A Catch Up Before 2010

It has been over 3 months since I last sat and wrote here on my blog.

At the lowest times when I have needed to empty my head I have been painfully aware that most of what I divulge is depressing drivel and found it hard to write, at other times (increasing in number I am relieved to say) I feel hopeful and I then don't feel the need to write my emotions down.

It has been a strange three months, many things have happened and yet nothing at all.

Since my last blog I have struggled with my head and my heart on a number of occasions and at the end of October, the date marking the very last time I was with my Lover, when we were still fooling ourselves we had hope, we exchanged some texts and I asked him if he would meet me.

If he had agreed I am not sure how I would have felt or if I would have actually had the courage to go. I am also not totally sure of the reasons I felt I wanted to meet. Partly I know it was so I could see once and for all if there was something still there.

I wrote before how ours was a Legendary Love, still pristine and perfect. I tend to look back at our time with rose-tinted specs, in my head, in my memory everything about him/us was perfect, ideal. Perhaps with the passing of 12 months I wanted to find out if, when I saw him again, I would see the 'real' him, the man who broke me, the man who fed me hope and then let me down so terribly. The long-haired, bearded hippie who I possibly wouldn't have given a second glance at should we have met in a bar...... I wanted to see what part of the man I saw in him now.

He replied that he didn't want to meet, that he wasn't comfortable. He then sent a follow-up text saying that if I were to drive down I must know that he would make the time to see me. But I had already replied with a goodbye and a wish for his happiness and so my chance was lost.

I made the decision there would be no more contact..... with the get out clause that it was his birthday in a little over 6 weeks and that if I had to, really really had to make contact I could do it then without losing face, right? I mean wishing your ex-lover a happy birthday is a legitimate reason for breaking the embargo on contact.....? And if course he had vanished from my thoughts and I missed it, well then it would simply show us all how far I had moved on!

The birthday loomed and I asked close friends what I should do. Do I send a humourous non-specific card to his place of work? Do I email a Happy Birthday message? Or do I send a simple text on his day? The consensus was it would be better to ignore, that he would be expecting contact and that I should let it pass unmarked. I agreed.

I lasted till 10pm and then caved in and sent a text - "Happy birthday *****"

He replied, thanked me and hoped I was well. I didn't pursue it. No more words were needed. He didn't ask if I was well, he didn't enquire about my health, it was a statement. It didn't require a reply. He then text me on the 23rd, wishing me a happy christmas and a wish that 2010 was a 'kind and good year' for me, that I deserved it. I simply replied that I felt we both deserved it.

Oh but it has stirred up all sorts of head-fucking thoughts. I hate New Year with a passion! I remember the days when I was young and each new year signified the promise of new things! Leaving school, starting work, passing my driving test! New men in my life, new homes, a wedding, a baby, another baby! First school days, summer holidays!

New Year is wonderful if you have hope and happiness. New Year is dreadful when you are lost and don't know if you can ever be found again.

The one good thing is that on my more positive days, the ones where I do see hope and happiness and a rosy-life in front of me I do feel more like my old self, the person I liked, the person who loved and was loved, the woman that felt of worth. On days where I am still lost I feel I am a burden to those around me, a drain on people energies and I despise myself for being the person I have become.

The dreadful thing about these dark days is that they can spring upon you with such suddeness they can take your breath away, like a mugger hidden around a corner on an otherwise sunny street, they assault your self-esteem and rob you of your confidence. Its that confidence that is the key, the confidence to be the person you long to be, the confidence to see a future worth sharing, the confidence to give yourself hope.

I know that only I can heal myself, that it is only my own doing that can mend me and I hope with all my heart that 2010 is indeed a 'kind and good year' for me, for us all, because we ALL deserve it

Babies, Birthdays, Cupcakes and Cradles....

Friday saw the eve of a momentous event in my life....
Twenty years ago that day I was awaiting the birth of my first baby.

I was terribly broody not long after we first married and we had tried to conceive for a year before I fell pregnant. My due date was September 19th, we broke to news to first family and friends, all thrilled and excited, both Grannies and my adored aunt wished fervently for a baby girl........I yearned for a baby girl! The pregnancy went smoothly and as comfortably as pregnancies go and my 6lb 14oz bundle of girly-flavoured yumminess arrived a week early on the 12th. I swear I thought she was the most exquisite thing I have ever laid eyes on! Isn't nature wonderful for making us think that!!

I had spent the day before making finals finishing touches to the nursery, making sure my hospital bag had everything I thought would be required and setting up the Moses basket with tiny blankets and sheets.........



Friday was the eve of my baby's 20th birthday, my beautiful daughter, the adored (and at times rather spoilt) grandchild of my parents. She is of course now working, she drives her own car and is 'going steady' as my mum insists on calling it with a local boy.

So this year, instead of preparing maternity holdalls and tiny beds I have today lost my weary head in preparing wee morsels for her delight tomoro. She isn't fond of traditional birthday cakes so my younger daughter and I baked a myriad of tiny cupcakes and hand decorated them for her. Oh we did have fun and a giggle doing it and watching the clock as she was due home from work and stashing them away, foil covered in the garage so she wouldn't spot them before her birthday morning!

Incidentally, the moses basket that I so lovingly prepared 20 years ago is now occupied by a new little life. My daughters friend gave birth this week to her baby boy and he now resides in the pale blue protection of my beautiful cradle.......

Perhaps I will make him blue cupcakes in 20 years time.................

Written on a sunny sunday......

I haven't blogged for a very long time. Not here, not anywhere and I am not sure of the reasons for that. I think I was perhaps a little 'blogged out'.... I certainly have had so many, many things whirring round my wee head so its certainly not for lack of thoughts or emotions.

But perhaps after trying exposure as part of the healing process I needed to look internally, keep some things inside my head and heart and deal with them differently.

And now I am here, my fingers tapping out the words onto my screen, I am not quite sure of what to

write or where to begin. Its a few weeks now since I returned home from my holiday and my life has plodded, with one or two encounters I may share....

I'll start at the beginning....my marriage.

Since my lover and I ended back in November last year I have been a mess, I know that for many months I clung to the hope that he would suddenly realise what a terrible mistake he had made, that he still loved me as desperately as I felt I loved him, that he was willing to go through the devastation just to be with me ...because I really did need to feel and believe that what I thought we had shared was real.

Once the hope began to fade it was a resigned 'if it's meant to be, it will be' mentality that I got through each day with, but I became aware that I was holding back, sunconsciously keeping myself distant from my husband incase my warmth or interest in him led him to believe that things were now ok, normal service resumed and I was over stuff.

I underestimated his knowledge of me. He is an odd man my husband, he has no idea how to show is emotions, he is what I cruelly describe as 'emotionally retarded', he can neither voice nor express what he is feeling or thinking.

This has always been an issue for me, I have always found it frustrating and confusing that I am left in this wilderness of not knowing or understanding him, that communication and expression have always been so difficult between us. But it appears he knows me well enough to see that I am still not fully healed from my affair, still pine for what I had, still grieve for what I lost.

What I think is slightly different for me now, with the passing of a little more time, is that I now recognise that the man I fell in love with and risked my marriage for now no longer exists. The man now that has pushed me so far out of his life in order to restore and rebuild his own marriage is not the man that I lost my heart and mind over and who made me believe that we could have this amazing relationship like no other we had ever experienced. He is no more.

He told me many months ago that "I have had to let my love for you go, if I am to attempt to rebuild my marriage I have HAD to"

That one line has been a thorn in my side ever since. If it was true love how can it be let go? How I wish that I too could 'let my love' for him go! How I wish he didn't cross my mind and invade my thoughts every day. And I mean EVERY day, several times a day! How I long for a day when I close my eyes at night without having seen a hundred things that remind me of him and ached to make contact with him........fuck how different a man's mind heart and world must be if he can have just 'let his love go'!

Of course the cynic in me thinks....well he obviously never loved me and thats a thought that causes me almost as much pain, so I let that one pass quickly and don't dwell on the whys and wherefores of that one.

The other thing is that its ok to let my husband in, I don't have to keep him at arms length afraid that he will see any connection between us as being a guarantee of a future, another 22 years together. I sit with him and go out with him, I cook for him and join him watching television, we have watched films side by side and we have had sex.

I say' had sex' as opposed to 'make love' because sadly I am still terribly detached. I don't desire this man, sex has not been amazing between us for many years. It was never truly stunning but it was good, but that died for us a long time ago. I know there are things I can say, do and suggest that maybe, and I say maybe because I am not absolutely sure, make things better for both of us. But you have to WANT it, you have to LOVE them or at least FANCY them to have that inner desire to introduce and explore and learn again with each other and sadly I am not at that place yet, perhaps I never will be, but I know I am not there yet.

Another thing this sorry 'episode' in my life has made me is cynical. I have not always been but had become trusting and open, honest about who and what I am whether in person or here online. I have discovered I have become hard and detached, I am guarded and untrusting, I question and discard in a way I never used to.

I am the person I am because of all my lifes experiences, I am just getting used to being the one that this experience has made me.......

I have had lots of other happenings in my world, most of which seem insignificant with the passing days and some that will perhaps shape the person I will become in the future..... we will see with the telling....

Making Any More sense?

I have had a much needed holiday. In fact I have been back now a little over 3 weeks. It was a girly holiday, six of us all together for a week in glorious Portugal.

I have had a wonderful time, our days easy and relaxed.


We hit the beach each day, an easy 15 minute stroll down the road and as creatures of curious habit located a 'spot' on the beach that was to become 'ours' for the 7 days we were there.

Once settled with sunbed and sun umbrella we chatted, giggled, read, snoozed and braved the sea many times throughout the day, initially to cool down but the waves at times were tremendous and we have laughed so much while being pounded by the incoming surf!! I lost my favourite pair of sunglasses to an errant wave and we all nearly lost our bikini bottoms on several occasions!

Although fun and relaxing the week has been extremely hard at times. Many memories of where my life was at the last time we were all on holiday together a little over 2 years ago, sites and stuff I longed to share, well meaning advise being given, not always welcome opinions of stuff. All offered with love and care for me but at times hard to swallow. There is nothing anyone can say to me that I have not heard, thought or previously considered. The dreadful thing about advice is that it is only deemed 'good advice' if it is directing you in a direction you wish to go, anything other than what you want to hear is seen as an 'opinion' or 'interference'.......

The advise stretched to many areas of my life, my marriage, my health, my weight, all said with concern but being 'Northern Lasses' perhaps a little less tact than I was in need of.

Before I went away I asked my husband to consider carefully what he wanted us to do when I returned. I told him that we both deserved happiness and that because we are parents, homeowners and at a scary age to consider being alone, this shouldn't be the deciding factor. of course there was a lot more said but he agreed to think about what HE wanted while I was away.

It took 3 days and my eventual prod for him to raise the subject upon my return. And his only words were that he 'loves me deeply'. I perhaps should be content with that, so why aren't I? I told him that if we were to stand a chance of surviving we had to seek outside help, some sort of counselling. He 'agreed' and said he would sort something. To this date he hasn't and when queried he said we couldn't 'really afford it at the moment'.

Can you put a price on the rebuilding of a marriage if that is what you really want? Can we not cancel Sky TV for a while??
The other evening we went to bed at around the same time and I told him how sad and teary I felt. We hugged under the duvet and ended entwining ourselves together, no kisses, no carresses, but wrapped in each other. We fell asleep and woke briefly, overheated and disengaged before falling asleep again. I thought that maybe this would mark a new 'intimacy' for us, a glimpse of affection to be built upon, but I haven't been touched since. I really am now at despair stage. I feel over and over again I hand him the key only for him to put it down and forget about it over and over again. At what point do I throw it away and stop trying?

So boringly once again I write that I have some hard choices to make over the ensuing weeks/months and my feelings are mixed. Part of me feels at odds with all the decisions that need to be made, confused and emotional about what to do. Another part feels recharged and renewed and a little resolved. Whatever the future may hold, one thing is for sure I am determined it will hold a happier, healthier, whole me.

And so it seems I am at the end of all pre-posted blogs. I have posted them as written and now here they sit, for all the world to read, analyse and discard.

I previously wrote that I wasn't sure of the reasons I had felt the need to re-post all these words, suffice to say I have done and we have now reached the end. No more love affair to write about, no more secret liaisons to report, just the end.

I am now longer on my 'happy pills' and havent been for many weeks now. Am I 'cured'? Do I feel 'normal' now? Hell, what is normal!!?? I have good days and I have bad days. I have days of clear surety about what I feel and days of utter blackness where I don't want anything other than my duvet and a bottle of wine. Some days I am happy and laughter filled and full of positive vibes and others I know I am a misery to be around.

Oh don't get me wrong, I am able to paint on that happy persona each day, as I dress in my favourite lingerie, no longer stuffed at the back of the drawer like some precious momento of times gone by but worn and enjoyed again if only by me, as I sit at my dressing table and carefully apply the expensive makeup I prefer and spray myself with fragrance, I take a deep breath and face the day. For the most part I am able to portray the confident, smiley, humour-filled me that most people know and 'love'. As I say, some days are harder than others.

So I guess I will continue my 'journey' and attempt to make some sense of it all and I shall continue to write to empty my head and put my thoughts in place.

I love that a few of you read my Velveteen Days blog too, I shall keep this one for emotions me thinks and the othe rone for trinkets.....what do you think?

The week That Was

Originally Posted - 25 April 2009

Well! What a week! I have had this last week off from work, no particular reason and not for any major get away or escape.

As I blogged earlier I had a couple of really relaxing indulgent days, simple pleasures such as my favourite breakfast and spending a morning with my Mum and Dad (whose flower beds are full of happy faced pansies - the non kinky variety)

I had lunch with my best friend and spent 2 afternoons relaxing in what has been glorious sunshine, getting the first layer of tan on my skin and some much needed feel-good factor of Vitamin D.

Then late Thursday afternoon while in my care and out in the car with me, MIL had a mini-stroke (a TIA) and as soon as we got back home I had to call for the paramedics. We ended up at the local hospital and as her blood pressure was dangerously high and was showing no signs of falling, she was admitted. The whole procedure of admittance, diagnosis, blood tests, ECG's etc and finally getting her transported to another hospital that specialises in Strokes/TIA's, we finally got to bed and sleep about 4am in the morning!

All my lovely relaxed and chilled-ness straight out the window

Her first full day on the ward (yesterday) was a nightmare. I was called out twice to go and 'deal' with her and calm her down as she was being agressive and confrontational with the nurses and was due to have an MRI scan which they were doubting she would co-operate for.

Her face lit up when she saw me arrive - until she realised I wasn't going to take her home and then she was nasty and viscious tongued with me. I don't like her when she is like this, I know it is not 'her', I know it is the dementia, I know she is confused and afraid but my own Mum is such a sweet gentle affectionate lady, I am not used to dealing with someone who is antagonistic, awkward and down-right rude at times! I felt for the poor nurses who were busy trying to care for many patients who had suffered such serious damage as to be mute, helpless and immobile and they had to waste time trying to calm down and herd-up MIL who was determined to get out and catch the bus home in her nightie! The good news to all this is that it is now formally recognised that she has dementia and the process of getting support and help with her has been put into motion. There just has to be a silver lining somewhere in all this!

Yesterday was exhausting!

I got home and sent out an SOS text to db telling him a little of my day and saying how I so missed his friendship. He rang me and we talked for not far off an hour. Caught up on all the news, told him all about MIL, we asked after each other children and shared updates on their well-being and lives, we told of work issues and successes, and forthcoming events we each are looking forward to. We laughed together and chatted and it felt good.

I am not sure of the sense of having conversations or contact with him, I didnt come off the phone and sob helplessly as I once did, we signed off with a friendly 'bye' and 'take care' and I was smiling as I put down the phone. I have tried very hard not to dwell on news he shared with me or analyse any of the things we spoke about, I have tried not to read between the lines or try and interpret what he may have meant by certain comments. But one thing is for sure I am so glad to have spoken to him.

And so I am to return to work on Monday not quite as refreshed as I had hoped to be earlier in the week, but certainly with an eventful week behind me.

Every One2One......

Originally Posted - 22 April 2009

Over the past few weeks I have been reposting my old blogs on this site. These were the ones I wrote on my old MySpace profile; they documented my entrance into the online world of social networks, public blogging, the exploration of BDSM and more especially Femdom and ultimately my love affair. They latterly have been the ones that I have posted on the adult site I frequent as this is where 'my story' has left me.

I have been posting one blog each day, the first was originally written and posted back in October 2006. As I have previously written I am not quite sure of the reason I have felt the need to re-visit these blogs, perhaps a little of it is vanity, that I enjoy seeing my words up there on the screen, perhaps for posterity so all my words weren’t ‘wasted’ somehow but it has served a number of purposes.

Firstly it has been quite therapeutic, I try not to read ahead of the one I am posting, I try to wait until I am about to post it and then reread. I am not altering or editing them (only when it on occasion refers to a specific MySpace contact) and as I read I relive the times I have written of.

This has stirred some intense emotions, love, tears, fear as well as laughter and I find myself smiling or giggling to myself as I remember certain times.

For the most part things are exactly as I can recall them, there are some small details or events that I have forgotten and it makes me grin/ache/hurt* (delete as appropriate) when I reread them.

But when it comes to my affair at times I read the words I wrote and think how I could have been so blind. I wrote with such passion and confidence in the love that I felt, blinded into thinking and feeling that what I felt was good and right and proper. Now sometimes I read and I almost cringe at how I may have misinterpreted some occurrence or other.

In my defence all I can say is that you do or say or try for what you feel is right at the time. I truly believed that I had met the man I could spend the rest of my life with, the man who could make me feel a precious part of his life and that in turn I could make him feel the amazing person I believed him to be.

As we all know now it was not to be but it has taught me some important lessons about myself and they way I throw myself into people, believing that if I give my absolute all and make sure no barriers are in the way, that if I make myself available to someone as and when they want/need me that they will feel the same and love me back.

I have learnt a valuable lesson about my own self worth in all this. I spoke to a couple of submissive guys in the chatroom recently who were discussing the idea that a lot of sub men have low self-esteem.

I don’t agree, I think to a degree we all suffer self doubt and insecurity, I think as a bunch of people we all ‘like’ to pigeon hole ourselves, it tidies things up, keeps things neat.

But I will openly admit I am a Domme woman with low self-esteem and (at times) a pitiful self image. I get by like most people by putting on a wonderful front, a façade behind which to take on the world. I believe that whatever path we take in life, vanilla, Femdom or the myriad of other human quirks there will be a selection of folks spanning from overconfident arrogance to the broken and paranoid. I do believe it may influence the roles we find ourselves living within but I don’t believe it to be a hard and fast rule.

What my experience has taught me is that if I don’t like myself I cannot expect others to, if I have no pride in myself how can others feel proud of me, if I want to be cherished and adored I need to love myself too.

The hardest thing has been getting to this point. I won’t ever ‘get over’ my lover, I will live with him as part of my life, I used to love a certain mobile phone advert which claimed that “You are every One2One you’ve ever had”.

I am the person I am today because of all I have experienced in my life, including the last two and half years and I am now re-living those times in order to put into place all I have learnt from it and move on while still striving to keep the 'me' intact that I enjoy being and so many people have shared a ‘one to one’ with. I hope that I impart a little of me in all of you.

Loathsome Creatures!

Originally Posted - 11 April 2009

There is often a stereo-type Domme portrayed – a man hating-amazonian woman, taking pleasure from the squirming pieces of worthless male excrement crawling at her feet not worthy of pleasuring her as a lover but merely for her amusement and entertainment.

While there may be a few out there in the real world, who even if not actual haters of male scum, enjoy the theatre of playing such a role and no doubt countless men get-off on such fantasies. Most of us (sorry to disappoint you guys) are normal human beings, with feelings and care and real lives. I know it’s a bummer isn’t it!? Like discovering there is no Father Christmas and the Tooth Fairy isn’t real!

Myself I have always written how I adore men. I love their bodies, their masculinity. I have no desire, other than for sexual amusement and fun, to feminize my man. I find I am drawn to men online that come across as strong, masculine and dependable characters, not because I wish to ‘break’ them or emasculate them but because I genuinely enjoy male company.

I must also add at this point that a ‘strong’ man, for me, also has manners, respect and courtesy. I don’t tolerate insolence nor fools, whatever the gender.

So it has shocked me greatly to uncover that in a matter of mere days I have become a man-loathing Domina. It has occurred to me that the two men I have loved latterly have both been incapable of taking responsibility for their own decisions, actions, deceit and lies. They have both shown sides to themselves I despise.

I know this may sound rich coming from a woman who has conducted an adulterous affair under her husbands nose for nigh on 2 years, I am not that naïve or hypocritical not to see how that might read, but as I have previously blogged my discontent within my marriage was known by my husband a full 3 years prior to my lover and once discovered I was totally (at times brutally) honest and open about my carryings on.

This is very different from how the men in my life have conducted themselves.
My lover I shall leave well alone, it is written, it has been told, from both sides and I will not be revisiting.

But my husband now has proved to be no better.

While I was otherwise engaged in extra-marital activities he embarked upon an affair of his own. I had no reason to be perturbed by this as I was in love and planning a new life of my own when the time was right.

Since the end of my affair my husband has graciously given me space to grieve the loss of my lover. When I finally felt brave enough to face ‘real life’ once more, we spoke at length about where this has left ‘us’ and whether or not we felt we had any sort of future together as a couple. Neither of us were terribly sure but agreed to take it slowly and take care of each other, to see whether once a little more healed any of the love we must have felt once could be rekindled.
Gradually I have felt emotionally stronger. I still love db, a part of me always will, the love I felt for him was deep and strong and very, very real but I began to believe that I could feel love again for my husband once more.

I told him I was ready to ‘try’ but that I didn’t expect him to put a stop to his liaison unless or until he wanted to as I felt it might put extra ‘pressure’ on us.

After 2 or 3 weeks he suddenly announced he was meeting her, that he was going to tell her that we had decided we were going to rebuild things and that he could no longer see her. I asked if he was sure, he said he was and that seeing her felt wrong for him now.
We have been getting along fairly well, bonded by the common goal of caring for MIL, we have laughed together, worried together and made loose plans for the summer.

It has now come to light that he has been lying, he is still seeing her, still meeting her and still exchanging explicit text messages with her.

I am angry and disappointed.

If he doesn’t want me he should be man enough to say, if he is not willing to put in the effort to rebuild things (though he hasn’t done for the previous 6 years so why I am shocked he isn’t now I’m not sure!?) then he should say, if he doesn’t want to stop seeing her then at least be honest and say.

But he is weak and spineless and has lied and I am angry.

He may have been willing to hang around for 2 years and wait for the end or conclusion of my affair but I am not. I never would have been. He would have been left or thrown out or I would have fought vehemently if I had considered it all worth the fight!

He has done none of the above.

There are 3 reasons I am still here typing this today – my two beautiful daughters and my lovely MIL who really is too confused to deal with domestic disharmony. So I shall stay until things with her have been clarified.

So…there you have it folks! Overnight it seems I have morphed into a fantastical man-hating Domme who thinks all males are worthless pieces of scum that have no place other than under the sole of my shoe. So sign up now all you fools who think it might be fun to be despised and loathed and love the idea of the humiliation

For The Love of God

Originally Posted - 26 Mar 2009

It has been nearly a week since MIL arrived at my home.
She has improved a fair bit during that time, a visit to the doctor here has seen a change of drugs she is on. She has gained a little strength but at times still seems terribly confused.

She insists that she can get a bus 'home', to All Saint, to Antigua. We cannot get her to understand the concept that she has flown here for nigh on 10 hours to be here in England.

Its only been the last 2 days that she has known who we all are, but she hugs me and compliments my cooking, calls me 'sweetheart', she needs help to wash and dress and her mental clarity comes and goes.

I feel very protective of her, my girls adore her and don't seem at all fazed by Nana's odd rambling at times but the most healing touch of all I feel, has been the consistent, gentle and calming care of my husband who spent the first 5 days here at home with her. It has highlighted his patience, steadiness and solid presence.

MIL talks a lot of God, her love for God, that God always comes to her aid, is there for her, provides for her, takes care of her. The cynic in me mumbles that it isn't God that has been up 3 times in the night to her, that is washing and dressing her and doing her laundry, but I nod and smile and while we have been chatting we have agreed that when she needed help God has brought her to her family for care.

I am not a believer. I have thoughts on 'God' which will wait for another blog, but maybe he has brought her to us for us to give her the care she needs. And in doing so has shown me the wonderful man I have been married to and shared my life with. Maybe he will be so kind as to point out my good traits to my patient husband too.

This week I have re-placed my wedding ring which was removed from my finger the day before I slept with db for the first time and has been absent from my finger since. It didn't 'feel' right to wear it any longer. Its been a long 20 months, time enough for the indentation to fade and disappear, the pale skin beneath to tan and blend in.

This week I feel like his wife again and it feels slightly heavy and noticeable of my finger, but perhaps that is a good thing.

It has long been said that 'God' moves in mysterious ways

She Has Arrived....

Originally Posted - 21 Mar 2009

She has arrived.

My Mother-In-Law. Known as MIL from now on.

MIL lives in Antigua, we last visited her in 2002 but sadly as both our girls now are considered adults for air fares it has been prohibitively expensive for all of us to visit her since.

She has been back to England twice in the following years and we have seen her as often as possible with committments such as work and school.

She has now had a stroke and is unwell. My Brother-In-Law (BIL) has been over to see her and found her in a bad way, he has stayed with her for 6 weeks while she gained strength enough to make the journey 'home' and she has arrived here this morning.

It has been decided that to give him a much needed break from playing nursemaid and to give him and his wife some time together she is to stop, at least for the time being, with us.

My youngest has vacated her room for her and we will settle her in later, the eldest has arranged to stop over at her boyfriends for the coming week (4 doors down the road so she will still be about)so her sister can be in her room.

We have settled her in and given her breakfast, her tablets for the day and a cup of tea. And now she sleeps.

Hubby is tired as he drove to pick them up from airport, a 3 hour journey to meet a 5.30am flight arrival. So while she sleeps I have sent him back up to bed.

And I watch her sleep.

We are not sure of her age, she has always been very secretive, denying her age to carry on working well past the usual retirement age. She had come to this country back in 1961 on her sisters passport and birth certificate, a sister 10 years her senior? So she is anywhere between 75 and 85 we are not sure, and it really doesn't seem relevant as she reclines on my sofa, soft blanket over her, her greying hair showing clearly in the absence of help to get it coloured, no longer the fiesty fierce talking spritely woman I have known almost half my life, but now a frail, fragile and confused old lady.

And I watch her sleep. I tiptoe around my own home as I did when bringing my first newborn home, afraid to wake her, knowing she was safe while sleeping, cursing the phone ringing or the doorbell, secure in the knowledge that her sleep meant she did not need me. Safe. I feel that now.

She has arrived and I don't know quite what her future holds, or ours, but I feel that her arrival might mark a new closeness for me and Hubby, our common goal to make MIL feel loved and safe and cared for.

Hanging on a Wing and a Prayer

Originally Posted - 7 Mar 2009

I went to see my counselor the other Friday and she is referring me to see a psychotherapist. I am not sure how I am supposed to feel about that, she has been seeing me for a while and she feels I could do with weekly sessions and that I would benefit from going down this route.

She simply said that she thought referring me to CBT (which is Cognitive Behavioral Therapy for those not in the know) or a psychotherapist would be beneficial and asked me what I thought. I said that she knew what these two processes involved and as she knew me, which did she think I would benefit most from. She said the psycho-therapy.

She asked how I felt about attending a group session or would I prefer 1 to1 meetings and I told her that either would be acceptable to me. She then decided that she thought the 1 to1’s would be better for me as in a group she suspected I would spend my whole time making sure everyone else was ok. Hmmmm.

So now I have to wait for my time to be arranged. I have to admit to being afraid and a little upset at this turn of events. There is part of me that wants to tell them all I am fine and I will stop the anti-depressants and that I no longer need the counseling and that it is all just fine and dandy. But there is a bit of me that is curious and relieved and wants to get to the root of what has set my world so askew the last few years.

It is so easy to blame my extra-marital affair and its subsequent breakup, but I was on happy pills a full 10 months before I ever met db and had discussed the possibility of ending my marriage a further 6 months prior to that. Far from risking the break up with my husband I actually think that it had made it possible to stay. While I was feeling loved and desired and had my interludes of happiness with my lover, it made my loveless, sexless existence at home bearable, possible, and acceptable.

I made a wish on the new moon the other evening. I wished I would feel like me again soon.

I bet you all thought I would wish that db would come back to me didn’t you. But I don’t waste wishes on futile things or things I am not even sure would be a good idea anymore. That’s not strength talking, more an acceptance of what is likely and what is not.

He always wrote and mentioned my confidence. It is a front; anyone who truly knows me knows that. It is all a beautiful facade to hide the scared, unsure and insecure person, the woman who doesn’t feel beautiful or gorgeous or brave or strong but feels rather fragile and confused.

We all have to live with the choices we have made in life. I chose to have an affair; he also chose to embark on a love affair with me. He now wants her; he has chosen her and so we must both get on with the choices that have been made, whether they were made by us or for us.

I have to rise above all this and I am getting there, some days are easier than others, some days are terrible and some days, like today, seem to be wonderful and then just one single, foolish thought or memory nestles in my mind and germinates like an over-enthusiastic cress seed and before I know it I am awash with feelings of utter sadness.

I don’t fight it. I let it run its course. I weep, sob, wail into the void until it has exhausted itself and me and then I dry my eyes and blow my nose and go about my day.

At times like this I am not a Domme, everything about play and femdom reminds me of him, of us. The thought of play and creating tasks and games all equates to him and that hurts, I can’t do it.

I am sexually adventurous, I am happy to explore and experiment, but I am not a woman who claims they were born Domme and have just been ‘awakened’ and discovered their true selves.
I became a Domme for a man who sent my head spiraling and my body craving, because I was curious, inquisitive and intrigued, because I am adventurous and will try anything once and because I adore sexual contact and sensations. My Domme style, if I have one, is sexual and sensual and fun and intense and creative. I became a Domme because he was curious and I loved him and I wanted to explore it with him and I did and I thrilled to it and would have carried on and on and developed it further.

But we are over, and at times I feel Tormentress is over, I feel a failure and a let down, I feel a fraud at the adult site we frequented.

Last week I packed up two boxes and sealed them, one with all my cards, letters, my teddy, books, stories and poems in, the other with all our sex toys. I packaged them all up and I have given them to my best friend to keep for me.
Now they are out the way and when I am strong enough and brave enough to discard them I will ask her to destroy them for me. It will be when I feel I can do it.

But in the meantime I shall regroup, heal, keep taking the happy pills, attend the therapy and wait for my world to regain its balance. It will, I just need to be patient and not be fretful.

A very dear friend of mine said to me today that one of the strongest weapons against the anguish we sometimes feel is very simple. It is someone saying, “Hey, I’m here. I’m for you. Just hang on a bit longer”

So that’s what I am doing, just hanging on a bit longer…….

Prizes, Parcels and Absent Playmates

Originally Posted - 26 Feb 2009

I have received a parcel this week.

A few of you may remember that back in December I entered the 'Christmas Dickoration' competition here on the forum.
I was impressed by the entries and it made me so wish I had a 'dick' of my own to decorate! So for a bit of fun and to make the point that I was missing out here with the absence of a willing 'dick', I decorated the only one I have access to these days, my super-shiny-purple dildo

Much to my amazement I won! And this week my parcel has winged its way to me and I am now in possession of a wonderful chastity belt!!

Oh how it has made me wish for my playmate. All the games we played with chastity, the home-made devices, the mackled-together strappings and now I have this wonderful piece with soft black straps, shiny strong buckles and tight tiny padlocks to keep it all in place and no db to 'enjoy' it.

Which leads me to other thoughts that I have resisted writing about and been reluctant to put down in words, not wanting to 'air dirty laundry' or hurt or offend people who may read but these thoughts fill my head and I need to empty it and exorcise some of them.

I still think of db every day, many times a day, first thing in my day and last thing in my night. I miss him, I miss us, I miss our friendship, our chatter, laughter, fun, gossip, humor. I miss his hugs and his kisses. I miss sitting, walking, standing beside him. I miss making love with him and I miss our play. Oh how I miss our wonderful play

Though the sex side is really the least of it all. I had always believed we were so much more than sex even though all our play and much of our contact was very sexual. My libido has returned although it is not quite sure where and how to direct itself since I am not being 'intimate' with my husband. So I have ignored many of the thoughts and sensations and resorted to physical release without the emotions of thought

We have now (more or less) severed all contact with each other, we have to, he was once again often lying to his wife about the contact we were making and I know that as much as my head knew it was just contact that my heart ached for it to mean more than it can do. I wanted it to mean he misses me, I wanted it to mean that he still thinks of me, I wanted it to mean he still wanted me on some level or other. I can't allow myself want or feel that anymore. I have to let go.

I could talk and discuss us and dissect us and analyse us with him till the cows come home and it would change nothing, it is pointless and futile. He made his choice, he chose to end us, nothing will alter that and yet still I play scenarios in my head, over and over and over like a groundhog day movie.

Our first kiss, believed by his wife to be all down to me, remembered by me as being so tentative and nervous by us both, had he held back or resisted physical contact I would not have made a move, anyone who knows me, I mean really knows me, knows that I am not confident enough to do that, knows that I just dont have enough belief in myself to be that upfront and forceful until I am made to feel that confidence. I remember sitting with him that first meeting, coffee growing cold on the table in front of us while he kissed my face, every area of my face, my cheeks and jawline, my nose, my brow, my eyelids, softly peppered with kisses. My wrists, my palms, each finger tip touched with gentle kisses. I did not force that upon him, did not make him do that.

I remember the first time we had sex, he seemed so confident to me, I remember him teasing me for 'hiding' under the duvet and peeling it back as he kissed down my body, admiring my lingerie but telling me breathlessly it was 'coming off', kissing every inch of me and whispering I was gorgeous, I did not make him do that, if anything I had felt seduced.

And yet it is me now that plays these scenes through my head trying to remember how the really were, not how I think either he has portrayed them to his wife (or how she has interpreted in the telling) but how they really felt. I still feel I am trying to justify my love for him to myself, to prove to myself I wasnt just a gullible fool that was carried along by it all, but a women deeply in love with a man who had given her every reason to truly believe he felt the same.

I want him, me, my friends, all of you to truly believe that I never for one moment imagined, meant or felt that I was forcing the affair upon him. The thought is abhorrent to me

And so once again I feel lost and hurt and lonely, yes, alone. Still in much the same place as I was in before i met him except this time having known a love that felt so passionate, so intense, so consuming that I am not sure i will ever feel the same again.

But I have my wonderful chastity belt my prize, my parcel, I just still miss my darling playmate....

St Valentines Day Massacre

Originally Posted - 15 Feb 2009

I have had a bit of a struggle this last week.

A myriad of reasons really but just a wee catalogue of bummers that have made me feel low and spookily fragile again.

My cousins 23 year old son has lymphoma and is currently receiving intense chemotherapy in an effort to halt or slow down its progress, my period is now 16 days late and although there is no doubt whatsoever that it is nothing more than ‘my age’ it pisses me off and makes me feel grouchy, I have been following the terror and heartache of people I have grown to care about caught up in the fires in Victoria, on Monday a gorgeous, vibrant man I have known since we were at Junior school together lost his fight for life after major heart surgery and db and I have agreed that we should finally sever all contact with each other as it appears he has been keeping in touch ‘to help me’. I will NOT be an obligation, I am better than that.

It was also agreed a fortnight ago that hubby and I would take a week to ‘make an effort’ with each other, spend some quality time, (he) watch less tv, (me) spend less time on the internet. We would go out together, talk to each other and generally see if we can rub those two sticks together and if not get a spark at least see a bit of smoke….

It never happened. First night he went out with ‘lady friend’, second day he said perhaps we ought to start after the Super Bowl, there were no nights out mentioned and after 5 days of our ‘week’ I sat him down and asked him why it was not panning out as it could have done. I asked him to write a list of all the things that he didn’t like about me (what!?!? My friends cried!! Are you mad!!??) but I wanted to know what it was that was stopping him from putting in what I saw as any effort at all when he has ‘told’ me that he wishes us to stay together and try.

Quite frankly the list when it was done was feeble and it made me question if he really ever knew me at all. He said he had wanted ‘the little woman’, I have NEVER been the little woman, it is not that I was and then have changed! We went through the rest of the week with as much enthusiasm as a cat in a bath!

So add a failed week of marriage building to the scenario.

I know that I can’t expect things to be a quick fix, least of all in a mere week, maybe not ever but shit if we cant make a success of 7 short days there isn’t much hope for the rest of our lives.

Yesterday was Valentines Day, a day for lovers

I received flowers. I had a take away and watched a movie while nibbling chocolates. And then I spent almost an hour chatting to a lovely man who made me smile, laugh and solved my problems with his attention to detail and determination to get to the root of my discontent.

The perfect Valentines Day? No she’s says laughing so as not to appear bitter.



The flowers were a bunch from the supermarket still with the price on paid for by my wages when he nipped to get some groceries, given to me with the words “I know we’re not really doing Valentines but I thought you’d like these”, the chocolates were bought for me and my daughter to share, the takeaway was McDonalds because my daughter was late getting home from her friends and we grabbed it instead of cooking, the film was lovely and watched with my daughter while my husband met his ‘lady friend’ for a drink in the evening and the man on the phone? A lovely guy named Anil in the ‘aol’ call centre in Delhi who solved my connection problems at 10pm last night after not being able to get on the internet all day.

In actual fact although I sound bitter I really don’t feel it, I actually feel that the time is coming for some decisions where it is not just me who is seen as the failure, the bad guy, but where we both have to take responsibility for the shambles we find ourselves in.

Hope you all had a successful and romantic day and to mike and jack, thank you for my Valentine messages, they made me smile.

The Key to a Woman

Originally Posted - 9 Feb 2009

I am a frequent visitor to my favourite chat room and have met some wonderfully entertaining and warm people here, many are now people I think of as real friends and I have developed genuine affection for them.

It was during one of my afternoon visits a few days ago when I found myself alone in the room with five submissive guys, some of them regulars who I have chatted to before and a couple of new guys who were exploring.

The chat was funny, friendly and flirty and made me smile lots! Among the banter were some pretty predictable suggestions about what I could do with them all and some enquiries about how to take their exploration a little further.

I don’t do random play in the chatroom, so harmless banter abound I kept them entertained for a while. Some were talking about the ladies in their lives and it made me think about how I, as a woman, long to be treated.

I told them that the best piece of advice I could give them, Femdom not excluded but not the priority, was to treat a woman how you want her to be.

Simple…..the key to a woman....

I know I have written extensively and nauseatingly about my lost love but the simple truth remains.

He treated me differently. He told me I was beautiful, he treated me like I was precious; he made love to me like I was the most desirable woman alive, he addressed me with total love, respect and adoration, our time together was as if we were magical and any contact with him made me feel loved, wonderful and amazing.

I was ALL those things to him, for him, with him because that was how he made me feel.

My husband has told me he doesn’t ‘fancy’ me, he doesn’t find me particularly arousing, he treats me like a failure because our home isn’t spotless and pristine (he tells me now 20yrs after he married me he really wanted me to be 'the little woman at home'), he treats me as if I were invisible seeming to prefer sport on Sky to my company. And that is what I had become and sadly what I fear more than anything becoming again.

An invisible, un-fanciable, failed housekeeper.

But I am not! I am beautiful, warm, funny and desirable! What I am working on now is not relying on other people to make me feel this way, but finding ways of making myself feel those things….so I can hold my head up high and face the world with a smile.

So my suggestion all you out there, is treat that woman how you wish her to be, it may just work!

"You cannot remind me - I never forget"

Originally Posted - 29 Jan 2009

All of us I guess have lost to death someone that they love. The most recent and real for me was my beloved Auntie, my mummy’s twin sister and my Godmother. The pain you feel is physical and real and washes over you at random moments for a long time after the initial loss. Fortunately my experiences with bereavement have, so far, been relatively minimal and confined to elderly relatives.

I read an article this week written by a woman who lost her younger sister to a road traffic accident. It was beautifully written and described how she felt about and dealt with her loss, how she is still dealing with it on a daily basis and how friends and family both reacted to her and helped or hindered her in her grief.

I have been ‘lucky’ in that I have never lost anyone quite that close but while reading the piece she had written, I was struck by the parallels that bereavement has with heartbreak.

I have mentioned before how I have felt ‘bereft’ at the loss of my lover and how hard some days are to deal with and reading this woman’s recount of the period after her sisters death I was not overly shocked to see comparisons to how my emotions have irrationally run away with me at times.

She wrote of her incapacity to function and perform the most basic daily tasks, how even washing hair and dressing became challenges. I knew that, I had been there, that first week when I barely slept, couldn’t eat and didn’t shower for 4 days.

In one of the final paragraphs she wrote “I will never get over it, because I will never get over her. I have discovered that grief is not something that I had to go through, but rather something that I have to learn to live with……..it is an element of 'new' me, a person dramatically altered by my experience”

That is very much how I feel, that somehow by all I have shared and experienced I can and will never be the same again. What I have to attempt to do is make me a better ‘me’ not a lesser ‘me’, to draw a positive from the part of my life so enjoyed but now lost.

“….that when a person dies they do not disappear and you do not simply move on….the loved one, the lost one leaves an everlasting imprint on those left behind……. (death) is a redefinition of a relationship, not an end to it”

And reading those words actually gave me comfort, that what I have been feeling, what I still feel is not madness or idiotic, it’s not my depression. I am quite simply grieving. Bereft. Mourning the loss of someone I love with all my heart and I am just trying to find ways to move forward, move on but still remember that part of my life.

I have some serious decisions to make over the next few weeks, I have to find out where the path now lies for me, I have to discover what I want and make it happen. Those words are not written with wonderful foresight or passion, they are not conjured out of a desire to seem upbeat and positive, they are just flat, simple facts.

I am sorry for any one I have hurt, am hurting or will hurt. But most of all, selfishly I am sorry for me

Different Strokes

For better or worse I have decided to continue with my unravelling......
I have been home from my holiday over a week now and I did very much reconsider, but I do feel to a degree this is all part of the healing process for me, so I shall continue. Here goes....

Originally Posted - 24 Jan 2009

I have been reading some of the posts and blogs that have been posted here, some new, some older. Many from people far more experienced than me, some from people with less knowledge. But it has set my mind thinking and pondering and ruminating again with regard to my time spent here exploring, learning and meeting people.

I am very aware that we are all human beings and as such have every variety of human traits, strengths, weaknesses, issues and desires. It makes every single one of us as obviously different as our appearance. It means that we all have different opinions, standards and acceptances within our lives.

It makes me smile when there are posts from male submissives declaring that all we females are superior, stronger, wiser and the world should be organised to allow female supremacy, and while it is a lovely idea that all you mere males are inferior to me I know that isn’t so, but I try to respect another’s opinion and thoughts, if that’s the idea that thrills them, floats their boat then so be it.

Equally I have a hard time accepting that all men really do wish to be submissive and should learn to recognise this trait, that all women should want to take on the role of dominant partner, that it is just with education and guidance that all of man (and woman) kind can take on this kind of lifestyle.

Surely as members and visitors to a site such as this, we of all people should have a broader view that there are some who will never understand what we enjoy and explore, just as some of us (switches not included) could never contemplate being in a male dominated coupling, that it is different strokes for different folks and that there is no right or wrong way to conduct oneself, only that we respect another persons choices and preferences.

Each one of us attempts to find the right balance in our relationships, whether it is within a friendship, business partnership, marriage or family. I find that people often write things that seems to be made a great deal of because it is being referred to in a D/s scenario but that really is just as valid in any relationship that we find ourselves dealing with, that there has to be respect and trust and compromise in all circles.

The thing I find rather sad is that as a submissive many seem to accept what is on offer, that they don’t have the strength or experience or rapport to actually consider that their needs are important, it is not just about what is right, proper and good for the Domme, but also about what feels good and rewarding and satisfying for the sub too.

I am not talking purely sexual, any of us that have ‘played’ intensely with someone we care about will know that there is so much more to it than merely the sexual buzz although that of course is where much of this starts. It is like saying that making love is just sex, there is something so much more than just the physical when you truly make love with someone and the same can be said for play.

Of course I am well aware that some people need and crave this to be taken extremely seriously while others merely wish to dabble and have casual liaisons, again it is what makes us all so different, but I do think that is what makes it so important to make sure that whatever relationship you find yourself in your needs are met and matched.

I truly believe that while a man should be thrilled and proud to be accepted as a submissive by his Domme, that she should also be honoured that he gives himself to her. That without her he is isn't a sub, but equally without him she is no more a Domme than a wet lettuce leaf, that there has to be that mutual respect. But of course that is only my humble opinion and that as such should be humored and tolerated as any others.

It is no good judging and forming opinions on someone’s life and thoughts when deep down we know that it is our very human nature that leads to all the different make ups of human characters and personalities.

Passport at The Ready

I am off to Portugal for a few days for a holiday with 5 girl friends and so there will be a gap in my postings for a while.

Will I resume my posts when I return? I am not sure. There are a few more, but I began this blog to work over all the things that had brought me to this point in my life from the last two and half years.

Has it helped me? Hmmm, thats a toughy.

Am I feeling any better for posting them? Again I am not sure, they have served the purpose of reminding of moments I had forgotten and have looked at differently with hindsight ( awonderful thing that should be available from all good Opticians free of charge!).

After my holiday I have some soul searching and decisions to make so I will perhaps use my blog to empty my mind and formulate thoughts in a different way.

Thank you for all of you who have read so far....... see you when I am tanned and relaxed!

Open Letter to db

Hello,

RIP db.

I know you will read this, I know you will log in at some point and take a peep and I know you will read my words.

I have often read ‘open letters’ in magazines and thought how bizarre it is to write publicly to someone words that are often so private and personal. And yet here I am writing words myself. Why? Because I want not only you but my wee world here to know that I am ok, fine, better than fine and surviving.

Only you and I know the details of the conversations we have had over the last 6 days, only you know of the deepest of hurt I have felt and only I know the reasons you have caused me that hurt, the words that have cut the deepest.

Even in the relationship that we so proudly hailed as ‘dealing only in honesty’ it seems that there have been misunderstandings. Although I know that we really did fall deeply in love and I have no doubt that the love you felt was real, (I have looked into your eyes, looked into your soul and you have exposed and given yourself to me in such ways that there can be no doubt) that our love really was just a wonderful fantasy, that although maybe at some level you really thought that we could be ‘real’ that when it came to it you knew our world was ‘fantastical’.

I have been shocked at how badly this has hurt me, almost broken me....almost. It has been many years since I have experienced heartbreak and like childbirth, nature and time has a wonderful way of making us forget the terrifying pain that you feel, so it has shocked me that I have felt so mentally debilitated and physically broken by the grief I have felt.

It seems that once we had fallen for each other that at the time we both, I know I certainly did, thought that we were so in tune with each others emotions that we both craved the same. And I think that while we were in each others company we did.

I tried very hard never to put pressure on you to feel that you had to give more than you were willing or able, we knew we were both married with a family, I knew you had said you could and would never leave and although I never asked you to do so you knew that I would have given up what was left of my marriage for a chance for us.

I had freedom, independent income, time and as your time, freedom, resources were all limited to give us the chance to meet on first and subsequent occasions I made myself as available as possible whenever, wherever and as easily as possible. By phone, on the net and in person. I thought it was what we both wanted; I still believe that at the time it was what we both wanted.

It seems now that the love you felt for me was a weight around your neck, it seems you have issues saying no or refusing anything ask of you by someone you love and although you have publicly written that I was the ONLY person that you ever have stood up to, it now seems you believe that my love for you 'manipulated' you to do and feel things that were not at ease doing or feeling.

That idea had caused me as much pain as our separation.

I have two options. I can hate and be bitter and scream into the void that you are despised and a liar and you have twisted everything I and we have felt for each other.
Or I can forgive and move on and remember the love we had as something special and magical.

I don’t want to tarnish what we had. I want to have happy and joyous memories. Some of the things we shared, places, experiences, laughter, friendship have been some of the happiest, most exciting, funniest and erotic of my whole life. I don’t want to look back on that with regret or sadness, I want to be able to remember it all with pride and pleasure.

When things were good between us we made each other feel amazing people. You made me feel brave and beautiful, confident and carefree, delicious and desirable. I want to hold onto those feelings, just because you are no longer around to tell me I am those things is no reason for me to lose that feeling. I hope one day that you will be able to believe that you were the person I believed in. I really did believe in you.

You say you are terrified because you let me so far into your life that I have the power to destroy you. What is that signature line we have quoted so often? “Love is giving someone the ability to destroy you and trusting them not to”

I loved you. I will never destroy you although you gave me the ‘ability’ to. Trust me, trust what was us.

We are over, we are ended. I have hurt and I still do but I am whole and happy and will continue to grow and be the woman I grew to like.

Take care. Be you and strive for the happiness that we all deserve. Goodbye db.

Happy New Year To Me...

Originally Posted - 11 Jan 2009

Happy New year to me! Yes I know, I know, it was January the 1st ten days ago, and yes you all made new years resolutions to eat less, exercise more, give up smoking, buy a thicker butt plug, I know, I know!

But I didn't. I slipped 'effortlessly' from 2008 to 2009 without as much as a murmur about turning a new leaf or being resolved.

But tonight is Tormentress' New Years Eve, I haven't found a new religion or discovered ancient ancestral roots in some far flung land that has a different calender, I have just made today, tonight, the end of my year and tomorrow morning when I wake it will be a new one, a new day, a new week, a new month and a new year.

I am not going to make rash promises about how many gyms I will join, how many calories I shall uncount or how I will spend less, I am not about to embark of a morning ritual of urine-drinking or become vegan and I am not going give more to charity.

In simple words, when I wake up tomorrow I am going to live, I am going to draw breath deep into my lungs and start a new spark of life in my heart, I am going to open my sleepy blue eyes and drink in the dull morning light and start the rest of my life.

As me.

A strong, bright, worthy person. And woe betide anyone who tries to belittle, deceive or take that away from me this year.

Happy New Year to Me

The Capital Revisited.....

Originally Posted - 1 Jan 2009

Oh what a different experience this time.

Of course you may remember that back in the summer I blogged about my visit to London with db, my wonderful adventure into the capital with my sub-lover, he took me on the London Eye, we wandered around in the balmy evening crowds, ate Chinese, visited a ‘magical’ wine bar and perused the shops in Soho. It was a wonderful day, he wearing my recently presented collar, me so proud and thrilled and confident with him by my side.

Christmas has been both lovely and emotionally painful at the same time, my brother and parents spending time with us, my girls a year older each Christmas changing the dynamics as they become young adults, calm relaxing days at home indulging in too much food and drink, and of course familiar warm company in the form of my long-suffering husband.

As we were all thrown together for New Years Eve, no party invites, no visitors planned and 2 girls who would grumble at the ‘boring’ night in, I suggested that we drive the 100+ miles down to the capital and witness for ourselves the festivities that we watch from the safety and warmth of our living rooms each year. The suggestion was greeted with first tentative then enthusiastic yes’s!

And so that is what we did! Armed with hats, scarves and gloves donned in layers and secure bags we set off down the motorway and headed to ‘town’.


We arrived safely and easily and the girls got excited as the spotted landmarks, the Natural History Museum surrounded by tiny-fairy-light festooned trees, Harrods (obscenely lit up like some Arab temple), Harvey Nicks with its classy sale windows, and finding ourselves in a ‘fairly familiar’ area and not knowing quite where all the road closures would kick in, we decided to park and take to the streets.


We wrapped ourselves in the coats and garb stashed in the boot, memorised streets and surrounding building to locate ourselves and headed off in the general direction of the ‘action’. We passed though Royal Parks and Buckingham Palace, Park Lane (the girls intrigued at the huge queue of young party-goers waiting to enter into a rather exclusive looking hotel for what was probably a disgustingly expensive night out), we trekked down traffic-less streets as vehicles were diverted away from the centre, we followed fellow ‘revellers’ convinced that everyone knew where they were going except us! Eventually the London Eye all lit with coloured lights came into view, our destination, directions to viewing areas lit up to follow.



So many sites and sounds, the girls first taste of big city life on a New Years Eve (crowds in our home city centre will never again seem daunting by comparison), Police presence on every corner, mounted Police parading in the street (avoiding the horse shit became as big a challenge as finding the way) and every nationality of every shape and size seemed to fill the streets.

We eventually made the decision to head down the Strand to view it all from Waterloo Bridge. (I was a little disappointed that we weren’t directly facing the display but found being where I had been with db very painful at times so with hindsight was probably best where we were) I stood with my family, looking at my beautiful girls glowy and chilled from the night air, my husband by my side protective of his brood, wiggling to broadcast music played over huge speakers as the hour or so turned to mere minutes till the new day arrived.

The countdown…..10, 9, 8……..and everyone chanted along……5, 4…….we all smiling at each other among the crowd…….2, 1….HAPPY NEW YEAR!! 2009!! Big Ben struck midnight accompanied by the boom of 12 explosive fireworks synchronised with each bong of the huge bell, we all hugged and then the crowd fell strangely quiet as the fireworks began!


It was an experience. I am not sure one I would wish to do again but an experience never the less. I remembered how safe and secure I had felt with db in the summer, my man beside me who was familiar with London life and streets, who knew where he was taking me and where we were visiting, who pointed out places of interest and landmarks and I thought how at odds I felt while there with my family but I think now looking back it was because I had my girls with me, my nurture and protect head was on, not the carefree reveller but the responsible parent, we grasped a ‘child’ each and clung on as we headed back through the crowds, aware of drunken rowdiness and the heaving partiers. (Around 700,000 the papers report today!)

And as we left and I looked back at the huge London Eye still illuminated against the night sky, framed by trees and buildings, I remembered my first view of it back in July with db and my eyes sprang with tears and I gripped onto my beautiful daughter and trekked on back to the car.

We passed back through the streets, returning over the park, passing the earlier party-goers from the posh hotel, not immune by their expensive night out from the indignity of sitting crumpled in the gutter as they puked on their shoes and argued with their girlfriends. We got back to the warmth of our car and headed back home, travelling the still busy streets and speeding through the night returning to “The North” as the motorway signs so quaintly call it. And we arrived back safely, our family, to our warm home and beds and the beginning of a new year for us to face, new challenges to deal with and maybe new hope for a kind and calm year.

Happy New Year, may it bring you whatever dreams you hold in your heart and if it doesn’t remember the experiences you have had along the way.

Strange Thoughts and Ramblings

Originally Posted - 5 Dec 2008

Very strange thought patterns today. So many things going through my head, so many and so rapid it makes my head hurt and spin and me almost feel dizzy.

A week or so ago I spoke to my friend and told her how I didn’t know if I could love my husband again, wasn’t sure I would ever be able to conjure up feelings of love and lust and desire. She told me something that at the time seemed really wise. That if I had lost a love to death (and she should know, her husband died almost 4 years ago) that I wouldn’t try and fall in love again straight away, even if I was married to the person I was trying to fall in love with, that I would let myself grieve, let my heart heal, wait until the terrible pain of their loss had subsided and I felt strong enough to begin to think of feelings for another, and then I would take it slowly.

And that is what I have been doing, I cry when I need to cry, I lose myself in thoughts of my lost love, sometimes it causes me deep pain, sometimes I am able to remember and relive times and they make me smile. I lie sometimes in my bed and remember the sheer joy of stirring and being conscious of him by my side, to wake and hear his gentle breathing beside me and know that when I snuggle close I will find him there. The memory of opening my eyes and looking into his, our mouths smiling our good mornings to one another, I can sometimes remember those things with love.

My husband is being wonderful. He can see my pain, he can see how I hurt, and I tell him! We talk and I tell him how I am feeling and all the thoughts that tumble through my head, the anger at times, the confusion, the bewilderment. He has no answers but he holds me while I cry and he strokes my hair and he comforts me. I don’t know whether we have a future but one thing is for sure that even if we were to part now, we have a greater understanding of each other and we would part as friends. I do want to try to love him again, I do want to attempt to be someone he can fall back in love with too but in all honesty my heart and head is too raw to think beyond each day.

My biggest confusion is my Loves ability to completely cut me from his life. He has responded to my text messages and emails, occasionally, but he seems to have had the immense strength just to blank me. And that in itself leads to more trains of thought and more questions.

Is he hurting still as much as me?
If he loved me as deeply as I believed he did (hell you all read the piece he wrote for me!) if he loved me as intensely as he always made me feel, how can he just have switched off those emotions? He appears to be throwing himself into making things work with his forgiving wife, it seems he has made up his mind already that it IS going to work, there is no room for failure and I think how my heart hurts and aches and longs for him, how completely lost I feel without his friendship and his words, without the daily contact and conversations with him, without being able to share my life with words with him and I wonder does he feel that too and if he does how can he MAKE himself fall in love with her again, how can he manage to skip the grieving and heart healing process? And if he has, could he please let me in on the secret because I so wish I could do the same, take all these thoughts out of my head and discard them!

I have always written and said he was my lover, my submissive but also one of my best friends, well my BEST friend really. He knew all that my friends know of me plus all the lover stuff, so I guess he knew me as well if not better than anyone. We hadn’t spent that many occasions in each others company, far too few, probably only amounting to a couple of weeks in total over the 2 years we had known each other. But because of our long conversations, our shared chatter about all subjects, fantasies, dreams, loves, disappointments, daily life, I have probably spoke more words to him in the last 2 years than I have to my husband in the last 6! And it is his friendship I feel more keenly than anything else.

It is now 19 days since I have felt a glimmer of desire. From the moment the process of our parting was started I have felt dead inside. Ours was such a sexually charged relationship, an hours conversation about our day would end up arousing us both, just the sound of our voices, so much time spent apart meant so much of our play and yes, love-making, was done over the phone, over the internet, by webcam and text. I can’t imagine feeling lust again at the moment and I wonder how he is fairing. How can he muster up desire if he feels like me?

And there is a part of me that so hopes he has discovered I wasn’t the love of his life, that it was all a big mistake and fantastical dream, that this is the reason he has wiped me from his life because I was a big mistake and it was his wife that he loved all along, they had just lost the way and that now with me out the way they are working towards being everything he had ever hoped they could be. There is a part of me that truly wants that because if he is feeling like I do, bereft and hurting; like everyday at the moment is a struggle to stop the pain overwhelming me, like my libido has taken a gap year and not given me a return date, then to be making the effort he seems to be making to make everything right in his marriage must be so dreadfully hard.

I know I will recover, I will get stronger, I will repair (all be it a little scarred and battered) but I am really not sure that I will ever be able to love again like I have done, partly because I will never meet that man again and partly because I fear that I can never give myself so completely again for fear of being broken again.

The Agony Aunt

Originally Posted - 2 Oct 2008

Dear ‘Ivor Query’

I have a bike. It’s just a bike, my bike, nothing special; I've had it for years. I've used it a bit but over the last 2 years I restored it, I got it out and polished, lovingly shone the chrome work, oiled the chain and handlebars, adjusted and tightened it, buffed up its lumpy, worn and shiny seat. I discovered that it still rides like a dream.



My best friend also has a bike of their own, a slightly newer model than mine, they were quite content with it although often complained bitterly about its stiff brakes, uncomfortable seat and dodgy steering. It didn’t work very well but they always said theirs would do and they seemed to love it.

I have been sharing my bike with my best friend and made it available to them whenever they wanted, they have used it as often as they were able. It has taken us to some brilliant places and we have had such fun together with my old refurbished chassis. My friend loved the paintwork and the suspension, adored the steering control and was intrigued by my bell. But it’s just a bike, not fancy, not a sleek fantastic model, not expensive brand, it’s just my bike.

Now suddenly they say they can't make use of it any more. I think it might be broken and I'm not sure I will ever get to ride it again myself. It may just sit in storage and get cobwebby and a little rusty which seems such a shame.

My problem is that now my friend is cross with me, saying that their bike doesn’t feel right anymore, that they don’t know if they can get it restored to good working order so they can ever enjoy it again. They are blaming me for letting them ride mine and tell me that my beautiful bike has made theirs feel wrong.

I have pointed out to my friend that they weren’t that impressed with theirs anyway, before I even let them have a go on mine, that I know they complained about it lots, that they had looked longingly at new bikes and pondered on what it would be like to have even a quick spin on one of the super duper shiny jobs. I know they had pawed over the thin lightweight frames, the thick chunky mountain models and the neon painted power bikes. Mine is just a bike. And I thought that by letting them share it that it would make them happy and glad to have a friend, I had hoped that while riding it together we would have so much fun that having one that didn’t work wouldn’t matter so much to my friend. But now it seems I have made them even more discontent with what they have. I feel quite upset that this has happened and hope they don't make me regret letting them have a go on mine.

Do you think I should sell mine on Ebay?

I hope you can help me,
Regards

‘The Broken Biker’

Lost Love

Originally Posted - 1 Oct 2008

Well, it’s over.

Tonight I ended my affair with db. Why? Because it was killing him. Over the last 2 weeks he has faced the most hideous dilemma. Despite the fact that we have been together almost 2 years it is something that has never been easy for him, the lies, the deceit, the adultery and he decided he couldn’t do it any longer. Not because he loved his wife more than he loved me, not because he thought he’d be happier without me, but because he is a good man and craved a life that was right, honest and responsible.

He ended things with me.

Within 2 days we were declaring love that couldn’t be ended and he asked me, if I could, if I would wait until he had extricated himself gently from his marriage. I agreed so desperate not to lose the man I love more than any other.

But he has 2 beautiful young children and although I agreed and promised I would try to wait for him for as long as it took, I knew deep in my heart that whether it took a week, a month or a year that the outcome would be the same, he would have to stay and that to take him from them would break and destroy the wonderful, glorious man who I have woven into my life over the last 23 months.

So over this last week we have met twice, clinging and talking, we have spoken for hours and over the days I have seen him falling apart and it broke me in two.

I have set him free. I have lost my best friend, my lover and my submissive, we are both still in shock and terrified of the void in our lives, we are still in contact though both aware we have to be weaned off each other.

I have done this because he is the love of my life, because having to decide between us was tearing him apart. I know he feels a certain sense of relief that he doesn’t have to make the decision himself and I don’t blame him (I was hoping for the same from my husband). I know that he also feels he has betrayed and let me down.

I will not leave the website we joined, although I was a Domme for him and him alone, I have made some wonderful friends there. It is still a place where I feel 'at home' and that has travelled the last few months of my journey with me, with us. There are parts of the blogs and forum I dare not read, his words of love for me, but one day I will be able to and draw comfort from the fact that I have shared a period in my life more wonderful than some will ever have the pleasure of knowing.

So please forgive me if I don’t post very much, or post too much, or it makes little sense. Not much in my life makes much sense to me at the moment when I have just lost the person who knows me so completely I feel I have lost half of me.

I will love you always my darling db and I will try to be the brave strong person that you always believed me to be, on condition that you never give up the truly warm beautiful man that you are and that you strive for happiness. We both have to find something positive out of this otherwise our wondrous love will have been in vain.

Back on the PIll

Originally Posted - 30 Sept 2008

I have today been to see my doctor. Well "A" doctor. Not my lovely favourite Doctor who I give a capital letter to because I like him and he is wonderful and wise and has always made me better, he wasn't available today and I really needed to see someone today.

I have been considering going to see him for about a month if I am totally honest, considering discussing going back on the pill.

Am I suddenly in need of contraception? No..... Apart from the fact that I really do not desire pregnancy at my 'delicate' age, I have always found it quite difficult to 'get' pregnant, both the men I have had any sexual contact with in the last 2 years have had a vasectomy and of course while I sort out the present chapter of my life I will not be having sex with anyone so no....no need for contraceptive pills.

I have been to see a lovely lady doctor who I have seen before almost 3 years ago and who today has put me back on prozac and has signed me off from work on sick leave for a period of 3 weeks.

Hopefully during this time, although my life will not magically morph into a perfect one, I will hopefully feel strong enough to deal with it, will be able to do the simple things like function throughout the day and sleep throughout the night without my head being in a continual blurr and whirr of mad, disjointed thoughts, a majority of which I have neither power nor knowledge enough to deal with.

None of this is anyones fault, no blame to be apportioned, it is just a combination of unhappy problems/facts/developments in my life at present. I will get through this, I have done before and I will do again, I like the me that feels strong and safe, I like the me that brings pleasure and happiness into others lives, I like the me that people are pleased to encounter and I will be that me again. For me.

So I am sitting here now, sipping sweet milky latte and having just swallowed my first wee happy pill and I'm going to wrap myself up for a bit.

Just Like The Weather......

Originally Posted - 27 Sept 2008

...that is what my week has been like and my yesterday mirrored what nature threw at us in the way of an autumn day.

Yesterday morning I set off to meet my darling db.

It was cold, real nippy autumnal air, the fog was thick in places and as I drove I had to use my wipers to clear the cold moisture off my screen. I had put on a long sleeved top, cast aside my toe-post flip flops for the warmth of socks and trainers, thrown my padded hooded jacket on the back seat in case we wandered around anywhere that might feel bleak. All prepared for the coolness of a late September day.

As I drove (as often happens when I approach our meeting point) the sun gradually broke through, the fog began to lift, I could see it hovering above the countryside, clinging to the warming fields before it was burned off by the increasing heat.

By the time I arrived it was full sunshine, bright, glorious day, my welcome matched the warmth of the day, as unexpected as the improved weather. As we sat drinking coffee together, chatting in our usual easy fashion we watched the world transform from the cool and bleak place it had started out to a place full of cheer, heat and brightness. As we walked in our country park later and lay on the grass watching the blamelessly blue sky, interrupted only by the odd feeble cloud and the regular grumble of a plane the sun shone hot and searing onto us, quite made us forget it wasn't a day like earlier in the year when we made love in the scorching sun under an equally blazing sun. So easy to forget.

Lots of words, love and laughter exchanged over our day, sharing passion fruit and slices of buttered toasted fruity-bread over late afternoon coffee as the sun began to gently lose some of its power. And finally we parted, leaving behind a magical day, such a beautiful surprise of a day as much as the weather was a wonderful surprise too. And the sun set as I journeyed home, the beauty of the coloured skies changing as I motored home, my journey long and slow making it feel like the slow peeling of elastplast, too slowly, increasing the pain of parting from fragile skin by its slowness.

And when I got home it was dark and chilly again, the night black, the air nippy and to be protected against.

And now I just wait....and hope that there will be another day of warmth and sunshine, another beautiful surprise in the coming season.