You Say Tomato, I Say Tomahto

“Passion is a positive obsession. Obsession is a negative passion.” –Paul Carvel

I know several people who have read my blog.  I have gotten one of two reactions:  “I’ve learned something about you I didn’t know before” and “I have read over and over your stories.  I feel you were saying mean things about someone I know.”  A person’s response is a great litmus test to how they take the emotion elicited by my blog and transform it through their thoughts. 

The fixation generated about reading a few stories that I equate to life lessons and my desire to share them.  Other than one person, I don’t use actual names to identify anyone.  Some of my life events occurred anytime between twenty years ago and up to recent times.  People who weren’t there wouldn’t have a clue about who was there with me through my life lessons.  I have heard people tell me, “So-and-so said they couldn’t believe you wrote about them in your blog for the world to see.  There is a good reason for what they did.  You just misunderstood their actions/their words.”  My thoughts are this.  Why isn’t so-and-so asking me out right about my blog?  Why is so-and-so talking to others about what they assume to be my truth?  Why is so-and so spending so much energy telling others my life lessons misrepresent what really happened or what was really said; “The lady doth protest too much, methinks”.

The enthusiasm generated about getting to know a bit about me through stories I normally would not disclose over coffee.  This is the other side of the same coin.  The same emotion my blog creates as it runs through another’s psyche, another’s filters.  My blog is a catalyst for discussions about how I got to be this person at this point in time.  And it shows people they are not alone in stepping on landmines as they navigate this life.  My blog also shows people they can recover with their sanity intact from the damage inflicted by such landmines.

Why I consider the reaction to this blog as a litmus test is simple.  If you fixate on a few stories that you believe are an injustice for me to put out there, I think there will not be any common ground for us to meet.  Well, other than your sense of self importance.  If you read, reread and reread again my blogs, then accuse me of being unfair to others without having been a firsthand participant, then I know you have come to plead for another’s case.  Which I begin wonder if you have already approached me with bias and another’s agenda at hand.   If you read my blog with the desire to help me celebrate how far I have come in this life after almost being aborted, well then you get it.  You understand the story is not about the people, me or others, but about the celebration of realizing we are infallible beings. 

I have a right to express myself.  I have a right to share what has happened to me.  I choose to use this forum to send out to the void what I see as my truth.  If you don’t agree, fine.  If you agree, fine too.  You have a choice to keep coming back to read this blog.  Or not.  Simple.

More Life Lessons Learned at a Snail's Pace

“You will either step forward into growth or you will slip back into safety.” –Abraham Maslow

This is what happens when you put your thoughts out there for people to read: you get feedback.  Others have spoken to me about their own experiences, observations and perspectives.  Here is a synopsis of what people have shared with me.

*What I experienced isn’t rare; unfortunately, it is more common that the community would like to admit.  *I know so many transgendered ladies who take hormones; therefore, I am unaccustomed to the vestiges of overt masculine behavior that arises from those who do not.  *Assholes are assholes regardless of gender identification, label, title, orientation or status.  *Single women at events unfortunately deal with bullshit from too many guys believing they’ve shelled out several hundreds of dollars to be at this event (ticket, hotel, play items, etc.)  and are entitled to receiving some sort o’ nasty.  Nutshell: “Dammit! I’m gonna get mine cuz I came here to have wild and kinky sex.”

My thoughts on their thoughts will have to wait for later blogs.  However, what I’ve come away with is that I have been going to events with an unreasonable mindset.  Once I pass through registration, I let down my vanillaland guard and mill about with ‘safe, sane, and consensual’ as my security blanket.  I believe I can go to events to be myself without censorship.  What my friends have helped me realize is my belief does not match up well with reality. 

My first thought when I was in the grips of the first bear hug was to wait for the pressure to let up and then punch her in the balls and, if needed, to do a front snap kick to create a bit of distance.  However, for the several seconds that elapsed before she released her grip, my mind started to censor my desired reaction.  We were in a smallish, crowded vendor space.  My luck she would have knocked over someone, they would have broken a hip or something and I’m facing a civil action for negligence.  Or my actions could have had me thrown out of the event (and perhaps barred) for throwing the first punch.  Self-censorship.

The second bear hug I received a few hours later from different gal was not so forceful.  It was less about showing off ‘male bravado’ and was more about placing an exclamation point to her statement that I might not be a real Domme.  My mind said, “Fuck you, bitch.”  My words said, “I am a Domme and I don’t submit.”  Self-censorship.

The third time it was when I leaned in to kiss and hug someone good night for the evening.  When we finished hugging, she grabbed my arms and kept kissing me.  I’m sure to onlookers  she looked like the drinking bird toy and I was the glass of water.  After a few pecks I said, “This is too much.”  She stopped for a second and gave me a few more, released my arms and made a few statements about her being so  happy to spend some time with me.  My mind said, “What the fuck!  Not again!”  My words said, “Good night.”   Self-censorship.

So, where there any positive notes from the event?  I’m going to BL5 in April.  (Thank you, Top)  A wonderful guy spent the wee hours of the morning on the last day as my practice toy for different rope ties and getting to know me.  (Thank you, Walt)  I was able to briefly lean on, and collect some righteous energy, from a wonderful little.  (Thank you, Sara)  I received words of wisdom from two incredible women.  (Thank you, Dee & Di)  The generous holiday gift I received from a dear friend.  (Thank you, Peter)  A few unfortunate events that required me to reevaluate my belief about events being a safe haven.  (Thank you for the lessons presented me.)

August 19, 2011

“There are some things you learn best in calm, and some in storm.” --Willa Cather

I’ve learned some important lessons from the people in my life over the years.  Here’s an impromptu list.

Debbie taught me ambitions based on sensual pleasures are fleeting.  Tim taught me to keep my phone face turned downward and hidden from view.  Joanne taught me women can be conniving philanders too.  Eric taught me how to guard my wallet and the best places where to hide bottles of booze.  Kathleen taught me not all strangers are a Good Samaritan.  Leslie taught me jealously can be a very destructive force.  Jenny taught me a drunk can throw a frozen turkey with a lot of force.  Mom taught me blood doesn’t always make a family.  Dad taught me brute force is a frustrated man’s weapon.  Mark taught me that sometime it’s not good to hang on for ‘old times sake’.  Mike taught me that emotions unchecked can stunt one’s growth.