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Hidden In Plain Sight

The philosophies and adventures of a girl, just trying to make her way in the world.
“I’ve done every damn thing in the book wrong”... this is the story of that journey.
4 days ago. Sep 20, 2021, 4:48 AM

I will tear You apart.

I will shred Your masks.

It will hurt.

It will be painful.

It will be confronting.

And You will hate me for it.

And You will love me for it.

 

The promise I will give You in return is…

me.

All. Of. me.


You will tear me apart.

You will shred my masks.

I will hurt for You.

I will bare my pain to You.

I will crawl in my vulnerability for You.

And I will hate You for it.

And I will love You more than I’ve ever loved anyone for it.

 

You want real?

I will give you real.

4 days ago. Sep 19, 2021, 1:07 PM

When I first began suspension, I had envisioned that it would simply be like floor work but suspended… like a pretty marionette doll. I was in for a shock. It hurts, it’s uncomfortable and it’s damn hard work. What? What the? She must just be saying that because she’s unfit and out of shape.

Yeah… I thought that too.

Funny thing is, as I get fitter and in better shape… and more experienced as a bunny… the greater the appreciation I gain for what we do. It requires a lot of core strength to maintain strenuous positions during transitions. It requires knowledge to know what is good discomfort and what is bad discomfort. It requires a lot of mental strength in moments of uncertainty or worry. It requires trust, communication, self-awareness, honesty and humility. In other words, it requires education and training, on your own time, outside of sessions.


I jumped into rope with such naivety, even though I did it slowly and with experienced guidance. I had a belief that it would be easy. I had a belief that discomfort was a choice and simply depended on the style. I misunderstood what the relationship was. 
I have had to learn to simply accept that I will hurt for my Rigger to be able to perform his art. I have had to learn patience while he does what he does. I have had to learn how to explain the many different ways in which discomfort can present. I have had to create a relationship with my body, listening intricately to what it tells me… before, during, and after our rope sessions. I have had to learn to honour my body each and every time I step under that anchor point… respecting precisely where it is on that day, in that moment. Not where it was yesterday or last week. And I have had to learn to voice these things without ego, guilt or shame. I have learned to live in the moment. To let go and simply breathe. Simply listen. Simply feel.

There is magic in rope. But it doesn’t come without the cost of some sweat.

4 days ago. Sep 19, 2021, 11:20 AM

I am an incurable romantic

I believe in hope, dreams and decency

I believe in love,

Tenderness and kindness.

I believe in mankind.

I believe in goodness,

Mercy and charity

I believe in a universal spirit

I believe in casting bread

Upon the waters.

I am awed by the snow-capped mountains

By the vastness of oceans.

I am moved by a couple

Of any age – holding hands

As they walk through city streets.

A living creature in pain

Makes me shudder with sorrow

A seagull’s cry fills me

With a sense of mystery.

A river or stream

Can move me to tears

A lake nestling in a valley

Can bring me peace.

I wish for all mankind

The sweet simple joy

That we have found together.

I know that it will be.

And we shall celebrate

We shall taste the wine

And the fruit.

Celebrate the sunset and the sunrise

the cold and the warmth

the sounds and the silences

the voices of the children.

Celebrate the dreams and hopes

Which have filled the souls of

All decent men and women.

We shall lift our glasses and toast

With tears of joy.


~Leonard Nimoy~

4 days ago. Sep 19, 2021, 8:32 AM

‘You’re too hard on yourself.’

I get told this a lot. There’s a part of me that doesn’t comprehend how that’s possible though. How will I be my best if I’m not? This is the part that grits her teeth and puts her head down and “gets things done.” This is also the part that drives me to “do it right,” and tears me to shreds if I don’t. This is also the part that hurts me just because. Sabotages anything good, and pushes against anyone trying to get close.

My Protector.

She’s a hard, mean bitch. Impossible to please.

My Dragon.

Most of the time she sleeps. However, sometimes she stirs. Sometimes someone awakens her. I try to explain how to appease her or work around her. I try to plead with her and win them brownie points. But it rarely works. She trusts no one. Equally. As long as they’re “out there” at a safe distance, all is good.

My Gatekeeper.

Most of the time I can accept this. Sometimes I get lonely. On rare occasions my heart aches. Once in a blue moon my soul yearns.


Last night, watching some of our “old school” community members emerge from the shadows to come out and play, I watched in awe at the beautiful connection they each shared with their significant other. It has been easy to forget that my soul yearns for that connection, because it had been so long since I’d been witness to the type of intimacy that goes beyond kinky play. However, there it was, and it brought tears to my eyes. Beautiful tears, and tears of longing. A longing for something that somehow my heart recognises but my flesh is yet to feel. Magic. I got to watch magic being created. As much as my own desires tried to shine a light on themselves, I am so grateful to have been witness to everything I believe within this lifestyle. Everything I imagined and hoped for. To see it with my own eyes and know that it’s real. It had begun to feel like something I had perhaps long ago dreamed one night in a distant memory somewhere in someplace in another life.


Some of my most profound moments in life have been both magical and heartbreaking both at the same time. It hurts. But it hurts good. It hurts real. It awakens me and jogs my memory as to where that path is that I had gotten distracted from. It reminds me that beneath all this undergrowth and bramble and weeds that seem to have accumulated without me realising, there exists a land. A place where dreams exist in reality. A place where hope is nourished. A place where love is worn like a gentle reminder. A place where even my Dragon believes. 

1 week ago. Sep 11, 2021, 2:09 PM

3 weeks ago. Sep 1, 2021, 3:27 PM

1 month ago. Aug 19, 2021, 12:21 AM

I want to be Your favourite toy…

1 month ago. Aug 14, 2021, 2:00 PM

1 month ago. Aug 13, 2021, 1:54 AM

It was May, 2017, that I first arrived here all starry-eyed, believing I was ready to find my forever home. Newly separated, feeling like a dying plant receiving nourishment for the first time in its life.

Seen. Heard. Validated.

That combination is a lethal trifecta.

Falling in love. Heart break. Ever so slowly learning to open through those cracks. The art of being vulnerable to another. The painful journey of removal of all that I am not. The uncomfortable journey of accepting all that I am.

This has been my story.

There have been many hero’s. And one King. All of whom wear the scars. Helping battle and slay demons and dragons. Their sacrifice of time, patience, effort, guidance, love, support… themselves, will never go unheeded. Taught to trust the process of standing on the shoulders of giants.

Four years it has taken me to find myself standing here. Looking into this vast abyss of hope. Nothing wasted. No regrets. Every tear, word, thought, moment… a blessing. Somehow always trusting there would be something good to come of it all. Always believing it was leading me home. Always hoping my heart knew the way, even if I didn’t.

I truly didn’t understand what surrender meant, because I had never really opened myself. Not beyond my control. The King taught me that. He taught me discomfort. And what a gift that was. It is in my undoing… my unravelling… that I know I am truly handing over power. I have been taught that it doesn’t stay like that forever. When He put my pieces back together, it felt different, like a new skin. Once it wore in a bit, I saw that it fit better. Moved more freely. Felt more at ease. I came to see that His vision knew me better than I knew myself. He took away the parts I’d outgrown. The parts too big or too small. The parts put there by others. The parts put there by myself that didn’t need to be there. The parts that simply didn’t make sense to keep anymore. The parts that never made sense.

Once so polished. Not so polished anymore. Worn. Raw. Tattered and torn. Similar to the severely overdone quote… more Real than I’ve ever been… but in my own words, even if they’re not perfect.

This has been a long journey for me. At times I’ve considered giving up… but never going back. There can be no going back. This has not been a journey of becoming. This has been a journey of un-becoming. Discovering all of those things I believed I was, and removing them. Finally allowing myself to be seen in all my humanness. Finally allowing my voice to be heard in all its uncertainty. Finally allowing my self to come through in all its muchness. I knew this was my journey. I knew I couldn’t give myself to another until I actually existed. And here I am. 

1 month ago. Aug 8, 2021, 2:33 AM

Recently, I overheard a mother and daughter in their last moments together at the airport as the daughter's departure had been announced. Standing near the security gate, they hugged and the mother said:"I love you and I wish you enough."The daughter replied, "Mom, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Mom." They kissed and the daughter left.The mother walked over to the window where I sat. Standing there, I could see she wanted and needed to cry.I tried not to intrude on her privacy but she welcomed me in by asking, "Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?" "Yes, I have," I replied. "Forgive me for asking but why is this a forever good-bye?""I am old and she lives so far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is the next trip back will be for my funeral," she said.When you were saying good-bye, I heard you say, "I wish you enough." May I ask what that means?" She began to smile. "That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone." She paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail and she smiled even more. "When we said 'I wish you enough' we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them". Then turning toward me, she shared the following, reciting it from memory…

"I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye."

She then began to cry and walked away.They say it takes a minute to find a special person. An hour to appreciate them. A day to love them. And an entire life to forget them.

 

*not my story, just came across it and wanted to share.