Interplanetary Bodies

Most of this post is  from a diary entry I wrote back in May of 2012.  I thought I'd elaborate on it since this is my blog.

Relationships is like gravity between interplanetary bodies.  Because these bodies have its own gravitational forces, they are constantly attracting and repelling each other, each influencing the other.  It doesn't matter the density of these planets, it could be Jupiter with one of its moons, a random comet grazing the atmosphere of Earth, or a pair of binary planets orbiting each other.

Sometimes this push/pull is harmonious, circling around a benevolent star that is our hearts.  Other times we get too close to each other, and we begin a perilous dance of trying to compensate because our balance is off, while still maintaining our own spinning axis.

It is this push/pull that defines us, our relationships.  It is how we deal with this that determines if we crash and burn, hurling towards the sun, or if we maintain our elliptical orbits.  Yes, even interplanetary bodies expire.  But, perhaps the traces of these planets reach a curious telescope light years away, in another galaxy.  

Beauty in Breakdown

So the entity that is M and I are no more.

I could tell you how I've been feeling for the past few months, or I can describe what has or has not transpire between the both of us, but at some point the details doesn't matter.

The short story is that poly did what it's suppose to do; expose the weaknesses, the bullshit, that patience and grace can't fix.  As much as I want to blame M, I own my shit to the demise of this relatioinship.  In the end, we grew apart, and as someone said on Fetlife a few days ago, we became incompatible at this moment.

He is in love, but not with me.  And I am alone.

Though this alone-ness feels very different.  For one thing, I've decided to ask for help, from strangers, from friends, from people I've met once.  And surprisingly, they didn't shun me or ignore me.  Then I asked the universe for guidance, and it told me to open my heart to it.  For once in my life I don't feel empty (or at least less empty), but Love and Equanimity.  Love for myself.  Love for the universe and the world.  And its telling me to forgive, to give M kindness.  After all, these past 4 years (Sorry, but I'm considering this year a wash) was not all that bad.  I like to think we've learn things about ourselves from this.

There are moments, when the floods of "should-of" and "could-of" engulfed me and despair was all I felt, as my tears fall uncontrollable and without end.  But as much as I still love and care for him, it's time to let him go.

I will end this post with one more indulgence from the universe, and it's this: To make this transition to be smooth, with loving kindness, for the both of us.

My Love for Retro, My Understanding of History and My Style

As I envision myself as a Madmen Character.  With a Martini.  And a cat.

My love for retro started long before Madmen ever aired.  I would argue that it was something my mother instilled in me.  It was in her style, her perfumes, her collection of shapewear.  It was in the music she would play for us.  Instead of bluesy rock or singer/songwriter pop songs that was popular in the early 70's, she was listening to Frank Sinatra, and Nat King Cole.  She had books from the 50's and 60's.  It always looked so much prettier than the fashions of the time.

Officially, I didn't really get serious about retro fashions until I started working as an underpaid social servant in my late 20s.  If I wanted anything stylish on my meager salary, I had to buy it at the thrift store.  Retro fashions fit my curvaceous figure and my diminutive height better than anything that was contemporary, and at the time, there was plenty of it.  Later, I started to make a little bit more money, and my trained eye was able to find contemporary fashions with retro details such as cuts, shapes and tailored silhouettes.  

As I started looking for a style to call my own in the kink world, I ended up coming back to my love of retro fashions, partly to stand out from all the leather, but I also wanted to highlight where my dominance came from, from my femininity, from my sexual energy.  So, I'm once again starting to collect retro-inspired pieces, even so much as getting a bullet bra for my birthday.

And yet, this got me thinking about what this said about me as a person.  I wondered if I was conveying a message that I was a luddite of sorts.  On the contrary, I'm very aware that I am dressing up as a woman in a very interesting time in history that will never be duplicated, nor should it.  The 1950's was a time of great prosperity for this country, as well as having huge cultural changes at the time.  The urban sprawl started during this time period and don't forget the baby boom.  I am also aware of how tumultuous it was if you were a person of color, or a woman, or both.  Let's face it, the strict gender roles of the times didn't make it easy for men either.  Don't forget McCarthyism, the atomic bomb, the red scare.  And if you think I'm exaggerating, the 60's was a direct results of the 50's.  I realize that this isn't a very comprehensive history, but I am aware enough of the social/political flavor of the times to realize that I'm fucking happy to be born in the 70's.

I am a feminist.  I am a dominant.  I can be very independent and have had to forge my own path when I need to.  I also love pretty clothing that accentuates my figure and highlights my femininity.  A dress with a full skirt doesn't detract the fact that I am a strong woman. 

Besides, I love how people do a double take at a dungeon dressed like this, when they realize that I'm the dominant.  I also love dressing up so "girlish" while I have M on a St. Andrews cross as I flog his ass and tell him how much of a manwhore he is.  Now my dominance isn't tied  to what I'm wearing.  I do have a few corsets, domme boots, and other elements to make me look like a femdom on porn and I can look imposing with it on.  Then again, I've topped guys naked.  

I really don't care if what I'm wearing makes me less of a dominant or submissive or switch or whatever.  But I do have a style, and I like it and look good in it.

Reflections

In the course of about a month, my world decided to have its own tectonic changes, erupting my calm surface.  Literally, a few days of my birthday, M announced that he was starting a relationship with someone that I was vaguely aware of. Because of the nature of this, namely the long distance and the fact that he is currently educating her regarding kink and poly, our rules of engagement had to be a bit more flexible.  This presented an opportunity for me to experience what M had been going through for the past several months, the feeling of jealousy, envy and insecurity.

As M pointed out, these feelings came to fruition at the start of this relationship.  But to be fair, I think if his metamour was closer, I would be feeling these things as they come along.  I wrote about some of my processing here. (To summarize, about how M was better at compersion than I am, and how it was weird of me to be in the position of being jealous.)  It took me a few weeks to fully process this, until one day, something snapped in me and realized that It's going to be OK, that M still loves me.  That is not to say that I don't feel insecure from time to time.  It's just that my insecurity isn't so focused now, taking up space in my head (as people in 12-step programs would say).  

The one thing that seems to have not gone away is the self-reflection, the hard questions of what I want from poly, from kink.  You see, I never did mention about another relationship I had that sort of percolated for a few months, that was extremely intense for me, but that fizzled into nothing.  I decided to end it before it began, or he decided it wasn't meant pursuing long ago, but thought that sex with me would be nice so he kept me around until I got impatient?  I'm not sure.  Suffice it to say, it is no more.

I am currently without my own metamours, and the universe has seen it fit to remind me that it is not time to have another relationship outside of my primary relationship with M.  

So that is the state of my life at the moment.  It hasn't been all bad.  It would seem that the universe has seen it fit to bring me friends who may be able to help me be a better dominant.  We shall see.  In the meantime, I am continuing to evaluate what is meaningful to me, and what isn't.  

Trusting the universe

I make many references to trusting the universe here, and other writings, both private and public. I suppose I should explain what that means to me.

I came about this term back in my 20's when I was formalizing my own spiritual path. Back then, I was using it to conceptualize a higher power that was different from the son, the father, and the holy ghost. A more pagan deity that encompassed the earth, the sun, and what was in the sky. I later became enamored with Buddhism, and the universe became this amorphous acknowledge non-entity. The term really became part of my lexicon when I separated from my ex-husband. During this time, I needed to face my fears of being alone, of not knowing what will happen to me.

For me trusting the universe doesn't mean waiting for a deity to rescue me, praise me if I do the right things, or being enlightened. What trusting the universe means to me is understanding that I cannot control everything, and that things will go on without me whether or not I make a decisions.

Why was this so important for me? Well, for starters, I'm a control freak. My old self would have exerted my energy to changing something I am not privy to change. Conversely, I would also change something that should be left to its own devices.

The operative word with this term is trusting. I need to let people be who they are. I need to acknowledge that I can't change certain things. I have to let events unfold to its own rhythm and timing. And that requires a huge amount of trust.

Like planets orbiting the sun and each other, I have to accept that people will influence me with or without warning, and that I will have influence people around me. But this also means being aware of what is going on, taking responsibilities for my actions, and stepping into a situation when the timing is correct.

This trust in the universe has rewarded me, as much has it has broken me. So far it's been a good guideline for me to follow.

Diaries and Journals

Journals of my past

M and I had extremely difficult prior week for the both of us, both physically and emotionally, and after we had a particular grueling night, I suggested to M that he start journaling his thoughts.

Now, I've been a diarist since I was 18.  This blog and any other writings I post is more or less an extension of my real life journaling.  As you see above, I have amassed quite a bit of written materials over the years.  Although if I was a bit more disciplined, It would be a much bigger pile.  Hard to believe, I can be just as lax on those journals as much as posts on this blog.  So the way I started journaling, was absolutely silly actually.  We were huge fans of Twin Peaks.  At the time, the producers of the show published a made up diary of the main character, a book that we were enamored with.  Later, I discovered and was influenced by the diaries/fictional works of Anais Nin.  As the novelty wore off, I justified my journaling as a way to get into writing the great American novel.  When the novel never materialized, it became what it is now, my therapist, my sounding board, and at its simplistic term, a list.

I still carry a journal around.   It has helped me deal with many things of my life, as well as develop my writing style.  As much as it has given me such comfort to be able to process my thoughts and desires in this way, I have never advocated anyone to do the same.  Until now.  I've given my share of unsolicited advice over the years, yet for some reason any suggestions regarding journaling has been strangely absent.  And I don't know why that is.

I guess for me, its always been sort of an open secret.  I mean I don't hide the fact that I keep one, nor am I shy journaling in public.  What is new for me is that I admit publicly that yes, I am a diarist, however my motivation for doing so shallow (Must distinguish myself from other posters on the Net says my ego).  

What I wasn't expecting from what this would do for me was that it has given me perspective.  For example, because I've kept those journals from my past, I do on occasion re-read them.   I have also added running commentary on some entries while clarifying others, usually on the margins, or on the next page.  I have become my own editor of my past, it would seem.  No, I don't delete anything.  I elaborate and expand what is already there.  Aside from pictures, nothing says "My...you have changed!" like past thoughts written on paper.

I suggested to M he should start journaling because his demons was threatening to push me aside again.  He was scared, hurt and very much alone.  I gave him one of my new Moleskin journals, still wrapped up in its cellophane.  He accepted it and told me that no one had ever given him anything so personal.  It was sweet for him to notice, but I figured that Moleskin was going to be used properly.  Today, we went to one of our favorite stationary stores, one that sells mostly writing implements from Japan.  And he found his tool, a red fountain pen.  As for me, I wrote in my journal tonight.  It is right next beside me, with my own personal writing tool, a Pilot Hi-Tec Colleto Lumio with 4 interchangeable ink barrels.  

I don't know what will happen to my journals in the future.  I have yet to decide if I will burn them when I die, or to give them to my niece or nephew as an inheritance.  I don't particularly care, I doubt they will ever be published.  Hell, I doubt they can even read it, my handwriting has become ever more atrocious as I age.  But, until then, I will continue to keep this practice of writing pen on bound paper.  

Journals to be

Out of Winter Hybernation and finding clarity

So after the New Years, and after our Disneyland vacation a week later, we ended up not doing very much socially, kink or otherwise, for the next few months. Instead we became home bound, hybernated state.  We also both experience short periods of...blahness?  I wouldn't call it depression, though for me depression was mixed into a feeling of malaise.   I can't say if it was because our Introverted natures needed our spaces, or that on a physiological level, our bodies needed a break.  I really can't blame the weather this time.  This winter seems to be schizophrenic, with some days looking like it should be summer.  As a matter of fact, its colder now, in early April, than it was the first of January.

This state of ours was starting to worry M, because my libido, in general, was at a very low place.  At some point, I think he was worried that it might have to do with him.  I assured him that it wasn't; however, that didn't stop him from feeling inadequate.  I knew for a fact that I was not myself.  I don't think that my work situation helped.  I had several tight deadlines during the month of February, with things just going wrong on every turn.

And, to be honest, I think I was still working out all of this poly stuff in my head. Eh, I don't know why I've been hyper-obsessed about all of this, though I think this is the one instance where learning more about a subject and reading other people's experience on polyamory did not alleviate my fear, my concerns.  In fact, I just wanted to rebel with the conventional wisdom.  Usually when I get this way, it means that I've been over analyzing all of this, and I just needed to walk away.  So, I stopped reading the forums on Fetlife and stopped reading my messages that was culminating in my OkCupid mail box.  Instead I focused on the one question that matter the most to me, What I wanted?  Well, to answer that question I looked to my past.

I kept referring back to my past lovers, specifically two of them, one in my youth, the other while I was married.  Both relationships were very different, but occupied a very special time and space for me that I would never trade in the world.  Despite its tenuous nature, I was blessed to have "loved" (perhaps not in the traditional sense) these men.

In this introspection, I came to realize was that this is what I wanted out of all of this, peak experiences with individuals, that both engaged my body and my spirit. I could be intimate with this person for two weeks or two lifetimes.  This person could be my lover, my submissive, my dominant and also a friend that would impact my life, in any way.  I don't mean to imply to say that I want to collect people for its own sake.  But if people came along in my life that was there for a reason only the universe knows, I don't want to deny them. Life is too short, love is limitless, and I become a better person with them in my life.   Look, I know who I am.  I own my shit.  I have my boundaries for a reason.  And I still love M.  He is my anchor in life and love.  Yeah, this is complicated.  Let it be, I never took the easy route before.

Okay, so lets bring this back to the here and now.  M and I have turned a corner, and our need to be social again is back.  Along with our libidos.  Yay!  I don't think we are done wrestling with this topic of Poly.  But then again I don't think this gets easier.  Maybe.  All I know is that we will be back to being our kinky selves, as soon as video game releases are out, a certain dungeon gets back inline, and life in general settles back to normal.  /shrug  Well its a start.