I can’t seem to wrap my head around writing a coherent post. My mind is a jumble of images. Snap shots of comings and goings and split second bursts of emotions that upon examination, disappear in a puff of smoke. I’m feeling unsettled. Yet, in other respects, I feel the most grounded I have in ages. All of this makes it tough to write something meaningful, something profound. I’m stuck in the space between those moments. That chittering, chattering, cacophony that cries out for clarity and calm.
A friend once gave me some great blogging advice. He said just write. Be brave and be honest. Say what you really feel and then decide to make the post public or private.
I realize I’ve been self-editing in public quite a bit. I know the reason. I’m afraid. A fear of exposing truth has hobbled me, made me appear two-dimensional and littered up my mind. In the interest of clearing some space in the attic for substantial thoughts to take hold, it’s time for a mini brain dump of 3 things that are making me quake in my boots.
1) I’m struggling with balance between my two halves – the other me, and the me that is Raven. I’m not skilled at duplicity. The only person who knows both parts of me is my incredible husband, Gethin. I toy with the idea of letting some other people know about the other half of me. There are one or two in my other life and one or two in this one whom I would like to share my two parts with. But, it always comes back to the risk that it poses to my livelihood. If only the world weren’t so judgmental about a woman freely expressing her sexuality and being a force to reckon with in buisness. I’ve heard so many horror stories from sex bloggers who’ve extended trust only to have it threaten their real life positions with family and work. This scares the crap out of me. Once that door is opened, it can never be closed again.
2) I have a friend whom I like and respect very much. I used to feel like I was a valued part of his life. He’s stepped back for obvious and mundane reasons and his communication with me has severely dwindled. I continue to make the effort to stay in contact to little effect. There’s a part of my gut that believes his withdrawal really has more to do with his perception of what being my friend means.
I haven’t verified my thoughts because when we do have the rare occasion to talk, I want to spend it on pleasantries and re-establishing that special connection instead of dredging up the serious business of hurt feelings, real or imagined. Unfortunately, his lack of communication has the unappealing effect of making me feel needy, insecure and burdensome; qualities I loathe in myself. In the end, I lower my expectations of him and berate myself for not taking the risk of hearing the truth, because I’m afraid to know that, to him, our friendship, and therefore, I, may be disposable.
3) Since I started this ride into D/s, I’ve been tearing away the programming that I’ve spent a lifetime mired inside and I’ve come to some realizations. With experimentation, I’ve discovered that I like a lot more sensation that borders on pain than I ever thought I would. Interestingly, my tolerances have increased so that what would have been painful and totally out of my consideration 6 months ago, are now low-level activities. I keep seeking the next boundary, and when I hit it I call “yellow”. But, with a little time, it becomes an enthusiastic “green”.
Why does this scare me? Because I feel that there’s no going back. Vanilla sex is pretty rare for me these days. And that means I have to adjust my self-perceptions and accept that it really is OK to enjoy sexual proclivities that fall outside of the mainstream. The strange thing is, that the majority of my life has been lived outside of the mainstream and I take great pride in it. But when it comes to sex, my brain says “nice girls aren’t supposed to like that” which has to have come from my Catholic upbringing. I know it’s irrational, but sometimes it fills me with fear that I like it a bit rough. Though, clearly not enough fear to keep me from doing it or enjoying it while I’m in the moment. So perhaps this is one demon I’m slaying.
If any of these scenarios look familiar, how have you overcome them? What do you do when fear, both real or imagined, takes a grip on your psyche?