One size doesn’t fit all

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.

Do I sometimes wish I could wake up every morning and look forward to serving my Dominant. I do. But that isn’t my reality. Instead, I cherish the time we do spend together. 
When I hear his voice it both calms and excites me. I find my mind constantly wandering to the times we are together and I smile. My body remembers his touch. The mere thought of him has my body reacting. Unfortunately, my mind has a habit of thinking of him at the most inconvenient of times. Not a fun thing to become aroused in the middle of a meeting or while working out in the gym, or while grocery shopping. 

At these times, I have to laugh at myself and think how in the world did I go from hosting charity events to becoming this needy little tramp whose mind wanders constantly to being my Dominant’s personal toy? 🤭 And realizing I am so much happier now.

I spent 28 years in a strictly Vanilla marriage. No toys, nothing outside of missionary. Any hint or word asking for more was met with derision. Being told those thoughts or desires were sinful or deviant. The one toy I had the courage to buy myself was thrown away and I was berated for purchasing such a thing. 
Ten minutes start to finish and him rolling over to sleep. Meanwhile, I lay there staring up at the ceiling unfulfilled. I became good at waiting g for him to sleep and in complete silence masturbating for release. But the bitterness grew, the longing for more.

I took a job that required that I travel out of state for months. Once again I bought myself a toy. The enjoyment I gleaned from it made me giddy. The contracts continued to come in 4 years on the road, children grown and nothing left binding me to a man who treated me as nothing more than an ATM. I finally found the courage to walk away. 
Shortly after that I made friends with someone in the lifestyle. He had his own submissive but encouraged me to explore. Even giving me websites to visit for research. I met someone, on one of these websites. We talked a bit and agreed to meet. He opened me to things I had never experienced before. Unfortunately, for reasons I cannot go into for his privacy it didn’t work out. But the experience had me craving more. Despite many obstacles I was facing in my life and with little to no experience in the lifestyle I went back on the site. I met a wonderful Dominant. I wasn’t exactly sure what to “label” myself. My test had me leaning toward “Switch”. I imagine if I take the test now it might be quite different. We change, we evolve. What struck me most was his voice on the phone. Strong, firm, commanding but with a definitive sense of protectiveness. 
I will honestly say I fell hard. Here is the thing, when you don’t truly understand the lifestyle you make mistakes that in a vanilla relationship may not seem like a big thing, but in a D/s relationship are critical errors. And those mistakes were deeply disrespectful.
For me I should have taken time to heal after my divorce. I should have better understood the lifestyle before jumping in. Through all this I have grown, I have learned. I have learned that every dynamic is different and as diverse as the people within the lifestyle. I have met some wonderful people in this lifestyle and some not so nice people as well. 
I am so thankful that I didn’t throw in the towel and walk away. I learn things about myself daily. I have an incredible Dominant that challenges me. That pushes me to be better, to become the confident, beautiful woman that he sees. I am forever grateful for his guidance. There is one thing I know for certain, I can never go back to a vanilla relationship. There is no turning back for me.

Trigger such a strange word don’t you think?

Defined it has multiple meanings:

part of a firearm or mechanism that initiates a firing or action when activated, or it can be a stimulus that causes a reaction, such as an emotional response or the recall of a traumatic memory. 

I have used firearms, being ex-military and a previous competitive rifle shooter I am very familiar with the trigger mechanism. Some triggers are so sensitive that the slightest touch would set them off. And yet if you think about it, just as the trigger of a firearm is the mechanism by which to start the process of discharging a weapon, a sight, sound, smell or action is the mechanism by which an emotional response occurs when recalling a traumatic memory. 

I open this blog not simply to discuss what those triggers might be. But how someone has overcome or lessened their responses to those triggers.

I have had so many traumatic events in my life. Apparently my sharing them became triggering enough to have my post suspended. 

That being said I open this forum as a means to help others who suffer from different types of past traumas and the triggers that may cause those memories to resurface. Here are a few of mine:

I am triggered by the smell of Drakkar, Grey Flannel and Old Spice Aftershave. I was assaulted by three men while serving. I remember their scent vividly. That mixed with beer and cigarettes has always been a trigger to the flashback of the assault. I cannot drink beer of any kind and I avoid any man who wears any of these colognes. The positive that came out of this is that I quit smoking.  
A secondary trigger for me is the covering of my head with a pillow or hood. This stems from the trauma of having a pillow placed over my face and also a bag when I was assaulted. The thought of a hood over my head has caused me severe anxiety. This one I recently chose to face head on. With the help of a deeply caring and patient Dom, I was able to place a hood over my head. His soothing voice patiently talked me through it. Using humor he distracted me and was able to regulate my breathing so I didn’t have a full blown panic attack. I am grateful for his guidance.

I have many other triggers, but these are two major ones for me. I open the floor for others to share.