My brain was screaming loudly, though my mouth remained clamped shut. Silent. Staring at the blank screen in front of me I had been counting down the hours until my deadline. That had now passed, words for the extension request almost failing me too. It was the worst case of block I have ever experienced... Continue Reading →
It is funny how life experience changes us. During my marriage I was made to feel like I couldn't do or achieve anything without having P hold my hand. I now see that for what it was: him holding me back for fear that I would gain confidence and leave. For about a year after... Continue Reading →
Looking down she trailed her fingers along the parallel lines of her suspender straps. The smooth sensation of the belt gripping her soft flesh; snug but not too tight, gripping but not biting. Picking up one stocking she worked her fingers to the toes, bunching up the flimsy nylon. Rolling the fabric over her toes,... Continue Reading →
I still find it astonishing, even after 21 years. You would imagine that it would get easier, and in many ways it has. I can now celebrate the many times we enjoyed, and I can look back with joy in my heart rather than total devastation and, more often than not, anger. Anger with you... Continue Reading →
"It will be fun" he said as he took my hand, encouraging me from the bed. "You won't need to get dressed, just stay as you are." Down the stairs we went, peering through sleepy eyes and feeling the cold blast of fresh morning air as he excitedly bundled me to through door. Camera bag slung... Continue Reading →
The world of social media is a strange one... I opened up my twitter this morning and at the top of my feed was a post under the hashtag #fitbutfat. It's not entirely random, and it's certainly not a self-depricating search. My study has me wading through the muddy waters of social media in an... Continue Reading →
There I was, outside the door that would take me to him. I had dreamt about this moment since he first came into my life, since the first time I was allowed to see him, albeit a photograph. Though the fantasy that I knew would never be brought to reality had been deep-rooted since my... Continue Reading →
Writing is a wonderful way of processing my memories. Sorting them out like strands of spaghetti. And the more wonderfully wicked experiences I enjoy, the longer my writing list seems to become. Hey-ho, it's a hard life.