After a very late night studying I feel entitled to a lazy start to #boobday.
Good morning world!
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How many undervalue the power of simplicity… But it is the real key to the heart.
The simplicity of the clean lines of my white knickers against the final hints of bruise on my milky white flesh.
After such a wonderful birthday last week, full of kinky goodness and family time, I have been pondering what else I am grateful for. The UK may not celebrate Thanksgiving but it certainly doesn’t hurt to think about the question posed this friday.
Growing up they were never part of the plan, but things change and I have two marvellous little boys who make every day worthwhile. They have saved my life more times than I could ever recall, and their innocence and vulnerability gave me the strength to make the changes needed in my marriage, and fix boundaries with their dad. They make me laugh until my ribs ache and inspire me to be the best example I can for them. They teach me lessons daily, whether that is the immediate emotions of a five-year old, or translating the puzzling behaviours of a ten-year old autistic boy, whose magic world is so amazing he struggles to comprehend this silly world we all have to live in together.
The moors and coast are my happy places. I would like to say that I am lucky to live here, sandwiched between these wild open spaces that feed my soul, and I truly believe that I am! However, I am also very aware that I engineered this move to give myself the space to heal, and the boys a wonderful life, and I am grateful that I live in a world where that relocation was possible. Being here has given me the space to heal, to excise those emotional wounds which had festered so long and turned toxic. I didn’t have to hold myself on high alert constantly so was able to crumble, fall apart. I’ve since rebuilt, restructured and gained in confidence. My wellbeing is soaring and resilience has improved immensely. The support I’ve had from professionals has been invaluable, but it is my friends who have been the biggest surprise.
I’d never really had any, not of my own. Friends of P, yes. People I was thrown together with through circumstances, yes. But the men and women who are in my life now are incredible, they love me because of who I am, not in spite of it, and after such a long spell of self loathing I can’t express how wonderful that feels. To be authentically me! These wonderful people have shown me that I can ask for support from friends, whereas in the past it was always just me giving. I’m thankful for their patience when I have needed to retreat, their showing me how to lick my wounds, and the late night phone calls when they have been in need.
I thought I knew what love was, but I didn’t. Instead it was a desperate fight not to let people leave me, because I didn’t like myself. With tasks and friends, and exposure to normal(?) friendships I have learnt to love myself, and with that self-love I have found an inner warmth. It has wrapped around my soul and spread out over people who I let in. And this warmth comes from within, it isn’t an external force. It was unlocked by one person, and to Him I shall be forever grateful. Having given me the kindling and matches, Sir will always hold a special place in my heart. I shall be forever thankful to Him for showing me that I can love, without expectation and without being broken by it. And now? Now there is no stopping me!
Now the weather is turning cold, wet and windy I have begun to get back in the swing of things with the challenge I set myself: Tits out tor bagging.
I love dartmoor and want to show it off in all its beauty, but sadly my arms are just not long enough to do that and show my breasts so I was a little grumpy for a while. And then I remembered an app I used to have on my old phone, which is such an easy idea. Of all of the remote trigger apps I chose whistle cam after being recommended it by a rigger. She uses it for her more complex self ties and I used it until my old phone ran out of memory. At which point I filed it away in my own internal archives.
With whistle cam installed I set off running, towards Hunters Tor and set things up. My whistling worries proved unfounded and the app detected my toot with no problem at all.
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From tentative forays into creative writing as a pre-teen girl, allowing the poetry to bubble over through my adolescence and then more technical writing for study and work. I have always found it easier to communicate my thoughts and feelings through the written word; troublesome and happy memories often become tangled up together in my brain like spaghetti, the writing helps to seperate and smooth. When I first met sir he nurtured this by allowing my thoughts to flow through emails, never stifling me. Tasks, reviews and fantasies. Nothing could stop the depraved contents of my mind seeping onto the screen.
When sir came back into my life at the start of the year the blog that he tasked me with seemed overwhelming, confusing. But he knew me, and wanted me to continue to grow, in skill as well as confidence. It wasn’t long before the fear passed and I embraced this new world of communication. I have found a wonderful community where I can share with like-minded souls and, even when the words dry up, I can participate with images and pouring over the writings of others.
Over the last ten months I have meandered my way through thoughts and memories to March 2017, all the while writing new memories. As I mentioned in my Everyday is #Boobday post last week I have just celebrated my birthday. Over the last four years I have made some wonderful friends, and one such lovely lady, Dr Lovelace, organised me an utterly awesome weekend away. It started with a flogging workshop with Aemelia Hawk, of Kabunza Craftwerks. Her workshops have been on my bucket list for a long time, and I came away with skills (some very exciting skills) and some beautiful floggers.
A whistle-stop tour of the hosting club gave us a peek at the exciting times that could be had on future road trips before we dashed off to our next stop, Ticklemania!! I will write in depth when I catch up to now, but as a curious woman with no previous experience I was oddly nervous. Well, oddly for me. However, saturday night saw me as the newbie, and I could not have been made to feel more welcome. I made some new friends, experienced some new things and can wholeheartedly recommend this event, and venue to Lees, Lers, and kinksters. There was also cake…. It seems that my 36th birthday coincided with the tenth Ticklemania, and who doesn’t like cake on their birthday?! (Or any other time, but then I’m a cake slut!)
The next day saw us heading to the Birmingham Bizarre Bazaar. This has been on my list since before I’d even heard of Aemelia, and when our planned photo shoot was cancelled the week before we decided to head along. I’m so pleased we did. We bumped into people from the night before, and I met Zak Jane Keir whose blog I have been following for a while, but didn’t recognise her. As I bought a book we chatted about her writing, and the anthologies she had worked on. A conversation followed on all things Eroticon and writing in general. Life doesn’t seem to be getting any less exciting.
It seems I had better get my writing head back on, so many memories to think about, process and enjoy all over again. And the list doesn’t seem to be getting any shorter! That’s ok though. As Benjamin Franklin is quoted as saying:
Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.
Tomorrow is my birthday. Turning 35 was the end of an incredibly painful year and I was so very, very low. I can barely believe the change in me since then or the progress I have made in the last year, but finding this picture left me reflecting again. This was taken almost mid way between birthdays, and it is very easy for me to look at it and see the physical imperfections.
I started making healthier choices last november, losing 4.5 stone to date. If you are have read many of my posts you will know that I enjoy running too. It isn’t the physical changes that I see in this picture. Last year I had sallow skin and almost constant panda eyes, spending the majority of my time covered in bulky clothes. The peace that I see in the picture above is my everyday now, the demons are much easier to control at the moment and I enjoy just being at peace.
I may be scatty from time to time, and lose focus on the additional tasks, but the important things are taken care of.
I have many things to look forward to, goals to achieve and an enthusiasm I never had in my twenties. Exploring my kinks, meeting new people and remembering to nurture not just my children, but myself as well!
Find out what everyone else is up to for #Boobday
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Basking in the light and glory that comes with not giving a damn.
But I’d arranged to go to dartmoor for some more rope and photos with my friend who took this one, among other pictures. I’ve yet to introduce him properly on here as I haven’t reached the point I met him. But to push my limits with sharing my beloved dartmoor and my soothing coils on a day when I just needed to hide away…
Anyway, he tied me up, and took pictures while I basked in the weak November sun.
And the hikers who stopped for a picnic gave us something to chuckle about.
A good bra is like a friend: hard to find one you’re comfortable with, always provides support, holds you tight and is always close to your heart.
Though I suspect that some are a little prickly at times…
Check out what everyone else is doing over at A Dissolute Life Means…
I don’t think. So, but then I think I’m generally quite a nice person. I would certainly say that I never go out of my way to be unkind or mean to others. What I am learning is to be nice to myself… That certainly takes effort.
I’m going to be cremated and scattered at my favourite spot at the time of death. Currently that will be somewhere on dartmoor, but it may change. I guess the only thing that I want to have in any potential afterlife would be my freedom.
That we have to be perfect. There is nothing wrong with being good enough. (or so I keep trying to tell myself)
Just thinking about that phrase makes my skin crawl. I would certainly hope that I have only done that in jest, but honestly I don’t recall saying it.
The last time I went snooping was here. I can’t say that I wish I hadn’t found it, because it was a valuable lesson in trusting my gut. I wish I hadn’t snooped and had just trusted myself, but I wasn’t ready to do that at the time.
You can’t live your life backwards.
That is my favourite little saying from my childhood. It is probably one of the reasons I am so keen to keep pushing myself onwards.