of me they had while I was separated was to chime my age; an age that had no correlation to my physical age. Once I had caught up, I was ready to face the world as I am. As I truly am, whole.

Now this all being said, I still have issues remaining. Those very issues that sparked the integration are now seen in a much different light. Isabella was an alt, as is Autumn and Jay. But Isa was the creative and sexual side of me. Isa is slave. In some ways I wonder if it is her being slave to her hyper magnified emotions and sexuality.

I have not been able to continue the relationship that Isa held with one particular man. I don’t even have the same drives that drove her. In fact I am finding it hard to connect to that aspect, those feelings, even those motivations. This was not foreseen. I knew there could be a loss of things and a gain as well. But something so primal, so deeply developed I had no clue could be lost.

The emotions have not been lost. The motivation and desire has disappeared. I have become selfish. I am interested in what benefits me most. I haven’t lost empathy, kindness or love. Yet where Isa was self sacrificing, self effacing, motivated by others desires of her, I am selfish, more interested in my goals, my dreams, my wants. It is very different and it points to the key issues that were behind the fight with myself, between the alts.

Autumn was the fighter, the protector, more logical yet with a creative streak as well. She was the rescuer as well. She feared that integration would allow the nature of Isabella to become the whole. She was wrong and looking back now I can see that wasn’t even possible. Autumn represented the strength to over come any obstacle set in my path. It took years for her to grow as strong as she became. She could bet Isa in a fight and their were many. She even grew to learn love and friendship. She learned to not be afraid of her nature or afraid of rejection for it.

And it’s odd. All these parts are me. All that they learned was what I learned. Their growth is my growth. Their relationships are my relationships. And one of them has broken.

Where Isabella could say she is slave, I can not. I have no idea if I will ever be. I can not even say I am submissive. Autumn could only say that she was non sexual. So what does that work out for me? I have no idea at all. It is something that I know I will decide as I continue growing and learning.

A pretty package to love

Loving more than one, so you like variety, do you now dear?

Funny how the oddest things bring up the strangest ideas. I was in an outstanding mood when my husband came home and we had a great evening. Everything was running smoothly and when he settled into bed, I curled up beside him wanting to cuddle and talk. I’ve been able to express a bit more about being DID with him and been willing to ask questions about myself.

Then I said something I didn’t even expect to come out of my mouth. That me being DID is like being married to three different women. Poly by default. It startled me a great deal to think of this that way but it does help me understand some of his difficulties that he’s endured while being in the dark all these years. And it makes my heart whimper even a bit more. He loves all of me, flaws and all.

Sometimes Love isn’t Enough

UnstopableSaying goodbye to someone you deeply love is heartbreaking. Being polyamorous isn’t protection against such hurts. Add D/s into the mix and you have a recipe for change that you better be capable of handling or otherwise you’ll drown under it.

And yet there are times saying goodbye is an action of strength, of growth. We may love that person but we have gone as far as we can in that form of relationship. Change becomes necessary to be a healthy person, releasing both parties to continue their personal growth.  With luck, one day a different kind of relationship may be established, one without  hurts and resentments and supportive of the best for the other.

I started blogging years ago with a single purpose in mind. I stated it no where and never mentioned it. Because I was afraid. You see, I was newly married and in shock to find out that my husband wasn’t as dominant as he first appeared. In fact, this was just one more log to add to an already burning relationship that I was internally willing to throw away.

Yet I had a yearning, a desire I couldn’t shake. I remember saying to myself, “Well, I’ll just write for my Master so he can know me.” I didn’t even have a Master much less a clear idea of what that entails at a tender age of 26 / 27. That became the basis of why I write. I have a huge need to be known. Even though the irony is that blogging is the one medium I deeply censor.

It’s that need, the need to be known and others that make love insufficiency. We can love deeply and still feel and be unfulfilled. It really should cause one to take a closer peek at their own personal needs. And for those of the submissive persuasion, an examination of what your needs truly are is in order. Today in my ruminations I have been shocked to realize that it is okay to have needs. And even more shocking, it’s okay to express them.

I have failed in several relationships to express those needs. They were so deeply repressed I only had faint whispers of a feeling something wasn’t quite right or as well as it could be. And I am now considering the possibility that having those needs met might mean the difference between happiness versus existence for me.

When I started writing this post I was thinking of several individuals who have impacted my life greatly over the last few years and in all the lessons that I have learned from each of them. Each one of them, I fell in love; some deeper, some not so much. I loved them all and still do in my own ways. And yet there is one where the love is so deep, the thought of never saying Hello causes me to weep. For him, I’ll be anything he needs me to be, best friend, friend, acquaintance, even a stranger if that is what is best for him.

I  feel to the depths of my soul a love that drives me, empowers me to be more than I am, just so I can feel his smile, his pride settle on my shoulders even if that is all there ever is. And yet, love isn’t enough.

I want to say I am a slave but recent events in my life have called even that into question. What I know is that I am at least submissive and service oriented. I have limits, both internal and external. And I have needs. And I am happiest when serving and that service is both acknowledged and accepted. It is as if I was given all the energy needed to do the very things that makes me happy and empowers the one who I served.

But for most of my life my service to others have been in the nature of sacrifice not joy, of self-denial, not happiness, of pain, not pleasure. Those are second nature to me and quite dangerous. I neglect myself because someone asked it of me, unknowing most of the time. Being this, what I am requires a great deal of self-awareness and learning how to balance this core need to serve against my need for purpose in such a way that I support my health and happiness.

I want to say I live to serve but that’s not quite right. I live because I breath. I serve because I need.

And I have a choice; I can serve in sorrow and pain or with joy and happiness.
And service is not obedience. That is perhaps best left for a different posting but I wanted to point it out that it is not the same at all.

And love is not required to serve. Because service is a far deeper core need than love, the need to serve is a bit more dangerous. Which explains why sub-frenzy is such an issue and leads to actions and events that are both painful and avoidable.

So love isn’t enough to fill in all those other needs. Good thing love multiples and never spreads thin. But love is magical. Everything tastes better with love, everything looks better and brighter, even all the jagged areas of personality is smoothed down, and even flaws look attractive. It’s supportive, it’s protective, it encouragement. Love is the quality of desiring happiness for the other person instead of placing your own happiness as more important. It is “I am happy that you are happy.”  And it is nurturing and accepting and most of all healing.

I think the Greeks were on to something with the five kinds of love, just that I would argue they were stages to love, not so separate at all. Love may not be enough, but it is necessary.



Poly Pitfalls

I think i fell in love with a Narcissist.

He is a strong charismatic dominant figure with a way with words and a poetical soul. In short everything i could dream of. Intelligence and depth; except that i had no clue that his depth was only a reflection i was putting out there. I was falling in love with a projection of who I thought he was. I choose to ignore the troublesome red flags that popped up from the beginning.

When am i going to learn that i really need to learn to listen and trust my gut?

Everything between us happened so fast. Instant fast. God, the mental chemistry was hot, so fucking hot i was walking around scorched one side and down the other. I choose to ignore and bend on things i knew
damn well that i shouldn’t.

I should have stopped and stayed away. It took a whole lot of pain to pull away the first time. The chemistry was strong. I wanted to become what he wanted. I wanted to do, to be that, do all that he asked and thought. It excited me as much as it did him. We were both getting what we wanted as long as i did as i was told and didn’t question him or my feelings. If i had only followed blindly, i think we could be happy. But it wouldn’t be me, it would be a lost version of myself.

And this second time around, painful still, i fell into love. How cruel i have been to withdraw my obedience yet not deny my love? How cruel is it for me to say i have issues with topic x, y and z? How cruel is it to admit the amount of waiver i experience?

And it has ended no differently than i expected once i figured out the rules. He wants to be the greatest purpose in a woman’s life, to the level of being the very reason she breaths. Such high lofty ideas, hmm?

I saw a picture in my G+ that went like this “you’re the reason she breaths? How about oxygen? ” it cracked me up! Yes, breathing is automatic and without it life ends. So can i extrapolate this idea to the point where it is an expression of she lives only for you…that her life is in your hands?

I don’t think this is a healthy or even reasonably thought to maintain about a relationship. And who am I to fuss about this? I am the one who wants a Master, that i can worship both in body and in soul, someone i will look up to and admire, someone who knows me insight and out and sees me as more than i am and encourages me, a Master who is not afraid of me, my temper, my moods and the changes, someone who is genuinely interested in me. I know this is a tall order. And i should also add, someone who i can be fully free to be myself with, flaws and all. I want to be able to touch the person, curl my tender scarred heart at his feet Knowing i am safest here in his shadow.

I wanted to believe he was my dream as he wanted to believe i was his.

Might i have made some mistakes? Yes, quite a few sadly so. Still learning to be strong and to not waver. It’s never good to bend for curiosities sake. Red flags are there for a reason. I am going to miss him as time goes on.

But to beg to be taken back? No. I didn’t beg, ever. I will not beg. Had to be instructed to beg and whimper. It is not in my nature.

Why didn’t i see it till now? His ego is huge! Barely know him and i should be begging to be with him? I should be talking and begging to be on the phone with him? That i should read his mind and know open ended things are set ups for me to act on?

Hell, he even prompted me to say i love you at the end of the call. How much pompous is that? He wanted his ego stroked. He went so far as to give me the tools to do it. Funny that way. He had to train me how to stroke him right.

If i am right, six months I’ll hear from him again. No apologies, no fixing what went wrong, but it will be good, damn good. He knows money is an issue with me and so is independence and having limits. I am curious as to what he may come up with. We need to stay away from each other honestly. Toxic fire. Just on the off chance i am wrong, still would be best for him to stay away from me. Just too toxic, so not good for each other.

I may bend. It’s the snap back that catches folks off guard.

And here is to hoping that brutal honesty will burn that bridge down good.