Holding On


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It’s been a long time since I have blogged, obviously. Part of the reason is a complete lack of motivation and the other part is I am afraid that the thousands of thoughts brought on by the current chaos of the world and things going on in my life will come pouring out in post after post of messy negativity or outrage. I don’t want it on my blog and I’m sure you don’t want to read about it either. And I guess as she always tells me “thinking about a situation I can’t change is pointless”.

So like everyone else I am holding on to whatever sense of normal I can find these days. I workout almost every day. I am still making progress on my weight loss journey; or my healthy living journey. Sadly, I went back to smoking after being smoke free for over 5 months. To say I am disappointed in myself is an understatement. I do plan on quitting again. But right now I am just trying to focus on getting through each day.

I am lucky. I have it easier than some people as I’m not going through things alone. She helps keep me grounded. We have our routines each day that I can look forward too. She also supports and motivates me to stay on track in my workout or anything else I find myself struggling with at the time. She makes sure that I know she is there for me anytime I need her whether it is just to chat to distract my mind or for a shoulder to lean. Though she is a way more positive person than I and doesn’t struggle as much, I hope that I offer the same to her as well.

So anyway, I haven’t been blogging because right now I’m just holding on until we reach the other side. I hope you are too! We will get through it all.


Living in the Moment


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I was asked by a friend I was seeking advice from if I can “live in the moment”. It occurred too me that living in the moment is something I have always struggled with in life. I think the reason for this is because from a very young age I have always been on my own fighting for tomorrow.

When I was old enough and strong enough to fight back against my childhood abuser, I ran away from home with only the clothes on my back. For a brief period I had to constantly fight to figure out how I was going to make money, where my next meal was going to come from, and where I was going to sleep that night. I didn’t have the option of living in the moment.

In one way or another, it has always been me against the world. I took off that day on foot alone and I’ve pretty much always been that way. For the majority of my daughter’s life, I was a single low-income mother working full-time and pulling odd jobs to feed my family. Even in the times when I wasn’t single either it was on my shoulders to take care of things or I took it upon myself automatically. Don’t get me wrong I have had friends step up and give me a helping hand along the way on a few occasions and I am forever grateful for the kindness and generosity they showed me.  I don’t know what I would have done without them.

The point is I’ve never had the luxury of not having to plan for tomorrow that I can remember. I’m not sure I know how too really. So as it turns out I guess I am a bit of a control freak when it comes to planning for the future. What about you? Are you an in the moment type of person or one who has to have a plan? 


Safe Space


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She is my safe space. When I am with her I feel nurtured, valued, loved, accepted, and protected. Yes, I am a strong independent woman perfectly capable of taking care of myself. There is nothing in there I can’t provide for myself. But it also doesn’t mean I don’t want to feel those things. She provides me those things; she is my safe space. Everyone else gets a diluted version of me; whatever it is I choose to let them see. But with her, she sees me. She sees through me, even at times when I need to be seen but don’t want to be seen. She sees all the parts of me. And she provides me that safe space of protection, love, and acceptance to let those parts of me I keep hidden from others roam freely.

She has always been that safe space but I never realized it, or more accurately, I never accepted it as much as I have recently. It is through that safe space that she also guides me to grow into the woman and the submissive I want to become. She has taught me and continues to teach me many things including how to ask for the things I need, how to communicate and clarify when something is bothering me, and even ways to calm my mind and soul from my anxiety and depression.

Recently, I realized that with her I overcame something I’ve struggled with for many years. I slowly learned to express my sexual desires with her. Through her, in my safe space, I continue to grow more comfortable with my submission and the things I desire. Before her, I had never been able to discuss the things I desired. My traumatic childhood had created a wall of shame and embarrassment I couldn’t overcome. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t tell my partner what I desired. It had become such an issue I had sought treatment with a sex-positive kink aware therapist. Unfortunately, that fell through after a few appointments. As it turns out, I just needed to find the perfect safe space. She is my safe space.

Don’t get me wrong. It certainly didn’t happen overnight and I still struggle at times. She has shown me extreme patience in times I believe others would have walked away. Sometimes she nudges me firmly in the right direction. Other times she will listen, offer advice, and wait for me to take those first steps. She will comfort me and she will call me out on my bullshit all in the same breathe. In the beginning, I would shut down or lash out stubbornly refusing to admit she could see through me. And she would laugh, reaffirm her position, and let it pass for the time because she knew, even if I didn’t, that I would get there eventually. And I did get there, in my safe space, through her.


Closure and Pride


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My daughter is heartbroken. Her relationship of eight months just ended. We have all been there. And the only thing that can make the pain go away is time. It’s worse when, like in her case, it happens suddenly without warning that anything is wrong. There is no closure. People need closure. I admit I am one that needs closure. But I wonder, at what point is asking for closure just setting ourselves up for more pain? And at what point should pride play a role, if at all?

“Not knowing is the worse part”. I’ve heard this many times from people who don’t have the answers when something painful happens. And I agree that not having closure is extremely difficult. For example, let’s say my friend of 20 years suddenly ended our friendship. It is perfectly natural that I want to know why the sudden change. I want closure. However, the relationship ended for a reason and that reason isn’t going to be because we were so perfect she couldn’t take it. The reason is going to be something unpleasant or painful. I am going to feel worse about myself or something I did wrong and she will be more upset too from having to rehash it. Furthermore, knowing why she ended the relationship isn’t going to change the fact that it ended. So, naturally, we say we need closure. I do it too. But what is it really that we get out of having closure? “Because you don’t wonder what happened, mystic”. Yes, but is that really worse than the feelings associated with the reasons why it happened?

And at what point should pride play a role, if at all? I admit I have a lot of pride. I choose when to set my pride aside and when not too. It isn’t easy but usually, I choose wise enough that it is worth it. When I love her I do it without pride. When I submit I proudly submit but I also try not to let pride get in the way. If I am in the wrong, I will set my pride aside and apologize. Makes sense, yes? But when you are hurt you’re least likely to set aside that pride. At least, that is the case for me. For example, a lot of times if someone hurt my feelings I choose not to tell them out of pride. I also refuse, out of pride, to cry in front of people. Of course, this depends on who it is and the circumstances but I think you get the picture. My daughter messaged her boyfriend asking for answers. I disagreed with her decision to message him and the reason for this is strictly pride. For me, messaging them and asking for answers they didn’t provide upfront *feels* like I am begging. I begged a person not to leave me once. I’ll never do it again. Either a person wants to be a part of my life or they don’t. And if they choose not to be in my life I won’t beg them to stay. Thus, if they don’t offer to give reasons why they are ending things then normally I won’t ask either. Perhaps I am too proud and need to change or perhaps not. Honestly, I am not sure.

So I ask you. Do you need closure? Are you just causing yourself more pain in asking for closure? And what role does pride play in your relationships or the ending of a relationship?






Blast from the Past: Visiting My Sister


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I started to write another post I have somewhat prepared but changed my mind. Instead, I am going to share with you a happy memory from my past.

Before I moved in with my sister, my family decided to take a vacation to visit with her for a week. She lived right outside of the marine base Camp Lejeune in North Carolina. I hadn’t seen my sister for years so we spent most of the week with just the two of us.

The first day we went on base. I was in complete awe of so many things. I remember we had to stop at a crossing in the road for a large tank that passed in front of us. We visited a lot of the shops there and she bought me a camouflage jacket I wanted. At one point when we were walking back to the car I heard music and she stopped and stood completely still. I asked her what was wrong. She explained to me that every day they play taps at certain times and during that time, out of respect and by military rule, everything stops in place. I looked around, fascinated, that everyone and everything came to a complete stop. The men who had been running in formation stopped and saluted, vehicles stopped moving, and everything was silent.

The second day she took me to the beach there. Off in the distance, the military was holding training. You could barely see them from the beech but you could see that they were dropping out of a helicopter into the water. And in that water off a ways from there was a boat. But the boat wasn’t on the water, it hovered over the water. I remember jumping up and down screaming in delight watching them.

Every day she took me to various places with her and showed me many things I had never seen before. And almost every day, she would wake me up very early in the morning while everyone else was asleep and we would go out to breakfast together. She would laugh and put her arm around me because no matter how many seats were around the table, I always insisted on sitting beside her. I remember once looking down at our legs under the table and seeing how close to the ground her grown-up legs were compared to mine.

And every night, after dinner, she would sit in her recliner as I sat on the floor facing her, and she would play her guitar for me. I remember her playing Guns n Roses song “Sweet Child of Mine”. Years later, when I had my daughter, I sang that same song to her. Then after everyone else went to sleep and her husband went to work, we would lay in her bed watching scary movies.

That week was one of the best times of my life.