Tali’s Rants and What nots

I live in a collage town. Most of the events I go to are in college towns. The city I live in is a Big 10 school, if you follow sports. Needless to say we have a lot of students of all ages come and go. We have people who attend events while they are attending college and then go back home. Some just stick around. 

As I watch the events going on, I see more and more 18 year olds. Even some 19 year olds attend. Maybe I’m more biased because my daughter and her friends are venturing in as well. I don’t have a problem the younger, next generation coming in. They will set up the next section of this beautiful lifestyle once is older generation leave it. 

Here is my problem.  I am seeing more and more event organizers put an age limit on their events, their discord channels, etc. they are putting the age limit to 20 or even 21 years of age. I have a problem with this. You are telling the younger people they can’t learn. Even though this lifestyle says the age of 18 says you can. When there is limited events in your area, they are adding an age limit, where can they learn?

The 18 and 19 year olds have been practicing this already on their own in a not safe manner. A lot of the times I’m hearing about it. Due to their age, I couldn’t say a thing. Now, I can help them correct their mistakes. Where are they going to learn how to do these things properly if they can’t even be apart of something until their 20?  From the age of 16 or 17 til 20 years age they just got to figure it out.  

I just feel bad for those who can’t attend events now because they are a freshman in college. 

A week ago I went to the doctor for shoulder pain and some minor hip pain. After I had e rays done everything looks fine. They see it’s nothing but muscular and have to do with veins. Ok, great, now what? There isn’t anything anyone can do. They can just pump me full of meds. It’s not arthritis and it’s not bone, so it’s not really ortho.  

I watched my mom for years lose her mobility due to arthritis and just laziness. I say this because I’d she felt any pain or just didn’t feel like walking she would sit down and scoot around in a chair. Clear across the room she’d wheel in her chair.  I would say “you need to get up and walk across the room or you’ll lose your mobility”. She would say “yeah, we will see.”  I watched this for years. Then she would take this same chair and wheel it to wash clothes because she could. Slowly, her mobility went. Now, stairs were hard, walking was hard, and every movement became hard for her. She is now 70 years old. She has no balance, little to no mobility. She only walks now to go to the bathroom and walks to the car. Everywhere else she pretty much wheels around on her walker. 

I am 40 years old.  I have had knee problems my whole life. Due to twisting them so many times as a kid. I take stairs instead of the ramp going into a building when I can. I, do little things to make sure I keep my mobility.  I am so afraid of losing it. Being super plus size doesn’t always help.  I walked when I could. I rarely ask for help and I push through the pain when I am having pain days. 

Over the past two years pain hasn’t been my friend. I have had shoulder pain.  Pain to be so painful it hurts to move my arm.  Yet, I keep moving it when I can. Now, hip and upper leg pain.  This has been over the past couple of months. As I stated above, the doctors can’t do anything about it. Here I am still trying to take the damn stairs, park a little farther at work. Somehow try and walk and push through this pain. I have tears streaming down my face in hopes no one will see. I tell everyone I am fine.  I don’t want people to know, I’m hurting.  

I don’t want to lose mobility. Everyone has said I’d be like my mom.  As much irritation I have with her, I can understand to a point now why she would scoot. At the same time walking to me is so important. Why would you want to lose it?  This pain karma?  I don’t know honestly.  I have thought about that. All I know me trying to walk in the mornings is so painful the walls hold me up.  After I walk around a bit the pain lessens on my hip.

I’m  only writing this as documentation. A documentation of my journey with this pain. They are tossing fibromyalgia around too. Who knows what is going on. Now, I need to learn to kink with this pain.  

I have been asked over the course of the years “why haven’t you left the community?” I tell them “it’s in me”. I get funny looks and we move on with the conversation. It wasn’t until recently how much the community was in me. It is a life choice for me.

I joined the community in 2015. I have had many ups and downs along the way. I have tried to figure out my way. I even stumbled along. I even tried leaving the community a couple of times. I kept finding my way back here.

The first time I left was in June 2017. I turned off my fet page and any connection I had to kink. I closed off my kink friends, everything. I did it because of what happened the year prior and now, a divorce. I didn’t want my chances of getting my daughter to be jeopardized by the lifestyle. (I did win full custody of her BTW. ) I also, think I just needed a break from it all. I was told how to act and how not act. I was being told who I was and who I wasn’t. I wasn’t given a chance to figure it out on my own. I needed too.

In October 2017 I decided it was time to come back to the community. I needed an outlet. I joined some munches and trying to live this new life I had created. I had a new fet page. I started over. I started to attend the munches here and there. About every other month I was attending. Still to cautious to go every month.

By July 2018 I jumped in full force. I was way more active in my role in the community. I was attending two munches a month. I went where I felt safe. Even though I felt like I wasn’t safe due to personal matters. I was out there. Trying so many new kinks and fetishes. Learning how much kink was in me.

Jan 2020 before the pandemic hit I decided I would be attending my last munch the following month. I would walk away from the community yet again. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t deal with drama, the pain, the lies, everything that had surrounded me for nearly two years. My primal and my submissive side were strong. I couldn’t control them and I didn’t know what to do. I walked. I barely stayed on Fet just to help keep events posted in IL. I never attended. I didn’t want to. This wasn’t my life anymore. I didn’t want it to be my life.

When July 2020 came up I was realizing how much I needed to be tied. I needed that bondage time. I wanted to be played with. Now, being in a pandemic, this was not possible. I joined a rope class and learned some pretty awesome things. I started to pour wax myself too for fun. That killed the edge. It’s not filling the need I so craved.

After the restrictions were lifted I try to get to a local munch and get my ass spanked as much as I can. It helps calm my submissive for a bit. After last month, I noticed how much she really just wants to get out and play. I miss the hand around my throat, being called a good girl, being spanked, begging to cum, all of that. Even if it’s platonic still the hand around my throat, my hair pulled, being spanked, being called a good girl or a good kitten.

The longer I’m in this lifestyle the more I realize that I can’t take the bratty little out of me. I can’t take the submissive out of me. So many times I have a Dom friend do something. I automatically want to do it for them. I cant, since they have a submissive themselves. There are times being unowned is hard. Especially when the need of wanting to play is strong.

This writing is not an invitation for someone to message me and be like can we play. The answer is going to be no. Only time it’s not is, if we have already established connection.

With all of that being said, I don’t see myself leaving. I enjoy the community to much. It’s much apart of me. Every time I try and walk, I get drawn back. I find my happy place once again.

In therapy we have been working through my abuse. A lot of it in detail. As I continue on I am learning how to live outside of what I have been taught. I have to learn what healthy boundaries are and how to keep them in place. Which is something I never have done before. It was what I was taught.

The earliest time I remember my boundaries being crossed was when I was 13 years of age. When my boyfriend at the time would do something. I would be like “no”. He would continue said thing or get his friend to do said thing. I would laugh it off and just be like whatever. Again this happened at the ages of 14, 15, and even into 16 years of age. My boundaries were crossed. If I went to an adult and state they were crossed, what do I do. I was told I was lying and I’m imagining it. It was something else entirely. The most crucial years, no one told me about these things.

Let’s fast forward to 2001-2017. During these years I was married as many of you know who follow me. The mental, verbal, and emotional abuse I went through. Something I was realizing today is that he was raised to cross them and push til he got what he wanted. His whole family is that way. If you said no to anything, they would keep asking you the same thing til you said yes. Find other ways to manipulate you into feeling bad or guilty to get what they wanted. Am I excusing what he did? No, I am not. I am seeing a pattern that was formed.

So many times people who want to cross our boundaries benefit from us having lack of them. Those who respect them stand in front of them respecting you. They don’t push you. This is something is a hard lesson I am learning right now. It’s a lesson in life, I was never taught. Now, I am learning how to identify factors of when people are pushing, manipulating those boundaries, those who don’t respect the boundaries I set in place.

I am admin for some online kink groups. I am involved in FetLife and I attend munches in the real world. What I am noticing is when I say no to affection in real life that also means no to online affection. When I ignore the comments it’s not me giving you consent to do so. You are probably thinking “block the person”. Maybe you’re right. When you have never experienced something like this how am I supposed to know to keep my boundaries in place.

I wrote a thing a while back about my walls. I was talking to my therapist about that. He said think of those as your boundaries. If someone comes to you and asks you “how can I knock down your walls, is that healthy?” I had to think about that. In a sense that person would be saying “can I break down your boundaries? That isn’t ok. So, why would it be ok for one one to knock down my walls?

There has been two people I have allowed to break down walls. Where I have set different boundaries for. Two people who have known the most intimate parts of me. Parts I don’t share with others. I’m not talking sexual. Those people never pushed me to talk. Those people always just listened to me. Waited for me to go to them and talk. That’s how it should be.

For me, when I tell people I don’t want a boyfriend right now, I mean it. I shouldn’t have to set talking boundaries with people because they don’t want to listen. They just want to cross the line. They want to see and play with the line. How is that ok?

I am trying hard right now to learn where all of my boundaries lay. Especially with new people I interact with. I am trying to learn to keep them in place and not be manipulated into changing my answer or saying yes without me knowing. I just ask people respect my boundaries. If you can’t respect them then, I need to learn we aren’t friends or cant talk.

Consent is always key. No matter if you are online or in person. Boundaries are set for a reason. Boundaries are set to protect the person who set them. Not to make your life miserable. It only makes your life miserable when you can’t benefit from it.
 

Over the past few weeks I have had people ask me about my walls. Ask me why they are so high and people can’t get in. On top of the years of abuse I endured, people are mean and cruel.  I get my walls are high. I get they are too high for some people to reach.  If they are higher for you, then they aren’t for you to take down, honestly, stop trying. My abuse I’m so candid about is the assaults that I endured for years.  From sexual, to rape, to being molested.  Years of it from people I knew and I trusted.  What I never talk about, is the emotional abuse that I was left with.

I moved in with my ex-husband in 2001.  At first everything was fine. I was being groomed to be someone he wanted me to be, and I had no idea. I was being torn down and made to feel like shit so he could build me up like he wanted.  Im 2003 we were married and I thought things were ok. What I was told to be ok.  After we had our daughter, I started to see things. By now the grooming was already formed.  I was programmed and still being programmed for his liking.

When 2016 rolled around I was seeing the abuse for the first time. By now, we were living in separate rooms, I was being called a cheater and so many ugly things that were not true.  To just later find out he was the one doing those things. He needed someone to blame. Even after our divorce he still needs someone to blame, I am that person. 

I have scars on my body, I grow hair where I don’t want, I have extra weight, I have so many flaws like the rest of you.  So many times he would look at me and tell me how much he hated my scars. He wish I would do something about it. He would see my hair on my body and be disgusted by it. He saw my weight and was embarrassed to be seen with me.  

I remember eating at Cheddars one night. My meal got messed up and I had to send it back. He sat there ate his meal while our daughter ate hers. I had just my salad that was brought before my meal. That was it. They eventually brought back my meal, fixed this time, and I began to eat. Before I could even start eating. He looked at me and said “how can you be hungry?”  He had finished his meal and so had our daughter. I ended up packing up most of it to go that night. After we left, I tried to explain to him why I was hungry.  He just wouldn’t have it.  

We had gone to Culver’s one day. I ordered a large onion ring. If you ever been to a Culver’s they look way bigger than they really are. I got told “do you really need to eat that?” Just those two things alone are toxic and abusive behaviors to say to your wife. Really to anyone. The amount of damage that was done those nights, I’m still trying to heal from.  

So, many times it was about him and his needs. Where we went for my birthday or Mother’s Day. It was his choice, not mine. What we are, was never my choice, even if he tried to make it mine.  He turned it around to his idea with another location. 

Towards the end of my marriage I looked at him and I said “just because my thoughts and my feelings don’t match yours, doesn’t mean I am wrong.”  He looked at me dead serious and said “yes, it does mean you are wrong”

So, many times I asked him to defend me and he wouldn’t. So many times I asked him to walk next to me as we walked. He was so embarrassed of me. Too embarrassed to stand up for me or be seen with me. You wonder why I have trouble standing in a room naked for a scene.  You wonder why I have trouble believing kind words coming from your lips.

I had someone tell me that I wasn’t allowed to show weakness after my grandma died. I needed to be strong for my family. I had to be the strong one. Ever since that day I rarely cry. That was in 2017. I rarely cried anyway, but that, was the last straw. Another man telling me I needed to be strong and not show weakness through tears or any form like that. I wasn’t allowed to be little even behind closed doors. I wasn’t allowed to fall and collapse. 

To this day, even behind closed doors i'm still the strong one.  I rarely fall apart. It takes a very special person to see me fall apart behind closed doors.  Not many have seen that side of me. 

Here I am now, a leader of the community, showing vulnerability to you.  Trying to remind myself that it’s ok to be this person. It’s ok to shed a tear even if it’s in a scene. It’s ok to look up and cry in front of a crowd and no one will look down on me for it. The things I listed above are why I don’t. It’s something I am working on.  I am trying to show a community that leaders are human too. We all have feelings and emotions and it’s ok.  

One day, I will be able to get undressed in a crowd and be proud of my fluffy body. I will cry with no shame. When that day comes, it will be a glorious day. 

When I post my writings on FetLife I will cross post them to other platforms. I do that for many reasons, to educate the newcomers. Sometimes, it’s just a way to see how far I have come in this walk. In one of the forums I posted a writing. They were telling me that they find triggers in kink. It seriously got me to think about my own journey. Seriously, how I got, well, here today.

I have had triggers since I was 13 years old. I didn’t even know what it was. I experienced my first panic attack at that age. I was terrified. All I knew was my boyfriend at the time touched me, then I flipped out. From then on I had to learn how to deal with this trigger and now panic attacks.

Raise your hand if you like choking?
Yeah, me too. It can be a trigger for me. You probably have this curious look on your face right now. You may be thinking “if she likes choking, how can it be a trigger?” For me, it wasn’t always a trigger. I was choked til I blacked out at the age of 34 years old. The Dominant I was seeing thought he could scare me. He thought by choking me harder and harder I’d be scared enough then he’d let go. I never let into my fear. Instead I was choked til I blacked out.

At times it’s hard for a person to place their hand around my neck. Sometimes I’ll grab their wrists to stop them. It’s all reflex for me. They come forward and I grab them, now I’m safe.

Raise your hand if you like people to grab your wrists? For rope play or other types of play?
Yeah, me too. God, I love my hands cuffed in rope. If I hit subspace too deep while in rope I begin to freak out. I feel like I’m being drug our my front door again, not always. I work through this by telling the person I’m playing with “we have to negotiate you touching my wrists each time we play.” If we don’t negotiate my wrists being played with, I get triggered and badly.

What about the back of the neck?
Do you like your Dom grabbing your neck from behind to assert his Dominance over you. In this case I don’t. It brings up the time I was forced to class with my boyfriends, at the times hand around my neck pushing me to class. The bruises he left for people to find. No one believed me. On occasion someone will touch me there. I have to negotiate it like my wrists.

Triggers happen in this lifestyle. Sometimes when you least expect them.

Trauma and Rope:

https://talischaoticworld.blogspot.com/2022/03/trauma-and-rope.html?m=1

Knife Play… Hard Limit:

https://talischaoticworld.blogspot.com/2022/03/knife-play-hard-limit.html?m=1

I have those two writings which I wrote about when triggers happen when you least expect it. Both were very much growing opportunities for me. Triggers can be a hard thing to face while I’m a scene. The important thing to remember is have someone you trust 100% with no questions. Someone who can get you out of those triggers as quickly as you get in.

What worked for me, may not work for you. These are only a few things that had happened. I hope this brings you all some comfort that you are not alone in this journey.
 

Mental health and kink are becoming big right now. I am finding more and more people talking about it, unlike Bruno. We don’t talk about Bruno. (Sorry, it’s stuck in my head) I’m learning how a lot of us have dealt with some sort of trauma before we have gotten into kink. Some of us have had trauma in kink and use it to heal. At the end of the day, we all are healing from kink. I think it’s because of the release of the good hormones. Some of us hit supsace or Domspace. We get all floaty and have this natural high going.

As you continue to read this, I wanted to share with you where kink has helped me get through some tough times in my life. Why it’s a hard time for me to leave this lifestyle. Maybe one day I will. Maybe, I’ll be that old grandma still in the lifestyle. That will be the day my grandkids getting into it. (Don’t have yet)

When I started to become active in the scene it was in 2018. I had already released back in 2016 from being clean of self harm. I was trying to stay a year clean. I wasn’t there yet. Only just a few months. When the unthinking about happened. I was hurt in the lifestyle. For the first time I felt like people believed me. Some actually understood me. This was so new to me. My vanilla life this wouldn’t happen.

When I had my first scene with someone in July 2018. Holy shit, it was like everything was gone around me. My mind was clear. My mind was relaxed. I was learning new things.. From being tied up for the first time ever to so many other amazing things. I am so thankful that they happened.

As I went on in the lifestyle o had more and more scenes. At first I needed a lot of pain to calm my demons. I just didn’t know it at the time. People around me saw my demons getting quieter. They saw me getting happier. They were seeing it was taking less and less pain before I could call it.

Even rope and wax is some of my favorite things to do in this community. Which I do switch in both now. My mind relaxes so fast the moment I pick up the items. I feel the tension slowly leave my body. From being tied so tight to tying someone. It’s the same with wax. I love the first drop of wax to the last drip.

The thing with wax it feeds my self harm addiction. I started self harm when I was 12/13 years of age. It was after some bad things happened to me. When people take off wax they tend to use a knife. I use to freak the fuck out. It was because my demons would laugh and have such a beautiful time with it. What I didn’t know is that when someone else was taking off my wax they were also calming me. I learned in those times my demons want to play harder. I can outsmart them. I play with wooden knives instead lol. They hate it and just laugh at them. It’s a much safer and healthier way to play with wax and knives.

Here I am in 2022 looking back between 2016 and now. I can see how much I love TPE (total power exchange). I love that when I am in primal space. It lets me fight and be dominant for a moment and let out my aggression in such a healthy manner. Then let’s me be submissive at the end. Where I want to be at the end. I love that back and forth exchange. I don’t get to it that often.

My little space is like a huge reset button for me. It resets my whole mental health from being so overwhelmed. It only works when I can be little. Which is very hard for me too. Unless I’m on like 300mg of caffeine or more lol. Then I tend to be hyper bratty little lol

With all of this being said, kink helps me stay in check. I wish I had a play partner I could play with more than once a month. I love what I can get. It had helped a great deal for my mental health lately. Especially with all the work I have put in therapy.

Even though during this writing my ass still hurts from the other night. I sit here and smile. Remember how much I love this feeling. How much I love this community. I have felt so refreshed. I have felt so depressed the last several days. Like oober depressed. That had helped my brain get back in check. It’s because of all the Happy hormones released.

I’d you have stuck with me this long, thank you. I hope you have seen how this community and kink can work together for some. I hope it can bring you happy healing as it has me.

I walked into this lifestyle not like most people. Yes, I read 50 shades and it intrigued me. I didn’t do anything with the information until my ex-husband asked me for an open marriage. This was July 2015. By September 2015 we started to discuss things like FetLife and other means to be in the kink community. We heard through some people about a local dungeon. The weekend of September 19th, 2015, we attended our first munch and our first dungeon.

From there I fell in love in the community. I have written about my journey on here. From my first lifestyle experience to things that happened in 2018. Lots of little wins along the way. How amazing this journey has been.

What happened this weekend, was something I never thought would ever happen. The last time I was spanked as hard as I was, was in 2019. It’s been a minute since my body really endured that kind of pain. I took like a champ, so I think.

I had four people around me. I knew how hard two of them hit already from previous experiences. The other two I had no idea. Knowing one of them pretty well, I had an idea. I start to count 1…2…3….4.. it varies from soft to hard and everything in between. By smack 20 my eyes began to water. This was very new to me. I was wanting to cry. Not because it hurt. Shit, I was loving this pain. Having a wonderful time as I continued to count to 40. When the spanking was done I wanted to cry, yet I was fine. I didn’t and still don’t understand it. They asked if I needed a moment. I didn’t think I did. In all honesty, I probably should have taken a moment on the table to breathe and regain my thoughts. I didn’t.

I jumped off the table put my undies back on. Once I stood up from putting them on and tried to walk the subspace started to hit. A feeling I love very much. After a bit I noticed that it wasn’t going away but it was increasing. I was tripping over my own feet. I realized I needed a safe place to sit down and regroup.

What I am discovering is that the scene that I was exposed a scene that was intense. I was absorbing their energy. It was like I was getting a contact high of subspace. Best way to describe it. When I called someone to help think this through. They suggested that it’s probably the same feeling of someone heading to a big event. Since I never been to one, I don’t know.

Now, I’m anxious to see what is to come. Will these tears come all the time. It is just a one time thing? Who knows. It is going to be fun to figure this out. This new chapter in my kink life is going to be fun I think.

Over the past 6 months or so I have heard a lot about self collaring. What it means to people and how they wear it. I have been pondering this for sometime now. I have been getting peoples perceptions on why they do it. 

Since I was released I have struggled in many areas of life. I have struggled feeling like a submissive. I have struggled feeling like I belong. I wrote a poem recently called Darkness. On another forum I was able to attach a pic of how I felt. Even though I’m sitting there I still struggle. 

I struggle to belong

I struggle to be good enough in the community. Especially as a leader. 

I struggle to feel like I am a good enough employee to a sadist of a boss. 

I struggle to remember to take my meds on time and when to take them. 

I struggle with drinking water and basic self-care needs. 

At the end of the day, I feel alone as a submissive. A submissive who struggles to be heard, seen, loved, etc. No, a collar doesn’t do those things. It’s going to be the reminder to take care of me.  Be a better me. Remind me that I am the opposite of what I feel. 

When I was collared I didn’t have to think sometimes. I could pass on my burden to my Dom if they got to heavy. Right now I can’t do that. I don’t have one to pass on too. However, I know the collar will remind me that I am stronger than I am allowing myself to feel. To remind myself of the fire rose tattoo on my back. To remind me how resilient of a submissive I really am. In this lifestyle alone I have been through a lot. 

We all need that anchor.
I hope this lets someone know you are not alone. 

I walk into a dark abyss
I kneel
Head down
Palms on my thighs
I sit in silence
The only light is that shining on me
I try and listen
For anything
Yet, only silence surrounds me
I’m waiting for someone
Someone to walk up to me
Place their hand on my shoulder
Even kneel in front of me
Someone to tilt my chin
Force me to look at them
Tell me I’m a good girl
The loneliness is all I feel
The darkness is all I sense
Emptiness fills me
No one here
I sit and wait
Hoping
One day
Someone will come