On the Mend

Clarity is a blessing, although it hurts sometimes.

You observe them move through life confidently.

Ignorant to their deficiency.

To truly know someone requires a childlike curiousity, saintly patience, and comforting tenderness.

They want you, but they don't value YOU.

To them, your awareness looks like hubris.

Your inqisitions feel like challenges.

Your inhibition like ego.

They can’t fathom that you may know  the reality of love.

You see the faint cracks in their character. The places where care could dwell but it doesn’t . You see the impatience, pride, and careless assumptions.

And yet, part of you still wants them.

Not because you are naive but, because you can see the man they could have been had their life softened them in different ways.

You see them beyond what they choose to show. Beyond what they see in themselves.

Unfortunately, understanding someone does not make them capable of loving you.

The revelation sits with you.

So you keep your distance.

Respecting the wounded things inside of you that require a gentle  touch, an even more gentle tounge, and a wise mind.

They don’t understand.

They will think you walked away because you think yourself superior.

You walked away because you know they cannot protect you from themselves and will hurt the things inside of you that they never learned to see.

(Ai assisted)

There is a pull.

I want to make sense of it.

Instead, I just feel crazy.

It doesn’t offer any polite requests.

Nor does it does it entertain logic.

It moves in me like a flame,

or like a tide that responds to the moon even when the sky is black.

He has never touched me,

yet his voice fills my spirit like the vibrations from the bass of a speaker.

And suddenly, I am the woman I envision my highest self to be-

soft, owned, powerful .

I often wonder if it is really love that I feel or lust or something more ancient than either.

However, what I am certain of, is that when I imagine being with him, in his energy,

the anxiety inside me calms.

There are many obstacles that stand between us, rules and borders and cold arithmetic,

but none of these can overpower desire.

This could be dangerous in more ways than one.

Maybe it is just lust or escapism.

Or maybe this is the connection of our dreams.

So I come back everyday, waiting to see.

Trusting and hoping for something true.

Feeling his energy move through me

like a promise my soul always knew.

There is a wildness concealed within my stillness,

a storm amongst my calm.

I ache in silence,

where devotion sharpens into pains, sharp like hunger.

I obey.

Not because I am weak,

but because I was made to soften.

Made to find respite in the strength of another.

Seeking a place where the world finally quiets.

There is a hunger in me that no amount of smut can satisfy,

a longing no black screen can reach.

Because what I ache for is connection, and intimacy.

To be touched in the places most men don’t have the diligence to find.

The one my body and mind is accountable to is far from me.

Distance challenging me.

To crave without reaching.

To trust without being held.

Sometimes I wish I were a more simple woman,

less aware of my own tenderness,

less honest about how deeply I need to be claimed and cared for.

Then I remember, this is how I was written.

Soft,

obedient,

faithful even in my longing.

I am willfully shackled to patience,

even when my body whispers that it is spent.

I tuck my wanting into quiet prayers

and trust that I will not be forgotten.

Switching has been fun.

The sense of control is a great feeling.

The first scene he said I was holding back. 
The second I did way too much.

But this last time, he was very pleased and impressed.

I still wouldn’t call myself a switch but,

it sure does feel good to please a pretty subby boy.

Switches intrigue me.

I have never given being dominant a second thought until recently.

This environment has afforded me the privilege to speak to a couple of switches.

And their ability to embody both polarities is admirable.

I began to think, 

my inner desires have been for a dominant man who appreciates my submission to come and essentially help guide me out of this hell I have built for myself. This marriage and my life as a result. 

And then I think,

I can do this. Women do it everyday. They don’t stay to die or burn in the hell, they become big girls and figure it out. And I’ll have days when I feel this. But a lot of the days I am afraid that I will burn and die before I get there. Or that I am not smart enough, disciplined enough, strong enough to survive the traps laid for me.

But a switch can do both. Fem doms are fierce and I wonder if that is a side of myself worth exploring. That there has to be something that I can discover within myself, where I no longer have to be in pain or be a victim. It’s old and tired at this point. 

So I have dabbled, and received decent feedback and plan to take the reins of domination again. Researching. I wouldn’t call myself a switch by any means. My natural inclination is definitely submission. It’s where I’m comfortable and where my mind reverts to whether I want it to or not. It was actually quite fascinating that while I’m attempting to be dominant in a scene these small waves of submission slip out. 

Im going to keep training this muscle of dominance and see what comes of it. Its definitely a good time. I was very aroused surprisingly. Grateful that I have this relationship and opportunity for discovery. 

Someone asked me how I was introduced to the lifestyle ( common question). I usually tell about the Discord I was in for Muslim women to learn about bdsm. It was great, private, there was a teacher and another expert. They taught from some book I can’t remember the title. That was my first official introduction to all the different aspects and terms.

But

I used to have this bf. One time he broke into my apartment while I was in the kitchen washing dishes. Bent me over the sink and fucked me until he made me kneel and came all over my face. He called me a slut, whore, etc. And I really loved it. I think that was my real introduction. Now having been in a terrible and sexually starved marriage it’s clear that play in general can really keep a relationship alive and strong connection. Obviously, it’s maybe 11 years later and I’m still thinking about it.

What is also clear is patience is a big part of this lifestyle as well. It seems everyone I speak to is just waiting for their person or people that they can play with for the rest of their lives and live happily ever after. Yes patience is important for longevity, authenticity, and connection. Nice to have places we can support each other….while we are being patient.

( This is all over the place but, I just needed to get it out raw. Hoping writing out some of this pain will help me heal)

It would be nice to be saved. It is also very unlikely.

It would be nice to be powerful and save myself.

But I have never done it.

I don’t feel powerful.

Stole my energy and my time.

So, I have faith and, minimal energy.

Is it enough?

I just need someone to lend me some energy.

But no one cares.

A woman I know is almost away from her abuser.

To her benefit, they didn’t live together, they don’t have kids together, they were not together as long and she is smart enough to have a degree.

So she was able to find a really good job to buy her freedom.

I have all these obstacles and I’m not that smart.

Used to smoke too much weed I guess.

I try not to be jealous. He is a tad worst than my husband.

So I’m working toward my power with minimum wage. I just need some energy.

I have been talking to a dom on here.

I liked that no matter how many times I disappeared he would always interact.

But I don’t think he really likes me that much.

He seems very busy. Which is fine.

But I know when you want something you go after it and, I need energy.

Although I did like the little he gave me, but I think the longing to connect with him more and it not really being reciprocated cancels it out.

So I blocked him.

I was buying the Im busy stuff before I went to visit my sister.

Her man is a multimillionaire. Probably the busiest person I have ever seen and she was getting I miss you’s and even just little tasks for things that needed to be done.

While my phone….crickets.

I accept that this is the station I am to be in right now.

It just sucks.

And it’s lonely.

I get angry.

I’m resentful.

Because my husband was supposed to take care of me.

But he only damaged me further.

Anyway, tomorrow is another day of minimum wage while listening to smut audiobooks.

Dreaming of the day I will be like the women in those stories.

Properly seen, loved, understood, respected, appreciated, fucked, cared for, protected, used, and controlled.

I just want to get to a point where I am ok.

After abuse, I just want to be ok with this void never being filled.

He weaponized that I was not submissive enough. I worked really hard to become more submissive, only to realize he wasn’t actually masculine/dominant, and that he would never put in any effort to become what I needed.

So, ten years down the drain, a child, and very little value added to my life, I have to wrestle anger and resentment as I try to work and save to leave. He won’t divorce me. Won’t stop touching me. Won’t stop expecting things from me, and can’t even fuck me to my satisfaction like he used to.

All I crave is safety and security, and I feel weak for it. I JUST WANT TO BE OK. I want to be strong. I want to be self sufficient. I don’t want to need anyone else.

But every second I’m alive my heart is yearning  for a man I can trust, that will see me, and love me. I just want to not want it. I just want to be ok.