cuffs

I got new cuffs! More accurately, Sir gave me new cuffs. Custom. A surprise. I probably cried, but that’s ridiculous.

The thing is…

I love my old cuffs! Also custom. And I have EVERY piece of those… Wrist, ankle, thigh, collar, hogtie, leash. Purchased over a few years, everything was so exciting. New toys, varied activities, bruises galore, so many photos, serious play sessions multiple times a week. Every second of every day felt like a slow build leading to a fiery night.

I’m not saying things are awful now. I’m not saying its boring or mundane. I’m not saying we’ve lost a spark. I’m not saying those things because they are not true. But as happens, life got big – really fucking serious and stressful. We got comfortable in our routine. We settled nicely into our added titles of Dom and sub. We have had intermittent mental health crisis with our middle child. So maybe our lives got a little less exciting.

Time for play is in short supply when you have to make sure your daughter is okay throughout each night, for years. Bruises are harder to come by when you have to be extra quiet. Emotions run high and maybe one of us turned away a little bit to deal and the other one just plain withdrew. Resentment crept in along the way, unused items triggering panic and an odd sort of grief.

So all of that happened. The D/s never fell away – not really – but it shifted and morphed into something sort of easy, but also sort of bullshit.

So many conversations. And texts. And emails. And handwritenn letters. So many words and promises. So much adjusting. And changing. And all the BIG life still going on while we tried to nurture and maintain us.

I’ve been embarrassed to speak of it here. You read that right, I have been ashamed to write my truth on my own damn blog. The one place I can just be me, I felt like I couldn’t. My anxiety fed into my lack of self-esteem and … well… I never said I didn’t have issues!

No more. This is my life. This is my blog. This is my friend by proxy.

Sir and I have been together 22 years. We have been 24/7 D/s for six. Sometimes marriage is a struggle. Sometimes 24/7 is a struggle. Sometimes LIFE is a struggle. That’s what’s up.

As I said, last night Sir presented me with new cuffs (and a harness & matching leather cat ears/mask head harness thing 🐈). I needed them because my old cuffs were rusting on my arms. I am so thankful and feel so loved and cared for. Crazily, I’m also a little sad…

My old set represents the new and exciting beginning: big, complete, all-encompassing.

And this one is a new beginning, a little up-in-the-air, yet a little more comfortable, a little more established…

But maybe also a promise of better things to come!

💙

~shygirl

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the one about elephants

I have a good memory. Or a bad memory, depending on what comes to mind, so I suppose I should say long.

I have a long memory.

I remember things forever, I guess. If something or someone has hurt me, I can be transported right back into those feelings at that moment and my brain tells me that it hurts exactly the same. Logically, I know it doesn’t. Logically, I know I have moved on.

I’d like to say I don’t hold grudges, but I’d be a liar. I’d also like to say that I don’t burn bridges, but I light the match with glee. I’d love to say I forgive and forget, but I can’t. I can forgive (with some people FAR too frequently), but I can’t forget.

Elephants don’t forget either.

Man, I don’t want to be an elephant! I’m a kitten, we all know this. I don’t think my cats forget, either, though. Sometimes they look at me like “mom, remember last week when you made me wait five minutes for breakfast? Fuck you.” So much side eye from these cats! I digress…

Elephants. Memories. Me. What triggers my ridiculous memory? Anything, really. A song. A new hurt. Food. Photos. A place. My emotions can get thrown right back into whatever I remember, as if no time has passed. It’s weird, difficult to explain, and it sucks so hard.

Today a smell got me. A shower gel. One that is my favorite and that I used regularly six, five, four years ago. I lathered up my sweaty body and was transported into some bullshit feelings. Not cool. I don’t like anything messing with my showers so I said to myself nope, not today. I tried to fill my mind with other things – it didn’t work. I allowed myself to just feel the past and I didn’t dwell. It hurt but then it washed away. Progress, sort of.

Today’s satsuma scented memory wasn’t a bad one – especially at the time it was made – it just brought up the feelings of stupidity, misinformed decisions, and lies that came to light later. And for those kinds of good- turned-bad memories? The best remedy (for this elephant mind) is replacing the unpleasant with something more palatable. Go back to the place, do a new thing, all with Sir, and make a better memory! It offers a fresher focus so when the elephant strikes, though past still hurts, the new experience has a bigger place in my head. Four decades to figure this out, but better now than never.

As for my little shower situation? Well, I’m sure if I beg Sir properly, he’ll pound some new, sweetly scented memories into me.

Happy Monday and hugs to anyone that can’t stop being an elephant. 🖤

~shygirl

the bird makes me old

Doing new things is hard! Sometimes, anyway. Especially when they are things that make me feel out of my element, like an outsider, not part of the club.

NO! I’m not talking about dirty things! I love doing new dirty things, experiencing new BDSM related things, new play, new toys, new marks. I wish I were reporting on that today.

This new is technology related. I know – groan, hiss, eyeroll. How boring. My struggle is REAL though. I started a Twitter account to go along with my Etsy account, same name as that. I’ve never much cared for Twitter (insert old age jokes here), though I have had a personal one for years. My Etsy shop is very small, but business has been pretty steady and the BDSM pins have been a huge hit. That’s pretty awesome and unexpected, but I would like to get a little more traffic to increase the sales of our higher-end items – the bars and the spanky things. I’ve been struggling with the logistics, but Sir uses Twitter to promote his podcast and Etsy shop and He seems to get a lot of hits from it, so I thought I’d give it a whirl.

I made the g&P account and of course needed to label it as adult, which then required me to allow myself to see questionable material. First of all, my old ass didn’t even realize there was full on porn on Twitter. HA! Surprise! Yippie! Twitter is a whole new world with that little toggle on! I pinned a silly little intro post and put what I thought were relevant tags. How will I get followers I thought?! Perhaps I should SEARCH the tags that I put to find like-minded folk. I found things! A lot of cam girls, and Dominatrix profiles and people selling nekkid photos. Nothing wrong with ANY of those things, at all. I’m not against them in the least. It’s just not the kind of thing that I’m looking for right now. Those circles aren’t really going to accomplish anything for my business… also I am not sure that they are all legit anyway. I certainly don’t want to deal with a lot of bots.

The account has been open a week. Of course there are no followers. Because I do NOT know what I’m doing. I don’t know what tags to use, I don’t know how to come off as a real person or a business. (I just had the funniest thought: I don’t know how to come off as a real person in actual LIFE either. Maybe that’s just my personality.)  =) I really don’t know where to start, so I have a followed a few people whose blogs I follow and then people they retweet. Yes. Like a weirdo stalker. I’m going to keep trying to find my place. On Twitter. In blogland. In life. One day, I may stumble into where I belong! Here’s hoping.

There’s not a whole lot going on with this post, I just wanted to regale you all with the tale of how I am not suited for Twitter. How, at age 41, I feel like such an old lady trying to figure out the interwebs that all the kids are talking about.
*I’m still a dirty, submissive old lady so that has to count for something! Right?!

Happy weekend, y’all!
~shygirl

I have debated with myself for ten minutes on whether or not I should post links to Etsy or Twitter. I am horrible at promotion, much less self-promotion. And Twitter is a whole lot of nothing at the moment. But I’m certainly not forcing you to click the links so maybe it’s not too pushy. Aarghhhhh. Click or don’t, it’s all good.

twitter: @glitterandPlaid
etsy.com/shop/glitterandplaid