Hidden In Plain Sight

Standing in your own way:

Sometimes our struggle can make things look bad in the eyes of others. And when we try to explain our struggle, it can make things look worse. More often than not, our friends and family will band together with us in support and tell us it’s not us, it’s the Other.

But… what if it’s not? Or what if it is more that it’s both of you breaking it together?

Not long ago I met a Man. Things felt so right. Despite my years of preparing myself and creating a list of wants and needs and expectations and an image of how I thought everything would be, jumping in faster than anyone was happy with, I then also methodically let go of almost all of the “standards” I had put in place. Needless to say, this alarmed everyone around me. ‘What are you doing?!’ they kept asking. “To be honest, I don’t know,” I would reply. Yes… He wasn’t what I had said I wanted. He is far from perfect. He is messy and immoral and selfish. He smokes and drinks and is unfit and unhealthy. He knows nothing of protocol and isn’t particularly active within the BDSM community. To the naked eye, He is almost the complete opposite of everything I had put in place of what I wouldn’t accept less than. And yet, there was something my heart saw in Him enough to say, “Him… I choose Him.”

The things that aren’t so obvious is that He is loyal and He is kind and He is selfless in ways that matter to me. He fights for what He believes in. He protects what’s His, and what’s His is family. He is loved. And He is loved by amazing people. That tells me a lot. He accepts flaws… both in Himself and others. Mostly though? He makes me laugh. He makes me feel good… and bad. There is something natural about how His dominance… or more… His essence… reaches into me, and I simply can’t find the words to explain it. These things… these subtle things that can’t be seen unless one pays attention and looks beyond the obvious… those are the.things. Those are the things I love about Him. The things I couldn’t put words to. The things that despite our struggles, make me want to keep trying. He is worth fighting for. What I didn’t realise was that the war was within myself.

He triggers the shit out of me. This journey with Him has been so challenging, I can no longer count the times I’ve almost walked away. And vice versa for Him. In fact recently we did end things. But here I am, sitting on His lounge once again… this very lounge where not that long ago I felt I had found a home, contemplating everything. I was worried about Him being alone, and funnily enough He was worried about the very same for me. So we had a very real conversation. And then we had another one. And another one. We were finally honest about everything. Who knew there could be levels to honesty? And then we spent a day together as friends. And it was awesome. I realised what I had been missing by carrying this idea that my mind had created of what M/s and myself as a slave, and He as a Master, “should” look like. I was missing out on sharing the best parts of me with Him. And I was missing out on seeing the best parts of Him. Because there was a veil of “should” shrouding everything my eyes looked upon between us. It occurred to me that this whole time, the struggle has been Him trying to strip away an idea I had created and was fighting tooth and nail to keep. A plan that needed to be stuck to… no matter what. Even at the cost of us.

Being with Him has made me question everything. Everything. Especially myself as a slave. I realised that for me it’s not about the frills… it’s about the person. I realised that despite everything I have said here over the years, I will gladly let go of all of it to conform to what He asked of me. That is how I am as a slave. It doesn’t matter to me how it looks to others. I don’t care if we seem vanilla. If He is my Master, I will know it, deep in my bones. Deep in the places that matter to me, and hopefully to Him. The complete irony of it all is that all He has been asking of me is to be myself… my real self… not an idea of how I think I should be.

During this journey I have reached out to everyone I know and love and respect and cherish, seeking guidance. Because I knew this was what I really wanted, and I knew I was fucking it up. I could see it all slipping through my fingers, and had no idea how to stop that from happening. I even went to those I figured would tell me to pull my head in. That didn’t happen. Finally I went to a beloved friend. And she gave me precisely what I needed. Help. Help in the way I needed. She gave me guidance to look at what I needed to take responsibility for, and the kick in the butt to let go of what needed to be let go of. Her wisdom astounds me. And it has shown me the value of having the right support. Those who understand and know intimately what it’s like for your specific journey. Those who will hear that you don’t want to give up just yet, so will stand in your corner, even if it may be a mistake.

He and I are not back together. Officially. But we have something. We are trying to create our own something. We are letting go of how it “should” look. How we “should” be. And we are just being us. And I have to say, it feels great! In so many ways He has brought me back to life. Brought me back into the world. The “me” I had forgotten about, and thought I couldn’t bring on this journey. I hadn’t realised how small I had made myself… that I was disappearing. How can I not love Him for that?

I am letting go of expectations and a need for outcome. I’m just going to enjoy myself for a while and see where life takes me.

Yes, I see the hypocrisy in it all. Believe me I see it. I have turned my back on everything I have said over the years. The box I had created for myself. I’ve changed my mind. And to be honest, I’m trying to learn to no longer judge myself so harshly for changing my mind in life. I didn’t realise that what was making me so exhausted was trying to stick to a plan that I had created in my mind of how everything needed to be. Tending daily to the “story.” Even if things don’t work out between us, I feel more free than I have in a long time. Am I a slave? Many would now say, no. And to be perfectly honest… I’m ok with that. It is not a community that I kneel to. It is one Man. And I will kneel however He wants me to… if He wants that of me. Perhaps that makes me more of a free-range slave 😊

And had to share it:

*this is not my writing*

‘What works for us’

‘So many times I keep hearing or getting variants on the question, "How do you make it work?"
My answer in a nutshell is this:’

‘We ask for what we need and negotiate for what we want, we're as honest as we know how to be on every issue, we listen intently and with kindness, love unreservedly, and forgive ourselves and each other when we make mistakes.’
 

Sometimes it’s the simplest wisdom that has the most profundity.

We agreed that it is O/our desire to have more than one female serving Him as O/our household. Not common, I know. I don’t speak in the context of a “poly” household… it is a “harem”… yes, a very dirty word in this way of life. It has taken me quite some journey to not feel ashamed of wanting this. It always catches judgement on the tendrils of the BDSM community online, and I’ve come to accept that that’s simply something I can’t control, nor am I going to give it any more energy or focus than is necessary. Those who are genuinely curious will learn for themselves, and those who simply want to judge will always judge regardless of what I share. So… c’est la vie.

He’s kind of been looking, but not really. Not to the point of anything becoming real. A girl here and there almost turned to meets, but they always fell through for some reason… none quite compatible. Everything is on the table. Whilst I’m not privy to their private exchanges and conversations, I know that if I ask, He will show me (I don’t ask), however, He always tells me of the girls He’s speaking with, the general way in which the conversation is going, and shows me their profile.

Last night everything shifted. He showed me her profile and my heart sank. They are super, super compatible. Like, in every way. Not only that… I know she meets so many of His preferences. There was a pang… a panic that slowly arose somewhere deep in my soul. It didn’t feel like jealousy. It felt like loss. I realised that despite the hard work and effort W/we have put in to building this beautiful thing W/we have together, there are some things that simply can’t be overcome. And fate or serendipity or just the basic *rightness* of two people, is something that no amount of anything can “artificially” create.

I stalked her profile for about an hour, looking at all of her activity, words, pictures… just to get a “vibe.” And the conclusion was the same… she is perfect for Him.

Fuck.

I really, really, really didn’t want to face it. But I knew if I didn’t I would just slowly retreat and push Him away until there was a good enough reason for me to say “see? we won’t work.” Basically, I could feel myself pulling my running shoes down off the shelf.

I don’t know about you, but having to face myself as not being enough, is super horribly difficult. Soul shattering actually. I realised that I go above and beyond because I truly do not want to see that at times, as I am, and even *who I am*, is not enough. Under the right circumstances, we all fall short. And I simply can’t believe that any person is so important that we should overlook the realistic and important aspects. Also, there is absolutely no way that I could consider myself more important than someone finding their happiness. So I had to sit with the realisation that no matter what, I can never be everything. Something I thought I had accepted… yet clearly, had not really, on a deep level of understanding and acceptance.

Sitting in the discomfort and simply observing what was there with curiosity, something strange occurred. I realised that it’s ok.

It is perfectly ok for me to not be the “right” one. Or the “everything” one. (Ouch, poor ego). I also realised that I would sure as hell not stand in front of the possibility of them finding each other… regardless of how much it might end in the possibility of a broken heart. I simply could not live with the selfishness of that.

After realising this, I brought it to Him. Bared my fears. Took my running shoes off, and instead, opened my heart to show Him what was going on. I’m tired of trying to control outcomes in life. I will control the things I can… me and my thoughts and feelings, and how I share that and myself and my fears and vulnerability with others… more specifically, Him. I made a promise to give Him all of me, and will keep that promise for as long as it is necessary. By being brave enough to open that doorway, it allowed U/us to talk and connect in a new way, and even have a laugh about the situation. I love Him with all my heart. That means His happiness is important to me.

Releasing my fears brought with it the realisation that I am who I have always thought. It showed that if given the chance, I do love the way I thought I did. It may seem super one-sided, but it really, truly isn’t. He gives me a safe space to be able to face these fears in myself, and to be able to bring them to Him, and to be able to grow in the ways W/we both know I want to. These are the places that nourish my soul in a way that I had hoped, but had no idea of how that may occur. With each step, W/we set each other free in ways unimagined.

This will be hard. Of that I’ve no doubt. Change is hard. The fears are still there, however, at least they’re no longer hidden in dark places. We have looked at them and spoken to them. I trust Him. What happens from here, I don’t know…

It’s the little things that hurt. Tear at the heart and soul. An ignored message. A vague, distant response.

The feeling of being let in… and then removed.

It only hurts when conditions are placed on everything though.

On my love.

When I remember to choose to give my love freely, it doesn’t hurt anymore.

I can love from near. And I can love from afar.

I can love as I walk towards. And I can love as I walk away…

That there are 85 pages of public blogs, written by different people?

Going back 6 years.

How cool is that?

You will hate yoga for the first year. This is what I tell everyone who decides they want to try it. Why do I tell them this? Because it’s the truth. There are no quick fixes with yoga. There is no adrenaline rush. There is a little dopamine hit… but nothing like compared to running or gym or something like CrossFit.

It will make you feel awkward, clumsy, uncoordinated, and weak… if you’re doing it properly… and have a good teacher.

Sounds appealing right? Lol.

After a year you begin to understand what yoga is truly about. It’s about learning your body. Connecting with it. Getting to know it. And accepting it. I don’t mean acceptance in the sense of the “body love” movement. I mean you truly come to understand it’s strengths, it’s weaknesses, it’s idiosyncrasies… because trust me, we all have them… and we learn that it’s ok. Our body is unique. And it is ours. It is our responsibility to care for. And it will do exactly as we tell it to, within the scope of its accepted capabilities. We begin to understand the meaning of control when it comes to our body. The quality of (sustainable) effort we put in, is a direct reflection of what it gives us back. Let me say that again… 

The *quality* of (sustainable) effort we put into our body, is a direct reflection of what it gives us back.

That is what yoga teaches.

But to truly learn that to a point of *understanding* deeply within our bones, takes time… and dedication. And what I love most? There are no shortcuts.

Once this lesson has been learned, it can be applied anywhere in life. It doesn’t have to be. We can still choose to take shortcuts in life. We will still get quick fixes and instant satisfaction, with a lot less effort. However, applying the yogic philosophy, gives us very different results. Quality.

The only reason I started this blog this way was because I woke up thinking about yoga. It is a passion of mine. I have practiced and loved yoga for over 15 years. However, it wasn’t until I trained to become a teacher that my true love affair with it began. That’s when I began to see it as a life philosophy more than just some poses and stretches. I feel like that’s when I truly began to understand the gift it gives us. Breath and movement. That is life in its most simplistic form.

Ok ok, enough about yoga already.

As I woke up in my neglected bedroom, in my share house, this morning, it occurred to me that although I had considered myself having been in a few relationships since my marriage, there had always been factors that didn’t make it “quite real.” Don’t get me wrong, it felt real… emotionally it was very real. However, even being emotionally invested, every other part of my life remained untouched by the other person. I never neglected my room, or came home to strangers as housemate’s because I rarely saw them anymore. It had never been all encompassing. We’d never gone on walks with each others friends, or played scrabble, or snuggled on a couch. It had become so familiar to me that these things simply weren’t part of my relationships, that I forgot they existed. So much so, that it has been a struggle to remember how to physically connect with someone in the day-to-day. And considering the last person I actually did that with was my ex-husband, it has also been confronting at times, and painful at times, and sad at times. Having said that though… it has also been nourishing beyond belief. My soul finally feels alive again. I hadn’t realised how shrivelled it had become. I am a tactile person. And to be honest, it may sound weird, but there is nothing better for me on this planet, than to lay snuggled up against Him, my body following every detail of His, my head nestled into His shoulder, my face in His armpit, just smelling His scent. lol yeah I’m weird. But those things… touch, warmth, smell, the sounds of His body, His heartbeat. It just simultaneously transports me to heaven, and brings me solely to that moment of U/us, suspended in time. I wish I could bottle it. If there was a “thing,” that would be my ultimate addiction. My ultimate drug.

What on earth does this have to do with yoga?

What I forgot about was how hard relationships are. Trying to mesh two lives together in a way that makes you both feel like it’s worth it. I often hear people speaking of NRE… New Relationship Energy, and how much they love it and how addictive it can be. Yeah, not for me. I hate it. I hate building new relationships. It’s difficult and painful and super vulnerable for me. And to be honest, trying to do it as an adult, mindfully, makes it even more difficult. I always “fell into” relationships more than anything, throughout my life. So trying to do everything with thought and chosen action, is very new territory for me. And there have been many stuff ups along the way. I literally feel like a toddler learning to walk again. It feels like I’ve no experience to go by from my past. Add to that, the desire to try to shift from past negative behavioural patterns and habits, and that adds a whole new fun twist.

But over time… each time we overcome a hurdle… we get a little bit stronger. We trust a little more in the structure of what we’re building and creating. We come to understand that it takes time. And it takes learning. It takes connection. And it takes practice… dedication.

Ahhh… are you beginning to see?

When I apply what I say about yoga, to my struggles…

“You will hate (intimacy) for the first year. This is what I tell everyone who decides they want to try it. Why do I tell them this? Because it’s the truth. There are no quick fixes with (intimacy). There is no adrenaline rush. There is a little dopamine hit… but nothing like compared to (quick fixes).

It will make you feel awkward, clumsy, uncoordinated, and weak… if you’re doing it properly… and have a good teacher.

Sounds appealing right? Lol.

After a year you begin to understand what (intimacy) is truly about. It’s about learning your (relationship). Connecting with it. Getting to know it. And accepting it. I don’t mean acceptance in the sense of the (how we think it “should” be) movement. I mean you truly come to understand it’s strengths, it’s weaknesses, it’s idiosyncrasies… because trust me, we all have them… and we learn that it’s ok. Our (relationship) is unique. And it is ours. It is our responsibility to care for. And it will do exactly as we tell it to, within the scope of its accepted capabilities. We begin to understand the meaning of control when it comes to our (relationship). The quality of (sustainable) effort we put in, is a direct reflection of what it gives us back. Let me say that again…

The *quality* of (sustainable) effort we put into our (relationship), is a direct reflection of what it gives us back.

That is what yoga teaches.

But to truly learn that to a point of *understanding* deeply within our bones, takes time… and dedication. And what I love most? There are no shortcuts.”

… there is a GentleMan somewhere who reminds me that Chivalry isn’t yet dead. I love this 😊

I love Men. Thank You for being You. Thank you for making me feel special, it truly is valued and appreciated.

“Parallel lines have so much in common..
It’s a shame they’ll never meet.”

🙃

She was sure it was over. She’d pushed Him too far. Like everyone, He would leave. She wanted to run far, far away. Her usual response. “I don’t need Him,” she thinks.

But this time she knows that’s not true. This time it’s different… and deep down in the gentle whispers of her heart, she knows she can’t believe that anymore. The thought of not belonging to Him makes it impossible to breathe. What will she do? The panic makes it impossible to think of anything beyond Him. Somewhere though, the stirrings of what she has been given on this journey from the beautiful souls who have nurtured and cared for her, begin to surface. “Be still.” “Wait.” “Allow yourself to be vulnerable.”

She realises that she wants to be tormented for Him… if He so wishes it to be.

‘Do you want me to crawl? I will crawl.’

She remembers the promise.

Obedience. Surrender.

Despite the pain in her heart and soul, she finds solace in knowing that this time will be different. This time she will not try to control the outcome. She will simply wait. She will continue to do her tasks, and she will continue to care for herself. This time, she is different. She is stronger. More wise. Ready.

She will keep her heart open.

Every fear her mind can conjure, rises to the surface. She examines and sits with them all. And she realises it’s ok. She will be ok. Her heart has broken before. She has walked this path before. Always slightly different, but the healing is the same. This time though, He has given her a gift that she can carry that is unlike any before. He brought her back to life.

She had fallen  in love with Him deeper than she ever had in her life. And He hadn’t just broken her. He had crushed her.

But she doesn’t think these thoughts with any hatred. It actually makes her love Him even more. Why?

Because He showed her that under the right circumstances she can truly come to life.

He showed her that with the right person, she could love far beyond what she had ever dreamed.

And He showed her that she could care so deeply that she was willing to give everything of herself.

She had never trusted that she could do any of these things.

So ultimately, He gave her the most precious gift anyone had ever given her.

He’d shown her that she’s not broken like she thought. He not only showed her that freedom actually does exist, but He set her free from herself. From the chains of her past, and from the chains of her mind. She knew that she could live the rest of her days knowing that even once, she did these things and felt it. Home. And even as her heart shatters at the loss of Him, that makes her the happiest she’s ever been.

“Thank You for that gift,” she thinks. “I will cherish it forever.”

Each day she tries not to ask if she can come to Him. And each day He tells her not to, crushing her a little more. Finally, after three days, He calls her to Him. Her heart sinks. She knows it’s to end things. She is just too much. And not enough. She failed at everything. She was too fat, too frigid, too moody, too demanding, too shy, too vanilla, too inexperienced… on and on it went. There was nothing she could offer that would rectify her behaviour. She is simply not enough.

“Do you need anything from me, Sir?” she had asked. A desperate attempt at being open and available to Him while her heart was breaking with the truth.

‘Come and clean my house while I nap, slave, and then we will talk.’

And then we will talk…

And then we will talk…

And then we will talk…

There it is.

As she drives there, her heart is beating so fast she can’t tell if she’s having a panic attack or not. He’s going to have her clean His house, and then dump her. No. Yes. No. Yes. It doesn’t matter… she will clean His house, and she will do so with integrity. The outcome is not hers to control. She will accept whatever comes.

When she arrives, she’s so nervous she can’t even meet His eyes. ‘The dog and I are going for a walk,’ He says. ‘You clean, we’ll talk when I’m back.’

Cleaning brings so much joy to her. It is one area she knows she did well in her service to Him. Maintaining and keeping His home. Just doing the tasks lifts her heart, so she focuses only on each movement.

He returns and calls to her. She climbs into the bed and snuggles into His arms… and waits. He speaks and she listens. He explains how angry He was. How He needed that space to reflect on how best to move forward. How He needed to find a punishment that would help her understand. A punishment? Something vaguely registers. The night He sent her home. The mention of her being punished. How could she have forgotten that? Her panic overrode any logic or understanding.

She speaks. He listens. He is astounded at how far she had gone. That demon mind of hers taking her to the worst case scenarios and convincing her of truths He’d not spoken.

And then here He was. Telling her His truth.

‘You are mine,’ He says.’ ‘I own you.’

She cries. Relief. Love. Adoration. Something in her let’s go and opens to Him. She feels the completeness of her surrender. All her fears fall away and she shows herself in all her vulnerability. And He loves her. And He wants her. And He Owns her.

There is nothing left. She knows this… feels it. There are no more barriers. Her anger is gone. Her fight is gone. She feels safe. He is the One.

have been on many an adventure.

why wait until there is no fear? why not just take them with me?