this post will likely be a hot mess so if you keep reading you have been warned. i have known that i was a submissive for twenty years. in that time it was never fully safe for me to be out and about in the community but the internet made it easier to connect to people who understood BDSM especially as a Black person. not easy now because there were still people that despite my stated interest would sneak into my inbox anyway but it was easier to stumble on the right one or two people to carry me to the next phase of my journey. as i got older those people would be around longer and longer which was good but when they were gone later it sucked away a piece of me. in those moments though, the community still seemed to be present to pick up the slack and keep me stable until the next long term relationship began. over the last few years though that hasn’t even been there.
i’ve realized i like my world peaceful and arguing on the internet is not my style. competing over some Dom’s fleeting attention is even lower on my list of things to do with my time. and i have never been able to have conversation for the sake of conversation. add in to that the break in trust i had a few years ago with a former submissive friend and i’m not even sure it’s worth trying to connect to people again. and i shouldn’t pin that totally on her and i falling out. there was someone else that did something similar a few months before that and it just eroded my faith that Black women in the lifestyle could be open and friendly with each other over long periods of time in ways that were not transactional. there may be but i haven’t met them yet and i don’t know if i’m ever going to be ready to step out there for that again.
which leads me to where this came from in the first place. the worst part of what i’m feeling right now is realizing how easy it was/is for people that i have cared deeply about to forget i exist or even if they haven’t forgotten to just step away without ever pausing to think about how i might be doing. about how their absence may or may not be impacting me. and i guess they don’t really have to. things are over. i’m the one that’s stuck or holding on to a piece of them inside of me. i’m the one that randomly started crying for no reason earlier today. and who is crying now thinking about how for the people i want to matter to the most, i’m not even something that matters enough for them to send a random hi message every blue moon. Mr. Good Nyhte has been a gem lately but i’m still the one reaching out to him first. everyone has their new life without the old version of me in it.
and i have late night blog posts, random cooking binges and daydreams about what went wrong. i think that’s all that’s left for now.