Hidden In Plain Sight

'When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.'

~Billy~ age 4

‘What you do makes a difference. You just have to decide what kind of difference you want to make’…

Superhero name: Atomic Boom ?

Superpower: Inner critic fairy. Sprinkling fairy dust of unconditional love onto the inner critic to silence it and bring ourselves back to that place of belief and hope in ourselves and others ? 

Something I used to say quite often was how much I hated drama. And yet, somehow I would always find myself involved in it. Fighting against… something… the world, people in it, life… whatever. I attracted people who loved it, and I couldn’t work out why. Of course, I blamed them.

Until one day I dug a little deeper.

I realised that I had (and still do to a lesser degree, because boy does it run deep) an addiction to drama. I didn’t necessarily want to be involved in it directly, but a part of me still thrived off the energy and conflict created. That part that was scared of being “boring” or being “bored” or what I see more clearly now… was terrified of the unknown. Peace.

I have not really had a life that has shown me what peace looks like. Internal peace. The kind that simply allows you to sit with yourself or others without a need for distraction. The kind that brings space to both inside and out without it feeling empty. The kind that allows room to just breathe. To simply be.

The more I find this space, and become used to it, interestingly, the less affected by “drama” I am. I observe, and allow those who still find a thrill from it to go about their way. To a much lesser degree do I feel a need to have an opinion or make a judgement, nor become involved. I simply accept with understanding.

So, why this writing?

Today I decided to share. Obviously the recent turmoil here has brought these thoughts to the surface. I like to be able to reflect on where I once was, and where I am now. And to share that for others who may relate. I guess in a way it becomes painful to watch others with the same struggles I’ve known so intimately. Perhaps it’s a breadcrumb. A suggestion that it doesn’t have to be a way of life, getting stuck there. There can be a way out, a way forward.

However, for someone like me, I realised not too long ago, that can be a terrifying thought too. It truly is an unknown to try to imagine a life that *feels nourishing*. Even though I’ve always believed it’s what I want, looking back I can see I’ve always stuck with what felt familiar. Always dragging along that little safety net of chaos. Strange, I know.

I’m currently in the process of picking up all the balls I’ve dropped during the last few months of stress and struggle. Unfortunately when life hits hard, I tend to drop things one by one as the overwhelm builds… and although logically I know it makes things worse, usually the first to go is self-care. And then I have to wait. Wait until I can find the space to pick just that one ball back up again… because that’s the big one. That’s the central one from which everything else falls into place. Although it’s still super tough, I try to no longer berate myself for not coping. I try to give myself grace. I try to allow those who love me, to share their words of support, and tuck them into my heart. I try to remember each baby step to the way back because I now understand I don’t have to stay there. I have the tools. I know how to find that peace again, because once you know it you can’t unknow it. And I remind myself that the chaos I’m feeling, and reacting to, is actually inside.

Today is the first day…

May you find your journey to inner peace also. Sending lots of love to those who need it ?

Sometimes it’s difficult to remember when we’re right in the middle of the shitstorms that life throws at us at times, that “this too shall pass.”

Finally, beginning to come out the other side, I can stop and take a moment to just… breathe. 

Seeing that a few people are going through their own shitstorms at the moment, now that I can, I just wanted to send some love…

? 

Hard Sun 

(lyrics by Eddie Vedder)

When I walk beside her, I am the better man
When I look to leave her, I always stagger back again
Once I built an ivory tower, so I could worship from above
When I climbed down to be set free, she took me in again
There's a big, a big hard sun
Beating on the big people
In the big hard world
When she comes to greet me she is mercy at my feet
And when I see her bitter charm, she just throws it back at me
Once I dug an early grave to find a better land
She just smiled and laughed at me, and took her blues back again
There's a big, a big hard sun
Beating on the big people
In the big hard world
Oh, there's a big, a big hard sun
Beating on the big people
In the big hard world
When I go to cross that river, she is comfort by my side
When I try to understand, she just opens up her hands
There's a big, a big hard sun
Beating on the big people
In the big hard world
Once I stood to lose her when I saw what I had done
Bowed down and threw away the hours of her garden and her sun
So I tried to warn her, I turned to see her weep
40 days and 40 nights, and it's still coming down on me
There's a big, a big hard sun
Beating on the big people
In a big hard world
Oh, there's a big, a big hard sun
Beating on the big people
In the big hard world
Oh, there's a big, a big hard sun
Beating on the big people
In the big hard world
Oh, there's a big, a big hard sun
Beating on the big people
In the big hard world
There's a big, a big hard sun
Beating on the big people
In the big hard world
Oh, there's a big, a big hard sun
Beating on the big people
In the big hard world
There's a big, a big hard sun
Beating on the big people
In the big hard world
There's a big, a big hard sun
Beating on the big people
In the big hard world
There's a big, a big hard sun
Beating on the big people
In the big hard world

This movie (Into the Wild), but especially this song, hits my vagabond (I call myself more of a “stray”) bones (vagabones? ?), deeply. Every time I listen to it, I want to hit the road… because it stirs such a deep feeling of freedom, and sense of belonging to something so much bigger than myself.

Acceptance can open new and unexpected doorways. As someone who tends to bleed all over the pages, I doubt it’s any secret that my relationship ended not too long ago.

It’s been messy.

Not in a malicious way. But in a human way.

We still love each other very much. And we just kept having moments of wanting to try again and again and again. But we kept coming to the same place. The same insurmountable place of realising we’re simply in very different places… or not compatible… or, whatever. The obvious fact is, we just don’t work together. It has been mostly me that has struggled with the acceptance of this. He’s much more pragmatic with matters of the heart.

Having said that, in a weird way we do fit. We are a team. A family. A mishmash of misfits that have ended up together (he, myself, and our furry human that would be absolutely mortified to learn she’s actually a dog ?lol).

The most recent time of “wanting to try again,” I gently reminded him of where we would end up again within a few weeks. I explained that although I love him and will support him and be by his side, it cannot be as “his.” I needed to close that door and stop waiting to be enough. We are so much better together with a little distance between us.

But…

I relented a few days later and said I wanted to try again too. To which he then reminded me. Lol.

Messy.

Pondering the situation, I finally found acceptance. And a beautiful realisation.

He is my best friend. And he’s a *great* best friend. And I am a *great* best friend to him.

We soothe each other’s souls with some kind of mutual understanding I’ve not encountered before. Perhaps because our wounds are so similar. Which too could explain our struggles when we’re too close.

With that little bit of distance we can relax and feel safe and appreciate the other for who we truly are. Without fear.

The struggle I’ve had is in recognising the behaviours I carry that contributed towards our undoing. I kept thinking that if only I could just “fix” myself fast enough we’d be ok. That’s no way to live. And that’s no way to love. And that’s certainly no way to feel safely loved.

And, it’s simply not true.

There is no time schedule. Nor should there be pressure to have one. That was just my stubbornness and denial.

After a wonderful conversation with my sister recently, I decided to make a pact with myself. She said I’m much better in relationships than I am out of them. I thrive in a relationship, yet when on my own, I kind of become dormant. Like I’m simply waiting. The truth of this hit hard. I’ve actually never before felt so seen. And to be honest, as much as a part of me loved that. A part of me also, didn’t.

I’m not the type of person who has ever just wanted to focus on my strengths. Rather, I prefer to find my weaknesses and strengthen them. I don’t know why. And it has made for a life of not really experiencing many moments that don’t involve struggle. The drive for wholeness is stronger than the need for comfort I guess.

So… the pact. No focus on any potential for a relationship for at least a year. I want to spend time alone. Truly alone. No “back-up plan.” No online. Nothing. Just me. Friends, of course. Friends, with no agenda.

The first thing I felt?

Fear, of course. Then, strangely, relief.

I had no idea how much I had begun somewhere along the lines of placing my value and worth on whether or not someone else wanted me. Yikes. Which of course was adding to my already diminishing self-esteem that I had left behind somewhere in my thirties.

It has been suggested I’ve been punishing myself. I think there’s an element of truth to that. I also think there’s a lot more. But it doesn’t matter anymore.

New journey. New path. New adventure.

I asked my sister to hold me accountable. So the next time I run to her gushing about some guy (because of course I will!), I’ve asked her to remind me of my promise to myself.

‘What if you meet the one?!’ First question everyone asks. Also the first question I asked myself (aren’t we just such beautifully hopeless romantics? ?).

‘Well, if I meet the one… they’ll understand,’ I said to both myself and others.

I understand so much better now how time means very little more than the emphasis we place on it. I am happy. I can be happy alone. My value, when I meet another, won’t come from having them in my life. But it will be wonderful to want to, and know I can, share it with them in a way that doesn’t come from a place of thinking that it does.

Lounging like a lizard, legs…

Something slightly more exotic, legs…

‘I wanted so very desperately to please you,’ she said.

‘And I tried so humiliatingly hard.’

‘But it was never enough.’ ‘I could never be enough.’

‘So I gave up.’

‘We can’t have a D/s relationship… but I still need a Master.’

‘Without a Sun to revolve around, I am lost.’

‘You want me in your life. You want something from me. Something I have never figured out because it seems you like so little about me. Except my heart and my loyalty. And perhaps the fact I was willing to give it to you so freely, with such little in exchange.’

‘You’ve made me strong.’

‘You’ve made me realise I can walk through this world alone.’

‘But you’ve also made me realise that I don’t want to be with someone who teaches me I can walk alone.’

‘I want to be with someone who teaches me I don’t have to.’

I’ve not written anything fun in quite some time, so figured it time to share again. Hope you enjoy ?:

‘Bend over,’ He says.

‘Straighten your back. Stick your ass out.’

‘Mmmm, yes… just like that.’

‘Your ass looks great like this.’

A little wiggle, happiness at His praise, spills out of my body.

‘Stay still!’ He says firmly.

I do. Immediately feeling that familiar tingle at the sternness in His voice.

I stay there, listening intently, awaiting further instruction. It doesn’t come. He simply goes back to what He was doing.

So I settle in and concentrate on maintaining this posture. Every posture seems easy at first. Until it has to be held. But I know this one well. It is my caning stance.
So many thoughts try to race through my mind, wondering where this is going, images pushing for a chance to have centre stage. I slow everything down and simply wait. Waiting is what I do best. That delicious elixir of anticipation, working its way through my body.

As always, I don’t need to reach between my legs to know what’s happening there. But I do like to. That delight in finding the ways in which my body displays its ripeness are always like opening that first birthday present.

But I don’t move.

Instead I listen.

He’s gaming. There’s something so disturbingly satisfying in being put on display and then ignored for something so mundane. He certainly knows how to push all my buttons. Sometimes I wonder if He actually knows how well He targets them, or if it’s simply dumb luck. I kind of like not knowing. Is He conscious of the power He has over my body?

Suddenly I realise He’s behind me. He pushes Himself against me, and then steps back and runs His hands over my ass cheeks.

Mmmm those hands.

I try not to melt like goo under His touch. It takes all my concentration to stay still as His hands explore. Around, up, down, between my thighs. Careful to never give me what I want. What I crave.

He pushes against me again, grabbing my hips. That tease! I’m aching to feel Him inside me… and He knows it.

‘Mmmmm, good girl,’ He says with a growl. Oh, that growl. Gets me every time. The low simmering of desire, combined with that controlled need and urgency. It always ignites the primal urge in me. Wanting Him to claim what’s His, and drive Himself into me without thought.

I soften back into Him. Silently pleading. “Please, Sir. Please enter me. Please fuck my brains to oblivion.” But I say nothing. My body speaking for itself. Internally I say a little prayer that it’s speaking loud enough!

He pulls His cock out and rubs it over my ass, before guiding Himself into me. Hallelujah. (He has been known to end more than one session right there and then, leaving me wanting and needy. So I never know how much He will give me). My body gratefully leans back into Him, trying to savour every thrust, encouraging Him deeper and deeper.

Grabbing my hair, and without stopping, He directs me towards the kitchen bench where He pushes me forward over it and wraps Himself around me. Pounding.
Splayed over the bench, my hands reach out for traction, as my breasts dance around against the countertop at just the right angle for my nipples to lightly graze with each movement. Mmmm, the delicious feeling spreads through my whole body as I try to maintain my foothold.

He releases my hair and orders me to turn around, drop to my knees, and suck my juices from Him. I do, immediately. Again, that internal jolt of pleasure at how well He finds my buttons. I suck and lick with fervour, lost into the moment. His delicious cock the centre of the universe.

But He’s not done. Grabbing my hair again, He pulls me to my feet, bends me over the countertop again, and begins preparing to enter my ass. I reach around and spread myself wide, helping, filled with excitement. That first moment of entry is unlike anything. I almost purrrrrrr.

‘Get on your knees,’ He orders. I do. Face up, mouth open, tongue out. Just as He likes. His groans as hot cum spurts onto my face and tongue, bring a deep satisfaction. I watch and listen and taste and drip. An uncontrollable smile beginning to form at the edges of my mouth.

He looks down at me as I gaze adoringly up at Him. A gentle finger traces down the side of my face as He whispers, ‘Good girl. Now clean me up.’

Back when tiger’s smoked (my new favourite term for “once upon a time”… yes, it’s actually a legitimate saying lol), there was a phrase I came across in a book.

‘Kina palirra.’

In the culture of this particular Aboriginal community (“tribe”), the term ‘I love you’ is seen to be possessive and is therefore not used. Instead, kina palirra is used. It translates roughly as,

‘You are here. That is enough.’

From the moment I read these words, my heart said, ‘yes! this is truth.’ This is the type of expression of “love” that feels right for me.

When I got married, it was my intention to get those words tattooed on my hand… the hand that would hold his hand throughout our life together. However, it never happened. I was told the hand can’t be tattooed, and then over time couldn’t decide where else I wanted to place it, so it became a distant thought.

After my marriage ended, the thought continued that someday I’d get it done to honour our marriage (he is a wonderful man and although our journey didn’t continue together, that part of my life will always be special to me).

But, it never happened.

When I met my ex-Sir, I began contemplating it again as a representation of U/us. However, again, it didn’t happen.

When things ended between us, my ex-Sir gave me some money for my birthday, to spend on treating myself. I was a bit lost on what to use it for because I’m not really one to “pamper” myself in ways that cost money lol. But the idea came to me, and with such a resounding ’Yes!’ I was finally going to get that damn tattoo!

But this time… for me.

It was such a mind blowing realisation and shift in perception. That tattoo has been meant for me all along… waiting patiently until I could accept for myself that I am here, and that is enough ?

So, here it is (on my hand ?):

Sometimes things have a funny way of coming into being. More and more I’m learning to simply let go and trust in the process. 

Happy New Year, everyone. 
May you too realise that you are here, and that is enough ?