Chasing Me Chasing You

An uncollared submissive struggling through depression, motherhood, and the constant craving of her next orgasm.

Birthday Blues

I’m 32. I know, that’s not really that old, but I am feeling my age today. Mostly the adult part.

I was really hurt yesterday that my husband didn’t say ‘happy birthday’ in the morning. He didn’t say it when we messaged back and forth while I was work. He didn’t say it until I had gone up to pout in our room when I got home from work. I know, it makes me sound like a four year old, but I don’t care. No one at my office knew it was my birthday, and I wasn’t going to shout it from the rooftops. So as far as work was concerned it was just another day.

And I should have been okay with that. I don’t really like attention from people I don’t know. Private attention from Sir, a lover, or a friend is fine, but I don’t like being a public spectacle. However, as the day wore on, I could feel myself starting to dip. It may have just been that the husband remained silent, but by the time I got home I was a mess. I don’t know why it affected me so much.

I think I had just hoped for a bit more attention at home. The boys had made me a card and my husband had baked a cake on Sunday. It was lovely, and the gifts they bought were very nice. Maybe I just needed a hug.

But, now I am 32. Fretting about things I cannot change won’t help me move forward. And it’s not like I had a terrible birthday. Lovely people wished me a happy day and the fact that they thought of me was special. Now to finish out these last few weeks at my job and start at a place where I’m not self-conscious sharing my birthday with my co-workers.

Update

I really wanted to write. I have missed this space and all the supportive, wonderful people who come and read. I have missed the inspiration to write about sex I’ve had and fantasies for the future. Writing about BDSM and how, even though dynamics have changed, it’s a huge part of my life. But life happens.

Instead I cried at my computer to my Dom. He patiently listened and wrote back in his supportive way. He told me I wasn’t a failure and I balled. He told me he cared about me and I balled. It was largely me crying and him telling me that it was going to be alright.

Sadly, not that inspiring. But I’m getting there. This is the first time in awhile I’ve really been pulled to write. I miss what this blog gives me.

So hopefully this is my comeback. After two months off I need to get my sexy juices flowing again (in more ways than one). Thank you for being patient while I work through the random shit that is my vanilla life. But I don’t think that I want to be away anymore. No matter what is going on I need this safe space to just be me.

Hope you’ll all stick with me. 🙂

I Haven’t Run Off to Join the Circus

Sorry I’ve been a bit MIA. I honestly have a few different posts started and just need to find some quiet time to finish them.

Last night my mother called to tell me that a dog was hit in front of our farm house last night. Just like our dog that was hit five years ago. I tried my best to hold it together on the phone with her, but I collasped as soon as I hung up. It triggered everything with my PTSD. I haven’t had an episode like that in years. But I couldn’t stop shaking. I was really looking forward to a cider after dinner, but I couldn’t stomach it.

My husband was wonderful. He held me and let me cry. We curled up with the kids and watched a movie. It was nice to just be able to sit quietly. Though I’ll admit it was difficult to focus on much.

We have people coming over for dinner tonight, so not sure when I will get to write ‘for real’. Maybe the extra time will help me make sense of all my thoughts. Fingers crossed you won’t get another rambling mess of a post like this one. Anyone know with any type of mental illness knows that sometimes you just don’t have any control and you just have to ride the wave. I really wasn’t prepared for this wave, so we’ll see how it goes.

Security Blanket

I’m trying to decide if I should start wearing another necklace to ‘replace’ my collar. Obviously it wouldn’t replace it; I’m not even sure it would being fill the hole I feel. But, it could help me to feel some sort of weight like I had with the collar.

The collar that my Sir gave me was a surgical steel chain that was quite heavy. I would play with it whenever I was trying to think. It was a comfort and a weight that stayed with me throughout the day. I would touch and think of him, and I would know that he was thinking of me. It reminded me that he cared for me.

Without that security blanket around my neck I have been struggling. I didn’t realize how closely tied it was to my self-confidence. I’ve just been surprised at how much I have been questioning my decisions lately.

Which leads me to the conclusion that another, purely ornamental, necklace really wouldn’t change much. I would still feel just as lost. Some silly charm or a string of fake pearls wouldn’t have the same meaning, no matter how much I would want it to. In fact, it may just highlight the fact that I don’t have a collar. It would merely re-enforce I’m not owned by anyone. That hurt isn’t going to go away just because my neck isn’t bare.

I think I am looking for whatever I need to do to get passed this. There are a lot of elements of a break up, but it quickly gets more complicated. We’re still married, we still love one another. That doesn’t change the fact that sometimes I want to scream and cry though. I don’t (or haven’t yet). There isn’t a clean break, so to speak, so it’s hard to process sometimes.

I think I want a new necklace to try and feel like I am fixing myself. Getting myself together and being the type of person who is strong enough to be someone’s sub again. Currently, I’m in such a weird head-space I shouldn’t be anyone’s sub. I don’t want to be a pity project or a burden for someone. Then I would feel even worse.

Eventually something that is meaningful, in one way or another, will come along. Maybe by then I’ll be at a place where the idea of replacing my collar won’t be so horrific. Then I’ll be strong enough to call a necklace and be okay with it.

Why do I set myself impossible tasks when I have the patience of a two year old?

Staying Positive

This week has been an emotional sinkhole. The ground beneath me falling away and a constant drizzle of stress and pain.

My collar is off. My website should just be mom at this point. Or maybe submissive mom. No matter what, I’m still a submissive.

Husband and I are doing okay. Taking the collar off was rough. I held it together, barely. He was really cold about it though, and that hurt. He tried to cuddle after we got the boys to bed, but I just couldn’t. I needed to be left alone. It was my choice to take it off, but that didn’t change how much it hurt for me. I’ve had that collar on since before my youngest son was born. Nearly three years of it’s weight as a physical representation of my submission to him disappeared from my body. I knew it was going to hurt, but I wasn’t prepared for how hard it would hit.

Now, more than 24-hours later things have calmed. I don’t know how positive we both feel, but we’re pretending pretty well. He is trying to be more attentive and I appreciate that. We are both planning to talk more this weekend about where we stand. I love him and I know he loves me. But I’m not sure how we are going to compromise to meet each others’ needs.

I just hope he’s ready to fight for me. Lately it feels like he wants me to tell him to go so he doesn’t have to make the call. He said that he doesn’t think he was a good dominant because he doesn’t get off on extra responsibility. Honestly, I should have seen that. But he seems to be withdrawing from all responsibilities lately. And as much as I have needs that aren’t being met right now, our family needs to be the priority.

Despite all that, I’m trying my best to stay positive. We care about each other; that’s what matters. I may have to alter how I meet my need for submission, but that doesn’t mean that it has to ruin my marriage. I’ll find a way to still be me. To still be that collared mom, even if the collar is in a drawer right now.

The Weight of Hurt

“You didn’t want to get your clit pierced? Why did you put it on your 101 Things list?”

“Because you said you were going to order me to get it done.”

“Well, I guess you’re off the hook then.”

~

It’s conversations like this that crush me. What am I supposed to say to that? I wanted to be on the hook. That was the whole fucking point. I agreed to let him do what he wanted with my body; piercings were part of that.

This is why I think I need to take my collar off. I feel like I need to regain and recenter myself a bit. He knows how much I want to submit to him and I think that’s the problem. Like I need to make him earn my submission again, if he even wants it.

That’s the rub. He wants me to be happy, but he admits he cannot meet that need. And if everything else in our relationship were solid then I think I may be able to back away from my need to submit. But with everything else weighing me down, I need this type of release. I just don’t see how to make that work.

Where does that leave my submission in the possibly indefinite interim? I certainly wouldn’t be collared mom anymore (though it’s not like I’m really going to change the page or my twitter name). He’s not comfortable with me finding a local dom. He doesn’t want me to invested in a distance or online dominant either.

I may be ‘off the hook’, but still very much in the tank.

Personal Highs & Global Lows: 2016 Year in Review

This has been a year of ups and downs (how generic is that?). I’m not really sure I’ve had a year with more dramatic highs and lows. It’s just odd how many personal goals I have achieved this year. I think they were surrounded by so many global lows that it’s hard to find them through the fog. Between Brexit and the clusterfuck that was the U.S. Presidential election, it’s been tough. Not to mention all the influential people that have passed away this year. It’s been a public year that I would love to leave behind, but a personal year that I wouldn’t mind repeating.

I started my own business. – It has always been a goal and last February I officially got my L.L.C. up and running. I haven’t become a worldwide sensation, but I have a few clients and some pretty business cards. Hopefully I can give it more time in the coming year, but it will probably never be a full-time thing, and that’s okay.

We moved into our house. – Although we bought it in 2015, we didn’t officially move in until May of this year. The kitchen remodel and refinishing the floors took several months, and it was great to move into finished product rather than a renovation. There are still projects to do, there always are, but we are finally settled. Moving from rental to rental was a stressful process, and the idea of not looking at a moving truck for a decade or two sounds downright blissful.

I went back to work. – Separate from the business, I went back to work. I had been employed as a consultant for a database company from home. But when the opportunity came up to get back into an office and get good insurance coverage for everyone, I jumped at it. Don’t get me wrong, I miss my old masturbation sessions with Jack in the afternoon, but getting out of the house has been good for me. I mean, I wear more than sweatpants now, so that’s something.

My sleeve tattoo is finally finished. – I need to get a good picture to show it off, but I’m beyond happy with it. The whole thing took about 18 months to complete. There were several months between some of my appointments due to various hangups for me and my artist. But early in December I was able to go for my last piece of lace and touch-ups. I’m sure I’ll have a few spots that I will go back and have darkened at some point. Right now though, I couldn’t be happier with what she was able to do with my design request.

And then there were the more kinky aspects of my year….

We opened our marriage. – After talking a lot about other partners and sexual experiences, my husband and I decided to open our marriage. Looking back, this has been a roller coaster of a decision. I had a not go good interaction with a local dom that made me take a huge step back and question everything. Luckily, I kept an open mind and learned from my mistakes. Finding Jack and Jill and visiting them this fall was an amazing experience. Hopefully we will be able to work out another visit (or twelve) this year.

I started identifying as Poly. – I think I can safely say that this is purely because of Jack. After my negative experience, I never really thought that I would find someone that I had a deep emotional connection with outside of my marriage. When we opened up, I was looking for a friend with benefits. Someone to joke around with and maybe exchange oral once and awhile. But he is so much more than I could have hoped for. Aside from sharing a birthday, he has become such a good friend and lover. I am so happy to call him secondary and I know that our relationship will do nothing but grow in the coming year. (Get it, I said coming. He appreciates me, don’t judge.)

I had sex with a woman. – I don’t really classify myself as bisexual. Women are beautiful and I appreciate their minds and bodies. I just don’t really have emotional connections with them like I do with men. The one woman I thought I loved broke my heart, so it’s not really anything I’ve looked for. Visiting California this fall was a wonderful chance to have my first threesome and experience a woman’s body. Jill is lovely and I appreciate her letting me have that connection with her. Certainly something I would love to do again.

I doubled my ‘slept with’ list. – Not only did I have my first same-sex sexual encounter this year, but I actually doubled the number of people I have slept with. I went from three to six. I know, I was shocked too. Not sure I will be able to do the same next year, but as that number hasn’t changed at all in the decade before this, I was impressed.

I finally stopped ‘fighting’ my submission. – Through everything that Sir (my husband) has been dealing with this year I kept coming back to whether or not I really needed submission. Maybe I could just turn it off and everything would be easier. It took me awhile, but I realized that that’s stupid. I’m a submissive. I always have been in one form or another and I know now that I always will be. And I have the power to submit to who I choose. I know these seem like obvious conclusions to reach, but it’s taken me awhile to get there.

As far as resolutions go I tend to be too optimistic. I set high expectations for myself and then hate myself by the end of January. I always want to lose weight and write more, so we’ll see how that goes. My 101 Things in 1001 Days ends this year, so there are several things to work toward on there. Lots more photos, reflection, and erotic writing to come. And, I’m sure, the continuing fight with my depression will appear from time to time. You know, to break up all the boob pics.

 

November Goals

The last few days have been pretty rough. I wasn’t in a great place on Sunday and things went down hill through the afternoon. Sunday night I was a crying mess. I think my poor twitter boyfriend and Jack were both ready to strangle me through the internet. I just couldn’t pull myself out of it.

In the end Sir and I had a good talk. It was long and emotional, something which usually causes us to avoid it at all costs. But we have been drifting too long; we needed this to figure out how to come back together. Work stress and various other things have been pushing on each of us the last few weeks, and it finally came to a head. In the end we were both feeling a lot of the same loneliness and overwhelmed confusion. And, as usually happens, we realized our silliness and had some amazing make-up sex.

So…on a completely different note, I have decided to take part in two ‘events’ going on in the month of November. The first (tangentially related) is All Anal November. It’s one my 101 Things goals and something I’ve always wanted to try. We are setting some rules that oral is still allowed (because Sir still wants to be able to demand his cock be sucked). Basically I’m not allowed any vaginal penetration. No dildos, nothing. My pussy is already twitching in desperation. But, Sir wanted to look at enemas as a regular thing, so this will give us the chance to try that. Who am I kidding, I’ll be whining about how much I want fucked within a week.

The other thing I’m attempting this year is NaNoWriMo, which stands for National Novel Writing Month. The goal is to write 50,000 words, or a rough draft of a novel in the month of November. I have an idea and a chapter outline, we’ll see if that’s enough. I’m supposed to aim for around 1,700 words a day to stay on target. With trying to write sexy things on here and write that, it should be an interesting month.

A lot of things to look forward to and to keep me on track for the next few weeks. Weight-loss, writing, and lots of anal sex. This might be my favorite month this year.

Beautiful Image

Sometimes I think that if I wore make-up, waxed my eyebrows, and wore designer clothes I would be more successful. I hate even the possibility of that being true. My exterior looks have nothing to do with my work ethic. Just because I don’t regularly dye my hair has nothing to do with my inner-beauty. But there is a part of me that would love to feel like a put together woman and maybe that would make me more successful in general.

You know those women. The ones who pick their kids up at school completely put together. Walking across the playground in stilettos looking fabulous. The ones who balance their work life, home life, and everything else perfectly. The woman in the grocery store who looks better than you do going on a first date. Or those women who can make me feel unaccomplished and lazy just by talking about their workouts, charitable donations and craftiness in making their kids’ Halloween costume. No matter what I’ve cleaned or what project I’ve finished, I just can’t keep up with them.

The reality is that even if I did take the time and pay the money to have all those treatments and services to make myself beautiful, it wouldn’t magically transform me into one of them. Hoping that a manicure will suddenly make me more attractive and therefore more productive is just stupid. And honestly, I would just feel guilty for spending the money, so I wouldn’t even end up feeling good about myself afterward.

Sometimes I wish I would though. A wax or some hair color might be nice once in awhile. As it stands I’m not sure I’ve had a haircut since early in the spring (I want to say March). Sometimes I wish I could forgive myself for wanting something for me every once in awhile. Currently my tattoo appointments are the only things that I pamper myself with. And the guilt after one of those is quite high as they tend to run a few hundred dollars each time I go. Hopefully my appointment in December will finish my sleeve and then I will have to be done for quite a while.

To clarify, I don’t begrudge those put together women. If anything I am jealous of the way they manage their lives and obviously still find time to put themselves first for at least part of the day. My apparent self-flagellation is the out-liar here, not them. I just have no idea how to get to where they are. Moving through self-doubt and poor body-image is a slow process. And making time and using money for myself is difficult when both are scarce.

Sorry, I was really hoping I was going to come to an actual conclusion there. That my brain would realize an obvious solution or something as I wrote this mini-rant against myself. Apparently not.