I just got back from my favorite city on the planet. I did some of my favorite things and a bunch of new things because I wasn’t by myself. It felt rushed. I was tired. The person I went with ranged between overjoyed that I had made the trip happen to cranky I wouldn’t let them possibly get kidnapped. As we migrated home, they were back to normal and living their best life and I was tapped out. I KNEW I was tired before we left because I was working up until a week before we left. And if I want to be honest, I was working in the office until a week before we left but I was working from home until the day after we arrived. I had to manage myself and my mood and my body and my exhaustion when I really just wanted to nap, have cinnamon rolls, and enjoy the view. I was so tapped by the experience that when I finally had time to relax I cried. I realized that I had been holding my breath and waiting for the same kind of joy and thanks to be directed my way that I would have directed towards someone else. I am always very mindful of how what someone does for me impacts me and then in return I try to acknowledge that on some level. The people around me absolutely are capable of doing so. It’s just not usually the people I expect/want to hear it from. I had to sit with that. With the number of times and ways I had been disappointed over the course of my life because I was expecting me from other people. That’s silly. Well silly for me. I kind of wear my heart on my sleeve if you are important to me and I realize that because of that I give, potentially more than I should, a lot of myself to folks and while yes they love the things and moments they don’t love on me in the way that would let me know it was worth the time I shelled out doing the things. Okay that’s fine, I guess. It is fine not I guess. I just have to learn how to manage my expectations better.
I almost made a decision to never return. To my favorite place on the planet. That’s when I had to take a deep breath. This was still my favorite city and one disappointment shouldn’t taint that. Let’s be realistic there too. If disappointment stopped be from returning then 2019 would never have occurred because I cried like an idiotic baby on the trip home before that. I had been waiting to spend time with my ex. I had carved out time, gotten a really nice room with a view and I may have seen him for a few hours that entire trip. The sub drop that followed was crushing. And then I waited when I got home before reaching out because he promised he would explain things later. I don’t remember how long I waited but the response was probably brutal on my end because again I was expecting myself from other folks and that is not likely to happen. It definitely did a number on my head. Single again, childless mostly by choice and again by circumstances, getting older and feeling like a failure in my submission again. Like I did all the things I was asked to do and still wasn’t chosen. It made me feel small and so I made myself small outside of the spaces I was allowed to be large. Work was fine, I was celebrated, I got a new house and a new car. But submissive me was on life support and waiting for someone to pull the plug.
Over the last few years, I made inroads fully loving myself. And celebrating myself. And doing things I would enjoy because that’s what I wanted to do. Submissive me is recovered and aware of the universe–even older than she was before lol–but also not feeling bad about not having someone to kneel in front of right now. I choose with my whole heart and having that reciprocated doesn’t seem like a big ask. We don’t have to demonstrate that choice in the same way but it has to be there. The men I have met lately aren’t doing that. They want to fuck which would be great for stretching my muscles but likely would make me more closed off eventually. Two quotes on relationships stick in my brain: 1. when people show you who they are, believe them the first time and 2. the only consistent feature of your unsatisfying relationships is you. Don’t get me wrong, there is always nuance involved in relationships. Maybe someone is having a bad day. Maybe someone doesn’t have to the tools to make the best choices for themselves. Maybe Mercury is in retrograde and fucking everything up. Whatever the case may be I allow for some flexibility. However, at some point there has to be recognition of the limitations present in pursuing any particular course of action. I would love for someone to play with my tattoo while I’m kneeling naked by their side or stretched out giving them head. However, I’m cool letting the only folks touching that tattoo right now be my massage therapist and tattoo artist. I don’t want half measures. I want to be chosen–daily if necessary–and provided with the best version of themselves when we are joined in community. That doesn’t seem like a huge ask but remembering to ask for it is what I have to do. I have quit giving folks outs when I ask for things and that requires way more mental energy than I want but I have to stop selling myself short.
Speaking of community. I desperately miss having conversations about kink with Black people in particular but people in general. The folks that used to be in my world are not there for good reasons and I just haven’t had the ability to form a vibrant community that checks in with each other regularly. Part of it is location and part is my work but I really want that back in my life. I’m grateful for the folks that stand in the gap for me now and remind me that I’m not crazy for wanting what I want. It’s annoying to have to remember that everyone won’t love on you the way you love on them but it stops me from feeling like nothing I have done matters. I know it does, even if it just matters to me. So I need to take more deep breaths and allow people to be who they are and acknowledge that they may not be the people who appreciate me fully. I’ll find my place in every room I enter if I just love myself more than I give of myself in hopes that the love will be returned. It will be when the right folks are around me and I can take a nap when they aren’t. Naps are beautiful.