One of the many reasons I love to write is that I get to control the events.  One person doesn't over-speak, the other doesn't over-react.  One side doesn't ignore the other and the other side doesn't pay lip service.  I get to decide what is relevant, important, and what can be dismissed.  In my stories, I always have a witty, succinct come-back and my opponents always lose. 

And then I edit it. 

Real life is not like that.  *I* know what I mean, but why can't I express it when I'm talking to another human being?  I don't even need to consider their broken misinterpretation or assumptions since the conversation can't even move past what either of us thinks we heard.  No.  When I said that I DON'T do that, it meant that I do NOT do that and can't actually be persuaded to.  When I said I LOVE that, it did NOT mean that I'm trying to convince you that I'm something I'm not. 

Yes, I have met a fair number of women who say they love giving oral and lie when they say that.  It's awful that they lie and then once you're with them, the thing that was possibly most important to you never happens.  I've met a similar number of men who say the same thing.  Why can't we tell the truth?  Both sides are guilty and then those of us who DO tell the truth aren't taken at their word.

This whole mess of trying to meet people, very specific people, is kind of a nightmare.  I've been cursed at, called names and been accused of being everything under the sun.  I'm not a man.  I'm not a troll.  I don't judge your kink and thank you for reciprocating.  Communication is so vital in this world and yet we seem to be no better at it than the vanillaheads.  That's really unfortunate.

I took 2 years off from writing while in the middle of writing 3 novels.  It was a purposeful break, and a much needed one.  As I start working again, I can't quite remember what it was like to be a writer.  Strange, since I did it for so long.  I also think that my experiences since then have left me very jaded about love.  I reread these stories and I can't remember believing that such things existed.

A friend told me that part of the reason that men my age want girls who are 18-22 is because, in his humble opinion, women my age were bitter and jaded.  He said that men like him were forever fighting to live down the demons of a jaded woman's past.  He also said that young girls were also more amenable to being made to do things they didn't want to do -- or things women my age wouldn't do.  I wonder if his assessment was actually based on substantial evidence, or merely on his own experience.

I can be brutally honest here.  Many of my cohort stopped being interested in sex and came to believe that they had evolved beyond a need for sexual expression.  It's a stupid conclusion to have made.  The truth of it seems to be more relative to their overall satisfaction with their sex life.  How long can a person go unfulfilled before they stop trying?  For most men, the initiation of sex usually means that they will finish.  For most women (especially married >10 years), the initiation of sex doesn't mean that they will enjoy completion.  Add in the mistake of faking orgasms and of being incapable of expressing their own needs without it sounding like a clinical critique and you have a celibate, sexless marriage.  For their part, I believe men want to satisfy their wives but they tire under the relentless torrent of judgment and criticism. 

For women, we want to have our bodies worshiped.  As much as men want to see their woman on her knees in adoration of his member; women want to have their body pleasured, not just used.  And, sometimes they want to feel used, demanded, taken.  The lack of effective communication destroys sex lives.  In many ways, men get distinguished, while women get replaced.  All those changes that mens' bodies endure, they are 'charming.'  No one perceives the changes of womens' bodies as 'charming.'  We are looked upon with judgment as though these things we couldn't have affected are our fault and a result of laziness.  Sure, many women stop trying, gain a vastly inappropriate amount of weight, and expect their men to continue wanting them sexually even though they are not even a shadow of the physique they once were.  These are not the changes of which I speak.  You're thinking it, so I'll just type it:  stretch marks, sagging pendulous breasts, varicose veins, roughed-up feet with bunions and callouses, and unwanted body hair. 

It's no secret that a large part of the reason men my age chase Jennifer's is because of youth and beauty.  I promise you, what I lack where it comes to smooth skin and taut breasts is more than compensated by my technique.  I never get that chance.  Like all men are lumped into inappropriate categories of people to avoid, women experience much the same.  I didn't start out jaded, I became that way over a long period of time and over a lot of heartache.  Men and women experience challenges where it comes to love and sexual expression, we just respond differently to it.

I may be jaded and bitter; so warm and soften my heart.  I may be neurotic and cynical; so change my mind.  I may sit here, hoping to find inspiration to finish these novels so that I can begin working on the next; I will finish them and the journey will have been worth it.  I'm not so bitter and jaded that I can't change.  As much as I can't remember what it was like to be newly in love, I could be reminded.  As much as I don't trust, and have fears that keep me awake at night, Those things can be soothed, healed. 

I think these stories will not go where they intended originally to go.  Isn't that life?  And, isn't that wonderful...

There are times I just don't enjoy the roller coaster.  I suppose I should, since it's a part of life.  But, I was never one for amusement parks. 

I suppose in my profile, I should include:  can't simply pull time out of my ass and make magic happen.  I have responsibilities, and though my thoughts are often with others, I can't just jump out of real life and dodge those responsibilities.  Someone from here wrote to me and said that these things (developing relationships) don't just happen overnight, or even quickly like the movies would have us believe.  Nothing happens quickly and it's been my experience that the best things in this world require patience, tenacity and dedication.

All butterflies, and no where to release them.  All passion, and no where to explore it.  I just don't know anymore.  What, exactly, am I doing here?

There are some women in my local community who do not like me.  The feeling is mutual.  However, their impact on my life is insignificant.  Still, it does amuse me in those rare instances when we must interact, how petty and small some people can be.  If I can manage to live my life and let others live theirs, why are they not able to do the same?

I think this dynamic is the heart of the problem with Vanilla people -- mainly Vanilla women.  I know, how sexist of me to have typed that, much less think it.  My point is that Vanilla women seem to teeter on the edge of a knife.  They want so much to be all the positive superlatives imaginable.  They want others to see their greatness, their perfection.  They don't want to be seen in truth and seem to run from the darkness within as if they could escape themselves.  In order to maintain the facade, and avoid being attacked, they launch a preemptive counterstrike at our culture/lifestyle as if we planned to attack them.  WE couldn't care less.

Embracing the darkness within, and expressing the deepest secrets within us is empowering.  From this point of view, we can accept others and all their idiosyncrasies because we first accept ourselves.  And that's the SA node in the heart of their problem -- the reason it just keeps on ticking:  they don't accept themselves.  It is then quite clear why they are so critical of others and can not let other people live their own lives.  At this moment, I know a handful of them are cheating on their spouses, and I know several children who don't actually know who their father is.  That's not something I judge.  Why should they judge my life in light of the activities they do that they, themselves find unacceptable? 

I live my secret culture in private because it is private business.  I live my secret culture in private because it is meant for adult expression only.  I live my secret culture in private because I have a very public persona that must be sterile.  I live my secret culture in private, so what, exactly, are they judging?  I think, and I can't be certain...  I think they're judging the smile on my face how through and through that smile emanates from my core.  For me, ours is not a hobby, it is an expression of presence; of being.  I came to BDSM to discover what is here, and I ended up discovering what is ME.  

It doesn't rain, but it pours.  I've been playing hooky, trying to avoid these last three chapters demanded of me by my editor.  I should have known better.  I wonder how many stories can be started with that sentence. 

I really do give folks reason to run.  Maybe subconsciously, I know I need to write these chapters.  I don't want to lose my contract.  Maybe that's where I should be right now: writing fiction instead of fooling around here.  I think CM and FB will one day cause an early demise for me.  Which is worse?  Myocardial Infarction, or a simple broken heart.

Perspective

What a difference a day makes!  Yesterday, I felt a little bewildered.  Making friends is really a challenge for me.  I don't know why, or how I end up offending others, or flat out sending them running like they're being chased by rabid wolves.  Yesterday, and last night, I felt a little lost.  Like, I just can't seem to express the genuine me, without screwing it.

Today!  Well, I can tell you that today is a brand new day.  I am so refreshed, rejuvenated and revitalized!  I spent the day supporting my eldest kid at the youth GLBTQ Pride Parade and Rally in Boston.  It was amazing.  Seeing so many exuberant young people standing up for themselves and for each other was inspiring.  I loved being surrounded by their youth and vitality.  And, it reminded me that the challenges I often face with meeting new people and making friends has more to do with where I'm looking, and less about any deficits I have.  Sure, I have deficits, as do we all.  But I am woman, hear me ROAR!!!  And I deserve a more abundant life with wonderful friends and lovers.

One thing that really spoke to me and my current issues was a drag queen.  Now, I asked her and she said that the term 'drag queen' was appropriate to use.  I was watching her standing off to the side of the stage getting ready for her segment of today's festivities.  She was fidgeting with her bra, her skirt, her hair, her jewelry.  She was fussing and fidgeting a lot.  So, I just walked up to her and said, "Stop fussing so much, you look amazing.  You're beautiful."  I think she got teary-eyed.  Isn't that what all of us want to hear?  It's what I want to hear.  I felt her pangs of self-doubt.  She is a man who dresses up as a woman, regardless of the reason, and she wants to look her best.  She wants to be accepted and loved, just as she is.  So I suppose, then, that I share a great deal in common with drag queens! 

Perhaps in my past, someone I trusted said things that were cruel and evil; aimed at making sure I never had the confidence to think anyone else would ever want me.  That's exactly what manipulative behavior attempts to do:  to silence us into submission where we are terrified of that world that rejects us.  Rejected?  No.  Not by the whole world.  Perhaps that one man thinks that most men wouldn't find me attractive.  Perhaps that one man thinks that most men think that I'm not classically beautiful (whatever that means).  Perhaps his commentary on my physical appearance was spot on.  I don't have to take that crap, and I'm not going to let his cruel words hurt me any more. 

I am beautiful, no matter what they say, words can't tear me down.

I am beautiful, in every single way, YES words can't bring me down...

So don't you bring me down today.

You are beautiful, so put on your sexy clothes and strut your stuff.  It isn't as much about what they see, as it is about how you feel.  Love who you are.

Of all the punishments out there, the only one I fear is banishment.  There is just something about being sent off alone, unneeded that I can't tolerate.  Being dismissed unused, unnecessary; it is anathema to me.  To be held in banishment is torture. 

Along those lines, having exposed a bit of the self, and then being dismissed is really an awful feeling.  Men want confident women, strong submissives who do not yield to just any one.  It's a source of great power and strength to know that your sub has options, and yet, she chose you.  What about submissives?  How are we to be confident at all in the face of such rejection?  All women, at the core of who they are, are beautiful.  Every woman has beauty even though only Angelina Jolie looks like Angelina Jolie.  The rest of us don't have teams of professionals ensuring we always look like a million dollars. 

Just being exposed, even a little bit, on sites like this is a challenge.  What makes me special, or more worthy an investment of time than any other?  If I should falter or fail, will I sit in exile?  It is not an easy thing to be exposed; much worse to be dismissed.

Hello again!  It's been a long time.  Every time I thought I was ready to rejoin you all, I just couldn't stand up and shout, "I'm sexy, take me, I'm yours!"  All I've managed to do is just heal.  My best friend survived a heart attack and her kiddos are back home with her.  Now, as my summer begins in earnest, I have a lot of work to do.  A lot of work has got to be met with some good old-fashioned fun!

If you sent me email, and I didn't respond, please accept my apologies.  Honestly, I wasn't ready and you'd have been dealing with a sad, pitiful mess.  I'm good now.  I'm healing.  So, here I am.  I can't wait to see what tomorrow brings.

Hello to all, 

I am sorry to have dropped by, and then disappeared.  Vanillaland has a way of drawing us back.  A dear friend has fallen quite ill and as the intermediary on her will, it is my cherished duty to care for her children until her next of kin, and other family members arrive from far away.  I will not be here for some time.  I apologize for my absence, but friendship is forever.  I will check in when I can, but most likely won't be able to stay for long.

I hope you all find fun, happiness and joy in the meantime.

dthKitten

Greetings,

Today is the first day of forever.  I apologize that my profile is a bit empty, I've only just begun working on my page here.  To answer that which is unasked, no, I do not have any other profiles in any other places.  It gets to be rather difficult trying to maintain persona in multiple places.  I prefer to be just myself and in only one place.  Second unasked question: pictures...  in addition to all the other things I do, I am also a medical professional.  Since the goal here is about locality, there are good odds that if I post my pic, I'll be recognized at some point.  My career means a great deal to me and my name means even more.  Attach either to my face and it's really something I must protect.  While I *do* know many doctors and specialists in the lifestyle, it's a well-respected and coveted piece of knowledge that not all respect and guard.  A few of us have had our lives turned upside down due to the unscrupulousness of shallow non-believers who partake more in the taboo than in the lifestyle.  Absolute discretion is my hallmark and a code which I never violate.

I am not a simple girl, I am a paradox.  I am the epicenter where yin and yang mix.  I am the fulcrum, and I'm the eye of the storm.  All duality in this world meets somewhere within me.  I am good and bad, light and dark, naughty and angelic, beautiful and ugly, pure and evil.  I am duality expressed.  I'm not insane, but I can be.  I can be both peaceful, and tumultuous.  As I emerge more complete, and more fully ME, I am better able to manage the riptide that is my soul.  I am better able to manage the anti-matter/matter mixture within me and be less destructive to others and to myself.  It has been a long road, and BDSM has been a part of my existence from the beginning, though I didn't know that what I am had a name.

I'm not certain I'm ready to be here, or anywhere. I'm a broken and hurting little kitty. Many that have reached out to me already know, but I like to be exposed so here goes: I was in a deeply committed covenant with a man who was 54 and the light in my world. He was my Master, my Daddy, my trainer, my love and my best friend.  He promised me many things, and swore his covenant that I was the light in his life, his one true, precious baby girl.  He didn't respect the gift of my submission.  He didn't respect the true value of a real woman's worth.  He didn't value me.  He didn't believe in me.  All that he had promised me, was empty.  Behind my back, he maintained several sexual partners.  While existing in a Daddy-D/s with me, he was actively seeking young girls that actually COULD have been his daughter.  He had many trysts.  The one that broke my spirit, was a 19 year old girl, a sailor, stationed at Pearl Harbor, HI who professed to all the world that she was a kept baby girl by a wealthy elderly man who visited her biannually.  If you consider "Uncle Sam" her "Daddy" then yes, she did have a sugar daddy.  Except the "condo" in which "he" kept her was more like the Navy barracks and the money he gave her was more like her standard military pay.  My Daddy soiled his body with this young whore.  Yes, by definition, she is a whore because she asks men for money to bed her.  I knew it the moment it happened.  Around the world, in CT, I sat up out of bed and vomited my guts out.  I knew the man in whom I'd confided all things had betrayed not only me, our covenant, but also himself.  She got pregnant through their tryst.  When she discovered that he was in a committed relationship, she was delighted to have torn it apart.  When he told her that she hadn't, and that I was his only precious one, and that she was nothing but a flash in the pan, she decided to publicly humiliate me.  She aborted his baby, a gift which he had promised to me.  In an ironic twist, when she reached out to me, to taunt and mock me, she called him by the wrong name. 

My love is vast an unending.  I do not and will not participate in NSA, not even online.  I'm an extremely passionate woman with a libido to match.  In fact, I have found that I outpace most in that regard.  I have many interests both in and out of the bedroom.  I believe that a healthy life in both locales is vital to every relationship and neither should suffer from neglect.  Because of the nature of play that I enjoy, NSA would leave it feeling empty and unfulfilling.  I'm no prude, not by any means.  I'm completely open-minded and open-hearted. 

Why do I wish I had been a woman in 1950s America?  My natural suiting is to be a domestic woman.  I'm extremely frugal and know how to find the best deals for the finest products.  I know my way around any kitchen, don't need a recipe book to make meals and there are few things I can't cook.  I cook a wide variety of cuisine including Italian, Japanese, Indian and American fare.  I'm no sommalier, but I do understand fine wines, and I know what I like.  I prefer a tidy house that is clean and decorated modestly; I prefer my house be a home, rather than a museum.  I have extensive experience in the arts, science, history, and culture.  I'm a woman that wears many hats.  In addition to being a medical professional, I am also a published author.  There are few jobs that I haven't done and few topics on which I couldn't converse.  Most of all, I wish to have a Master to adore and love and serve.  A true man of the castle who knows how to handle his business and knows how to handle me.  A Master who knows my strengths and allows me to soar.  A Master who knows my short-suits and never sets me up to fail. 

Most of all, I am a work in progress.  I'm ever evolving and learning.  I believe in continuing to learn and grow and shall until my last breath.