My dominance is made not born.

This post is a response to all the claim that his/her dominance was somehow innate.  I understand that this may be a case for some people.  As for me, It never felt like that.  If anything, I always felt that I was thrusted into this role against my volition.  I was taught I shouldn't be a strong female.  Yet, everything in life has shown me otherwise.  

What I was born with was an incurable sense of curiosity, a strong ego, an independence streak, a body that is sexually insatiable, and a quirky self-defense mechanism aka my self depreciating humor.  I was born to be a shameless hussy.  I don't deny that my personality have a big part of this.  After all, how you react to what life throws at you determines how you are going to act.

But let's not ignore life experience in the equation.  Part of my life experience was forged out of years of mistakes, broken hearts and egos, and wondering who the fuck I was. Every time I was in a relationship with a guy who chided me for not letting him control things, or when anyone told me being a strong female was unattractive and that I would always be alone, would make dents to my armor, but did not break me.  Every time things would fall to the wayside, I would pick up the pieces and move on, because shit needed to be done.  I can add all the thankless little tasks I would do for the people I love, the painful obstacles that I had to endure, the stupid decisions I made that lead me to here. Let's not forget the positive things, the impromptu solutions that turned out to be serendipitous, the discoveries I've made, and the people who've I've met and loved along the way have made meaningful contributions.  

This is what has made me what I am today, and it is what I draw my dominance from. My dominance was forged from my experiences and my personality.  Not unlike becoming a soldier.  All soldiers are made, but great soldiers are cultivated in battle, under life and death situations.  Yes, it's work, but I wouldn't have it any other way. 

Being alone..but not really

When I came out to my ex-husband, I told him that my dating pool just shrunk considerably. He kept telling me that I'll find someone, and repeated that mantra to me, to reassure me. But he just didn't get it. As a poly person, there is no “one person”.  I let it slide. It was late and I didn't have the heart to explain it.

I think I eluded to dating in the poly/kinky world in the past, but even where I live, in what seems to be kink mecca, there's not a lot of poly/kinky people out here.  Actually, it's quite incestious at times. For example,  my hypno/magic friend have dated two women with whom I've been acquainted with in my social circle. So yes...it's that tiny. Now, I've opened up my dating pool to include vanilla/monogamous. But as many a post in Fetlife can attest, dating vanilla/monogamous people, as a poly/kinky person, have their own set of problems. Nevertheless, I was once vanilla and monogamous, surely I'd find some who may be interested in exploring this “lifestyle”, or at the very least can get to understand what it is I am.

Making the decision to become a poly/kinky person made me realize that not only was I going to run into people who probably won't understand what this means, but that I will run into people who will judge me and disapprove.  I'm ok with that. No, I haven't ran into judgy people yet; but then again, the only other person I've told about this, besides the ex-husband, is my roommate.  He's the last person to ever judge me, since he's had open relationships in the past. 

Because I want to be responsible about this, I need to disclose my poly/kinky status early on in the relationship, preferably in the attraction phase, before things become enmeshed.  But in practice, just starting that dialogue is problematic. Many people think that just talking about the subject, ruins “the mystery” of letting the relationship unfold on its own. I will write about this odd communication quirk in another post. Suffice it to say, my own attempts at trying to do just that have failed miserably.  I'm also having to screen for people with whom I can trust to tell them about my status and my instincts tell me that a lot of people couldn't handle this disclosure.

All of this brings me to my main point...that I will be in this semi-single state for awhile, and that I will have to accept that I will be alone for most of it.  Okay, to be fair, I've felt alone in those last few months before I broke up with M, and I felt periods of loneliness in my marriage.  It's just that what I usually do is go from one heavy-duty relationship after another, and this is the first time I haven't done so.  Instead, the universe is very clear on what I need to do right now...that I need to be comfortable being alone.  With my time and space not being occupied to a relationship, the universe would like me to work on myself...by creating,  by being open and expansive with people and situations, and by attending to my spiritual needs.

And one of the revelations that has revealed to me recently is that I'm really not alone.  On a mundane level, I have friends and lovers who love me and who are there for me.  Some of them are actually vanilla folks who don't know my poly/kinky side.  But most of them are my kinky friends and lovers have been supportive of me ever since the break-up.   I can even add my roommate to that list.  On a spiritual/esoteric level, I am never alone.  All of those talks/books on Buddhism, that I've been surrounding myself for the last 9 months, have taught me that I am part of the known universe, from the smallest quark to the largest supernova.  How can I say that I am alone when I keep such meaningful company!

I'm really surprised that I didn't start this whole journey of mine like this over five years ago, when I started this blog.  But then again, I don't think I was ready for it.  I'm not sure why I'm ready for this now.  Perhaps I had to meet M in order to find the poly/kinky side of me, and now that I've found it, I'm whole?  All I know is that I'm not in a rush to get into a primary relationship, although from time to time I do ponder that it would be nice to be in one.  But that feeling is like childhood nostalgia, fleeting and not rooted in reality.  No, I'm not obsessed with it, and I'm really loving my freedom.

The long complicated process of letting go...or trying to.

A few weeks ago, I woke up one Sunday to an immeasurable sadness that came over me quite suddenly and unexpectedly, as I tried to get ready to take my walk to the farmers market. As I let this sadness take over me, I sat on my bed crying uncontrollably. Eventually I made it to the farmer's market.  But when I came home, while trying to explain to someone via text what happened, I again cried. My attempt of rationalizing this sadness only lead to confusion and doubt. It became apparent that I couldn't rationalize why I felt this way.

Since I moved into this place, I always felt this presence around me. Now, let me make this clear; I prefer to use observable explanations and make analytical judgements on the world around me. I like to think that most things can be explained rationally. I do have some beliefs, but I don't think it conflicts with what is known. Nevertheless I “felt” a presence, something tugging me when my guard is down. That Sunday I think I figured out what that was. It was the shadow figure of something I invoked out of M. Something that the both of us was probably not ready to invoke.

For you see, at one point, when we were deep into our D/s period of our relationship, I found M's little boy. I think that presence is this little boy. I picture him as a young boy of five, with blond hair and big blue eyes looking at me as if waiting for answers and reassurances.  He always looks sad.

Now, I don't know if M left his little boy with me out of a deliberate decision to cut that part of his life because he didn't need him anymore, or that he broke all ties with me and his old life so severely that he forgot that his little boy was on my side of the bridge he was burning. Or simply, that I could not let him go...because he was mine.  I suppose, because of our protracted break-up, I am now coming into terms with the fact that I have feelings for M, that I am still hurting, and that I am a long way of being healed. This was my first D/s relationship and such, it's the most intense relationship I've ever been. I think we both hurt each other unintentionally because frankly, we just fumbled along with this. And to tell you the truth, I really didn't know what I was doing. Does anyone?

I really don't want to let M's little boy go. I still love him. I want to mother him like he should have been. That little boy is very special to me. I keep him very close to my heart. But after that morning, I wonder, is it healthy for me to keep him? After all, he is not mine to keep...is he? He belongs to M, whether M wants him or not.

After asking much needed advice to my friends, I decided that I need a ritual to talk to this little boy, to show him how much I love him, to set him on his way back to M. Yet, I have a hard time trying to do this. Again, there is a part of me that is reluctant to let him go. But the other part of me thinks this is silly.  There is no such thing as a presence.  All of this is just a convenient way of denying myself what really is going on...that I'm not over M.  The little boy is just a metaphor for M, that M is with someone else, and the fact that he doesn't love me anymore still hurts me.

Nevertheless, I still "feel" that this little boy is with me. I can still feel his presence and I think he feels lonely and abandoned; The very conditions that brought him to existence to begin with.  Perhaps the little boy is with me because I feel that way too. Convenient delusion or not, we both need closure. So I must do this. I want to do this correctly, but I'm not sure how.

 

Intermezzo No. 1

So, there have been some minor skirmishes since I last written here. All of it at work. Despite still having a job and managing to survive, I'm still sort of feel confused and very discombobulated over it. Just when I thought things have settled for me there, people and events keep coming to me that makes me wonder if there are more to come. I still think that there is more to this that I'm not seeing. The universe has been insisting that I am on the right path. It's just that at the moment, I don't see the big plan. Or, perhaps, I am to forge ahead in order to move the story forward.  

Despite this veil, a couple of things have come up that have let me see a few steps on my path.  I'm going to write these in two posts, just so that I can give them both the time and space it deserves.

 

In the meantime, I guess I'm just going to let you all know that I'm doing rather well, even with all the drama at work. My home life is relatively stable and still very positive. My roommate is wonderful and I've gotten to know my neighborhoods intimately, by first eating through it, then walking miles and miles of it. One day, I will start running it.

I want to thank you for your patience on me not writing in awhile; The universe seems to have designs for me that I must heed.  In the meantime, a musical interlude that sums up what I've been feeling.  Enjoy :)

Conversations with the Ex-Husband

One of the first things I did when I moved into my new place was call my ex-husband.  I think I was asking him about open studios and we ended up talking about M and our own relationship.

He now has a girlfriend who he loves and gives love in return.  He does report that she has a hard time when he talks about me in front of her, despite the fact that there is nothing between us romantically.  But he likes the fact that she does get jealous, something he considers is a sign that she cares for him.  Now, neither of us will not end our friendship;  however, I'm not going to go over to his place to hang out with him as pals. 

It is odd to be writing about the person that was the impetus of this blog;  The person I was estranged with and dealing with a loss of our marriage.  I don't think I need to tell you how easy this process has been for me, all you need is to read my past entries.  I can't speak for him, he went through some similar processing, discovering himself and what he wanted from his life.  But I can tell you, with a definite degree of certainty, that I consider him my best friend, and perhaps my love of my life.  I am glad to report that Time does heal, for the both of us, to the point that I can still have  poignant conversations with him.  Interestingly enough, my conversations haven't deviated much from when we were married.  We had lovely conversations about lots of stuff back then. 

Let's go back a year or two for some background.  He called for me for, oh I'm not sure now...to meet him for lunch?  It was something rather mundane.  At the end of that conversation, he stated he found my OKCupid profile.  He asked if this was something I had up before I meet M.  I told him, "It's something like that."  What didn't happen was a conversation about me being Poly and kinky.  I doubled checked my profile, and yup..the first sentence in that first paragraph, it stated that I was Poly and Kinky.  I was a bit disappointed that he didn't mention it, but let it go.

A couple of weeks after I broke up with M, I talked to D again; this time, I casually come out to him as Poly and Kinky.  He said he knew, after reading my OKCupid profile.  In an emotional exchange through text I told him, out of the everyone I knew, it was really important for me to come out to him.  Because if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be the person I am today.  It is this start that gave me the courage to seek out the potentiality of what I can be.  It is this gift he gave me, and one that I will always be grateful.

42

Ah yes...the meaning of life.  I don't know why this number has always been special for me.  Maybe because I fell in love with Douglas Adams at such an impressionable age.  I ravished his books, which helped me form my outlook in life, and develop my sense of dry humor.  He also inspired me to write.  Ok, it has taken me years to get to that point, but for some reason he made me realize that being quirky and weird is a beautiful thing in the world.

It is also my birthday, and I am the same age as the meaning of life.  If I was prone to finding signs where there are none, I would say that this is an auspicious year.  The realist in me knows that I can not rest on such precarious laurels.

Yet, despite my work life, life itself is wonderful.  I am loving my home life.  I have a great roommate and have a home that is peaceful, with no drama.  My love life could be better, but honestly I am truly happy being on my own, without being beholden to anyone else.  I am not without love however. I am blessed with an abundance of love given to me by my friends and lovers.

Because of this, I want to tell people how happy I am to be turning 42.  Yet, even at work, there is an unspoken rule that we should never ask anyone's age.  Especially around your birthdays, lest you offend someone.  It's sad really.  I want to tell people how old I am.  So I can show off my geeky side and make my tribute to my favorite writer Douglas Adams.  I want to tell everyone the story of 42, and why its not about asking about THE question, its about asking about the RIGHT question.  I want to revel in my maturity, the wisdom I have gain, and dammit...show off how wonderful and sexy 42 can be, shall be!

My plans for my birthday?  Get my hair done, get a mani-pedi, get my eyebrows done.  Perhaps get a massage?  Not sure.  Treat myself to dinner, and drinks...perhaps at Flora.  Eat cake!!!  Then make time in the middle of that to do my timesheet....because I forgot to do my fucking timesheet!  Fuck you work!

But let's not end this positive post with work; because god knows I've spent an ungodly amount of time dealing with stupidity at work in the last few weeks.  Seriously, if anyone needs a high level admin person who has become a wizard with spreadsheets and scheduling, let me know :D

Where was I?  Oh right...42.  So here's to grabbing my towel, hitching a ride, and discovering the universe on my terms, with my eyes open, and laughing at the absurdity of life and love.

The "New Life"

The search for a place turned out to be a complete and utter nightmare, as I began and ended in my search in the middle of another housing boom, which resulted in 20 people for every place I looked at.  It didn't help that I was searching during the start of the summer, one of the busiest times to move.  At a week to spare, I ended up landing a roommate situation, that suited the both of us.  He works during the evenings, while I have my 9 to 5 job.  

I'm week one of settling into my new place.  Mostly everything is in it's place.  I need to take the boxes out of the apartment, take and grab some items to my storage place, and eventually get a new bed.  I'm just happy that I have internet access :)

It is easy to say that my new life started as soon as I left that lovely house in the hills, with the flowing wisteria in the front yard.  However, my life changed as soon as I broke up with M.  As I found myself in my new room last Thursday evening, the finality of that separation didn't manifest itself until I moved myself and my cat into my new place.  Traumatized by the ride to his new home in a carrier, the cat scurried around trying to find a place to hide, until he settled into the covers of my bed.  Meanwhile, as I was trying to soothe him, tears streamed out of my eyes, down on my face, and didn't stop until I decided to have a drink from one of the bottles of alcohol that M foisted on me.  

Before I left the old place, I gave M a hug and a kiss on the cheek, and wished him good luck.  I don't know what the future holds between the both of us, but my instincts was telling me that this will be the last time I will see him.  I texted him during my crying episode that I will miss him and to keep in touch.  I meant every word I wrote.

So here I am, settling and beginning another chapter of my life.  Those annoying quotes in my title is to cue the reader of the use of the word "Life" as sort of used in irony, like in Alanis Morissette definition of irony.  Essentially, we only have one life. Many themes, many chapters, but only one life.  We might as live it as a special entity, never to happen again, which is true, I believe.  As this blog started on one journey, I am now on a different trajectory than M's, onto a different story, one written by me, for me for a change.

Despite the sadness, the confusion I experienced throughout this separation, it is a marked different one than the last, even at this early stage.  I'm not in a hurry to have another primary boyfriend, even though there are stirrings inside me to go out and be seen again as sexy dominant woman.  The first thing I've done is read a book I bought a few years ago that hadn't been read yet.  The next book I will read after this one will be a series of books I meant to read a few years ago as well.  Tomorrow I'm going to the city to see a play, on my own.  The next few weeks I plan to reconnect with friends.  But dating?  Not sure.  Oh, I'm still seeing JN, and I'll see if my play partner wants to continue with me.  Even the flirtation is still ongoing at work.  But nothing feels urgent or pressing. That isn't to say that I don't feel raw and emotional.  I am anticipating that the emotions will come in fits and bursts, and I let it flow through me.

That's the first paragraph of my new chapter of my life.  We shall see what the rest of my story will unfold.