Wow!

So, Steven and I seem to have come to an understanding, which is that I will continue to see other people (as will he), and we both love each other and want to be with each other right now. I seriously doubt I could sleep with someone else at the same time that Steven and I are involved. And he knows I would want to peruse the possibility of finding a soul mate, when such a thing becomes possible. (We talked really openly about this. Plus, he knows this URL. It amazes me I'm comfy with him reading what I'm thinking and he seems to be comfy with the fact that I have the blog. I have a sneaking suspicioun he wouldn’t find this blog boring—I’m always intrigued when someone writes about me—Hi Steven!). So we’ll let the future take care of itself in whatever way it does. But in this moment, here and now, Wow!

We spent most of Saturday in bed, or around the bed, or backed against the wall, or, well, you get the point. And this hosting site doesn’t allow ‘obscenity.’ But wow! Who knew all of this could be, actually, fun?

Steven used several things on me that I would have thought I couldn’t handle. Especially a riding crop and a TENS (that is some sort of electrical thing) unit. At 30% that was delightful. At 70% it was odd and close to something that might be defined at pain. Really intense but not misery creating. It fell into that transitional place that is difficult to define.

Originally, he had me standing, and that brought out all my fears. All the things I hate about wiitwd and being that way. He was SO sweet. He undressed me that way I love—carefully unwrapping me, like a present. Telling me I wasn’t supposed to help. Kissing every square inch of my body. But when he flogged my legs and butt, very lightly I just got so tense. I wasn’t there anymore. I was enduring for my ex. Then he started flogging my shoulders and I just relaxed. Softening into his presence, I could unwind and let go of what has happened. And I actually enjoyed it. Later, he had me tied, spread-eagle, to the bed, and I just wanted more and more and more and more. I handled everything—even the pointy end of the TENS unit running all over. I wanted him to devour me.

It made me realize how much my relationship with my ex wasn’t healthy for me. I won’t say it was ‘abusive’ because he would have stopped if I said so. I was a full and consenting party, and I accept responsibility for that. But I really grew to dread everything except snuggling.

Now, I should say, my ex gave me several wonderful gifts—most especially the self-esteem to finally leave him. He continually built me up as a human being, even if I felt torn down as a submissive. For the most part, he thought I was beautiful (if a little plumper than he’d like, and he wanted me to dress in less conservative, more revealing, sexier clothing). More importantly, he relished in my mind. Instead of hiding my mind, feeling like it was something someone would overlook if I was lucky, he taught me how much fun it could be.

But, we were not well matched in the erotic world, and I think we both knew it from the beginning. From the start, we agreed that I would compromise by not having many limits in the bedroom and he would compromise by not demanding obedience outside the bedroom. I was OK with that because it didn't feel like I was denying my erotic self and we clicked on a vanilla level.

The biggest problem, for me, is that he liked me scared. And he was angry whenever he moved towards sexual relations. This made me feel like I'd done something wrong--I wasn't good enough the way I was. And he managed to make me scared, which I don't enjoy. The more scared I was, the more turned on he was. (There were other problems too—most especially his belief that I shouldn’t have any sexual needs and that all my needs should be met by the pleasure of pleasing him--I’m just not wired that way. While he finally came to accept that I just got bitchy if I wasn’t having regular orgasms, he always treated that like a chore that I was allowed to handle after I’d done the important stuff of pleasing him, when he was groggy and didn’t really care anyway. I’m not quite sure why I put up with it for as long as I did, but that’s another issue.)

Anyhoo—I used to act. I’m actually pretty good at it. I even got a couple of leads in local theatre productions. Stanislavski--all the way. It wasn’t an attempt to manipulate things on my part (although it may have had a similar effect) but, I couldn’t ‘act’ scared. I could just be scared. It is hard to explain, but every time something happens, I have a choice as to how I respond--do I take the red pill or the blue pill? The blue pill is simple--I focus on the present moment. I take a slow breath in and out, focus on my breathing, listen to my heart beat, and know that I’m OK and I’ll be OK. The red pill is different. I don’t focus on my breathing. Instead, I focus on my helplessness. My inability to make the situation different. I breathe too fast and lose control. And I get scared. And as soon as I start there, I get more scared.

By a certain point with the ex, I was having panic attacks a couple of times a week. It was actually a routine that grew to work for both of us--he’d get off on my panic attack, then he’d comfort me and I'd love the comforting. The problem was, a panic attack leaves a chemical residue in my body, where I feel more helpless and jittery until I’ve had a good night’s sleep and it did something weird to my self-concept, so going to that place on a regular basis, it made me even more susceptible to it.

Sex with my ex was like a bad fight with my folks. I hated it. I really did. But it was home. Not everyone likes their home. I’d put up with bad vanilla sex my whole life--it wasn’t worse than that because at least it was honest, and I was home. It was the way the world was supposed to be, right? I just drew a bad hand, and this is what a relationship looks like if you are in the kinky world. I’m finally learning, that is what a bad relationship looks like in the kinky world, but it has left traces on my soul and scripts in my head that I don’t want to replay for the rest of my life. Steven actually talked with me about it (in part, because he knows my secrets--he knows my fears and he is so lovely with them), and I think he will help me let go of those scripts. Who knew all this could be fun too?