One size doesn’t fit all

I am human. Sometimes I fail, sometimes I can be selfish. I spent my whole life thinking and doing for others. Being alone now, I just want to do things for me. But, I need to remember, it isn’t about me and know that I can let my giving and caring side out and not be trampled and made to feel weak. I tried to forget that side of me.
I like to do little things for those I care about. Things to make their lives easier. Things they wouldn’t do for themselves. It’s instinctive for me to want to lighten someone’s burden. I find it hard to ask for anything for myself. I squashed my desires, my needs, my wants for years. I sacrificed so much for others. Sometimes I feel guilty when I pamper myself when I get my nails done, or get a wax, or a facial. Things I was always told were frivolous and unnecessary. These little things I do now for myself make me feel happy and good about myself.

That is growth for me. Reminding myself I can still do for others while still caring for myself as well. A balance in a way. I still stumble, I am still unsure of myself sometimes. But I am learning.

I originally completed the BDSM test and I showed as a Switch. I think a lot of that had to do with my career and how I am perceived in the workplace. Through different experiences I found I was less inclined to be dominant in the bedroom and outside of work. It was like I was able to shed that dominant persona I needed to survive my work environment. Don’t get me wrong. There were many miss steps in my journey and even now I am still learning, growing, evolving with the help of my very patient Dominant. You would think the term submissive and confidence or empowering would not mesh well. But my journey has been empowering in the sense of owning my sexuality and desires. My confidence in my femininity and womanhood has blossomed. Unlearning the belief that sexual needs and desires are something to be ashamed of. I feel confident in displaying my body more so than I have ever felt. It is freeing when with my Dom’s guidance I am becoming who I was meant to be.

When my dominant gives me a task or hints at one to come and I know he enjoys the play, it always has me on edge. I am excited but at the same time a bit anxious. I never know what he is going to tell me to do. He pushes my limits, broadens my experiences which are quite limited. I am thankful for his guidance, for his insight. He tests me daily, corrects me immediately. Doesn’t allow me to make excuses and for that I truly respect his authority. I have learned so much and pushed myself to experience things I had never even dreamed of. I am learning to be what I always knew I was capable of. My first thought in the morning and the last at night are of my Dom. I feel truly blessed.

Trauma takes many forms and how we react to that trauma at the time or years later impacts everyone differently. With me. both childhood sexual trauma and military sexual trauma have left deep psychological scars. Flashbacks, anxiety/panic attacks, self harm.
For years I was able to push things down, bury it. But then about 18 months ago the floodgates opened and everything came rushing back. I became isolated, afraid and would wake up screaming in the middle of the night. I would get up and turn all the lights on and just sit in a corner, my back to a wall facing the door and just rock myself, or curl myself in a ball until exhausted I would fall asleep.

My career was unstable, my marriage a farce, I was obese and I was miserable. 
I looked at myself in the mirror and despised what I saw looking back at me. I swore to get my life back. I found a counselor, I started working out. I started the process of separation and divorce from a man I no longer had anything in common with.

Bit by painful bit I dragged myself out of the pit of misery that had been my life for so very long. Every day is a new day, a better day. Some days I am on a high, some days on a low. But everyday I move forward. Trying harder, learning something new. I fight every day to heal and become the person I know myself to be. Each night before I sleep I reflect on the things I did right, the things I didn’t and how I can do better the next day.

What does safety actually look like when everything feels too much?
For me safety is knowing when I start to falter, there is someone there who always has my best interest at heart.
The feeling of safety is when I become emotional he guides me to recenter and refocus.
Safety is him reminding me not to stay in the darkness too long and always holding the lantern to lead me back to the path when I wander.
Safety is when I close my eyes, I can feel his presence even when he isn’t near me and that presence both calms and comforts me.

Looking in the mirror and what looks back at me. A woman with haunted eyes.

Do I dare look deeper? See beyond the makeup, behind the mask? Or do I allow my triggers to shatter the mirror, so I don’t have to meet my fears face to face?

Or do I finally take the chance to truly look and say….I see you.

Closets full of clothes mocking me with their mere presence. Hinting at a life long gone. Each item a memory from long ago. Business attire, blazers, skirts, dresses taunting me from the hangers. I run my fingers along the material and remember. I remember the functions, the charity galas, going in to work. And then I look down at what I am wearing; sweatpants and an oversized tshirt with fuzzy socks. I sigh as I turn away, making my way to my prison cell/ home office. There my three computer screens await. My life, the four walls of my office. The silence broken by my fingers tapping against the keyboard. My heart grows cold, my brain numb as I pull up yet another document to work on. My life reduced to this small home, jaunts to the gym, going for a walk or to the grocery store and occasionally seeing my grown children. Longing for meaningful conversation outside the confines of work. I turn yet again to look at my closet full of clothes as a single tear makes its way down my cheek.

When she is left alone to her own devices with too much time on her hands, her mind begins to wander. She starts imagining things and falling down the rabbit hole. Doubt, loneliness and mistrust begin to seep in. She needs to feel wanted, cherished, needed, to feel both emotionally connected and mentally challenged. Silence is her kryptonite. Dismissal and coldness cause her to turn into herself. The walls begin to rebuild for protection.

When she is left to her own devices, she feels lost. This previously confident and independent woman starts to question everything she thinks about herself. Her self-esteem and self-worth take a beating and she is left afloat with no sense of direction and no lifeline. 
And the fear and anger build. Pressure building until it explodes in the worst way possible. 

When you lie awake in the darkness imagining servicing your Master. His hand upon your throat, his teeth scraping against your nipple, it sends a shiver down my spine. 

When he pushes you beyond your experience and you feel overwhelmed in the moment, but when it has passed you feel elated knowing your Master is pleased with your submission.

And on the rare occasions when he gifts you with the phrase you long to hear, “Good Girl”, your heart burst with joy.

And yet here I lie in the stillness of the night, wearing his shirt for comfort, missing his control, longing for his dominance and  praying for sleep to calm my body and mind. And still my mind always wanders to him. My body aches for him, my ears longing to hear his voice. But to no avail. Sleep eludes me as I lie here in the dark, staring at the ceiling lost in musings.

I often wonder if people actually read a person’s profile anymore? Especially when they clearly state that they are owned. And they have asked ever so politely to be respectful of that relationship. And yet they still send dick pics describing what they would like me to do with it. Or they want to still attempt to “lure” this poor little submissive away from their Master. 
Whatever the reasoning, let’s be clear. Your  unsolicited pictures are not welcome. I am very happy with my Dominant and would never dream of disrespecting him by flirting with another Dominant. Have some class gentleman. And I use that term loosely. 
I am not talking about individuals that I previously interacted with, who respect my relationship. I am talking about those who I have had no previous communication with that seem to think it is okay to contact me in a familial way. It is not appreciated.