After All This Time? Always.

•January 6, 2015 • Leave a Comment

Dear Daddy (because you will always be my Daddy),

I hope you never read this. But that’s not entirely true. Part of me does hope you see this. Part of me wants you to feel my pain and truly see me for who I am.

We hadn’t spoken more than a few words via text in over a year when I got that message from you on Christmas Day. Your mom died that morning. And then, as I tried to comfort and console you, it came out that you and were partner were having a rough time. It didn’t dawn on me until later that had you and your partner been in a good place, you never would have stepped back into my life.

Me, being me, jumped right into my “taking care of you” mode. Especially once your relationship ended shortly after the death of your mother. I checked in with you daily. I made sure you were alive. I distracted you. And then, a week later, I came to visit you. I knew – knew – that it was going to be a hard day for me. I just didn’t realize how hard it would hit me.

Helping the love of my life get over the love of his life is… well, let’s just say it’s not easy. And yes. You are absolutely the love of my life.

But I went to see you anyway. I didn’t want you to be alone. I was honestly afraid you were going to hurt yourself. And I have to take care of you.

That day, as I sat there and listened to you go over both the highlights and low points of your relationship, I had to work very hard to hide the emotions I was feeling. I was there to be your friend. I was not there to try and win you back. I was there for you. I repeatedly told you not to worry about me. But inside I was screaming.

I realized that your relationship was a mirror of the one you and I had shared. Only this time, you were me. I have never seen you so wrecked. I kept telling you that it would get better over time. Because I have very intimately experienced what you are experiencing now. The uncertainty. The questions. The lack of closure. All mixed up with the love of your life. I know that one day you will smile again. One day you won’t cry. It may take months. And it will probably take years before you stop thinking of her every day. But if you’re lucky, she’ll give you the clean break that I never got from you. If you’re lucky, you won’t have two years of being strung along, retaining hope, before the rug is suddenly pulled out from under you and everything is over.

And if you’re lucky, you’ll never have to hear the love of your life detailing her love, including the months leading up to meeting him, when she was supposed to be building a relationship with you.

That’s what you did to me that day. I learned of other women you were pursuing and dating during a time period you were supposed to be with me. During a time we were supposed to be building honesty, trust, and communication. I think you forgot about that, or you wouldn’t have told me.

I think you forgot how things ended between us.

And I think you knew exactly how I would react when you reached out to me when you needed someone. It’s happened again and again. I am always there to pick up the pieces (this makes three). And yet, you never see me. You never want me. You never love me.

I think that I need to stop. I love you. Enough that I honestly believe I’ll never love another man.

But I am more than just the woman who always takes care of you while no one ever takes care of me.

I need someone to take care of me too. And I am accepting that it will never be you. It hurts. And I’ll always think of you. I’ll always want you.

But I want me more.


your little one


Moving On

•July 25, 2014 • 1 Comment

It’s been two years and seven months since my Daddy broke up with me.

It’s been one year since we stopped talking completely and all hope was lost.

I’ve been stuck in a world of not trusting, hurt, and rejection since.

It’s been two years and seven months, and I still think about him every day.

I’ve learned a lot about myself in that time:

  • I’m not worthless.
  • I matter.
  • I am not defined by any man, even one I wholly gave myself to.

I’m still not sure I’m ready to move on. I want to. Oh man, do I want to. I miss being touched. I miss having someone to take care of. I miss being someone’s little one. I long to hear the words “good girl” again. I miss having someone to please.

But the truth of the matter is, I’m terrified. He was my first true Dom, where I was completely all in and willing to do anything asked of me.

When that bond is broken, you don’t come out of it unscathed. I’m not sure I can do it again.

I’m scared to try.

But I can never have what I want if I don’t try.

I am More

•August 9, 2011 • Leave a Comment

I am more than the person who takes care of you when you’re sick.

I am more than the person who makes you food.

I am more than the person who buys you things.

I am more than the person who loans you my car when you need it.

I am more than the person who gives you really good head.

Why can’t you see that?


•July 30, 2011 • 2 Comments

This is the safest place to write this, since no one reads this anymore.

I am not okay.

My head is going somewhere very dark, and it scares me.

I feel as if I am going to explode from emotion, and only someone who cares about me can stop it. Only, there is no one.

I am alone.

Being Wholly Honest

•July 18, 2011 • 1 Comment

It’s been a very long time since I’ve written here. After the events that prompted my last post, I withdrew from seeking a D/s relationship and stopped every kink-related thing in my life (like my Tumblr).

A few months ago, an old friend and I tentatively began seeing each other and exploring D/s together. He and I have been online friends for 5 years or so, but he was married for most of that time. We met in person for the first time last September, but I chickened out of seeing him again until just a few months ago.

Since that time, we’ve gotten very close. I’ve spent many weekends at his place, and we’ve had some really amazing times together.

But now, we’re at a crossroads, and we’re trying to figure out where we fit in each others’ lives. We talked a few weeks ago about how we understand that we’re not on the same page with what we want, but that we would keep working at moving towards one another.

Unfortunately, I fear we’ve moved apart.

I’m writing this here instead of telling him because all I’m really doing is expanding on what I’ve already told him. I need to get it out, but by telling him more of the same, I fear I will push him away as if I’m nagging. And that’s definitely not what I want at all.

You see, I’ve fallen in love with him. I’ve been giving him pieces of myself for years and now that I finally get to be with him, to feel his arms around me, his hands on me, his voice commanding me… it’s what I want. I am his. Completely. Even when I have to hold myself back to make some moderate effort of guarding my heart, there’s really nothing left to hold back inside.

There are two primary points of contention between us. The first, and most important to me, is that I know what I want and he is unsure. I’ve laid my soul bare for him, short of flat out telling him I’m in love with him. I’ve told him I want to be his primary relationship, that I want his heart, that I want to be the one who gets under his skin. He hasn’t told me what he wants in return. All I know is that he doesn’t want to ruin our friendship, and he’s afraid a “real” relationship between us, if soured, will ruin it. He doesn’t seem to believe in the same sort of love that I do – but he’s so sparse with sharing his feelings, that I don’t know what sorts of things he feels at all.

The second is that he flat out refuses to be monogamous. We all know I’ve had many issues with polyamory in the past, yet I think he’s worth it to try. Even when it hurts. But I think that he and I need to have an actual conversation about what polyamory means to him. It doesn’t mean fucking anyone, anytime, anywhere – at least, not to me. I’ve come to terms with the fact that he has another sub. She is married and lives in another state; he doesn’t see her nearly as often as he sees me. But I can’t share him with random women he meets.

There was an incident this past Friday night. He met a woman for a “business meeting” that turned into a date. I asked if he slept with her and he admitted he did. I was hurt and livid. I tried to leave, but he stopped me. He said that he was under the impression that I didn’t want commitment from him. My jaw dropped at this, considering I’d written him a long email explaining that commitment was exactly what I want. I asked what could make him say such a thing and he, in turn, asked me why I won’t call him Daddy yet.

And that’s the moment I realized that even the men I adore are idiots.

I’d told him the week before – after the long email asking for what I want in our relationship – that I can’t call him Daddy yet because that’s a new level of commitment I’m not ready for. I didn’t think I needed to explain that I couldn’t offer him even more of myself, even more commitment, when he hasn’t offered me any at all yet. Apparently, he needed that explanation. Though to be honest, I was so upset at the time that I still don’t think I got that point across clearly. He took me to mean that I didn’t want commitment at all.

He said that if I’d agreed to call him Daddy then he never would have had the random casual sex.

I guess I just don’t understand the way male brains work. If he had taken even 2 seconds to think about me before he got naked, he would have known just how hurt and angry I’d be. Which means he either didn’t think of me at all, which is a problem, or he didn’t care that I’d be angry, which is also a problem. Or, third option, he assumes that he can fuck anybody since I’ve acknowledged that he won’t be monogamous and I’ll never be his “one and only.” Again, problem.

But I think any of these problems are ones that can be addressed and worked through.

And honestly, all of this crap – all of the hurt and heart break I’ve felt over the last few weeks – it’s all worth it if we end up together in the end.

I want him.

I want to be with him.

And I want him to want to be with me.

I do call him Daddy in my head. It’s almost popped out of my mouth a few times. But calling him that would be an open acknowledgement that I love him. And after what happened the last time I fell in love with someone I called Daddy… I have to be sure that he’s going to be there for me.

I need him to give a little too.

Is that really so unreasonable?


•January 15, 2011 • 1 Comment

I’ve learned a lot about myself over the last few weeks.

I am not looking for a sexual friendship. Sex, when I don’t have a committed relationship, leaves me feeling hollow and takes me to a very negative place for days.

Sometimes I do things that hurt myself emotionally in order to make someone else view me in a more positive way. This is a new revelation, and I’m working on finding a way to overcome it.

I test people. I push and I push and I frustrate them. This is a defense mechanism designed to find the person who will finally not reject me and not let me push them away. This is also a new revelation.

D/s, for me, is not solely about sex. It’s about control, trust, and discipline. Sex is a large part of any relationship, but I don’t think it should be the foundation of a committed relationship. Apparently this is a rare sort of ideology concerning D/s.

While I want to find a committed relationship centered around a D/s dynamic, I am not interested in living in the public bdsm lifestyle. I have no desire to attend play parties and perform scenes. There is nothing wrong with this – I might actually be interested in watching – but participating is not for me. This is also apparently a rare sort of D/s ideology.

I don’t really know what all of these mean. I have issues to overcome – but don’t we all? Will I find someone whose ideas are similar to my own? I don’t know. But I won’t stop looking.


•January 9, 2011 • Leave a Comment

Yesterday I got to experience some fire play and fire cupping. It was fun. It could have been better, but I can definitely see enjoying it completely and totally with the right person.

The fire play, with me laying on my bed nearly naked, inevitably led to other things. For the first time in months, I had sex.

And today, I somewhat regret it.

Physically, I’m happy with what happened. I needed to be touched. But emotionally, I wish it hadn’t happened. It made me remember why I am usually very adamant about not having casual sex; I need to be emotionally connected to fully enjoy it.

But my body ruled everything yesterday and I gave in to those carnal desires.

After he left, I found out he’d fucked another girl earlier in the day. It bothered me, but it wasn’t until this morning that I was able to articulate why.

I feel like a whore.

And while I do want to be one man’s whore, he must be the right man. And I must be his only whore.

This is a completely different and negative feeling.