Tack Bra And Boobday – Again!

It’s not the first time I have shared a photo of my breasts inside a tack bra for Boobday. Last time (my first time) was almost five years ago. Left to my own devices I’d made some drawing pin laden inserts for a flimsy little trainer bra. It had padded inserts that I removed, turned into prickly cushions and then put them back inside. These were secured by the fabric as well as the fullness of my breasts filling the fabric.

Back in July D asked me to wear a tack bra for him, a Boobday post followed.

I shared a little about this once the dust had settled, but the inserts tipped me into a dark spot. The way D managed this surprised me, made me smile, feel at ease once more. I thought that was the end of it, that I had spat my dummy out over my boobs and could get back to accepting and enjoying them.

How wrong I was!

So, last week I popped them in again. It was a further request from D, with me excited to get them in. (If slightly trepidatious due to my response last time.) Putting them in was like flicking a switch but I only had ninety minutes to wear them and I would DEFINITELY settle quickly.

Only I didn’t.

And by the time I had decided to ask to remove them D was unavailable for a few hours. I pushed on for a while, until I absolutely couldn’t any longer. Reasoning that he wouldn’t want me broken I made the executive decision to remove the inserts, but still the tears. ALL the tears!

A weekend of gentle kindness, hiding out at SWLs house, keeping in close contact with D via messages and (fortunately) a scheduled counselling session. Turns out that you can’t ignore the shitty times forever, they need addressing. And I have always been willing to explore the recesses of my soul in order to find a way to make life better. I consider myself extremely fortunate that I have been able to work through the triggers that plagued me, moving on to healthier responses. It gives me faith that when I stumble across buried trauma – like last week – I can right myself. And even ask for a helping hug to hold me up while I sift through the detritus.

Fortunately hugs with SWL, snuggles with Bliss and cuddles with D have wrapped me up in the care I was unable to provide for myself last weekend. As for D… it’s a rare man who gets tear stains on his shirt because of me. Much less, one with a beard!!!

This won’t be the last time I wear a tack bra, and (as the host) I won’t be hiding from Boobday.

I have added it to my limits for solo play, and will proceed with caution with D as and when the time is right.

As I looked at (and enjoyed) this picture today I was chuckling at myself. Well, almost chuckling. I LOVE this photo! It is such a pretty shot after all. My lovely, lacy bra glistening with the heads of the pins. I was smiling – possibly because I’d also been asked to wear a butt plug too and that was just about to go in.

How could such a pretty, simple scene possibly cause such distress.

Surely I was being silly?

Nope. Not at all. We feel what we feel and pushing down the hurt will only amplify it. Ignoring it because you’ve bigger challenges that need your attention is fine. Just be prepared for the stinger when your mind feels safe to open up old wounds long since processed.

I’ve got homework from my counsellor, and will be working through that once I have a quiet home again. While I wouldn’t ask for help if I had no intention of following through, I’m under strict instructions to follow her guidance. It’s nice to be accountable to someone other than myself again. Yes, I’m embarrassed to require the same conversation twice in quick succession. But I’m glad to be under the watchful eye of a snuggle monster who I can cry on. Literally.

So I’ve decided to share this today, for anyone who thinks they shouldn’t be emotional over… Something that seems so innocuous, especially when looking back at it. Those feelings… You’re allowed to feel them. That is what they are there for.