thinking [with age] thursday

I thought by now I wouldn’t feel so ugly. I thought by my early 40s I would have a little more confidence and a few less tears. I thought my anxiety would dissolve and I would sink into some lovely state of being. I thought by this time I would be comfortable in my own skin. I thought I wouldn’t feel like an outsider everywhere I go. I thought I would have my shit together. Or if I didn’t, I thought I could at least make it LOOK like I had my shit together.

I was so wrong about all of that.

At best, each day when I look I the mirror I feel passable. Mostly though, my face is the same face I’ve never loved, but with added wrinkles. Sometimes, I have a little confidence but it is always short-lived and the tears? I cry more now than in all my previous years combined. My anxiety not only didn’t dissolve, it has consumed more of me and I have sunk into some sort of state of being, but it is not lovely – it’s just worry on top of worry, counting down time. I have these fleeting moments in space where I am comfortable in my skin, though reality kicks me down before I have time to enjoy it. I don’t feel like an outsider, I AM an outsider, in most aspects of my life. I rarely have my shit together and I am far too tired to pretend like I do .

It is just weird. I thought by 42 I would be firmly settled into ME and the reality is I am still just the same as I ever was. I have a little more patience than I used to, I’m a little less angry, I have a lot more love (both given and received). I have a lot of good and wonderful things in my life and I am oh-so-thankful.

But deep down, in my heart and soul, I am still the same girl…

the girl that is never quite enough.

-shygirl

thinking [change or Changed] thursday

People change.

We are forever changing and evolving. So why then, is it frowned upon when someone’s change no longer aligns with you.

If when you first met, there were more similarities than differences but now one of you has changed so dramatically they become nearly unrecognizable, can you even bridge the divide? Things you knew are now null and void, so how is it that the feelings are expected to be the same? People grow together or they grow apart, right? But sometimes it goes beyond growth into just a whole different person.

It may even be a good change in the life of the one doing the changing! Good for them, but bad for you. Accepting someone as they are is great, loving them even as they become a different person is important, understanding it is best for their life is admirable… But what you don’t have to do, what you SHOULD NOT have to do, is carry on with them the same as before… with no one mentioning the divide, the change, the alternate universes we now live in and with. But so often, we just say nothing and keep up the sick charade. It’s exhausting and pretty sad.

Me? I haven’t changed so much as grown. I am the same person, hopefully a little better, but ultimately me. I hold the same convictions, feel the same about all the big stuff, have a very dirty mouth and the sarcasm never stops.

Once, we were similar. I think we were anyway… could be more pretending and lies… But I like to believe we were similar… And now?

We aren’t. Not in any real way.

There’s no hate. No ill-will. No animosity. But there is definitely a bit of W O W and a small smattering of ouch from time to time.

It’s a lot to take in and mull over, to analyze and digest. There are questions – of how and where and when and why and what the fuck – that will never be answered.

I don’t know how someone morphs into someone else. Not sure that’s information I even need to know. There’s change. And then there’s change. I know you’re supposed to meet people where they are, but I’m tired and maybe it’s time for someone to meet me where I am.

Until that happens (I am not holding my breath), I’ll just hole up in the sweet little world I have with Sir and our family.

Happy New Year.

Happy Thursday!

– shygirl

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