helenaHandbasqet


Helene Female Submissive, 43, Fort Myers, Florida	HelenaKyle Female Switch, 28, Howard County, Maryland	Heleneslut Transgender Submissive, 63, Linz

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	About helenaHandbasqet What you do speaks so loudly that I cannot hear your words. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson Please note: We all know that Life has funny ways of occasionally thwarting even the best of our plans. And right now, I can hear that Sadistic chuckle that signifies Life is in charge, and I won't be advancing my own agenda for awhile. So, please understand when I say that I'm not in a spot where I feel comfortable pursuing any type of relationship, other than possible friends. I'm here for chat only -- intelligent, humorous, entertaining chat. But I'm always open to meeting and experiencing new friends. : ) A little about me: First, I am a bbw. (I'm gonna repeat that, and type it slowly, because some of you seem to be blowin' through here so fast that you miss it.) I a m a b b w. If that bothers you, well, it's understandable. Most days it bothers me a bit, too (normally right about the time the arthritis in my hips decides to make its presence known). Second, I am submissive. (If this bothers you, you should probably stop reading right now, cuz it's only gonna get worse for you.) That doesn't mean I'm weak or incapable, or that I need to be fixed. It simply means I function best with another in charge, and with me serving his needs. (But I also have some views on what it doesn't mean. All that claptrap about my submission being a gift -- it's pure bunk. Maybe others view their submission that way, but to me, it's a need. My submission is half of a symbiosis, with his need to dominate completing the circle.) I have a slightly warped sense of humor, but I'm thankful for it. That ability to find humor in odd places has managed to get me through some tough times in my life. Those challenges have taught me patience, which I am also grateful for. And a little about that illusory "him": First, he'll understand that it's not about getting me to do what he wants. It's about getting me to *want* what he wants. If he can capture my mind, the rest is his, unconditionally. Second, he'll know that relationships don't just happen. They take a tremendous amount of work and constant communication, but if it's done right, you both can reap so much more than you sow. Third, he'll need to be someone I can look up to. He'll have principles and not be afraid to use them. He'll not only know right from wrong, but he'll know how to act upon it. In short, he'll have to possess some pretty extraordinary attributes: intelligence, wit, patience, morality, self-awareness, a desire to grow, an understanding of responsibility... and an innate need to lead. I know that's asking a lot. But he'll get a lot in return -- intelligence, wit, patience, morality, self-awareness, a desire to grow, an understanding of responsibility... and an innate need to follow. Oh, and I was born in fire and brimstone. So please don't try blowin' smoke up my skirt. It'll only waste my time -- and your breath.

Ok, enough's enough. I'm gonna place a personal ad in my local newspaper:

WANTED: one Dominant gentleman card player, who's better at online microstakes NLHE poker than I am (and I'm a fair hand). He'll need to use all of his tools to whip my as... errr game into shape. He'll also need the wisdom of Jesus (Ferguson), the courage of Daniel (Negreanu), the presence of Michael (Matusow) and the patience of Phil (Ivey). Willing to beg for lessons. Just ask for the Queen o' the Tarts.

(Oh, and since I play mostly No Limit Hold 'Em, I guess that'd make me a "no limit submissive". bahahaha)

Another new one -- two different names, two different ages, even two different cities. And the profile text is identical on the two, even down to the font and color. And he stresses that one should not "play games" with him. Evidently he prefers to play them alone.

And I wonder why I'm becoming cynical...

I am on a hunt for heroes. I hate to admit to it, but the truth is that I'm becoming cynical. I'm holding out hope, though, that somewhere in my universe there's a hero --

someone who's compassionate and conscientious,

who's courageous and capable,

who's decisive and determined,

who's trustworthy and tough,

who's intelligent and intuitive,

who's wise and wonderful,

someone who's self-disciplined and self-confident knowing he can and will do what needs to be done.

someone who's loyal and oh so lovable in his modesty.

I'm gonna start my search at the local VA. They could use the extra pair of hands, and I could use the humility. I hope it's a boon for both of us.

I find myself in a quandary, a particular spot I don't think I've ever been in before. I've no one to look up to.

It took me awhile to put a name to it, but now that I have, I realize it's a most unsettling feeling.

A man's character is what he does when he thinks no one is looking...

and when his penis isn't in his hand.

(Thanks to the joyful One for pointing that out to me.)

I'm not sure why, but the hankerin' to be back on the Crystal Coast has been very strong lately. Maybe it's the weather. Whatever it is, it doesn't seem to be letting up. There are moments when I swear I can smell the salt in the air and hear the seagulls cry. I miss my beach...

Sometimes I can be a wee bit dense...

A couple months ago, I received an email from someone on Collarme. I tried to respond to it, three times, in fact, but when I checked my "sent mail" folder, none of the attempts showed up. So I tried responding to him in my journal, but he misunderstood what I said there. And then he sent another email. I assumed Collarme's sprites were playing a trick on me, and that there was just some malfunction with the email that wouldn't allow me to send replies from my account to that one person. The only thing I could think of at that point was to create another account, for the express purpose of replying to him. I did that (the account was under helena2, and created a stir with someone else, but that's a different story), sent the reply, waited a few days (during which I made it clear in the journal entries there that the account was only temporary and had a very specific purpose for existing), then deleted the account.

Well, I just now received another email from the original fella. I wondered if maybe Collarme had perhaps fixed the problem with my email, and I attempted to respond to his message. It seemed to go through ok, but I just happened to glance up at the top of the email window... and noticed that in large, bold letters, it said, "This user has blocked you. Email was not sent."

Some days it just doesn't pay to try to be nice. lol

I think I'm gonna start a new business -- Rent-a-Dom/Rent-a-sub. I can use one business card, with the Domly-types' information on one side, and the submissiveness's on the other. Over the Domly side, the slogan would be, "Have Cane, Will Travel" and on the other side, "We come to you on bended knee, your command is our desire". No sex, of course, cuz in Illinois that would be illegal. (Maybe I'll have to move the enterprise to sunny Las Vegas, which would be cool, cuz then I could spend my nights indulging my own passion, bent over a table with others looking on -- playin' poker.) ; )

As a sideline, maybe I could also host a D/s matchmaking service. (Yes, naysayers, I'm completely aware that I've yet to make my own match, but it's always easier to work for someone else, than for yourself, no?)

I'll probably have to polish the business plan a bit, but I think I've got something goin' here... ~cough~

[gosh, but I'm feelin' cynical tonight]

Today's been a tough day. It's been stress-filled and pain-filled, and perhaps as a by-product of those, the need to submit has been so close to the surface that it's been hard to keep it in check. The need to just set it all aside and exist only to serve, to focus on another's desires, to hear only his voice, to feel only his touch, and to think only of his needs... to just be.

Some days I have to keep a very tight rein on it. Until it's time to give up that control to another, I need to make sure that the competent, independent, rational side of me is making the decisions, and not the emotional, submissive waif who needs to be dependent on another's dominance. Today those reins have been slipping through my fingers.

Every day, but especially this day, from the very bottom of my free and protected heart I'd like to thank each of you who has contributed to keeping it that way.

And to those of you who have lost a loved one who fought to keep us free, my most sincere condolences. As a nation, we are forever indebted to you for the sacrifice you have made.

May God bless and keep you.

In remembrance of those

who gave their all.

Just one step. I have to remind myself I don't need to plan the whole journey today, I just need to put one foot in front of the other. As soon as I top the next rise, I can take stock, figure out where I am, where I'm going, and maybe devise a plan on how to get there. But even if I can't do that much, I can still take that one next step...

After reading through some profiles this morning, all I can say is

"We're not in Kansas any more, Toto."

Please take a moment to thank a Veteran.

Their sacrifices paved the way for the freedoms we enjoy today... even the freedom to practice our kink.

It is the
VETERAN,
not the preacher,
who has given us freedom of religion.

It is
the VETERAN,
not the reporter,
who has given us freedom of the press.

It is
the VETERAN,
not the poet,
who has given us freedom of speech.

It is
the VETERAN,
not the campus organizer,
who has given us freedom to assemble.

It is
the VETERAN,
not the lawyer,
who has given us the right to a fair trial.

It is
the VETERAN,
not the politician,
Who has given us the right to vote.

Self-discipline. Is it really such a foreign concept?

I had an epiphany tonight. It occurred to me that it's been a very long time since I've felt safe. So I tried to think back to when the last time was that I did feel safe.

I was blessed as a child. Even though my parents divorced when I was very young (almost unheard of in those days), I grew up in a home surrounded by people who loved me -- my mother, my grandmother, an aunt, with frequent visits from another aunt and uncle who doted on me. I was an only-child, and the first grandchild. We didn't have a lot of money, so I wasn't spoiled with material things, but I had all the attention I could want and then some. I always felt safe and loved.

A few years later, when my mother remarried, we moved to a small town where my then-stepfather had been raised. And there, with the eyes of 650 townspeople upon me, I still felt safe.. In a setting like that, we didn't need a "Lassie". If I ever had fallen into an abandoned well, my parents would have been notified even before I'd hit bottom. I attended small schools (it took three neighboring towns consolidating, in order to make a high school graduating class of 99), and back then, the most dangerous thing I encountered was the night a handful of us decided to sneak into the local sportsmen's club and were nearly eaten alive by a swarm of mosquitoes while we were partying alongside the "lake".

I married at the tender age of 21, and my then-husband was 10 years my senior. I moved back to the small town where I had attended high school (only 5 miles from my hometown, where my parents still lived), so again, I felt as safe as could be. I divorced him when I was 35, but I had a wonderful support network in my family and friends, and my ex and I worked hard to maintain a friendship for the sake of our children. So even after moving to a new town and starting a new job, I still felt safe.

I think it all started to unravel when my ex suddenly and unexpectedly passed away, several years after our divorce. Then, within six weeks of his death, the relationship I had been in for two years ended rather suddenly. Looking back, I don't think I've felt safe since that time.

That all leads to the $64,000 question: What would it take to make me feel safe again? And I really don't know. I'll have to ponder that one.

To swampfox56:

My apologies. For whatever reason, CM isn't sending my response to your email (I've tried three times now).

Because of situations in my life the response was negative, but if you'd like details I'd be happy to post my email address for a short time, so I can convey the reasons directly to you.

Either way, I wish you the best.

helena

For a variety of reasons, I've taken some time away from the D/s "side" of life. I've tamped down those needs, tucked them away in the closet, and thought all was right in my world. And then they were reawakened. And now I'm finding I can't force them back into hiding.

I'm not sure what to do, how to handle this. My situation hasn't changed, so I still don't feel comfortable allowing those wants and needs free rein. But I'm starting to feel crippled by them, like they're leading me around, and that's not how it should be. In fact, it's been so bad that there have been days when I felt totally "out of control". I try to remember at those times to take a deep breath, calm down, and to face one issue at a time. But still I find myself back here, sniffing at the door, wondering what lies beyond...

Wow... so the person who I wrote about having 9 profiles on here... well, he's added at least 3 more. I sat and pondered this for a bit, and a few things came to mind:

1. I wonder if he's got a database set up to keep all the information straight. He'd probably have to, in order to keep from contacting the same woman 6 times under his various personas.

2. How do you keep that many nicknames and passwords separate? Another database?

3. How unbalanced does someone have to be to do this? Is he out among us, or is this like a weekend pass sort of thing?

4. Is this just someone who has absolutely no self-control and no sense of right or wrong (and as a Domly-type, wow, is that ever a disaster in the making!), or is it maybe a case of multiple personalities, and they don't even know about each other?

5. I dunno... I'm thinking that if he applied that much effort to something worthwhile, I bet he could figure out a way to bring about peace and put an end to world hunger!

Scary.

I have to giggle occasionally at the profiles I see on here. Girls (and I use that term very loosely), with "the heart of a twue slave" but the mouth and the attitude of a fish wife, who are looking for someone to control their lives, but who put so many restrictions and limitations on which emails they'll reply to, that you'd need an attorney to help you figure out if you fall in the "acceptable" category.

To those girls: So what if you have to go thru dozens of emails? They probably have to go through dozens like you to find a good one. Yeah, it gets a little annoying when you can tell someone's C&P'ing the same email to every female on here. If it's at least polite, what's the harm in answering back with a polite "No thank you"? I mean, come on. If you can't find the time to answer a few emails now and then, how are you ever going to find the time to actually serve a Master?

Seriously, get over yourself. You're submissive, or at least you claim to be. So stop acting like Attilla the Hun in heels. If you do find one that'll jump through all your little hoops and perform all your choreographed dance steps, we know who'll really be wearing the pants in that relationship.

Good grief. Top from the bottom much?

Bleh. Some days, people are just... bleh. There's really no other word for it. (Well, none that's acceptable in polite company, anyway.)

It's all about choices.

Today I choose to take one step forward. I don't have to make the whole journey, I don't even have to plan it. I simply have to take one step forward.

Just one step.

Damn, but I hate bein' lied to. And if you'll lie to me about things that just don't matter, how can I ever believe you about the things that do?

This evening I came across something that was very disturbing to me.

While I was meandering through some profiles, I started noticing a few that sounded very similar. So, I began digging... and paying attention.

There is one man (at least I assume he is a man) who has 9... count them, N-I-N-E separate profiles on here. Nine. And those are only the ones I saw easily. In all seriousness, that turns my stomach.

How many women (and men -- in a few of his profiles he is an equal opportunity lecher) is he stringing along at once? And just how mentally unstable does one have to be in order for this to seem like a good idea in theory, let alone in practice? Oh, and he is married. Anyone care to bet that not only does the lil missus not know, but that she would have his "nuts in a vice" if she did? Since he's willing to lie to those here, I don't know why it would surprise me that he'd be happy to lie to his wife, too. It's true that people who have no control in their lives will grab for it in any matter they can.

I have spent years working with the developmentally and mentally disabled. And this is a new height -- or maybe more appropriately, depth -- in my experience.

As a submissive I know how incredible it feels when you find someone who really seems to understand -- and accept -- you, especially that submissive part of you. But this guy demonstrates the fact that we have to be wary. Until we find one who has demonstrated his trustworthiness, we need to be diligent about guarding for our own safety.

I figured out a long time ago that there are plenty of idiots out there who just can not be trusted. But I made up my mind that I will not let their inadequacies turn me into a bitter, paranoid person, unable to trust anyone. Now, when I am becoming acquainted with new people, either out in the world, or here in this little corner of it, I believe what they tell me, until they give me reason to stop believing them. But I stay aware and alert. I pay attention to what they say, making sure their actions reflect their words. I remain on the lookout for inconsistencies. If I start to see a pattern, then I start handling things a little differently.

Nine profiles. Amazing...

ok... what's all the hullabaloo about "pushing your soft limits"? How are you gonna talk about pushing her soft limits if you don't even know what they are?? Maybe one of her soft limits is decapitation. Another might be looking like Pablo Picasso. Since you're all about pushin' those soft limits, your only decision would be whether you were gonna lop off her ear before or after you chopped off her head.

You really haven't figured it out yet? Then let me try to explain (and hope I'm not givin' our play book to the opposing team)... If you're doing it right (and if she's smart enough to have chosen well), then her only limits will be those lines you wouldn't cross anyway -- either because you find them distasteful, or because it would endanger her.

Goodness gracious, but I have no patience tonight! On nights like this, I'm sorta glad there's no Domly-type in my life. Cuz that whole "the beatings will continue until morale improves" thing? Just... ouch.

I am a student of life, and as an extension of that, I love reading profiles on here. But I have questions:

1. Why do so many people on here have multiple profiles? What purpose does this serve? (And wow... they even have different ages, heights, places of residence... I just don't get it. Why do people spend so much energy trying to be something they're not? If they spent half of it just trying to be better, they'd have so much to show for it, and there'd be no need for pretending. People just confuse me...)

2. Why do so many Domly-types feel a need to stress that they're "strict" or "firm"? And "cruel"? Are there really that many out there who respond to that sort of treatment? But is it really D/s if the submissive has to be brow-beaten to participate?

(Oh, and I'm still confused, and still trying to sort things out... so I'm still only looking for friends. Nothing more.)

As first mate to your Captain,
I bow to your command.
But when our seas grow troubled,
Do you depend upon my hand?

I promise you won't break me,
I'm much stronger than you think.
Nor will the chains which bind me,
When we've forged them link by link.

Can you let me work my magic,
To heal your spirit and your flesh?
Can you lead me through a lifetime,
Accepting sometimes I know best?

You praise me for my softness,
Will you scorn me for my strength?
You crave to see my back bowed,
What of the steel that runs its length?

I'm well aware that it takes all kinds... and that people being from all walks of life is what keeps things interesting. But I'm starting to think that a pretty high proportion of the people on here do their walking on the outer fringes of the galaxy.

A couple french fries short of a Happy Meal? Nawww... some of y'all are without the toy, even. ; )

I'm... confused. And trying to figure some things out. So while I'm always happy to make new friends, for now, that's all I can offer.

On the rutted road of life, my wagon broke an axle a while back. I was so overwhelmed by it that I just sat on the side of the road and let life pass me by. At that time, not only was I incapable of making the needed repairs, I couldn't even decide how to go about gathering the necessary materials. So, there I sat, while my oxen wandered away, my wagon deterioriated further, and I was barely even aware of what was going on around me.

While concentrating on what was wrong, I'd forgotten the most important thing -- what was right. I'd forgotten that while I did indeed have a broken axle, I still had so much to be thankful for. I still had a wagon, I had the oxen, I had friends and family who were all willing to help in any way they could. And I had my strong inner faith that tomorrow would come, and bring with it endless new possibilities. I'd forgotten how strong my will can be, how determinedly and single-mindedly I can pursue a goal when the need is there.

But now I remember. So, step smart or step aside, World. I'm comin' through.

Some days I can be such a dolt.

Or as someone told me recently, I'm "not the smartest tool in the shed." (Yeah, I laughed at the irony, too.)

Wow... do people not carry on a conversation just for the sake of conversing any more? I can remember, in my childhood, sitting on the porch with my family in the early evenings. Supper was done, dishes washed and put away, and we'd just sit and enjoy the evening air. Most evenings neighbors would drift over, or we'd wander down a door or two. Other times, we'd just sit on the porch swing, gently swaying and talking about the topics of the day.

Even in the small town I live in, people don't do that any more. And on here? It seems that two days is the extent for "conversations". Have we become a nation of MTV-bots? Three minutes, then on to the next diversion? How sad.

Sometimes the Universe is pretty blatant and "in your face" about what you're supposed to do. Other times, you gotta figure it out on your own. Usually, if I'm patient and observant, I can piece things together and come up with my next step. This time, however, I'm stumped.

Not only can I not figure out what I need to do, I can't even figure out how to figure out what I need to do. If this is some kind of karmic payback, all I can say is wow... I musta made a doozy of a screw up. And if it's a case of me just not getting the hint, I'm feeling about as dense as a lead weight.

It's frustrating and unsettling and unnerving and doin' a hell of a number on my self-confidence. icky.

I received an email tonight from a spiritual newsletter I susbscribe to. Like so many brilliant things, this one was truly amazing in its simplicity.

It began with a story about a little girl and her father, who were about to walk across a bridge in inclement weather. The bridge was swaying in the wind, and the father was worried about his daughter's safety. He said, "Sweetheart, how about you hold Daddy's hand?"

She looked up at him, with trust shining through her eyes, and replied, "No, Daddy. You hold my hand, please."

Confused, he asked her what difference it made.

As she clutched his hand, she answered, "Daddy, if something happens to me, I might let go of your hand. But if you hold my hand, I know for sure that no matter what happens, you won't ever let go of mine."

That... is the essence of trust.

(Please note that immediately after finishing this entry, I'll be speeding to my local maxillofacial clinic, to have my tongue surgically removed from my cheek.)

I've always been easily amazed, but I am truly astounded at the number of omniscient or clairvoyant Domly-types who are members of Collarme. I can't make up my mind if those abilities come when one declares one's Domliness (a bit like the set of eyeballs in the back of her head that a new mother is endowed with, and in which case, *all* Domly-types would have) or if it's just that Collarme attracts an inordinate amount of the number of Domly-types who have these attributes.

Whatever the case, I'm also amazed at the number of these clairvoyant or omniscient Collarme Domly-types who, after 5 minutes of glancing through my journal entries, and noticing the words "female" and "submissive" which have been provided on my profile, feel the need to accost me with their version of my "submissive heart", and then profess to understand me completely. If they were to stop there, I suppose there'd be no harm done, but they insist on going that one step further, and think they'll ride in and save the day. I'd like to use this platform (or more correctly, "soapbox") to inform them that 1) you're not Dudley Do-Right, 2) I'm not Nell Fenwick, and 3) there is no Snidely Whiplash. (And if you don't know who those characters are, why are you looking at the profile of a 48 year old woman, any way?)

Perhaps I should feel flattered, considering that they are taking the time to apprise me of my ineptitude in knowing myself, and my inability to comprehend my needs, thoughts and feelings, at which they are so much more adept. After all, I'm a female, I can't possibly be expected to think for myself.

However, either all submissive women on the planet are identical in their feelings and needs, or else the idea has completely escaped these all-knowing Domly-types that some women are intelligent and actually have adequate cognitive function with which to form a coherent thought, yet prefer to have a man in charge. Either way, it's not very flattering. But it is exhausting. It takes a lot of energy to fight my battles... and them.

thought for the day:

some people are like slinkies -- they're not really good for anything, but they bring a smile to your face when pushed down the stairs.

Another great sticker:

Automatic doors make me feel like a Jedi.

heh

I saw a sticker today that could not fit me better:

"It's not that I'm not a people person. It's just that I'm not a stupid-people person."

And another that fits pretty well, too:

"I don't have ADD. I'm just... Is that pie??"

And another that I just thought was funny (and in no way mean as an insult):

"If life hands you melons, you're probably dyslexic."

Something I've been mulling over for awhile now... do submissives have a shelf life?

People let us down. I'm beginning to think it's a given. They don't do what they said they were going to; they act in a way that's totally unexpected, and what you'd think is out of character for them; or they don't respond in a manner that's consistent with their past behavior.
What do you do when someone lets you down? Everyone has a bad day now and then, but if it happens continually, is it time to move on? Or perhaps it's just time to reassess our own standards?

As a mother, I was a firm believer in the old adage that "Children will live up to -- or down to -- your expectations of them." I've carried that with me, even as my "children" became adults. And I've found I carried it on to my other relationships, as well.

But I'm also finding that I'm increasingly disappointed in those with whom I interract. So, am I just holding the bar too high? Maybe it's not so much that they're letting me down, as it is I'm expecting too much?

As one who is a "fixer", who identifies a problem and works to find a solution, this has stumped me. I'm not even sure from which direction I should approach this problem.

I have to think that, since it's happening so frequently, and it's mostly been rather recent, that it's more my problem than the collective "theirs". Perhaps it's an unexpected result of some recent health issues I've had. If that's the case, then as the health issues begin to fade, might the disquiet, as well? Or, maybe it's a sign that I need to look deeper -- to look inside myself to see if my aggravation with others is more truly an aggravation with myself.

Whatever's at the root of the problem, I need to figure out a way to fix it. The aggravation is causing too much wasted energy that should be applied elsewhere.

As submissives, we are givers. We don't have to be convinced, coerced, cajoled, or courted. We usually don't even have to be asked. Giving, helping, serving is what we do.

But I think what most people don't understand is that it comes with a price. When we give, we're giving of ourselves. When we help, we're investing a part of us in those we're helping. And when we serve, we're giving much more than our assistance -- we're giving our trust, because at that point, all we can do is trust that it won't be abused.

I think submissives share more qualities than just a giving nature. I think as a whole, we tend to be more open, more accepting, more trusting. Sometimes, we manage to hide those qualities behind a wall or two, but they're still there.

And I think it's important to remember that to hide away those qualities, to deny them because of past hurts, is to give another victory to the ones who have harmed us.

I've had occasion in the past to think that I'm just too trusting, too naive, too gullible. But that's who I am, and frankly, I don't think those are bad attributes. If I lock them away, and turn a jaundiced eye to the world, it may protect me from some future hurt, but it will most definitely keep me from experiencing life and other human beings as I'm meant to experience them. And ultimately, who does that hurt?

So... bring it on, world. Use what you need, and leave the rest for the next person who comes along and has a need. I'll be hurt a time or two, but in the end, I'll come out far ahead. I may have a few battle scars, but I'll still be me, and I'll be able to hold my head high, knowing I did what was right -- for me.

I wish I could understand better where the need comes from, what drives it. These days I'm not even completely sure I understand exactly what it's a need *for*.

I just know there's this tightly-compacted, ball of need, deep in my gut. It's gotten so heavy lately. It's moved past mental and emotional. It's a physical thing now. I can *feel* it, deep inside, growing, getting stronger all the time.

In the past, during those times when it couldn't be assuaged, I'd just ride it out. If I kept busy, distracted myself, it would ease up in a day or two. That's not working now. Instead of letting up, it's gaining on me.

It's one thing to be consumed by need when it's appropriate. But now isn't... convenient. I just can't be eaten alive by it... not now.

I was talking to a very dear friend last night -- one of those rare, true friends, who knows me better than I know myself.

He was sharing some of his more comical insight into my likes, when I rather flippantly asked, "What else do I like?" His answer brought me to a dead standstill.

It was so blindingly simple, and yet carried more information than any other two words I can think of.

His reply -- "Looking up."

Pardon me, please, while I drag out my soapbox.

I am a submissive woman. To me, at its most basic definition, this means simply that I prefer to have another in charge. I function better when someone else is calling the shots.

But there is also something it does *not* mean to me. It does not mean I abdicate my sense of personal responsibility. I don't get to do whatever I want, secure in the knowledge that "I'm submissive, I'm not responsible for myself." I'm still responsible for my ideas of right and wrong. But on top of that, I'd be reponsible for his ideas of right and wrong, as well. To me, being submissive means I have to be more responsible, not less.

Being submissive isn't something I hide behind. And frankly, I'm tired of the whining of the ones who do.

I was right. Today *is* better.

Today's been a rough day. The pain has been just a couple shallow breaths away from unbearable. Not sure why today is different... maybe it's just that my tolerance is low.

And on top of the physical pain (or maybe because of it), the emotional ache today is almost overwhelming. To just be held, comforted and reassured... to be completely surrounded -- physically and emotionally. Just to know there's someone there. Sometimes just holding your head up takes every bit of energy you possess.

Tomorrow will be better.

A few nights ago, someone posed a question in open chat about the level of insecurity found in the BDSM "crowd". I didn't think much about it at the time, but it's popped into my head numerous times since then (oddly enough, every time I'm in a chat room).

I think first, you'd have to separate the online population from those who are not. I can only conjecture about the online group... but judging from the number of comments along the lines of "I am an expert at all forms of play," or "my boobs are the perkiest," or "My way is the 'twue' way," or "I am an owned slave" (as she continues to flirty shamelessly with anyone who will pay attention to her), I'd have to say yeah... the level of insecurities is frighteningly high.

I think if you feel you have to *tell* me what a strict Master you are, or what a perfect slave you are, then you probably aren't. I also think that maybe you're not trying to convince me, as much as you're trying to convince yourself.

Some words are so powerful, that they just bear repeating...

"What you do speaks so loudly that I cannot hear what you say."

~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Sam the sheepdog. The quintessential Domly-type. He was always steady and dependable. The care of his flock was his main concern. He was strong, decisive, intelligent, alert, attentive, consistent, brave, enterprising, fair, honest, just, loyal, patient, practical, responsible, wise, and self-disciplined. Sam the sheepdog was a born leader.

http://davidakin.blogware.com/blog/_archives/2008/8/27/3857660.html style="MARGIN: 3px" height=104 alt=http://davidakin.blogware.com/blog/_archives/2008/8/27/3857660.html src="http://www.google.com/images?q=tbn:9FQMgf59zKDLCM::davidakin.blogware.com/200808271106.jpg" width=136 align=middle border=1> Sam. My hero.

Whether you're male, female... friend, lover, or more... there are really only three, very simple, things I would ask of you:

     1. Be who you say you are.
     2. Do what you say you're going to do.
     3. Be sane.

I can figure out the rest from there.

I'm really a pretty simple woman -- I don't need to be impressed. Or, maybe it's just that I'm very easily impressed.

I don't need mansions or jewels. I could live in a shack, but as long as it was filled with love and respect, with genuine affection, I'd feel like I was living in the most elaborate palace. Put a simple ring on my finger, or a chain around my neck, do it out of love, and I'd feel like I was outfitted like the Queen, Herself.

I don't need to be entertained or pampered. I just need to know I'm wanted. Being needed is good, but I can make a spot for myself, to fulfill that. I just need to know that I'm wanted for who and what I am... for me -- foibles, faults and all.

I don't need to be amazed. Just looking out the window each day will take care of that.

I don't need to be shocked. I can get that from any newspaper.

I don't need Adonis. Shrek is fine for me. No matter what he looks like, if I love him, he'll be precious to me. And I won't come to love him because of his looks. (Heck, I think Yoda is one of the sexiest characters ever!)

I don't need Donald Trump. As long as we have money for the necessities, and a little extra for emergencies, I'll be content.

I don't need Albert Einstein. I need to be challenged occasionally, but it's not all that difficult to stay a step ahead of me.

I don't need elaborate, expensive, expansive, or even ebullient. I just need genuine, dependable, steady, and self-aware. I'll take the tortoise over the hare any day.

I do need a man I can respect, one who has morals and isn't afraid to use them. I do need a man who not only knows right from wrong, but knows how to act upon it. I do need a man who undersands that the intricacies of a relationship, if handled correctly, are enough to keep us occupied the rest of our lives.

Of course, he'll need to have a desire to lead. But he'll also understand that it doesn't come in a vacuum. He's not entitled to lead, any more than I'm entitled to be led. It comes with a price.

I do need a man who understands that "the beautiful thing about a romantic relationship is that love isn't found or fallen into -- it is co-created. We don't find love. We find one another and allow love to grow between us."

I do need a genuine, down-to-earth kinda guy, who realizes there's more of a difference between online and the real world than a slightly distorted view on a pixellated screen.

But I'm beginning to lose hope.

It's official.? I am a student again.? It's been so long, I'd forgotten how much fun it is.? The sense of applying oneself to a problem, of pushing the boundaries to expand oneself, of exercising one's brain -- and knowing it's all for a very specific, very worthwhile purpose...? it's awesome!? : )

I finished a book today, The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. When I began the book, I thought it would be a perfect summertime read -- light, fun, entertaining rather than compelling. It turned out to be anything but.

I started the second book in the series this morning, while waiting for some important business to be conducted. Each chapter begins with a quotation, some famous, some rather obscure. So far, two in particular have caught my attention, almost to the point of obsession.

The first, in the first book, is from Ralph Waldo Emerson: "What you do speaks so loudly that I cannot hear what you say." This one speaks for itself, but I think it's something we frail humans tend to forget all too easily.

The second quotation, near the beginning of the second book, is one that surprised me with its insistence on being "noticed".

The quote is from Nelson Mandela: "There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered."

This one is very forthright in claiming its importance to me. I've just yet to figure out how that importance will manifest itself.

Another quote I found years ago... and which has recently floated to the surface:

"To love the one who loves you, to admire the one who admires you, in a word, to be the idol of one's idol, is exceeding the limit of human joy; It is stealing fire from heaven." ~Delphine de Girardin

While looking for something else, I stumbled upon this amazing gem of wisdom. (Isn't that the way it often works, though?)

"The beautiful thing about a romantic relationship is that love isn't found or fallen into -- it is co-created. Yet there are countless people who search for love as if it belongs to someone else. We don't find love. We find one another and allow love to grow between us."

Maybe our grandparents and great-grandparents were on to something after all.

I'm embarking on a new life's journey soon. It's gonna take all the grit and gumption and focus and energy and faith and determination I can find within myself. But wow... the payoffs will be HUGE!

I kinda feel like a snake, moulting. I'll need to shed some skins I've let others dress me in. The sloughing off is a scary process, especially for one who likes to know what to expect. What if I shed too much? Or if one especially obstinate layer won't fall away? Will the loss of the skins be as gradual and insidious as the donning of them was? Or will it be a more sudden jerk, perhaps a bit painful, but over quickly?

I found this quote years ago... it's still one of my favorites.

"A boy doesn't have to go to war to be a hero. He can say he doesn't like pie, when he sees there's not enough to go around."

I needed a laugh this mornin', so I went looking and found these gems of wisdom... (The page I found them on had no names attributed to the quotes, so unfortunately, I can't give credit where credit is due. May the gods of plagiarism have pity on my soul...)

Do monomaniacal paranoid schizophrenic agnostic dyslexic insomniacs lie awake at night wondering if they might *be* the dog that's out to get them?

Hubris is stealing the fire of the gods. Chutzpah is offering to sell it back.

Internet chatting will whittle away precious hours of your life on conversations so inane and so ungrounded in reality it makes Pauly Shore seem erudite and entertaining. (My apologies to Mr. Shore, but it was too good to not include here.)

Are there any "normal" people out there?

There are many walls surrounding my garden. Some are there for good reason, serving to keep out those who would do harm to my precious plantings. Others do little more than keep me prisoner in my garden; these I am striving to dismantle from the inside.

Nonetheless, the walls stand.

Please do not think to storm my walls, nor to parachute into my sanctuary. Attempting to do so will only result in my taking a defensive position to protect what I hold dear. Instead, allow me invite you into my garden, so I can share with you the bounty to be found there.

Each of my walls also has a gate. Be patient, allowing me to learn I can trust you, showing me that you understand the value of the tender shoots I am growing and the old growth I am maintaining, and I will gladly open the gates for you. Take the time to explore each new area as it is discovered, before rushing to breach the next wall. You may find you have no wish to advance, or that you wish to retreat completely. Or you may find a desire to delve more deeply, to wander the paths and closely examine each variety to be found.

Not all plots in my garden are beautiful, sunlit patches of bright colors and intriguing scents. Some are dark and secret, harboring plants that can be harmful if handled incorrectly. But all of these plants exist together, dependent on one another, to comprise a garden that is uniquely mine, unlike any other to be found.

Please accept that as keeper of my garden, while I am a submissive woman, I am also an intelligent woman -- one who is sufficiently self-aware enough to know what makes my garden flourish. Also, please understand that I tend my garden conscientiously. I add new varities and discard old ones, after careful consideration as to how this will affect the garden as a whole.

I'm headed back to Illinois soon -- my home for the first 43 years of my life. I have very mixed emotions about this move, even though it may well only be temporary.

I'm needed back there. Dad needs my help, and there's no decision to be made about whether or not I give it. You do what has to be done for family. After he's back on his feet, I'll decide if I'm staying in the bosom of my family, or headed back to the warmer climes of coastal North Carolina.

It'll be good to see my family again -- the last time was two years ago, for my mother's funeral. I have a little healing to do, physically and emotionally, and what better place to do that, than surrounded by people who love you? And if I can do my healing, while helping Dad with his needs, then I can't really feel bad about this leg of my journey.

Oh, but I'll miss North Carolina. I love it here -- the people, the climate, the pace, the scent of the salt air, even the noisy seagulls.

And this is the first time I've truly been on my own. It hasn't been necessarily a resounding success, but I have learned a lot about myself.

I've learned I'm much stronger than I ever thought I was (and I always thought I was a pretty strong person). I've learned I'm incredibly resilient. I've learned more about my needs, my wants, and the differences between them. I've learned even more humility. I've learned that acquaintances really aren't the same as friends. I've learned to be happy with a lot less. I've learned it really is better to be alone, than to wish you were. And I've learned that no matter how badly you might want something for someone else, it's not going to happen until they want it for themselves, too.

Maybe if I keep an open mind, I'll learn even more back in Illinois.

While perusing a profile, I found this quote:

"Where the heart is willing, it will find a thousand ways; where it is unwilling, a thousand excuses."

Words to strive by...

(Thank you, SirRah, for allowing me to borrow from you.)

I'm a lil confused about something. Well, I'm a lil confused about a lot of things, but this one thing bothers me quite frequently. Why do girls like to brag about their punishments?

I see so many pop into a chat room, and begin to talk about their sore bottom, or how they need to sit on a cushion, or how they "really pissed him off this time". Evidently the pain itself wasn't much of a punishment, and I've run across a few who even wore the marks as a badge. If she's proud enough of the spanking to brag about it to her friends, was it really effective? The next time she's in need of something to make her feel her status is elevated, is she going to intentionally repeat the mistake, knowing what the outcome will be? If so, who's really in charge here?

I enjoy a good spanking as much as anyone, and more than most, I'd guess. But if it came at the cost of his respect, of his pride in me, I don't think I'd enjoy it at all.

If I disappointed him so severely that he had to take me across his knee in punishment, you can bet I wouldn't be bragging about it to my friends. I'd be hanging my head in shame, working to fix the mistake, and trying to make sure it didn't happen again.

This nickname came about years ago, late one night when I was sitting in a chat room. It was a dark and dreary night in the world of chat, and I thought to myself, "Wow, chat's sure gone to hell in a handbasket."

In the early days of chat, things were different -- you didn't have to search high and low for intelligent chat, it was just there; and you could believe what someone told you, as chat wasn't seen as an alternate universe where people went to live a life they didn't dare enter into once the computer was turned off.

Now, though, I'm beginning to wonder if I don't come to chat to feed my masochistic side...

Thank God for that small minority that make it worthwhile. (And you most assuredly know who Y/you are... I make it plain enough!)

I came to a sad realization tonight -- when I'm hurt, or have my trust misused, I tend to pull around me the fear that comes out of it. It's almost like a much-loved, well-worn comforter, and I snuggle into it, revelling in it, actually.

It serves a dual purpose, I think. It keeps me warm, safe and snuggly inside, and also serves as a buffer to keep the world out.

I suppose it makes sense. When we're injured, we tend to follow our animal instincts, and draw back into ourselves, conserving strength for the healing process.

But there has to come a time when we consciously throw off that comforter, when we make the decision to venture forth again -- when we take what blame is rightfully ours, assign that which should be rightfully placed elsewhere -- and suck it up. ~grin~

It's time for me to suck it up.

Now I remember.? ~smile~? It's like they teach you in Poker school -- you can't lose what you don't put on the table.? Damned if I don't forget that occasionally.

Why do we fear that which we most want? Is it some masochistic desire to deny ourselves? Maybe we don't feel we're worthy of the fulfillment of our wishes? Or is it simply fear of the unknown?

I can see it -- the culmination of all my hopes and dreams. If I'd made out a checklist of the things I needed, and another of the things I wanted, every single one of them would be checked off. And yet I still stand back, hungering, but afraid to take that step.

I consider myself a logical being. As I've grown older, my head has taken charge, shunting my heart off to the side. Maybe that's not the ideal solution, but it's my reality for now. But how illogical it is to allow fear to keep me from what I feel is the best thing that could happen to me!

I guess in the end, it will come down to finding out if I'm brave enough, strong enough, to reach out for what I want, for what I need. It'll come down to finding out if I'm the intelligent, logical woman I believe I am, or if I'm just a scared little girl, still too nervous to confront those ghosts from her past.

I found a quote on a different site the other day -- I think it pretty well sums up how I see "His" place in my life:

"As the old Irish woman said of her husband, 'Himself is a good head to me.'"

Together we make up one body. I'm the emotional, empathetic, "feeling" part -- the heart, so to speak. He's the logical, reasoning, practical part -- the head. Neither functions well alone, but together, we can conquer worlds.

A short time back one of the submissives in a room made a comment that has been echoing around in my head since then... "I'm just a regular girl lookin' for a regular guy."

Sure, he'll have to possess some pretty extraordinary attributes: intelligence, wit, patience, morality, self-awareness, a desire to grow, an understanding of responsibility... and an innate need to lead.

I know that's asking a lot. But he'll get a lot in return -- intelligence, wit, patience, morality, self-awareness, a desire to grow, an understanding of responsibility... and an innate need to follow.

Anything else is just icing on the cake. But I do have a fondness for sweet stuff. ; )

Evidently today is going to be one of those "insight days". It's barely past noon, and I've already had an epiphany, come to a realization that quite surprised me, and another I should have thought of some time ago.

I didn't accept my submissive nature easily. (Actually, I kinda kicked and screamed while I was grappling with who and what I am.) But once I accepted my nature, and learned to embrace my submissiveness, I believed that I chose who I am submissive to. Today, some thoughts crystalized, and I realized that just isn't true.

I am submissive. It's my nature to give, with little (and sometimes, no) regard to what it costs me. I am naturally submissive in all my encounters with others. If I need to get somewhere, and come across someone who needs a lift, my destination is put aside. If I have plans to go out for an evening of much-needed entertainment and a friend calls needing my time, the entertainment is forgotten. It goes beyond civility and manners. It's a bone-deep need to help, to serve.

I don't choose who I am submissive to. However, I can at will, overcome those natural submissive tendencies. And I can choose who I do that with. It's a real struggle for me, though. Even though I know a particular situation would most likely not benefit me in the long run, my tendency is to acquiesce, if I can provide some service for the other(s) involved. It seems my need for self-preservation is superseded by my need to be of service. At times, I actually have to fight against my nature to get them back in the proper perspective.

If I seem a bit prickly at times, it's due to that inner struggle. It's hard enough to deal with the battle between one's wants and one's needs. It's doubly difficult when two needs are in contention with each other.

The realization that surprised me turned out to be interesting... fun even, for me. I'm a little on the claustrophic side, so blindfolds have never been one of my favorite things. However, at times, I've considered something over my eyes as a necessary evil. I have occasional migraines, and light is very painful then. So, a cloth over my eyes helps block out any light. Also, I usually don't go to bed until after sunrise, which means my room is pretty bright. Rather than hang blankets over my windows, I have an old, soft black t-shirt that I drape over my eyes. Last night I crashed early, going to bed while it was still dark, which meant I didn't need the t-shirt. I laid down, covered up, got comfy... and realized I was craving that t-shirt over my eyes. How odd for me!! I've gotta think about that one a bit...

The last realization was long overdue. My life has undergone some pretty drastic changes in the last few months. Some endings, some beginnings, some shiftings... All led me to some deep thinking and reprioritization of my goals. My profile here didn't reflect that, so I placed a quick "band-aid" on it. There was a short disclaimer at the beginning, informing any who cared to read, that I'm only looking for interesting, intelligent chat, a few laughs, and if I'm lucky, a new friend of two. However, the rest of the entire profile waxed poetically about the man I hope to find.

Well... I still hope to find him. But for right now, my energies need to be concentrated in other areas. In addition to the personal issues I'm dealing with right now, I'm about to add another, more pressing one. My older son will return here from Texas soon, and will need my help putting his life back in order, in "getting back to himself". He has to take precedence for the time being, which means I have even less energy to devote to my issues.

Most importantly, *I* need to remember why I'm here, at least my current reasons. That means I must keep in mind, in all my dealings, that I'm here for fun, to provide a release and, with the help of a few, important friends, to maybe re-energize a bit.

I guess my profile should reflect that, as well.

A wise friend told me the other day that I need to "get back to me". The instant I read his words, I knew he was speaking the truth. I don't know just where I wandered off my path, and after a conversation today, I'm not sure it matters. But I need to find my way back on course.

It's human nature to lose one's way occasionally. I don't think any of us have the cognizance necessary to never wander off the path. But it's got to be sheer will that enables us to look up, take our bearings, and figure out just how to trek back on our designated course.

Now where'd I put that compass...

I was still awake this morning at sun-up, and decided to take my cup of tea out to meet the day. The birds here don't seem to ever go to sleep, but this morning I could hear them with a new appreciation. They were greeting the day, too. I felt a calmness, a sense of acceptance, that I've been sorely missing lately. I can't imagine a better way to welcome a new day.

While I was out there, I realized just how fortunate I've been in my life. In my darkest moments -- those times when I've exhausted my ability to keep things together -- when I've finally admitted I can't do it alone, without exception help arrives. Whether it's an unexpected phone call from a voice from my past, or an "extra pan of lasagna" brought by a cooking-fanatic friend, or even a shoulder rub during a stressful moment, a helping hand has always materialized out of thin air, and been just what I needed.

And the people who have either glided into my life, or been patient when I stumbled into theirs, have been another gift. Without fail, they've come at a time when I needed what they brought. Sometimes it was that pan of lasagna, other times a lesson sorely needed, but every time the exchange benefitted me beyond imagining. I only hope they were able to benefit from it as well.

If it's true that there are no coincidences, then what an amazing, magical, mystical thing life is!

I'm reminded that an ending is a difficult thing. Even when you see it coming, and you know it's for the best, it's still a difficult time -- a time of taking inventory, to see what needs to be replenished, what needs to be replaced, or what needs to be thrown out; a time of adjustment from the old to the new; a time of grieving for the lost, and for what might have been.

But it's also a time for being thankful for what was, and for what is. It's a time to step back, put things in their proper perspective, and figure out what lessons needed to be learned. It's a time to understand that you wouldn't be "here", if you hadn't come from "there".

And then you can look forward to figuring out where to go next...

I had an interesting conversation this evening with someone whom I admire on several levels.  When you admire and respect someone's opinion, you give their comments a bit more weight than some others. You understand that those conversations are worth replaying, like a favorite movie. Every time you watch it again, you pick up something else you missed before, something to make you think...

In that way that interesting conversations have, it nudged open a few doors, pushed back a wall or two, and might have even raised the roof of my mind an inch or two.   The conversation snaked its way through a lot of mental rooms, but in replaying that conversation, my mind, in its convoluted manner, managed to rummage around in a couple of rooms I'd nearly forgotten I had.

Since I finally embraced my nature, I've understood that my submissive tendencies don't confine themselves to the bedroom, or even to the home. I am submissive. It's not what I do, it's who I am. I'm other things, too -- a mother, a daughter, a friend, an employee, even a boss. But those things are colored by my being submissive.

Sometimes, though, in those other roles, I have to push to the side that submissive in me. Being a single parent and a submissive wasn't an easy mix. Being a daughter of a dying mother and going against my father's wishes in her care was very difficult.   Over the last few years I've had to work very hard at subduing that submissive "girl" inside of me.

In fact, I've worked so hard at keeping her aside, I'd forgotten some of the joys of being submissive -- the relief of handing over your control to one who you trust to assume the mantle; the energy of the give-and-take between one who craves the taking of control and one who aches to give it over; the security of knowing someone understands what you need, and that they don't judge your for it; the heart-pumping thrill of standing at the edge, looking into the depths... and then leaping off to soar through the clouds.

I thank God every day that He made me who and what I am.

I've found the ache hits at the strangest of times. I just stepped outside for a few moments. There's a gentle but steady rain falling. I was nearly brought to my knees by the ache to just be sitting on a porch, snuggled deep into that elusive "him", watching and listening to the rain. I can feel him. When will I be able to touch him?

Let's keep this simple --

Things you can expect from me in a first chat:
1. Intelligent conversation
2. Humor
3. Courtesy, in exchange for same
4. Honesty (I may decline to answer a question, but if I do answer, you may rest assured it's an honest answer.)
5. Intolerace for stupidity (ignorance I can handle -- that just implies a lack of knowledge. You have to work at bein' stupid.)

Things you shouldn't even dream of getting in a first chat:
1. My calling you "Sir", "Master", or any of the derivatives associated with them. Those are earned titles. They can't be earned in three minutes.
2. Blind obedience. This comes from trust, and like respect, it's gotta be earned.
3. Cyber (Again, this has to be earne.... errrr, wait. No cyber. Period.) ; )

Helios Male Dominant, 27, Ontario	HellsAngel Female Submissive, 43, Madison, Indiana	hellishdomme Dominant Couple, 40, Norfolk, Virginia	hellMynameispa Male Dominant, 46, salem, Massachusetts
hellokitty Female Submissive, 35, NYC, New York	helloscarolina Female Dominant, 44, sumter, South Carolina	HellMetalMaker Male Switch, 23, Nashville, Tennessee	HELP Male Submissive, 52, HUDSONVILLE, Michigan
Helix Dominant Couple, 44, San Leandro, California	Hellnation13 Male Dominant, 21, Carson, Nevada	Hellfire Male Dominant, 47, Jersey Shore, New Jersey	Helterheart Male Submissive, 21, westminster, California

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