Tag Archive: mind


About love…

For me, part of loving a person is love as a noun. Loving all of them; for their potential, personality, their flaws and quirks. Loving them whether they fail or succeed. My love doesn’t come with strings, my love is just about how much someone matters to me. About how much I hope for their joy. There is no expectation of love in return. I can love people even when they have become horrible people, even when I wouldn’t choose to spend time around them. They can change as they need to change, because my love is about adapting, about seeing what people are at any given moment.

Circumstances may force our separation, but we may in time find a way to be together again and a few past relationships have been welcomed back into my life that way. Our relationships now may function differently than the past but, when the circumstances were that one of us needed to go make some mistakes or learn something elsewhere, or just pull our lives together for a stable base, my love is still there.

And for me, part of loving someone is love as a verb. Love as something we ‘do’ for one another that is necessary to sustain an active relationship. Making time together, being present in the relationship, respecting boundaries, communicating and compromising… are all things I try to ‘do’ to express my love whether that’s love for a friend, relative, or partner.

On another hand, my love just is. Once I love someone, whether our relationship continues or not, I love them. I think of them, miss them, and hope they are well. I am happy when they are joyful and a sounding board for sorrows if they turn to me as a friend.  Love as an emotional state, not a series of actions.

I don’t love a person for ‘just’ what they are now or ‘just’ what relationship they hold in my life, but as all the possible people they can be. I love them for their struggles, mistakes, and changes, not in spite of them; so a change, in itself, can’t undermine my love for them. How much I love them is how much I love them. Other emotions or rational reasons may become stronger than that love; like the risks involved in loving a heavy drug user, loving someone who’s abusive, or simply them growing out of their love for me.

I don’t think that love has to be returned to be real. For me, love is a part of me, not a reflection on the person. It’s my emotion, and it doesn’t have to be reciprocated. When I care about someone, I love them. And it would hurt to lose them, though I would be happy for them to find what they need, elsewhere or other than me. I’ve had people walk out of my life completely, hurt me terribly, and still I love them. I may not have a functional relationship with them, I may not foresee ever letting them in my life again, and I may even take actions to keep them separate from my life. That doesn’t change that I love them. Our lives simply grew apart or personal choices that we each made meant our relationship(as it began) was no longer sustainable.

Once I love someone, that feeling never ever leaves, even though I may never be able to live with or date that person.. It just changes logistics, realities, availability in time or other reasons to end our relationship or opportunities to grow together. Love is the fact that I have to work to isolate them from my life and my heart, if things go horribly wrong, because a part of me will always want to let them inside.

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On being a switch… Sadist/Masochist

I feel I must add a disclaimer: All switches are different. Covering every type of switch is simply impossible. So please, bear in mind that I am only discussing how switching works for me.

I read somewhere a note comparing a switch to Schrodinger’s Cat… And it’s a wonderful comparison except for the fact that it represents a yes/no dichotomy rather than a gradient. Most switches I know are not 50/50 sub/dom, they are a spectrum of their needs. For me, figuring out which side is prominent is affected greatly by the energy of whom I am interacting with… I have met Doms who I feel submissive to and others to whom I feel Dominant. I’ve met subs who I feel Dominant to and others to whom I feel submissive. I’ve met switches that stir up both energies. And I’ve met far more people who trigger nothing than I expected.

Today though, I want to talk about being a Sadist and being a Masochist. For me, S/M is intermingled amongst the whole Dom/sub/switch label and my S/M is mental and physical, not emotional.

Sadist: someone who derives sexual gratification from inflicting pain on others.

When I’m Top/Dom… I want to hurt you. I crave your tears, moans, growls and screams. I love to see the welts and bruises rise up through your skin. I want to fuck with your mind and body and twist you into a sobbing, thrashing, crying, quivering heap of flesh.

When I’m bottom/sub… I want to sink my nails into your skin when I orgasm. I want to gag myself with your flesh. I want to lash out at you with everything I have in me. I want to push you off the bed when we wrestle and slap you when you attack me. I want to fight and hurt you and push my brain to find a way to escape you.

All of those things excite me, bring me sexual gratification, and are vastly, vastly enjoyable. I don’t need any of them everytime I scene or play. But, they are delightful.

Masochist: someone who derives sexual gratification from receiving pain.

When I’m bottom/sub… I want to cry. I want to be afraid. I want every nerve singing, screaming and writhing. I want to moan and scream and curse you. I want welts, bruises, bitemarks. I want muscles that ache days later, rubby spots from all night sex, and your marks on my body. I want mental exhaustion from trying to process the pain.

When I’m Top/Dom… I want to sweat. I want muscles that burn from beating your ass. I want my fingers to hurt from how hard I dig my nails into your flesh. I want jaw muscles that ache from biting you. I want legs and arms that are sore from holding you down. I want my wrists to twinge from beating you. I want to be mentally exhausted from thinking up new ways to hurt you.

All of those things excite me, bring me sexual gratification, and are vastly, vastly enjoyable. I don’t need any of them everytime I scene or play. But, they are delightful.

On being a switch…

I am a switch. What does that mean? I am both a Dominant and a submissive. I am both a sadist and a masochist. I am both a Top and a bottom. I am not confused, less serious, being greedy or indecisive.

Human beings are not one dimensional; human beings (some human beings anyway) are delightfully multidimensional and have a huge array of different emotional/physical/mental responses. Domination and submission are not opposed to one another; but rather complementary facets of the relationship you are trying to build.

Complementary: something that fills up, completes, or makes perfect.

Opposed: To be in contention or conflict with; to be resistant to.

Doesn’t your partner complement you rather than oppose you? (Consensual non-consent is not ‘opposition’ in my mind.)

There is no one ‘true way’ whether it is BDSM, poly, religion, politics, sexuality, how you raise your children, how open you are, how you brush your teeth and so on. I might argue that ABC is my preferred way of brushing my teeth, but I’m not going to stand there and tell you you’re doing it wrong if XYZ fulfills your needs better. If you choose not to interact with me because of my self-identity, you are more than likely not someone I’d want in my life anyway.

Then, I have folk who tell me that because I more often openly submit/bottom than I openly Dom/Top that I give a false impression. Alright, I can see that, however.. If you have a question about me, perhaps you should ASK ME, rather than assuming that because you see one thing, the other doesn’t exist? Here, my children are a good example: Just because you’ve never met my children doesn’t mean they don’t exist or that I’m not a mom.

This in the first part of a multiple blog post; This post is a type of intro to the fact that I am a switch and later posts will cover what each side means to me and how both feed me. I’d much prefer you get to know me and ask questions rather than making assumptions. ABC feeds me today, maybe XYZ would be fantastic tomorrow. And sometimes my stomach makes the rumblies that only hands would satisfy.

Twisted Temple

So.  I’ve always had very, very vivid dreams. Bright, saturated colors, fine details, and an urgent immediacy to all the events, smells, sights, tastes, and the physical & emotional feelings.  Say I am dreaming that I’m on fire? I smell the smoke, choke, lungs screaming, have trouble breathing; feel the flames, my skin crisping and curling, cracking and splitting. I can smell myself cooking, feel the blood boiling under my skin, taste the ashes, every nerve shrieking, feel my throat breaking on my screams. Bathed in terror, searing heat. And time seems to slow. I have an extremely perverse and strong imagination.

Last night, I had one of my recurring nightmares. You know how when you’re dreaming sometimes you can’t see someone’s face, but you know exactly who they are? In this dream the beginning’s always the same… my ‘boyfriend’ meets me at my house,  it’s summer, I live out in the country, no close neighbors,  I’m sunbathing when he gets there… and then things are different every time I have the dream.  Sometimes we fight, sometimes not. Sometimes we sneak off and make love, sometimes not.  But at some point… he starts trying to kill me. Sometimes violently, sometimes quietly. Once he poisoned my drink, once he skinned me alive and left me to bleed to death. I have this dream 3-4 times a month. No set schedule… sometimes 3 days running,  sometimes a week or more in between instances. The one constant, the one thing that never changes? I never live. Sometimes I manage to kill him as I’m dying, but I never kill him and live.

Had that dream last night…  I died particularly violently this time. He slipped something in my drink that knocked me out and when I woke up, he had me tied up and proceeded to torture me for what seemed like forever.  Just laughing the whole time.  Knives, pinchers, red hot pokers, every clichéd little torture weapon there is out there. And when I quit screaming for him… he burned me alive.

And as if my psyche hadn’t felt I was tortured enough last night… Then I had a dream that everyone in my life that I cared about… family, friends, lovers, kids literally every one; had been taken, taken and stashed away in this weird religious enclave. And I had to make it through this twisted, torturous, maze of a temple to save them. Which is *not* a dream I’ve had before… but was very very frightening, frustrating, and I failed.  I failed to save them, and got to watch as they died… a few choice people pulled out of the crowd and killed individually. Then the rest, and the bodies of the ones already dead.. blown up in the temple.

I think it’s entirely possible my mind hates me.