It’s fun doing new things: TMI Tuesday 31st July 2018

New shoesNew things are exciting and scary. July has been a mixed bag for me, but it definitely feels like a very positive month. This last TMI Tuesday of July has given me the chance to reflect.

Tell it to us straight or sexy…

1. One thing that you will never do again?

I will never clean a dirty rolling-pin again.

2. Who knows you the best?

I would say either B or Cornish Chick. They are two of the worlds most wonderful women and I am so pleased they found their way onto my life. My first two give-and-take friendships too, a learning curve for all of us I believe.

3. Do you think a relationship should be 50/50 all the time?

No relationship can be 50/50 all of the time. Whether that is friends, family, play partners and lovers, needs fluctuate. Overall I think there should be a balance of give and take, or it stops being healthy, but as I have learnt with the two lovely ladies I mentioned above (and many more wonderful people) you can ask for love and support as well as give it.

4. When was your most recent act of kindness? Was it appreciated?

On saturday I was in a race (my first ever trail event). The water station was absent for some reason and I had gone prepared with a bottle of drink…just in case. There was a lady who was struggling so I let her have some of my drink. She was very grateful.

5. Are you a good friend? Why or why not?

I hope I am a good friend. I certainly try. Though this is very much an ongoing lesson for me as most of my adult life I wasn’t allowed to have friendships of my own choosing and the ones that were permitted were P’s friends first and foremost, so I was mainly isolated.

6. What is something that you tried really hard to like but just couldn’t?

PRAWNS!!!! These are very much a hard limit. The taste, the texture, the smell, the way they wriggle around in the bowl, they way they look. Definitely enjoy watching them in the sea and in rockpools, but as soon as they are for human consumption… This was particularly difficult when I was a manager of counters in a supermarket. The fish counter was my favourite one to cover, but whenever I had to serve prawns I’m sure I would turn a delightful shade of GREEN.

Bonus: How was your month of July? Did you do anything fun, interesting, new?

July has been a great month for trying new things. Starting the month with a broken cane and a sad goodbye I haven’t played this month. I was very excited to be asked to take part in an interview by Posy Churchgate for her weekly “share our shizzle.” The children and end of term stuff has kept me busy, which is no surprise. I was able to start taking my boys climbing, but as I went to look round the climbing place and the owner asked if I would be joining them I heard Ps words slip out of my mouth “I’m not strong enough for climbing…”. Instantly I stopped myself and finished the sentence “…so I’ll give it a go!” This alone shows how far I have come in my confidence, and after almost 18 months of counselling I have decided to call it a day. My counsellor told me that my enthusiasm for life is infectious. And then I have completed my first trail event, and as I went along alone I had the pleasure of meeting a number of new people over a cup of tea afterwards. Of course coffee and cake were required after that…so I headed for the nearest town and found a new coffee shop. There have been so many new things this month, from shoes to toys, through to new events and experiences.

This is something I love about my new life.

I have the determination to experience new things, the confidence to get out on my own and some wonderful friends to tell all about it afterwards.

New coffee shop

TMI Tuesday blog

 

It’s fun doing new things: TMI Tuesday 31st July 2018 was originally posted on A leap of faith.

Trust is earned in drops and lost in buckets.

access adult blur business
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Over the months M and I enjoyed many comfortable times in our relationship.

I have always cherished companionable silence and healthy debate, both of which had been sorely missed with P. M and I enjoyed each others company in so many ways when we were together, and when we were apart things were fine. I had my boys, work, study and M had his work and regular AA meetings. We would usually chat every evening once the boys were in bed, with the odd text exchange during the day. This worked really well, and we were both happy with the level of contact. It worked for us.

But there were times when he would go off grid.

Just for an evening or so, not answering our prearranged call, and then being rude and grumpy with me the next time we spoke. He would say that he felt claustrophobic and needed some time to himself. I felt awful that I had made him feel like that, stepped back a little and gave him the space he needed, but then he would be back in the same routine of contact. My head would swim at the change in his moods, but walking on eggshells was something that I had learnt was normal in relationships. P had shown me that, and as we had been together for most of my adult life I had no other point of reference. The thing was though, that when he was absent unexpectedly my head would go into a spin. I would imagine all sorts of situations and realised that I didn’t trust him. When I asked him what he had been up to the last evening he would get cross and say he had “just been for a walk” or he had “gone to an extra meeting.” All perfectly reasonable, and I tried so hard to not listen to my gut instinct.

He was patient with me, suggested we try counselling.

So we went. We sat in the room with a lovely lady who asked questions. I answered more, he was a closed book, but he pointed out that I was the one who didn’t trust him so it was probably working just right. That smooth smile of his, those kind dark brown eyes… This was my fault, the stress in our relationship. Why wouldn’t it be? Everything always was! That was another lesson from P. We kept going and, alongside my own solo counselling I started to get a better image in my head of what I needed out of life and our relationship.

During this time I had been planning a move to Devon.

It would take me closer to M, but that was just the icing on the cake as far as my life was concerned. Devon had become a safe space for me, I had discovered that Dartmoor had a healing effect on my soul. My study was also progressing well, and I had planned on either going to Plymouth university, where the department had an excellent reputation with high quality graduates in my chosen field, or continuing with the Open University. I could transfer with work, and make the study decision later on, but with P taking his parenting role with a pinch of salt it was the deciding factor.

M actively encouraged my decision, making plans and suggestions.

He even came to look at houses with me, talking through the benefits of the areas and why he liked them. As time went on he even began talking about our long-term future together, moving in together, holidays with the children. All interspersed with the occasional disappearance. I convinced myself that I must be imagining things, that I didn’t trust him because of my past. That my belief that I wasn’t good enough made me think he would leave me eventually, and that as I started to like myself more I would trust that he wasn’t the scoundrel or heart breaker that his relationship history indicated he would eventually become.

We all change and grow, and as I was learning about myself so was he, through his recovery from alcoholism.

His lack of interest in me sexually must have been due to the lack of trust I had in him. I didn’t constantly show him my fears and worries. No, I kept them for private moments when my mind would run round in circles. After all, I really should trust him; he was the one who had asked for a monogamous relationship, he knew my interest in sexual freedom and how I had been non-monogamous with Sir.

But that was different.

And this relationship was mainly vanilla.

And vanilla does not cater for people like me.

My square peg in this round hole of a relationship was what was causing my anxiety.

Obviously…

So I would need to change…

File down those edges.

Again!

Never underestimate how tiring it is trying to fit in with what you believe others expect of you.

adult alone anxious black and white
Photo by Kat Jayne on Pexels.com

I’m not afraid of storms for I am learning to sail my ship

pexels-photo-1047346.jpeg

I was looking at the world through a new pair of eyes.

Having spent much of the last two years under the watchful gaze of Sir it was strange to see the whole kinky world opening up before me in a new way. He had helped me to see the person that I was in a positive light, a way that I was unable to during my marriage. I had begun to accept that my kinks and fantasies were safe to explore, as long as I didn’t cause any harm or upset to others. I had also had enough time to get up to mischief that I had identified risks, and as a parting gift from Sir he had given me a whole range of safety guidelines so that I was in a better position to get home safely after meeting new people.

With my restrictions lifted I was free to do as I pleased.

When sir had disappeared, due to his accident, I was unsure whether I was being tested or had been dropped like a hot potato. It was a distressing and confusing time. Coupled with the total collapse of my marriage I had no idea whether I was coming or going, and went into a spiral of self-destruction and didn’t pay much heed to my safety or who I was meeting. This time I knew that he wanted me safe and that he would be back in contact at some point. If he didn’t care even a little bit he wouldn’t have left guidelines or asked if I would like him to be in touch again; funny how it took him leaving for me to realise that he thought of me as more than just a plaything.

That realisation gave me confidence that I had been struggling with.

My confidence had been battered over the years that I was married, and over the time since I had moved my P out his behaviour had been causing a dripping tap effect. He had systematically isolated me during our marriage, except for permitted friends and family, and after I moved him out he spread all sorts of lies and nonsense to those people. I was left with no friends, bar the ones I had been making through kink, and my family put distance between us. They would say they were there for me but, it wasn’t until I discovered what stories had been made up about me that I was able to start rebuilding those family bonds. After I had approached the health visiting team and then social services over concerns for my children I had been put on the waiting list for talking therapy, to help me build up my self worth once more.

Just before sir left I had been given a date to meet a lady called Rachel.

The woman who greeted me in the waiting room was kind and accepting, but more than that…. she had an air of dominance about her; I’m not sure if it was her dress, posture or mannerisms but I felt really at ease with her.Whether she was a fellow kinkster or not, during my 18 sessions with her I felt safe to talk to her about all levels of my life, without fear of repercussions. In that little room I cried and laughed, talked and clammed up. She encouraged me to think about my life as a bowl of spaghetti, and her job was to help me straighten out the strands. All she would do is ask me questions, and I would spew the contents of my brain out. It was with her I named the relationship I had with P as abusive. I had always thought of myself as a bright woman, and didn’t understand how I could have been so stupid, so blind!

I started to learn that I was a good mum, and that I could manage life in general.

My time in that room with the incredible Rachel gave me a way of translating the strength I had found with sir in my kink life into a vanilla resilience I had never known as an adult. I learnt about my past, discovered things that made me tick at the time and planned next steps for weekly goals and longer term plans. At times I was scared of the changes I made, but for the most part I was excited to continue growing as a woman and learning to sail my own ship in my own way.

pexels-photo-366705.jpeg

Proudly powered by WordPress | Theme: Baskerville 2 by Anders Noren.

Up ↑