I have learned that grief is another name for love.

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 for not going to see the doctor sooner, that they couldn’t catch it in time because you wouldn’t tell anyone. You fought it for a number of years, never admitting that you were going to die, even after they said it had spread to your bones, and liver. The time they thought you had a stroke, but it was really rogue cells floating around in your brain.

Your strength has probably inspired me more than I admit.

For many years every time I saw someone whose life you had touched they would say “oh, haven’t you got your father’s eyes.” They always missed out the eyebrows, chin and nose! And what about your stubbornness, dry wit and sense of adventure. Did I get those traits through nature or nurture? You were a stay at home dad until I started school, and even after that I was like your shadow. Saturday mornings in the shop are memories I will always treasure, the touch of felt will always take me back to that time.

Grief is a funny thing though.

Every year in the lead up to your anniversary something makes me feel like my heart has been broken. I never equate the two immediately, but tonight was a quicker realisation than the standard day or two. Maybe I am learning with time. Perhaps next year I will surprise myself with allowing the sadness without needing other hurts to bring it out.

This evening I was driving home from delivering my children. It’s the holidays and I get a rest too.

I was thinking about events from the last week or so. You see, when Sir left again in July I felt a little sad. I knew that I wouldn’t hear from him until at least February, and even if I did I wasn’t sure how that would feel. My need to submit took a sabbatical. I have been exploring this wonderful world of kink in different ways and enjoying myself greatly, but as time wore on my mojo drifted. Recently a few things have happened which have made me realise that, although enjoying the opposite sides of myself, I had actually been hiding my submission. It hadn’t left me, just curled up inside too scared of being exposed and vulnerable. The intensity of my submissive love and the loss thereafter too hard to face again. Grief is not just felt for those who have died.

Driving along I felt my heartbreak all over again, my eyes burning with tears held back too long.

I knew that I needed to run, and once I was safely home I did just that. Not 200m from my front door I realised why. I have come home and spoken to one of my lovely friends (you’d love her, she’s completely mad) and I have talked about you more than I have with anyone in years. I hope you would be proud of the woman I have become, the way I have conducted myself when times have been hard and the way I am raising the two grandsons you will never get to meet. More often than not I need to be strong just like you were, sometimes I need to laugh until my sides aches and occasionally I need a good cry.

Tonight, astonishingly, I have done all three.

I have learned that grief is another name for love was first published on A Leap of Faith.

20th February 2019 14

Fill in the blanks for TMI Tuesday.

It is time to fill in the blanks.

I am hesitant to set my intentions for a new year, but this seems far enough away from the bells to not be resolutions so I’m going to fill in the blanks that TMI Tuesday Blog has left for me.
1. I want to repeat _____ .

Making happy memories with my friends and families.
Electroplay.
Rope with Angel666.
Total submission.
Pure Dominance.
Dartmoor adventures.

2. I want to lose _____ .

My anal virginity again. (it’s grown back!)
Myself on the moors, just overnight… When I’m well prepared with all the appropriate kit.
My heart to someone wonderful, who wants to give me theirs too.
My fears of being hurt, when I feel that I push people away. (which could cause problems with losing my heart to someone wonderful)

3. I want to gain _____ .

Confidence in my running.
More latex!
More tiger stripes.
Some stamps in my passport.

4. I want to enjoy _____ .

The mud. In play…
Wing walking. (2 stone weight loss to go until I can sign up!)
More cake! (May hamper my wing walking time line)
My boys. I usually do, but more happy times please!

5. I want to savor _____ .

More time with my boys. They can be challenging at times, but I think I’m learning more about their needs and quirks.
Sunsets, and sunrises.

6. I need more _____ .

Skin-to-skin contact. (see Q. 2)
Platonic playtime.
Hours in the day!

Bonus: I will succeed in _____ .

My current module.
My marathon.
My book.
Making myself happy.

Click the button to see what everyone else is up to this week.

8th January 2019 2

It’s the childlike mind that finds the kingdom. #29

I have definitely sprinkled more than a few songs I remember from my childhood in these posts, but I have chosen The Bangles – Walk Like an Egyptian for today. It reminds me of walking with my family while busting the moves from the song, not being in the least bit bothered about the people around us. I see a little of me in my youngest, when I watch him strutting his stuff on the school run, dancing to whatever riff he has spinning through his mind at the time.

I love music and am always on the lookout for something new to listen to, so I hope the 30-Day Song Challenge inspires some of you to share.

29th December 2018 0

Christmas TMI Tuesday

1. Are you celebrating or have you celebrated any holidays this December 2018?

For most people who know me, and perhaps if you follow me on here, it is quite clear that I have a tenuous relationship with Christmas. As a mum to two wonderful little boys who love this time of year I do celebrate Christmas. The way that we have celebrated this has changed recently…

2. Describe your typical holiday celebration.

Last year was the first time that I have taken full control of Christmas, while still giving my children the experience that they would like. Christmas eve we spent pottering around, Christmas morning the three of us open gifts and have a nice breakfast. Lunchtime takes us to somewhere wide open with a camping stove and some form of piggy goodness. Last year was Dartmoor for Bacon sandwiches, this year will be the beach for pigs-in-blankets hotdogs. The afternoon sees us cooking a slightly more traditional turkey joint, this time with chips and peas (with extra veg on the side for me) Late boxing day we head up country, towards extended family, when everything and everybody has calmed down a little.

3. Now tell us how you really would like to spend your holiday season.

I wouldn’t change anything. I have the Christmas that I have worked hard to be allowed.

4. This time of year broadcast TV is filled with Christmas movies. What is your favorite Christmas movie?

Die Hard!!!!!

5. Does your place of work do a gift exchange or secret santa? Do you participate? What gift did you buy to giveaway this year? What gift did you get?

It has been many years since I worked somewhere that did a secret santa, but last time I did I knitted a beautiful hat for one of my staff. I was over the moon when she turned up to shift week-in week-out wearing it, not knowing who it had come from.

Bonus: Have you been naughty or nice?

I made it onto Kilted Wookie’s Naughty List so I guess that is my answer!

Pop on over to TMI Tuesday blog to see what other people think about Christmas.

Christmas TMI Tuesday was first published on A Leap of Faith.

25th December 2018 2

Be kind, be genuine, be thankful.

This weeks Food for thought Friday prompt has struck a chord with me.

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.

What are the things in your life that you are most thankful for?

Firstly, and most importantly, I am thankful for my children.

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.

I am thankful for this wonderful corner of the world that I call home.

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’m thankful for those wonderful souls who have become my friends.

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 am also thankful for my ability to love.

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!

See what everyone else is thankful for:

Be kind, be genuine, be thankful was first published on A Leap of Faith.

24th November 2018 4

Tricky TMI Tuesday: 7th August 2018

Tricky questions for this weeks TMI Tuesday. I guess that is the point, and maybe the fun?

1. Is falling in love effortless?

I don’t honestly know if falling in love is effortless. For me love seems to be a series of ways to torture myself. Perhaps the falling in love is effortless, but I have yet to fall in love with someone who can love me back in the way that I deserve? Oooh, tricky….

2. Is your significant other most like your mom or your dad?

My significant other is currently my Doxy… I don’t think either of my parents resemble a sex toy so this one is the least tricky question…

3. Which parent do you identify with most?

Yesterday, while out for lunch with a friend, I was very grumpy because I couldn’t hear the conversation over the music. I may have turned into my dad momentarily when I asked the staff to turn the music down… I remember him being a bit grumpy with the volume of music from the music my brother and I would play in our youth. And I inherited his dry sense of humour and love of food; particularly Liver and Onion, mashed potato, mushy peas and pork pies…

4. What one thing are you lacking that you believe will make your life run smoother?

Currently, focus. I have been struggling with maintaining my focus recently due to a change in routine, the school holidays and now my boys being away for a long spell. My mind has run riot and I have forgotten to take care of the basics which has left me chasing my tail, low on energy and struggling for focus.

5. Which is sexier: constantly pushing the boundaries or playing by the rules?

I am a pleaser, I love having rules and thrive under a nurturing yet demanding Dominant. The sexiest thing for me is being pushed to break through my boundaries. But breaking the rules…no, definitely not sexy for me. Or attractive in any way shape or form.

Bonus: Do you think confessions make a relationship stronger?

I think that openness and honesty makes a relationship stronger. If you are open and honest there is no need for confessions, surely? Unless the confessions are hopes and dreams, fantasies and desires… but again, that goes under the heading of openness and honesty for me.

art beach beautiful clouds — Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Click here to see what everyone else is up to:

Tricky TMI Tuesday: 7th August 2018 was first published on A Leap Of Faith

7th August 2018 0

Christmas – Peace, love and joy?

santa claus wearing boxing gloves — Photo by Ma Boîte A Photos on Pexels.com

Christmas 2016 was not one to be repeated.

On paper it should have been something to look forward to, a time to cherish with my boys. P had told me, in no uncertain terms, that when I ended things with him I had ruined Christmas for him forever. With that in mind I would “need to have the children for the big day.” No big problem, you would think, but he had always made me feel like a failure at Christmas so any joy that I may have brought from my own childhood had been reduced to zero over our marriage. The confidence I had in making it a nice day for the boys was not high. Add to that his desperately sad Facebook post on Christmas day 2015, and my eldest spent the build up to the festivities worrying about his dad.

What about M? He would be around, surely?

The plan was that he would spend Christmas eve with his mum and the day with his dad, who had just lost his wife to cancer. Then he would hot foot it up the coast to spend Christmas night and boxing day with me and the boys. I was always excited to see him, and I knew the boys would wrap him up in festive fun. M was as enthusiastic about Christmas as I was, and when he called me one lunchtime with a strained voice I knew something was up. There was an offer to join a friend of his to deliver a yacht from Portugal to the uk. He didn’t know whether he should go, or if he needed to stay and fulfill his duties as son and boyfriend. I gave him my blessing, genuinely excited by this opportunity. A little jealous perhaps, but genuinely happy for his opportunity. Once he had built up the courage to talk to his family they were all happy for him too.

As the dutiful girlfriend I drove him and his friend to the airport, dropping them in the car park before heading on my way.

One message pinged through before I was 5 miles away:

Thank you for bringing me, and being so wonderfully you. I hope you are not too sad, show me your smile. xxx

To which I responded with a quick selfie, of me trying to smile with wet eyes. I had a few hours to kill so I went on a mini adventure of my own to a nearby seaside town where I could have a cuppa and a walk on the beach. Sitting down to a steaming brew after a long cold walk I opened my phone. First thing was a message:

My beautiful girl. 🙂 Fire alarms, airport evacuated, delayed flight. Off again now. I’ll let you know when I’m safely landed. I love you xxx

Then I tapped my Facebook app as I sipped the cup of brown liquid. M had updated his profile picture. There I was! The picture I had sent him just a couple of hours ago. That put a smile on my face.

Getting home, still smiling and feeling loved, I collected the boys.

They had been with P, for their first Christmas. Hyped up, full of sugar and singing daddy’s praises I got them to bed. Two more days to the big day and they were only going to get more excitable, as children do! By Christmas eve I was feeling overwhelmed. Getting them to bed on the night before christmas was such a challenge. Then I had to organise the presents and by the time midnight slipped past I was in floods of tears. Dreading the noise and excitement of the following day, missing M, just wanting a cuddle… And to top it all off I had burnt my red cabbage trying to get ahead of the game! A game I didn’t want to play, but that I felt it was expected of me.

Surrounded by wrapping paper and piles of gifts my phone suddenly began to ring.

Through the tears and the snot I answered the phone. He was just pulling in to harbour where the two of them would be resting and collecting the third sailor for the long stretch home. He missed me and wanted to say hello as he knew how hard I would be finding the preparations. We chatted about the boat and his crew mate as well as how his journey was going so far. With his voice in my heart I slept well and woke to the excited voices of two little boys who had received a visit from father Christmas.

The day was as difficult as I had expected.

Excited children and my grumpy mum. My home filled up with my brother and his family mid-afternoon, just when all I wanted was to shut the doors and regain some calm again. More food, more gifts, more excited children. And one more phone call from M, who had spent the day trying to cook a roast dinner as they sailed across the bay of Biscay. Now they were all sat on the deck eating together, and he was in range of masts so could talk to me and the boys. Somehow that grounded me enough to get through the rest of the day until, with the boys in bed and the dishes done I was able to sit down quietly and chill out. Stretching out on the sofa I flicked on the Christmas news and saw that George Michael had died. This was all the encouragement I needed to let out the tears which I had been holding back all day.

Surely the next year would be better?

Christmas – Peace, love and joy? was originally posted on A Leap of Faith.

19th July 2018 0

TMI Tuesday: 12th June 2018

Ice-Cream-Maker-Luxury-Vanilla-Ice-Cream (2)

1. If you were an ice-cream flavor, what would you be and why?

I would be lemon meringue. I may present as vanilla, but I am far from it, and that is a wonderful surprise. When you first take the lid off the tub it looks very ordinary, but take a scoop and you start to see the swirls of lemon. Taste me, those yellow streaks are a little bit tart alongside the smooth creamy ice-cream. And then there is the hidden texture of meringue.

2. What are the best sexy skills you bring to a sexual relationship?

I am adventurous, unshockable and love to push myself to try new things and perfect old things.

3. What is the single largest problem causing you angst in your romantic relationship (current or most recent relationship)?

I don’t know that there is angst in my life at the moment. I guess I have to say the tasks I am set where I have to decide what to do “to please him” make me feel most anxious.

4. What is the best part about being in a relationship with you?

ME!

5. What is the biggest misconception that people have about you?

Still waters run deep with me, and the vanilla mask that is visible to the world is not the real me. I am usually seen as sweet and innocent, even among the local kink community. But once people become trusted they see that I am very much the opposite. One friend has just fallen off her chair at the thought of how family see me… but she has been on the receiving end of my sadistic giggle.

I have just been reminded that people sometimes see me as weak. Until recently I believed that too, and yet it couldn’t be further from the truth. Again, still waters run deep, and that strength isn’t on display for all to see, but it is there!

Bonus: When you look at old photos of yourself, do you like what you see?

I enjoy looking at me through the times of my life. Some pictures I enjoy more than others, but I love reflecting on my life and pictures help with that. When I look at these pictures (below) what is not to like?

12th June 2018 12

Then it hits you so much harder than you thought it would.

two brown and blue ceramic mugs — Photo by rawpixel.com on Pexels.com

M and I soon settled into a routine of spending the weekends together and an occasional weeknight.

With my children home much of the time and living an hours drive apart our time in each others company was somewhat limited. M had met the boys before, and they thought he was wonderful. On the weekends they were home he would come up on the saturday night and spend the sunday with us, the boys really enjoyed his company too and he was very fond of them and their characters. He didn’t have his own children, and he never tried to behave like a dad to them, but he was a positive male role model for them at a time when that was lacking from their dad, P. I also really appreciated his support when times were challenging with the boys. Someone who knew them but wasn’t directly involved, and wouldn’t tell me that I was doing it all wrong or laugh at me when I found it hard.

And things were very hard at times.

My eldest was waiting for an appointment with the autism diagnosis team. He has always been a wonderful little boy but I had known something was a little bit different from a very early age. Some of his behaviours were particularly difficult to manage, and without a diagnosis support is incredibly hard to come by. Add to that P had convinced my family that I was imagining things and there was no reason for anybody to pay attention to what I was saying. So having those strong arms to wrap me up when the job of being mum was almost overwhelming was just what I needed.

As lovers first, friends second and significant others third there was a strong bond in place already.

As two quiet souls we enjoyed companionable silence, we also enjoyed heated debate and decent conversations. Cooking meals for each other became almost a competition, we quickly discovered that our book shelves contained some of the same recipe books so would try to better the last offering. Aside form prawns and olives we had very similar taste so it was always going to be a treat whoever cooked. As a single mum with two fussy children I had rarely had the time or inclination to cook a decadent meal for myself, and as a bachelor M had little motivation either. How things changed, along with our waistlines… It was a comfortable situation to be in, but our trousers did not offer the same comfort.

Kink wise I stepped away from the community I had started to engage with.

Not because he asked me to, on the contrary he was very supportive of me getting to munches and events. The problem came with my mindset. I did not get a large amount of child-free time, and it was certainly never something I could plan aside from the occasional weekend. I was also not used to being in a close relationship where I had freedom, where it was taken as given that I had strength and confidence. Yes, I had been owned by sir for almost 2 years, but our dynamic was not one of comfortable silences and gentle walks in the countryside; he had trained me to please him, and empowered me to start becoming a Strong Confident Woman. My brain did not compute and everything was very intense. I can see now the difference between love and attachment but at that point M and I were drowning in each other.

When the opportunities arose to spend time with M, my safe space, I jumped at them.

I was coming to the end of my counselling when we got together, but I had no idea how fragile I still was, how little of my marriage I had worked through, and how angry I was with the world around me. How angry I was with myself… All of these feelings were too raw, too big and too scary to deal with, and my friend and lover M gave me hope that the world wasn’t totally dark. At this point I believed that sir had convinced myself that sir had just wanted to get rid of me because I was a rubbish sub, I knew (without a doubt) that the problems within my marriage were my fault, and that when my children acted up it was a direct reflection of my parenting.

What a weight to be placed on one man’s shoulders?!

Particularly when he had never asked for that responsibility. He had suggested we become monogamous, he loved me as fiercely as I loved him, but it must have been hard going for him. I struggled to believe that he meant what he said, that he was actually enjoying our time together. To the world I was doing well, embracing life and moving forward, but wrapped up in the deep dark embrace of depression my world began to shrink again.

M was my bright star of hope in an otherwise dark sky.

night stars sky — Photo by Free Nature Stock on Pexels.com

24th May 2018 1

Tag: family