Hearts and flowers for TMI Tuesday

Photo Credit: Dark Lion Photography

1. What are your romantic needs?

My romantic needs are minimal in all honesty. For the most part I get what could be seen as traditional romance from my friends. I miss having someone to cook with, but I have wonderful friends who will happily come round for dinner. Having someone to confide in, to share my joys and sadness, my friends are wonderful for filling that void (if you can call it that?) It could be made a little better if I had naked hugs in bed, and those confidences were in the form of pillow talk, chest hair tickling my nose while wrapped in strong arms. Companionable silences while each enjoying our own reading is something I miss. Conventional romance…. Flowers, if I want some I buy my own. Lingerie, again I buy my own. Chocolates, yes, you guessed it, I buy my own. (Actually, I buy myself nice cheeses instead of chocolates but you get my point)

2. What are your sexual needs?

Sexually I wax and wane with regards to my needs. I’m very skilled at managing my own physical requirements for orgasm, however what I am unable to replicate is the scent and touch of a man. I have friends who would happily be the man to stave off those cravings but I would rather wait until the dynamic is right for me too. My sexuality is mainly submissive, and with a man who can get inside my head the slut comes out to play, if that is what he also likes.

3. Do you agree that marriage was a pragmatic institution and in today’s society traditional marriage is not a need but merely a want?

For some people marriage is very much a need, a place of emotional security and a celebration of love between two families. The married couples tax allowance is also available for couples in a civil partnership, and with a maximum of £238 per year available you would be waiting a long time to recoup your wedding costs via this scheme. Apologies for my cynicism…. Having just celebrated my first Divorce-versary you may be surprised to learn that I would consider marriage in the future, but it would be choice rather than necessity which would lead me to that outcome.

4. Do you find conflict in your romantic relationships exciting?

The definition of conflict is “a serious disagreement or argument”. I do not find this kind of relationship exciting, whether romantic or platonic. That isn’t to say I want to be in constant agreement with those around me, I like healthy debate and differing opinions. This leads to interesting and challenging conversations and often I learn something.

5. During sex are you focused on positions or the quality and connection with your lover?

Quality and connection! I’ve had lovers want to go through a whole list of positions, turning it into some form of prescribed porno. Often the best moves are the least attractive. Saying that there are certain positions that I love to be in, that really get me going. And there are some that flick the off switch. Having the connection means that the lines of communication are open, that those “off” spots can be discussed in advance and avoided, or, if the passion is burning high then those scenarios are short circuited. Either outcome is a win for me.

Bonus: Men, what do you have a hard time talking to your lover(s) about?

Ok, so I’m not a man but I’m going to break the rules a little… Getting my lovers to open up about their feelings is something I struggle with. Something I have learnt over recent months is that there is strength in showing your emotional vulnerability. People who love us can’t support us if we keep it locked away. Personally I think that sharing emotions is a really intimate thing, more so than sex, and while I value a strong Dominant man I like it when they let me into their dark. Trust,strength and soft edges.

February Photofest


TMI Tuesday blog

Every mile will be worth my while.

Every mile makes me a better version of me.

1. How do you spend most of your time?

I’m a mum, first and foremost. Those lovely children of mine fill my heart and mind with tasks and chores. I’m also studying, though that probably doesn’t take up as much of my time as it should. Aside from these two I spend the most part of my life running. Outdoors and under the big sky, more often than not calf deep in mud!

2. Is this where you thought you would end up?

When I married my ex husband I believed that he was who I would be with forever. I was happy to ignore my kinks and lead a “normal” life. I didn’t expect that I would have got it so horribly wrong in my choice of life partner. I also didn’t expect to find myself a mum, let alone a single one. But this is the path my life has taken and I am so much happier. I also have goals and plans to achieve them. A marathon, for example, has been a long-held goal. Only now do I have the confidence to achieve that!

3. What would you do differently if given the opportunity?

Aside from wishing that I had found an osteopath sooner, as mentioned here, I couldn’t go back and change anything. Why would I want to? I may not have enjoyed every mile of my journey, but the scenery has at least been varied. There are parts of my life which have been unpleasant and challenging, but they have made me understand my strengths. My life now is wonderful. Not without challenges, but I am free to be me.

And I’m ok!

4. How do you encourage creativity in the bedroom?

I am an open book, people just need to ask me the right questions. Lovers tend to trust me before we get to the bedroom. I find that this trust, along with being open and non-judgemental are all the encouragement creativity needs.

5. Tell us something about yourself that might surprise us.

For all of the smut I read and porn I watch you may be surprised to find out that the most erotic moment in print that I have found is Gone With The Wind” when Scarlet O’Hara and Rhett Butler kiss for the first time. I still get goose-bumps thinking about that.

Bonus: Sexually, who has influenced you the most?

In an odd way probably my mother. I love my mum very much, but her attitude to sex is very traditional. My Aunty is a serial monogamist and my mum does not approve. I don’t think for a moment that she would approve of my lifestyle either!! However, aside from this she has always accepted me. She has always encouraged me to be the best I can be, and she has shown me that I should follow my dreams. As my sexuality blossomed I didn’t ever think of sex in the traditional sense. Seeking out experiences, learning and pushing myself in ways that I wanted to explore.

TMI Tuesday blog
February Photofest

TMI Tuesday: 3rd July 2018

silhouette of man touching woman against sunset sky
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

1. Picture the child you once were, what did that child do very well?

When I was a little girl I always had a talent for pushing myself further than people expected me to. Second best was never an option, particularly against myself. Grit and determination. I lost that somewhere along the line.

2. What are you really good at now?

I’m now really good at problem solving. Forget thinking outside of the box, I no longer have a box! And I have rediscovered that ability to push myself further than people believe, and I know that anything is possible.

3. Did you ever expect love in return and not get it?

I have known men that I have thought I loved and that they loved me in return when, quite clearly they haven’t. It is only very recently that I have come to understand what love really is, and I have given that without expectation. I have seen this clip many times, but never really understood it.  Free, pure and unconditional. Is it returned? Actions always speak louder than words… I believe so. But in many ways it doesn’t matter if it is not reciprocated. I have enough self-love to be able to give some out without needing to hear those words.

4. Who do you need to get in touch with because it has been so long?

What funny timing??!! Today I have spoken with one of my favourite friends that I haven’t been in contact with since Christmas. And she is the last person who I need to “get in touch with because it has been too long.” I am so glad I sent her a message, she is going to help me with a task…

5. What are your thoughts on this: “Every woman deserves her special day. I get that. But does it really have to cost so much fucking money? I mean, c’mon. If you’re serious about building a future with a guy, why bankrupt him?”

Pfffft!!! I don’t understand why weddings cost so much in both finances and energy. My wedding cost £600, which is only £50 more than my divorce! Rough calculations…. 14.5 years of marriage = £1.54 per week for costs… In other words I have no idea why it costs so much money. No relationship is defined by ONE DAY, it is all about the picture you paint rather than the cost of the canvas you paint it on!

Bonus: What is your number one priority?

Right now my number one priority is building a happy life for me and my beautiful children. It hasn’t been plain sailing, but so far 2018 has given me an insight into what that can look like and, more importantly, how I can achieve that.

Click below to see what other people are up to, and to join in:

TMI Tuesday blog

TMI Tuesday: 3rd July 2018 was first posted on A Leap Of Faith.

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


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.


What you allow is what will continue

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The seeds of self-worth had been planted. Sir was the cloche around them, and P was my frost.

As I continued on my journey with sir my confidence and self-esteem began to grow. I became more assertive at home, and began to stand my ground when the mocking was going on. I would ask P not to say or do certain things as I didn’t like them. He would just laugh it off, making out that it was just a joke, but before long the same “joke” would resurface. And there were lots of them to rotate through.

I started to hold my head up high, almost becoming immune to his taunts.

They still hurt but his grip on me was lessening. As I grew stronger and more confident he had to find new ways to hurt me. His bullying of the children and calling them names certainly affected me, but knowing what to do was outside of my understanding, I was no expert in these things. Plus, I had convinced myself that I would be overreacting because of my extra marital activities. How wrong I was!!

I was starting to wake up from the fog of abuse, though at the time I didn’t realise. 

When I first met Sir a condition from him was that our relationship wouldn’t have a direct impact on my marriage. Talking through the problems with him again at this point I was able to genuinely show him (and prove to myself) that I was sticking with my side of the deal. I had grown in confidence as a direct result of my time with him, but I was beginning to see things more clearly and realise that I was worth more, that the boys were suffering too. I had just about reached the end of what I could tolerate. He had a week away with work, I hoped that this would see a change in his behaviour when he got back. Time apart hopefully being a magic solution which would fix our 11 year marriage. Sadly my expectations were not met, and when he returned his demeanour had soured further. Perhaps it was the smile on my face, or the fact that our home hadn’t fallen apart in his absence, but when he came back his anger reached new levels. He would call our eldest son names, and treat him like dirt, between telling him that he was his favourite son.

The night before my birthday I told P I didn’t love him anymore. 

It had been an OK day. I had driven us over to the in-laws house, and on the way home had taken him to the supermarket to buy my birthday present. When we got there he told me he didn’t have his wallet and suggested I go in to choose and pay for my gift while I got something for dinner. And I could take the boys into the shop, he would wait in the car. When we got home he was mean to the boys, and so I did bedtime. Then I went to cook dinner while he watched a film, played a game and chatted to all of his friends on messenger and text… He came out to the kitchen to see what was happening with dinner and it just came out. I don’t love you anymore. In all honesty I had stopped loving him a long time before, even before meeting sir, but I had stopped being able to pretend that things could carry on as they were.

He refused to accept this piece of news.

As was often the way he tried to tell me

  • I was overreacting.
  • I didn’t know my own mind.
  • The boys didn’t deserve a broken home.
  • I was being selfish.
  • I was ruining his life.

Was he right? Was I making a mountain out of a molehill? I didn’t think so but after almost 12 years of negative conditioning (I have had counselling, I can see that now) I was confused. Three weeks later he became physically abusive to my youngest, just a year old. His grip on me was lessening, and so the least able to defend himself got the brunt of it…Three kicks in the face, a year old and assaulted by his father.

The anger I felt was like a cold white heat, unrecognisable from anything I had ever felt before.

It was well outside of my skill set, managing this. Hindsight tells me I should have called the police, had him removed, but my mind went into shock and I had no idea what to do next. The feelings of anger were awful, but the look on his face was worse. I didn’t know what to do or where to turn, who to ask for help. P had systematically isolated me from friends and family and I didn’t think it was fair to lump all of this on Sir (I told him the bare bones but it was my vanilla marriage and I didn’t think he was responsible for that) I spoke to my manager the following week. She suggested that he was trying to antagonise me, and that makes perfect sense….now…over 3 years later, with a healed mind and a fresh perspective, but at the time it was dark, too dark.

It took a further 8 months to get him to leave.

During this time I went to marriage counselling with him where he played the victim, I had my Facebook and main email accounts hacked (fortunately sir was on a new account) and when he finally agreed to sell the house he dug up half the lawn before the first viewing. I heard of a flat coming onto the rental market so I took him to view it, then I drove him to the estate agents to pick up the forms, helped him fill them in and drove him back with them. When he had the go ahead I helped him pack, hired a van and moved him out. The first night he had gone he asked to come back and sleep over, but that was a NO from me. I had my life back.

It wasn’t going to be smooth sailing but it was on my terms now.


Goodbye to the sun that shines for me no longer

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There comes a time when we have to admit that things aren’t working.

I first reached this point within 6 months of starting university. The work was easy enough but it wasn’t what I wanted to do, and I was still as alone with my kinks as I always had been. Just now there were more people to be different to, the crowd was bigger and my loneliness was stronger. I cut and ran, moved back home with my mum, got a job and started a college course.  College was great, I was the only girl with 14 guys. I was in my element, ever the tomboy I enjoyed weekends teaching some to kitesurf, spent evenings with the “pig boys” smoking weed and playing mario-kart. Oh and we studied hard together. This all changed in the new year. I had turned 20, and work was busy. I was invited to a leaving do for a girl who worked in a pub across the square to my restaurant. I hung my coat, found the bar and looked around for a familiar face. There was P, further down, looking at me with a wonky smile. He had a beer in one hand and a whisky glass raised in the other. The night that followed involved me winning lots of drinking games, dancing with acquaintances and ending up in his room watching some movie that I can’t recall. He and I fell into the routine of sex, smokes and a takeaway. Two weeks later he texted me from his toilet “I love you”. My reply from his bed “thank you”

This is my chance for a normal life

I had been trying to switch off the urges for kink, and had been open with P about my past. He accepted me the way I was, better yet he loved me after just two weeks. Four weeks later he said “wouldn’t it be funny if we told everyone we got engaged” I laughed along, it was funny! Then we decided to get married in the march, a mere six weeks after that. My mum pointed out how fickle I had been in the past and urged us to wait until the autumn. Over the next six months I was discouraged from spending time outside of college with my friends, the pig boys, unless P was with me. And he always wanted to come with me out on the boat when I went wakeboarding. My circle grew smaller, and with it my confidence. But it was ok, because he loved me.

I cried all of the way to my wedding

Was it just nerves? Was it a sense of impending doom? Was it even excitement, as I told my bridesmaid, mum and brother? I couldn’t tell you. We moved shortly after the wedding, my new friends were his old friends. We moved again six months later, back to the town we had got married in, spending time with his friends, my new social circle. This was normal, surely? The normal that I thought I needed anyway. And when he started to drop the word “slut” into conversation or question my promiscuous past I began to believe that I wasn’t to be trusted, and shut myself away. When he was working 9am to midnight, six days a week, I reconnected with some wakeboarding friends. I spent many happy evenings with the boat boys, but he could not understand that it was platonic and accused me of messing around while out on the boat with them. Not long after I started seeing them again he suggested we try for a baby, it is only recently I have begun to question his motives in asking… We had been married four and a half years when our eldest son arrived. My world shrunk, my confidence all but vanished. Every waking moment was spent looking after the baby and P. By the time baby number two arrived, 5.5 years later, I wasn’t me anymore.

I wasn’t even a shadow of my former self, I was nothing. 

I had become conditioned to accept the way he spoke about me and to me. I took up running, it was a great way to get some time to myself and do something just for me, but when I got home he would sniff me, accuse me of having sex with other men rather than running, which explained why I was always flushed when I got home. The way he treated me in front of our children was awful too, and if I had seen someone else being treated like that I would have been appalled, but he loved me so this must just be what I deserved. Even when he raped me, with six-week old son #2 asleep on my chest—He hasn’t slept since he was born, you make a fuss you’ll wake him up, and who knows when he will go back to sleep—I took it, because that was what I deserved, and he loved me, if only I could be a better wife.

Desperately unhappy I wondered if I should try to get some of my old self back. I remember one occasion, asking if I could give him a blow job in the dark and secluded garden. He laughed in my face for two whole hours, calling me a freak and saying that I was weird. Not a week later he grabbed me by the hair, mashing my face into the kitchen cupboard and pulling down my trousers he started to spank me, hard.

This is what you want, is it?

No, stop it, please stop.

He did, eventually, and I left the room in tears. I think I knew then that I would only ever be able to stay for the boys. And as his behaviour deteriorated further I began to gain a little strength. With his moods came name calling and the start of emotional abuse to the boys. Something in me started to wake up, and things were in motion; this was not ok!!

As Sophocles said, it was time to say goodbye to the sun that shines for me no longer.

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