Stereotypes.....where do they come from? The Mob.. Society.. The Village..
Fear. Unease. Ignorance.
Up untill around June of 2020, you could have considered me less than vanilla. Probably not even that considering I didn't enjoy sex, derived nothing but a sense of dread, shame and inadequacy from it. Actually thought I was broken, missing something that apparently every other female on the planet seem to have. Never will forget it.... Bout a year after I took my then 1 yr old daughter, and excaped a 15 yr abusive marriage, I was in the tub.....I had ran the water a little hotter than I usually did. I get in, adjust to the temp...and lay back. I let my legs fall open and relax......... The breath stopped in my lungs when the most wanderful feeling in the world engulfed my.......My clit swelled up and all these sensations and shit was radiating from it. I did what my body told me to do.
Damn near drowned myself. I know I sat in that tub hours after the water had done gone cold, crying and laughing at the same time. I wasnt broken. I was just as.......much as every other woman on the planet.
Fast forward another year and several more near death drownings in the tub, I ventured out into the world looking for a partner. Thats when I met.... Indianna, (we'll call him). He more or less embodied the worst or my fears and shit when it came to men and sex as well as other things. He presented himself as a D-type but in the end, hind sight being what it is, he was just a self absorbed narcissist. Nonetheless, I did gain alot of good from the relationship I had with him. It was him that first opened my eyes to BDSM as well as many other things. I cant help but grin at the old me and shake my head. To think that I had went YEARS, waisted YEARS, without knowing the physical pleasures that could be had all because of a stereotype I was...fed, taught, or had. For example....and please, dont judge me too harshly, for at the time I really was this..... innocent...Fisting..... at the time I was horrified at the thought, had googled it, (wrong thing to do without a base line so to speak) It was unthinkable.... Well....lets just say Indianna had a way of making me want things.......jeeze. Anyways........ As it would turn out.......No where near the horror I thought it would be. Granted he was unable to fit his hand completely in, I am a bit small and it becomes too painful, but up untill it becomes too much....... stretched and filled to the brim became a very very wonderful thing, where as before.....
I'm a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. No such thing as coincidence or accident, nor do I believe that its all mapped out. I believe that everything happens when ever, where ever, and how ever its suppose to in accordance to the ever changing and shifting energy forms that we are. I sit here in this very moment, looking at faded bruises and scratches, sporting new glasses and the last smudges of a black eye curtisey of Indianna, Half of me wishes I had pulled the trigger on my single barral and filled his ass full of buckshot, (just little ole 8s..wouldnt have killed him). Yet there other half, I am very thankful for haveing had him in my life and learning and gaining the things that I did from my time with him. And while answering my friends questions about obvious bruises, it dawned on me, that he was going to judge my Indiana harshly..due to stereotypes...And I cant blame my friend, I can only try to help him to see past it.
I'm not sure why I write this. Part of me thinks it might be my way of giving Indianna his due, a tribute if you will to the unintentional twisted work of art that he is. Maybe I'm trying to keep myself mindful of the lesson, a few misconceived notions left to shed perhaps. For whatever reason..........
If you've actually read my ramblings this far, Imma say thanks for hanging in here, I appreciate the exchange of energy.
Love and Light to you and yours.
L.S.