I meant to write this earlier...aw fuck it...I really need to get a new excuse.
So, the last time I wrote about my kink, I think I convinced myself that I was a Submissive Masochist. I know now that I was too hasty in putting a label to what I do with my kink. There seemed to be this unspoken rule in the kink community that you must have a label for the role you are playing to better navigate this world. The truth of it is, these labels are not so cut and dry as people would suggest. For one thing, what one set of people would define Dominant/submissive one way, a couple who actually live the dynamic would define it another way due to the nature of the boundaries set within that particular relationship.
After spending some time on Fetlife, going to some events, getting flogged more, and doing some soul searching, I've come away with the fact that I am not a Submissive. Ok...yes I do have some subby traits, and for the most part, I give my body, heart and soul to M unequivocally. But, I am no more willing to give entire control to M, as much as he doesn't wants the responsibility to take that control for his own uses. We just don't have that dynamic, and for reasons of my own (which needs a separate post on), I am not interest in pursing that. Instead he is a switch, and so am I (provided that I get a little bit more experience with my "top" energies).
Now the masochist part of me has been progressing well and I can now report that I am officially a pain slut :D.
It all began when we both went to Folsom Faire a week ago. This was the first time I went, as a participant rather than a spectator. And I was rather proud of myself, I went to Folsom with a corset on. Although we came to celebrate me coming out of the kink closet, we came with one clear purpose in mind...to buy more toys. For M, he was looking for a high end flogger. For me, I had my eye on something stingy. After going around the faire once and stopped to get a bite to eat, we finally made our way to a vendor. As much as I really wanted a cane, and told M that I would buy one, I ended up with a riding crop. Namely because I still don't know my own pain tolerance, and yes I'm a chicken. It took M some time to find the right flogger, but the one he bought was beautiful. The flogger part is deerhide, with a medium wood finish handle. It was so lush and heavy that I found myself petting it on the way home.
Despite being 85 degrees outside and having to deal with hordes of people going into the faire, we were both horny and curious about our new purchases (So horny, in fact, we couldn't wait to go to my apartment to fuck. Instead we fucked in my car, parked in my garage. I straddled him in the back seat, with my ass facing him. It took a feat of strength not to scream out my orgasms.) We finally made it upstairs, undressed and relaxed/cuddled on my bed.
We half-halfheartedly started to play with the riding crop on my inner thigh, just hitting it with the leather end with fast light strokes. It turned red and stung a bit, but I wasn't prepared the lingering effects of the stinging when that area would meet the air of the fan or a touch of M's hand. I started to giggle, then laugh uncontrollably. I was getting so turned on I thought I was going to cum again. (I think I did.) M was also turned on by this, and finally came up to stand over to use the new flogger.
Unlike the older flogger, this new one was both caressing like a lover, and hurt like a paddle. The sensations with this flogger was both thuddy and stingy (though not as stingy as the old flogger). While the riding crop is just stingy and its effects more immediate, the flogger took time to build up, with a wonderful array of sensations that kept me guessing. And just when I was getting used to the flogger, he used the leather part of the crop on my back, and the cane part of the crop on my ass.
During the scene, I was trying to process, if I could take any more thuddiness from the flogger or the general pain of the crop, while all the while I can feel wetness between my thighs. I was in subspace as I had never experienced before. And just when I thought I could sustain this particular wave, M slaps the crop hard on my ass. He stops, letting the sting of the crop assert itself. He bends down on my back, bites my shoulder and my ass and tells me how hot and sexy I am while I pant in ecstasy.
I must say that afterwards was a bit of a blur, but I do remember telling me to lay there and to not look behind. He leaves the bedroom and comes back with something...sharp. Oh at least it feels sharp, because he presses something sharp on my body...where it stung the worst...immediately I felt a sensation I just can't fucking describe. He leaves me again to, I assume, put whatever he just used back and comes back telling me "yes, you're into knife play." (Technically, I found out later, it was a pair of scissors).
Yes, it was the most hottest scene to date, not because the pain the pleasure was too immeasurable to fully grasp at times and I came so hard that day, but the marks that crop made was soo fucking sexy.
And I'm regretting not getting a freakin cane!
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Friends or the lack there of
I've purposely led a life of a self-imposed seclusion for the past three years because I really didn't want to discuss with anyone about my new life change, namely that I'm not married anymore. As you've probably deduced, the price I payed for trying to get my life to where I needed to go is that I came away from all this with very little friends. During this time, the only people to whom I saw with great frequency was M, my mother, and oddly enough my ex from time to time.
Also, I didn't want impose on any of my "friend" to whom I knew when I was married because I didn't want any of them to pick sides and cause any drama, which happens all too frequently with divorce situations.
Now that my divorce is finalizing, and my relationship with my ex has normalized, I'm finding that I crave platonic friendships. But something is preventing me from outright making friends, or asking the universe to show me the way...that is I've become much more Introverted now than I've ever been.
Its not that I've just discovered my introverted nature, I've known since childhood that I was this way. And no, I'm not ashamed of this nor do I want to change it. This is who I am, and it has served me well in my life. But somehow, I've always attracted Extroverts, both in platonic and romantic relationships, and somehow I became friends of friends through association rather than my will of personality.
Let me take that back. Its not that I can't socialize or make friends. The kinds of friends I make on my own tended to be either introverts (which I don't mind) or short-lived because I just never gave enough to the relationship that was required of them. Ok...here's the thing...and M is also this way so he also finds himself in this situation...I like to spend time with friends...however I need to spend time on my own. Most people find that second part off-putting because I think their reasoning is if I'm really a friend, I should be spending as much time into this relationship. For example, I think spending all of your evenings talking to one or a set of friends is too much for me. Or, the expectation that I must be doing something with this person or this group every weekend is too much. I find it draining, they find that I'm not just committed, and this whole experiment on friendship becomes an utter failure.
I've mentioned to my ex how lonely I've been a few times, and he's suggested, I should make friends just for the sake of making them. But, I don't want to make friends with people, just to add a name to my address book. If the situation was reverse, and someone became friends with me just because I happen to be there, I would be sort of angry because they think nothing of me other than a commodity. I would hope that they want to be my friends because they like me, we share common interests/ground, and want to get to know me better.
Its not that I can't commit to a friendship, and honestly, I accept alot of people for whom they are rather than what they can bring for me. I do have friendships that I haven't had any interaction for years, then is resuscitated for a brief period of time, where the signs of affection never wavered or tempered despite the inactivity, only to loose touch again and the cycle continues. It does take me along time to open up to people, however, I find that people are impatient to get the relationship going. Honestly, why the rush?
Now I have re-acquainted myself with old friends lately and I've become closer to my family, more so than I've ever been. I must admit that Facebook has been a wonderful tool in that regard.
But making new friends have alluded me. Perhaps, I am not ready for friends if I'm still really ambivalent about making a commitment to friendship. Or perhaps, the universe is telling me that its not time for me to open up and accept other people in my life. Whatever the case, it looks like I'll be in my solitude for a little bit longer.
Also, I didn't want impose on any of my "friend" to whom I knew when I was married because I didn't want any of them to pick sides and cause any drama, which happens all too frequently with divorce situations.
Now that my divorce is finalizing, and my relationship with my ex has normalized, I'm finding that I crave platonic friendships. But something is preventing me from outright making friends, or asking the universe to show me the way...that is I've become much more Introverted now than I've ever been.
Its not that I've just discovered my introverted nature, I've known since childhood that I was this way. And no, I'm not ashamed of this nor do I want to change it. This is who I am, and it has served me well in my life. But somehow, I've always attracted Extroverts, both in platonic and romantic relationships, and somehow I became friends of friends through association rather than my will of personality.
Let me take that back. Its not that I can't socialize or make friends. The kinds of friends I make on my own tended to be either introverts (which I don't mind) or short-lived because I just never gave enough to the relationship that was required of them. Ok...here's the thing...and M is also this way so he also finds himself in this situation...I like to spend time with friends...however I need to spend time on my own. Most people find that second part off-putting because I think their reasoning is if I'm really a friend, I should be spending as much time into this relationship. For example, I think spending all of your evenings talking to one or a set of friends is too much for me. Or, the expectation that I must be doing something with this person or this group every weekend is too much. I find it draining, they find that I'm not just committed, and this whole experiment on friendship becomes an utter failure.
I've mentioned to my ex how lonely I've been a few times, and he's suggested, I should make friends just for the sake of making them. But, I don't want to make friends with people, just to add a name to my address book. If the situation was reverse, and someone became friends with me just because I happen to be there, I would be sort of angry because they think nothing of me other than a commodity. I would hope that they want to be my friends because they like me, we share common interests/ground, and want to get to know me better.
Its not that I can't commit to a friendship, and honestly, I accept alot of people for whom they are rather than what they can bring for me. I do have friendships that I haven't had any interaction for years, then is resuscitated for a brief period of time, where the signs of affection never wavered or tempered despite the inactivity, only to loose touch again and the cycle continues. It does take me along time to open up to people, however, I find that people are impatient to get the relationship going. Honestly, why the rush?
Now I have re-acquainted myself with old friends lately and I've become closer to my family, more so than I've ever been. I must admit that Facebook has been a wonderful tool in that regard.
But making new friends have alluded me. Perhaps, I am not ready for friends if I'm still really ambivalent about making a commitment to friendship. Or perhaps, the universe is telling me that its not time for me to open up and accept other people in my life. Whatever the case, it looks like I'll be in my solitude for a little bit longer.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Acceptance
Funny thing about epiphanies, things don't really change that much after having one. What they do is, hopefully, make light of a path of thinking that you were not aware of, or blocked somehow. It may be positive or negative, but its the universe way of telling you "Yo, dumbshit..this way!"
It's taking me a few weeks to process this for me what it meant to be really kinky. Part of that process was learning what the hell kinky meant. With M's assistance, I went to a beginner's class about the BDSM lifestyle. I'm not going to go bore you with the details, but I got familiar with the terms, the philosophy, what consent really meant, and the ins and outs of a dungeon. Suffice it to say, it was good. I know that I'm a Submissive Masochist. However, I hate the labels. But I will address that in another time.
Let me go back. M flogged me for the first time the weekend prior to taking that class. And I found it...exhilarating, sensual, extremely sexy, and very intimate. I discovered how much I loved being submissive, how much I needed to lose control to my body.
M had suspected that I had this streak in me. He knew this about me before I could accept this. But I couldn't see it.
Or I didn't know. Or I knew, but it didn't have a name. I had a really meaningful talk to M about this a few weeks ago. Here was what came out of it...I purposely dated strong men (either passively or overtly domineering men) who liked the submissive qualities of me. But the moment they exerted more control than what I was willing to afford them, I withdrew and try to exert some control of my own. To be fair, they didn't know I needed this. Hell, I didn't know I was such a control freak. Now you can see how confusing this can be. I don't think I was lying to them. I just thought they were threatened to my boundless libido. It was more to that.
Believe me, my own ego is to blame in this as well. You say the term submissive and you see someone who is a doormat, with no will of her own. You see, maybe women in abusive relationships, men controlling women completely. Who wants to be perceived to weak? I don't.
This revelation has been a whole paradigm shift for me, but the learning process is far from complete. And there's still some fear and confusion that I need to deal with.
Lastly, I need to thank M, for without him I wouldn't have realized this. It was his love and compassion and trust that led me here. I couldn't ask for a better companion to be with me for the rest of my journey.
It's taking me a few weeks to process this for me what it meant to be really kinky. Part of that process was learning what the hell kinky meant. With M's assistance, I went to a beginner's class about the BDSM lifestyle. I'm not going to go bore you with the details, but I got familiar with the terms, the philosophy, what consent really meant, and the ins and outs of a dungeon. Suffice it to say, it was good. I know that I'm a Submissive Masochist. However, I hate the labels. But I will address that in another time.
Let me go back. M flogged me for the first time the weekend prior to taking that class. And I found it...exhilarating, sensual, extremely sexy, and very intimate. I discovered how much I loved being submissive, how much I needed to lose control to my body.
M had suspected that I had this streak in me. He knew this about me before I could accept this. But I couldn't see it.
Or I didn't know. Or I knew, but it didn't have a name. I had a really meaningful talk to M about this a few weeks ago. Here was what came out of it...I purposely dated strong men (either passively or overtly domineering men) who liked the submissive qualities of me. But the moment they exerted more control than what I was willing to afford them, I withdrew and try to exert some control of my own. To be fair, they didn't know I needed this. Hell, I didn't know I was such a control freak. Now you can see how confusing this can be. I don't think I was lying to them. I just thought they were threatened to my boundless libido. It was more to that.
Believe me, my own ego is to blame in this as well. You say the term submissive and you see someone who is a doormat, with no will of her own. You see, maybe women in abusive relationships, men controlling women completely. Who wants to be perceived to weak? I don't.
This revelation has been a whole paradigm shift for me, but the learning process is far from complete. And there's still some fear and confusion that I need to deal with.
Lastly, I need to thank M, for without him I wouldn't have realized this. It was his love and compassion and trust that led me here. I couldn't ask for a better companion to be with me for the rest of my journey.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Testing Limits
It was the tail end of the first weekend of March. We both signed a simple declaration in my Journal to commemorate that period of time. "On this day, 6th of March, 2010, M and I had too much sex", It stated. We both laughed, feeling defeated mentally and physically.
We were exhausted from lack of sleep, our bodies sore from the contortionist positions and tight spaces we got ourselves into. Our wills spent after a week of a heightened sexual awareness bordering on obsession, while letting our libidos dictate our waking moments. We didn't set out to test the limits of our desires could yield, but the moment I walked into his apartment on Friday night, we wanted each other badly and we were going to fuck each other senseless.
My motives to write this post is partly titillation, partly cautionary tale. I will admit readily, that I instigated this. But whatever I did only sparked M's imagination into those dark erotic places that I find extremely compelling. And perhaps, this is what happens when you ask the universe what you want, and subsequently get it.
It all started with us fucking in front of a camera the weekend before. Although we had filmed each other in the act of coitus before, it had been about 15 months since we had done it last. I placed a web cam on top of a tripod at the foot of my bed, connected it to my computer and went about to our marry way. Afterwords, we laid there, in post-coital bliss, watching the video. And it was good. Good as in Hot. Hot as in, I watched the video in its entirety about 3 times that weekend getting off.
M suggested that we post snippets of the video online. The thought of strangers watching his dick buried deep in my pussy intrigued him. I suggested I put it on Xtube. So on Monday, after we got into some heavy flirting online, I posted the 3 edited parts of the video on Xtube. It took about a day before it was finally viewable, but once up we got lots of views and some comments.
For the next few nights, it lead to suggestive text messages, more online flirting, and phone sex. I told him about a recurring fantasy I've been masturbating to, fucking him and another man I knew at the same time. M, in turned, spinned tales about us fucking in a viewing room at a porn store that happened to have glory-holes. On Thursday, he suggested we go to the drive-in movies on Friday and fuck in the backseat of his car. The tales of what we would do back ended up with both of us masturbating over the phone, cumming hard.
Then Friday night came along, and all hell broke lose.
Once at his apartment, I changed into my sexy little outfit: A short red skirt, white button short-sleeved shirt, white thigh-highs, white heels, and a black cardigan. No underwear, I wanted to make sure everything was accessible. I paraded my sexy outfit to get his approval.
M liked it. He gave me a passionate, long kiss, and pushing my skirt up so that he can expose my bare ass. He led me to his office chair, and told me sit down on it. He got between my legs and pushed them apart so that he can get between them. I opened my shirt so he can suckle my breasts, but he placed his tongue on my clit, licking and sucking it. Yes I was very much wet just prior to that, so with him eating me and his nubile fingers exploring my wet pussy, I easily came twice. He came up from between my legs and kissed me, tasting my essence on his tongue. "That's enough for now" he said.
We left his apartment, with me hungering for more. Trust me, I was thoroughly convinced drive-in movie theaters didn't exist anymore; but after about 30 minutes of driving, we pulled up to the ticket booth. He parked at the back of the area, making sure weren't near anyone. After finding the station to listen to, eating our burgers, and getting situated, we finally got to the back seat for some heaving petting.
His fingers found his way up my skirt and into my wet mound. I of course, took a hold of his hard cock and stroked it. I pulled his sweatpants down, just enough so that his hard cock was free of its cloth confines and I immediately wrapped my mouth around it, taking every inch of it into my mouth. I wanted to suck his hard cock so badly, that I didn't care if anyone noticed what I was doing. He moaned, as I licked, sucked, deep-throated his cock. His fingers was now deep in my pulsating pussy. I came fast twice more. When I stood up and sat on his lap, the windows were fogged in completely. Trying to devise a plan to fuck me without attracting attention was almost comical and M's fear was that I would be too loud. But somehow, he managed to place his hard cock inside me while I was sitting on his lap. We rocked back and forth, the feeling of his hard cock hitting my g-spots over and over again was amazing.
After the movie, we once again had sex. This time it was sleepy, half-awake sex, forcing our exhausted bodies to comply with our wills.
The next day, M collared me, leashed me with rope. As he pulled on the leash, he assaulted my ass, spanking me until I submitted to his will, through the pain. And just when I couldn't make through the pain, a rush of endorphins took me to heights of ecstasy. He wrapped the rope around my chest (it was still attached to my collar) restraining me. He then laid on his back as I got on top of him to fuck him. I came relentlessly as the sensation of his cock pushing inside while M pulling on the rope was too much to bare. After that session I laid there, trying to process the event. Because, I suddenly had an epiphany...I'm much more kinky than I thought I was.
We vowed to not have so many extreme sexual experiences in such a short period of time. Since then, restrained have settled back into our libidos. But I think we needed to do that. To push our relationship into a deeper level, to push my own boundaries and admit certain aspects of myself that was ready to manifest itself.
And as the next entries will attest, that weekend was the impetus of reassessing my journey.
We were exhausted from lack of sleep, our bodies sore from the contortionist positions and tight spaces we got ourselves into. Our wills spent after a week of a heightened sexual awareness bordering on obsession, while letting our libidos dictate our waking moments. We didn't set out to test the limits of our desires could yield, but the moment I walked into his apartment on Friday night, we wanted each other badly and we were going to fuck each other senseless.
My motives to write this post is partly titillation, partly cautionary tale. I will admit readily, that I instigated this. But whatever I did only sparked M's imagination into those dark erotic places that I find extremely compelling. And perhaps, this is what happens when you ask the universe what you want, and subsequently get it.
It all started with us fucking in front of a camera the weekend before. Although we had filmed each other in the act of coitus before, it had been about 15 months since we had done it last. I placed a web cam on top of a tripod at the foot of my bed, connected it to my computer and went about to our marry way. Afterwords, we laid there, in post-coital bliss, watching the video. And it was good. Good as in Hot. Hot as in, I watched the video in its entirety about 3 times that weekend getting off.
M suggested that we post snippets of the video online. The thought of strangers watching his dick buried deep in my pussy intrigued him. I suggested I put it on Xtube. So on Monday, after we got into some heavy flirting online, I posted the 3 edited parts of the video on Xtube. It took about a day before it was finally viewable, but once up we got lots of views and some comments.
For the next few nights, it lead to suggestive text messages, more online flirting, and phone sex. I told him about a recurring fantasy I've been masturbating to, fucking him and another man I knew at the same time. M, in turned, spinned tales about us fucking in a viewing room at a porn store that happened to have glory-holes. On Thursday, he suggested we go to the drive-in movies on Friday and fuck in the backseat of his car. The tales of what we would do back ended up with both of us masturbating over the phone, cumming hard.
Then Friday night came along, and all hell broke lose.
Once at his apartment, I changed into my sexy little outfit: A short red skirt, white button short-sleeved shirt, white thigh-highs, white heels, and a black cardigan. No underwear, I wanted to make sure everything was accessible. I paraded my sexy outfit to get his approval.
M liked it. He gave me a passionate, long kiss, and pushing my skirt up so that he can expose my bare ass. He led me to his office chair, and told me sit down on it. He got between my legs and pushed them apart so that he can get between them. I opened my shirt so he can suckle my breasts, but he placed his tongue on my clit, licking and sucking it. Yes I was very much wet just prior to that, so with him eating me and his nubile fingers exploring my wet pussy, I easily came twice. He came up from between my legs and kissed me, tasting my essence on his tongue. "That's enough for now" he said.
We left his apartment, with me hungering for more. Trust me, I was thoroughly convinced drive-in movie theaters didn't exist anymore; but after about 30 minutes of driving, we pulled up to the ticket booth. He parked at the back of the area, making sure weren't near anyone. After finding the station to listen to, eating our burgers, and getting situated, we finally got to the back seat for some heaving petting.
His fingers found his way up my skirt and into my wet mound. I of course, took a hold of his hard cock and stroked it. I pulled his sweatpants down, just enough so that his hard cock was free of its cloth confines and I immediately wrapped my mouth around it, taking every inch of it into my mouth. I wanted to suck his hard cock so badly, that I didn't care if anyone noticed what I was doing. He moaned, as I licked, sucked, deep-throated his cock. His fingers was now deep in my pulsating pussy. I came fast twice more. When I stood up and sat on his lap, the windows were fogged in completely. Trying to devise a plan to fuck me without attracting attention was almost comical and M's fear was that I would be too loud. But somehow, he managed to place his hard cock inside me while I was sitting on his lap. We rocked back and forth, the feeling of his hard cock hitting my g-spots over and over again was amazing.
After the movie, we once again had sex. This time it was sleepy, half-awake sex, forcing our exhausted bodies to comply with our wills.
The next day, M collared me, leashed me with rope. As he pulled on the leash, he assaulted my ass, spanking me until I submitted to his will, through the pain. And just when I couldn't make through the pain, a rush of endorphins took me to heights of ecstasy. He wrapped the rope around my chest (it was still attached to my collar) restraining me. He then laid on his back as I got on top of him to fuck him. I came relentlessly as the sensation of his cock pushing inside while M pulling on the rope was too much to bare. After that session I laid there, trying to process the event. Because, I suddenly had an epiphany...I'm much more kinky than I thought I was.
We vowed to not have so many extreme sexual experiences in such a short period of time. Since then, restrained have settled back into our libidos. But I think we needed to do that. To push our relationship into a deeper level, to push my own boundaries and admit certain aspects of myself that was ready to manifest itself.
And as the next entries will attest, that weekend was the impetus of reassessing my journey.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
The New Year and my family
Fuck it. So much for the tawdry sex stories that I wanted to write here. Perhaps I will save my excuses on another post.
And as usual, this is my "Welcome the New Year" post, three weeks way too late. I can honestly say I don't miss 2009. It ended as crappily as it started and if there was a way to burn that period of time I would. Okay, its not as bad as two years ago, but the world of hurt that decided to take shelter this year affected more people than I can count. So, welcome 2010! Don't be a total bitch to me, I'm still nursing wounds that your predecessor inflicting upon me.
Honestly, I meant to write here but I'm falling back into bad habit of writing here when my state of mind is on the downside. But if this post seem to lack any coherent point, its because I haven't been sleeping really well, my ego is bruised over a fucking video game, and my body is rebelling at me for that 2 mile walk I took earlier.
Sorry, where was I?
A couple of hours ago, I decided to call my mother. Just to see what her plans were. And typical mother of mine, she managed to rope me into a family gathering. She's very sneaky like that, and knows full well I have no excuses to refuse them. As the divorcee loser daughter, I have no one to hide behind now to sidestep familiar obligations. Since moving out, my mother has taken me to one wedding, (soon to be) 2 baby showers, and numerous get togethers.
Despite my bitching, its been good for me.
You see, when I was married I really didn't see my family all that much. Most of that was me not really wanting to be part of it, trying to establish my own. I don't know why I did that. It wasn't as if my family hated my husband. In fact, they thought highly of him. Maybe because we come from two very different familial systems? Or is it because when I married him I was 25 years old, and trying to establish my own person-hood, and thus trying to put some distance from my past? Regardless, I regret not being close to my family as I should be.
Thankfully, my family haven't written me off or anything so severe. And I'm making up for lost time. In fact, half of my cousins are on my Facebook friends list. Its just nice to be back into the fold.
And as usual, this is my "Welcome the New Year" post, three weeks way too late. I can honestly say I don't miss 2009. It ended as crappily as it started and if there was a way to burn that period of time I would. Okay, its not as bad as two years ago, but the world of hurt that decided to take shelter this year affected more people than I can count. So, welcome 2010! Don't be a total bitch to me, I'm still nursing wounds that your predecessor inflicting upon me.
Honestly, I meant to write here but I'm falling back into bad habit of writing here when my state of mind is on the downside. But if this post seem to lack any coherent point, its because I haven't been sleeping really well, my ego is bruised over a fucking video game, and my body is rebelling at me for that 2 mile walk I took earlier.
Sorry, where was I?
A couple of hours ago, I decided to call my mother. Just to see what her plans were. And typical mother of mine, she managed to rope me into a family gathering. She's very sneaky like that, and knows full well I have no excuses to refuse them. As the divorcee loser daughter, I have no one to hide behind now to sidestep familiar obligations. Since moving out, my mother has taken me to one wedding, (soon to be) 2 baby showers, and numerous get togethers.
Despite my bitching, its been good for me.
You see, when I was married I really didn't see my family all that much. Most of that was me not really wanting to be part of it, trying to establish my own. I don't know why I did that. It wasn't as if my family hated my husband. In fact, they thought highly of him. Maybe because we come from two very different familial systems? Or is it because when I married him I was 25 years old, and trying to establish my own person-hood, and thus trying to put some distance from my past? Regardless, I regret not being close to my family as I should be.
Thankfully, my family haven't written me off or anything so severe. And I'm making up for lost time. In fact, half of my cousins are on my Facebook friends list. Its just nice to be back into the fold.
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