“45” is what I call POTUS, the 45th president of the United States, that horrid man who squats in the White House tweeting (LYING) about random topics to divert our attention from the fucked up bullshit he does that will, PLEASE GODDESS, get him impeached.
It had been 30 years since I’d been in a relationship with a cis maleuntil last year when my cub (who is 20 years younger than I am) and I began a cyber-relationship. He and I are in a BDSM relationship, my being Domme and he, my submissive.
I am an awesome Domme after 25 years as a submissive. I am able to dig deeply into a submissive’s mind and use the information to my Domme-ly benefit. I am also a Domme at my job, having no problem holding my role easily.
And now, my cublet and I are in a deep rift in the relationship, something I will write about another day, but one we seem to have committed to working on together.
We both had a really hard day yesterday, lots of tears, lots of texts and emails back and forth, some of which continued through the night on my end.
Today, I could not stop crying despite both of us pledging love and working together last night and then sweet words in text this morning. I was a fucking mess. I couldn’t breathe, my heart hurt, I was really having a hard time.
From early morning, I wanted reassurance that everything was okay between us, but I fought hard not to text him at work. I lasted until 1pm, then asked, “Do you still love me?”
After we talked on the phone and exchanged love-confirming texts, I sat back and looked at my feelings and behaviors. I was fucking disgusted with myself.
I am demonstrating total female socialization behaviors and being with a cisman somehow magically transformed me into a whimpering, begging, insecure, needy and, if I do say so, disgusting girl (definitely not a woman) needing validation from a MAN! From a man 20 years my junior, no less! Where the holy fuck was she hiding that she would smell a cisman’s sweat (even over the wires) and poof recreate the horrid female I thought I’d left behind after 35 years of therapy?
I am hoping that with the recognition, I will chill out and re-find my balance as a grown woman.
I am, however, looking for the hole that unevolved being crawled out of so I can shove her back in and seal up the lid.
I was tempted to defend myself (I use PC terms when I can, I am not prejudiced against these folks, etc.), but I am leaving this piece to speak for itself.
Thank Stephen King’s On Writing: A Memoir for the Craft for this vomiting of things I have been too afraid to say out loud. He tells writers to “Be brave!” and write the things that are the most difficult to say.