Sluts and more

It’s another beautiful day.  The sun is shining.  i’ve already done my volunteer thing and had breakfast.  Have an afternoon of activities ahead of me, most of which will be fun.  So life is good.

i saw JM, the amazing analyst yesterday, which always brightens my day, and sometimes my week.  We were talking about judgement – not using good judgement, but making judgements about other people’s sexuality.  

i work in a ~ culture, i guess is the right term ~ a culture that’s very judgmental about sexuality, especially  about women, of course.  Boys will be boys, and you know, they can’t help it.  There’s “nice” girls and “bad” girls and bad girls do and nice girls don’t.  Bad girls are just like prostitutes, except they don’t get paid.  And sometimes ~

~~ sometimes ~~ brace yourself now

~~~~~~~~~~ sometimes they “do it” because they just like sex.

True.  Shocking, but true.  

And, as you may guess, this is not my stance on the universe or sexuality and it is often a struggle for me to be balanced and not just leap out there and alienate half the staff and most of my clients.  But that wouldn’t solve anything, and wouldn’t even help, so i’m always trying to challenge the ideas in more subtle ways, to bring them into question and explore them.

So when i realize that somehow, i’ve bought into it, somehow i’m taking that judgmental stance with myself, i am filled with dismay.  But there it is

As i told JM yesterday, only half kidding, we all know there is an actual number of people you can have an intimate relationship with before you cross an invisible line and become ~

~ and i get a little stuck here, because what do you become?  Not a fallen woman, i think as far as i’m concerned, that boat already sailed.  Not a slut or a bad girl, cause those are terms of endearment.  But still, there’s something you become, what can it be???? 

i never did name it yesterday, for sure, he knew what a meant, and we let it go at that.  But writing this today, it hit me ~~~

AHA!

A sex addict!

That’s what we become.

And how funny is that?  That i think calling someone a “sex addict” is more pejorative than slut.  But anyhow…

…i was talking about how i kinda got caught up in that for a while, being a little afraid that i was going to hit that actual number and cross the line.  And maybe i’m still working my way back out of it.

i was thinking too about the difference between a Dom or a Master and someone vanilla who just likes rough sex.  Is there a difference?  Yes, i’m pretty sure there is, and JM agreed, and when i said i didn’t think i could articulate the difference, he said he’d hoped i would, cause he couldn’t.  But it’s there, right?

And that’s what i’m thinking about on a beautiful Saturday in April with a whole lovely afternoon ahead of me.  {smiling…}

Sunshine

The sun actually came out yesterday.  It was amazing.  Today, i’ll have some time to get outside and enjoy it, so that’s excellent!

But i still can’t get onto most blogs.  i keep getting an error message.  It’s sad.  😦   i found a way  around the error message that worked for a few blogs, but i couldn’t comment.  Frustrating…  i hope my blog isn’t being difficult for people.

We’re getting close to the May munches, and i’m remembering my promise to myself to go on Friday.  That’s next Friday.  And i haven’t lost 20 pounds yet.  There’s a shock.

But my friend Bob is back in town, and he’s going to the munches, so maybe we can hang out some.  Just knowing that makes it more comfortable for me.

Mick, over at UCTMW, was talking about whether or not he could maintain a level of sexual titillation while his Mistress is gone for 11 days.  i read that and thought, sheesh, some of us are trying to hold that ideal for months.  Months.  

Sigh.

Whine.

Ok, enough of that.

The sun is supposed to be out again today.  You can’t imagine how exciting that is.   We had a double rainbow yesterday.  This isn’t an actual picture of our double rainbow, but it did look like this:

 

To My Blogspot Friends

i just wanted to let youall know that i’m having trouble accessing your blogs.  i tried to leave a comment on one blog and got an error message, and now i can’t access any of the blogspot blogs.  😦  Hopefully, the problem will fix itself while i sleep.  

i’m clicked on their little problem discussion link and i’m not the only one having this problem.  But i sure do miss knowing what’s going on with everyone…  

HNT Thursday

Wordless today…  

Will it EVER quit raining?

Crawl

“Come here,” He says.

i stand in front of Him, waiting.  i’m wearing his shirt, the flannel one.  It’s soft and smells like him.  It’s unbuttoned.

He has been reading; He puts the book down.  

“Kneel,” He says.

Something in His voice warms me, i go to my knees quickly.  Without the pillow even, it’s on the other side of the room, and i’ll be ok for a few minutes.  

i kneel with my legs spread slightly, inviting.  Back straight, breasts thrust forward.  Palms up on my thighs.  A familiar position.

“The shirt?” He says.  Quickly, i slip it off.  Flick it away from me.

“Crawl,” He says.

i tilt my head a little, questioning.  This is new.  “Crawl, Sir?”

He leans forward then.  Grasps my hair from behind, right at the nape of my neck.  Tilts my head back, hard, so i’m looking directly at him.

His voice is soft and even, almost casual, but i know better. “Crawl,” He says.  “I think you understand that.”

“Yes, Sir,” i gasp.  “Yes, Sir, i do.”

“Well then.”  He releases my hair, leans back in the chair.  “Crawl.”

Still a little confused, i obey.  i lean forward, palms on the floor, and begin to move.  Turning away from Him and crawling towards the couch.  

Slowly.

Aware of my body, the movement of my ass as i move my arms and legs.  Feeling awkward, trying to be graceful.  

i reach the couch and pause.  

“Did i say, ‘Stop?'” He asks.

“No, Sir.”  i have to turn, i go towards the hall that leads to the bedroom, slowly moving farther away from Him.   i’m in the entrance to the hallway when He says,

“Stop.”

i freeze, hoping this will be over soon.  It’s humiliating.  And yes, of course my pussy is hot and wet.  Throbbing.  

That doesn’t make it less humiliating.  More, actually.

“Head down” He says.  It takes a few seconds for it to register, but then ~

~ i put my head to the floor, my arms outstretched in front of me.  Ass raised, all up in the air.  Open, exposed.

My heart pounds.  

Time passes.

i feel ridiculous, kneeling all open, offering myself, this far away from Him.  i don’t know if He’s even looking in my direction.  He may be reading again for all i know.

i want to look back, i want to see if He’s watching me.  

i know better than that.

i wait.  

Finally ~

“Open,” He says.

i move my arms, place a hand on each cheek, and spread myself open.  More open, that is.

i think i hear a page turn.

i feel ~ i don’t know what i feel ~ kneeling here waiting, not sure if He’s paying attention or not.  Angry, for a minute.  Neglected.  It is humiliating; i feel myself being taken down.  

Taken down a notch.  

And as i think that, my pussy throbs, a shiver runs through me.  

Really it doesn’t matter if He’s paying attention or not.  That’s completely up to Him.  And in a way, that’s the point.

I feel myself relaxing, slipping into the right frame of mind.

The only thing i have to worry about is obeying Him.  If He wants me way over here, all ass up in the air ~

~ well, i’m offering, right?

And if that’s what He wants ~

~my breathing slows, i am slipping deeper.

i wiggle a little, getting more comfortable.  i might be here for a while, and that’s ok.

i want to be where He wants me to be.  i smile a little, feel my face relax.

And i don’t know how long it is.  i am contemplating.  Thinking about Him, my heart is lifted up, i am filled with love. 

My Sir.

And then, at last, when i have shifted into submission so deeply that i could have waited all night, only then, He says,

“Now, get ready to crawl.”

And i lift myself back up to my hands and knees.  Wait.

“Crawl back to me,” He says.

i do, crawling slowly, head down.  

“Look at me,” He says.

i raise my head, look into His eyes.  Feel myself held by His gaze.  Lose myself in the desire to please.

And i crawl all the way to His feet.  He takes my hair and pulls my head closer, pulls my up on my knees, head in his lap.

He strokes my hair.

“Good girl,” He says.

Then What?

In a comment sometime in the middle of the night ~ or at least after my 9:00 bedtime ~  Angel asked, “What happens next when you are not afraid of your feelings?”

i had been kind of thinking about that anyhow, because i used the video from yesterday’s post in a women’s group at work, and they had essentially raised the same question.  i think the answer should be, “Then you can live a happy, fulfilled life, which just an occasional difficult or unpleasant moment.  You’ll have healthy relationships and make good decisions and really, pretty much, live happily-ever-after.”  

Right?

And i’m laughing, but really, that doesn’t seem too unreasonable, does it?   At the least, i don’t think i should have to keep going through all the unpleasant emotions.   After all, i’m a mental health professional!  i’ve been working at this stuff for a long time.  i should be exempt from actually having to feel pain or confusion or ~ um, incompetence, and the shame that goes with that for me.  Shouldn’t i have at least already gotten over that?

Ok, now you’re laughing at me ~ stop it.  {laughing}

But doesn’t it seem like there should be some point where your dues are paid, you’ve had your share of suffering, and it’s just time for it to stop?  When you can recognize that some things would be painful, without having to actually feel it?

Yeah.

That doesn’t happen.

i used to think that i’d get to a place where i moved through life with certainty, where life’s questions were resolved and i just naturally felt the “right” ways and made the right decisions.

That doesn’t actually happen either.  Well, not for me anyhow.

Here’s what i think happens.

Remember, i believe that inside each of us is the light.  The light of  God or Goddess, the light of “wise mind” as Linnehan calls it, the light of our true selves.  Connection with our own light brings peace and contentment and joy.  Connection between our light and the light of others brings love, compassion, and joy.  Just like the old song, “This little light of mine, I’mma gonna let it shine…”

Out light gets blocked by all kinds of things.   Depression, abuse, alcohol and drugs, any of the compulsions, needless anxiety, lack of connectedness, lack of nurturance ~ all those  things block our light.  It’s not that we’re doing anything wrong, it’s just hard for the light to shine through all that.

Not being in touch with what you’re feeling is another barrier.

Linnehan talks about states of mind – emotional mind, reasonable mind, and wise mind.  Wise mind is what happens when emotional mind and reasonable mind talk to each other.  In order for that to happen, we need to be in touch with emotional mind.

Our emotions send us important messages.  They motivate behavior.  If we couldn’t feel fear, we’d be like people who don’t have pain sensations.  If we put a hand on a hot stove, it hurts  ~ and we jerk the hand back.  Without the pain message, we could get seriously hurt, we wouldn’t know to  pull our hands off the hot stove.

Imagine a world without love.

Yeah, emotions are essential.  AND~~

i think ~~

being in touch with our feelings, allowing ourselves to feel them, helps remove some barriers.  Helps us be in alignment with ourselves.  Allows the light within us to begin to shine through.

That connects us more fully to joy and lets us love with more passion and more devotion.

And in the long run, are we happier?   i think maybe we are.  Or – more able to connect with happiness and joy?  i don’t know ~ i think so.  Better able to make decisions that are “right” for us?  Yeah, maybe.

But the option ~ the other choice ~ is being numb and disengaged.  And i know that one doesn’t feel good.   i believe that Kahlil Gibran was right when he says:

“Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.  And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears. And how else can it be? The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain…

When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy. When you are sorrowful, look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.”

But I say unto you, they are inseparable. Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.

Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy. Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced…”

(The Prophet)

Being Vulnerable

The video is Brene Brown, speaking on vulnerability.  

Being open to feelings creates vulnerability.  

She talks about “foreboding joy.”  i hear it from my clients, “Sure, i feel good for a little while, but i can’t enjoy it.  i know it won’t last.  Something bad is going to happen.”

And i have to laugh a little bit, because of course it will.  We don’t get to stay in “feel good” mode forever, life goes on.

So Ms. Brown goes on to talk about “numbing,” which is what i talk about all the time with my clients with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  Numbing is a way to avoid the things we don’t want to think about, avoid the feelings we don’t want to feel.

My clients say, “Well of course i avoid them, why would i want to remember those feelings?  Feel them again?  Are you crazy?”

And Ms. Brown says the same things i say to my clients, that the cost of numbing all those feelings is the loss of joy.  When we put our feelings in a box and try to keep it locked,  joy and compassion and contentment and love and all the pleasant feelings get locked up too.

i think of the things she talks about as reactions to having experienced trauma.  She talks about it as a national phenomenon.  She says that as a nation we’re all doing it ~ numbing with alcohol, drugs, food, shopping, staying busy, and so on.   Once she says it, i know she’s right.

i’m doing it when i don’t want to get my hopes up about meeting somebody.  When i practice that superstitious kind of “not expecting good things” so i don’t “jinx myself.”  Really, it’s an effort to avoid being vulnerable to getting hurt.  

i’ve noticed that youall call me on it every time i do it.  Someone makes a comment to remind me to relax and breathe, to experience the feelings, to go with the flow.

So does BDSM help us stay in touch with our feelings?  Help us not be numb?   Or does it help us avoid our every day mundane lives?  

It seems like there is tremendous vulnerability in being submissive.  We purposely walk into situations that may trigger tremendous emotional pain.  In fact, we choose pain.  When and how it comes is not our choice, so we are not able to protect ourselves by being prepared for it.

How does it work for dominants?  Are they walking into vulnerability too?  

i think i have a lot of thoughts on this, and not enough time to sort through them today.  

Ms. Brown says there are two ways not to numb out.  

                             ~~Practice gratitude.   

                             ~~Honor what’s ordinary.  

As i go through my day, i’ll try to keep those things in mind.

i think “to honor what’s ordinary” is to be mindful.  To feel and experience each moment, as much as possible.  To do one thing at a time, with all my focus.   To do it non-judgmentally, without criticizing myself all day long.  

The gratitude part is easier.  Starting with youall.  i’m so grateful for each of you.   Just knowing that people are interested in reading my story is a powerful affirmation.  When you comment, give me feedback and support, or challenge my ideas, it’s a gift of great value.

The hardest thing for me, in this vulnerability realm, is feeling incompetent.  That triggers a desire to numb stronger than just about anything.  

O ~ wait ~ for me, feeling incompetent is the essence of vulnerability.   

Yikes.

It is though.  And i used to smoke a cigarette when i felt it.  Now ~ lately~ i eat.  And that’s not so helpful either.

So today, i will allow myself to feel fully incompetent.   i will remind myself that no one is “competent enough” to solve the problems of poverty, mental illness, and a warped society.  i will accept that i don’t have to be “competent” all the time.

And i will not eat compulsively.  i will not eat without thinking about it.  i will eat mindfully, savoring each bite.  i will make it an experience, not an exercise in avoidance.

 

Easter

It’s early Easter morning and i’m going to have my own sunrise services soon.  i have a long tradition of not going to church on Easter or Christmas.  i go “religiously” the rest of the year, and i figure i save room for the Easter-Christmas Catholics on those days.  

It’s been explained to me before that this is not the right attitude, but i still do it.  i was one of those Easter-Christmas Catholics for a long time, and i know they appreciate the extra seat. 

So i’ll do my own spiritual ceremony at sunrise.

It feels like a day for resolutions.  Not in a “you’ve done this wrong, you need to do better,” kind of way so much as a “looking inside myself for what i need,” kind of way.

And when i can find that space, that deep-inside-myself space, then i feel the power of who i am.  Like i could wear robes and dance around a fire at night, or even a Maypole by day.  Feeling the power of the goddess inside me.

We are all wanderers on this earth.
Our hearts are full of wonder, and our souls are deep with dreams.
— Gypsy proverb

After the Coffee…

…i bought a Mac.

Really, i did.  And for some of you, that’ll be really exciting!  i bought the MacBook Air, even though one of my friends said absolutely not to buy that.

i got the 11-inch one

 

But the guy at the store convinced me that it’s new technology, and even though it sounds like it would be less powerful than the MacBook Pro (is that the right name?) it’s really much faster and will have more than enough storage for my needs.  And he demonstrated how much faster it was, and suggested my friend come in and check it out too.

So far, i’m deliriously happy with it.

But some of you probably want to hear about what happened between the coffee and the computer shopping.

You know, like Sfp, i find myself thinking about how youall will react to events in my life, and then realizing how ridiculous that is.  i think i feel like there’s this weight of hope and expectation from youall, and i want to just hurry up and find a nice Dom to settle down with so i don’t let you down. 

How goofy is that?  

i was in a bit of an odd mood anyhow yesterday.  We’ve had some stuff going on at work with some clients that has led to some therapists’ values being clearly exposed.  It’s created  a little tension, and i’ve  gotten a little tired of saying, “There is nothing intrinsically wrong with meeting men on the internet.”    

At the same time, it’s caused me ~ as things like that always do ~ to check my own values.  

“Slut-shaming” we call it, when the goal is to make women feel wrong for expressing their sexuality.  And i’m pretty firmly against it ~ slut-shaming that is, i’m in favor of women expressing their sexuality.  And men too, for that matter.

So yesterday, as i got all tarted up and put on my cfm shoes, i was telling the slut-shaming voices in my head to shut up and leave me alone.   Yes, i was going to this meeting with the possible intention of playing with Sir C.   And that’s ok.  i can do that.

But it put me in an odd head space, i think.  i had mental images of youall thinking, “O, there goes aisha again, off to another ‘adventure,'” and then tsk-ing.   That’s what’s been happening at work, a lot of “tsk-ing.”   And you know, i’m always sensitive to recognizing that the dividing line between me and my clients is pretty much imaginary anyhow.

Ok, so you get the picture, right?  Part of me is wanting to go meet Sir C , to get to know him and maybe to play.  And part of me is all tight-lipped, shaking my head and tsk-ing.  So i told that part of me to shut up, and went ahead with Plan A.

i have taken the good advice youall gave me about being comfortable, so i wear my dress that i bought at a festival last year ~ it is loose and flowing and feels good.

No panties, as requested.

CFM shoes.

And he is waiting, standing beside his vehicle, when i pull into the parking lot.  A distinguished looking gentleman, with white hair and deep brown eyes.

He greets me with a kiss, and that’s nice.  i’m happy to meet him, and i think he is too.  He tells me i’m beautiful ~ so sweet ~ says nice things, and we go inside.

Chai latte with skim milk, that’s what i get.  At my usual coffee place, i get the sugar-free vanilla chai, but they don’t have that at Starbucks.

We have some vanilla conversation.  i already know, Sir C is smart and well-read.  He’s had an interesting life too.  i enjoy talking to him. 

And if there’s still a part of my head that’s not engaged, that’s shaking her head and tsk-ing, i ignore her.

When he tells me to put both feet on the ground, i obey without question, my pussy throbs, and i slip a little into submissiveness.  Which feels really good.

And i realize, as i write this, i don’t want to tell the story this morning.  

Sir C is a nice man, a sweet man.  Clearly, a dominant man, one who can be gentle and firm.  He’s a good man.

And he is not my Dom.  

It kind of broke my heart a little, he’s right for me in so many ways, but he’s not ~ he’s not my Dom.

i told him that, because it’s only fair, and i think he was disappointed too, but we’re still friends, and i hope we’ll be friends forever.

i’m not sure what to do with all this “slut-shaming” stuff i’ve got going on in my head.  Fortunately, i’ve got an appointment with JM, the amazing analyst, next Friday.  Maybe he can help me sort that out. 

i’m way behind on reading OPB {Other People’s Blogs} and answering comments and e-mail, but now that i have a computer again, i hope to get caught up soon.  

i finished this post, and went to find a coffee picture to add to it – and right there in the rows of pictures, i found this too:

Which i thought was kind of cool, until i saw the heading was “Abu-Ghraib-Coffee-Table” and now i’m not sure what to think of it.  

i am confused today, a little lost.  It’s raining like we need to be building some arks, and i’m trying to flow with whatever’s going on in my head.  

i can’t just tell myself “stop it!”  

Well, i can but that’s not really so helpful.  So i guess i’ll try to ride this out.

I know

I know what I’m going to wear.

I know where we’re meeting.

I know what kind of coffee I’ll order.

I just don’t know what will happen beyond that.