Archive for October, 2009

I get daily messages from the universe on weekdays…

… and I usually don’t like them that much. Too fuzzy, too new age, too happy happy joy joy, too “the secret”. But a few days ago, the universe hit the spot:

Life is not what you see, but what you’ve projected. It’s not what you’ve felt, but what you’ve decided. It’s not what you’ve experienced, but how you’ve remembered it. It’s not what you’ve forged, but what you’ve allowed. And it’s not who’s appeared, but who you’ve summoned.

And this should serve you well, beloved, until you find, what you already have.

The Universe

(when I told they boyfriend I get emails from the universe, and asked him if he knew about the secret, he looked at me weirdly and asked if I had been brainwashed by a cult)


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Fantasies of submission in the early morning.

The alarm woke me, but I was not ready to wake up yet. So I turned it off, and made myself comfortable under my warm blanket again. I dozed off in between little arousing bdsm-ish fantasies…


Fantasies? Arousing ones even? Where I did not push the arousal away immediately?  That had been a while…

And still they were there, in my state of half sleep. Of kneeling when coming in my dominants house. Of being used as a footstool while being fucked by someone else. Of worshipping those feet even. Of humiliation and feeling submissive.

*happy fuzzy feelings*

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Let’s call her Dropje then.

It would be the first time we spent more than one afternoon or one evening together. She would arrive on friday, we’d meet at the BiCon itself and she would stay at my place for the following two nights.

There had been extensive flirting. Of writing all too obvious messages at internet-fora. And petting my hair. Which might also fall on the header of flirting, now that I think of it.

There was also friendship. A new friendship, just a few months old, but growing deeper and deeper under whatever friendship grows under. The  similarities go further than just the patterns of hair-growth.

The first night consisted of sleeping, and the second night as well. What happened in between those nights was a whole lot of fun. There was getting to know new persons, persuading a guy to wear heels for first time, there was lots of talking about everything in the world and more. There was also kissing and cuddling and closeness. And hitting (on?), although I was not the person being hit.

There was another girl besides Dropje, and she and I and she had a good time on a mattress in the dark room. It was safe and secure, and there were boobs (the consequences of them, and would you like to make love about it?), and I was able to set my boundaries and they were abided by.

The friendship did not change, will not change, or at least, not because of this. There is love, and there will be love, and all will be good in the end.

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New banner!

The title says it all. I felt a  bit crafty today, and this idea had been in my head for a while. I am quite happy how it turned out!

So all people looking now, and all people who read me trough blog-syndicate-programs and who have now clicked to the “real” page to check it out: what do you think?

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Progress comes in tiny little steps.

Yesterday I had a nice talk with my sexologist. The past times I felt that we talked to much about my polyamorous feelings and how to embed this in my relationship with the boyfriend. Like I said before, this is not necessary for me, I can (and have) work that out by myself just fine.

This time we were more to the point. We talked about that penetration means (almost) instant crying for me, and that I don’t allow myself to become aroused. The first thing I have mentioned before, but the latter I did not really realize until recently.

At the BiCon (of which I have been planning to write about for ages now, but real life kept getting in the way) there was a workshop in which erotic stories were read or told. Especially one of the stories, the first one, about a women who woke up having a penis and used it actively the whole day, was very arousing. I noticed I tend to push the arousal away, did not allow it, the second it started to come up: this was almost automatically. Because the environment there was quite safe (nothing was bound to happen, and I had a nice girl with me, (a good friend of which more will be told next time, who still needs a good name for on this blog, any suggestions anyone?). I actively allowed myself to feel aroused a bit. This did not work the whole time, but the little bits and pieces felt very liberating nonetheless.

We also made some plans. I am going to try penetrating myself with my fingers or a vibrator out of the context of masturbation (where I would usually do this, and then discover the tears were still there) and to try to completely feel and accept the sadness . When masturbating there are conflicting interests at stake (having an orgasm or intense negative emotions: you guess what wins).

We talked less about the arousal-problem. I think this is something I have to re-learn: to actively allow myself to feel aroused again. First when I’m alone, later when I’m with the boyfriend or with others.

I do feel there has been progress, and I hope this will continue. Sometimes I see little glimpses of who my sexual self was, and hopefully will be, and she seems to be a very interesting person.

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From the land of metaphors: the wave.

I talked about the wave before. Right now, I’m on it. Quite stable, actually, although I almost fell of this afternoon. I started to feel stressed about the busy week that is coming up. A few deadlines for my experiment, articles I have to edit, events I’m volunteering for, friends I’m going to see…

But then I did some meditation, had good food, did some preparation for next week (like making sure my mailbox is empty, that always makes for a good start), and watched about three Gilmore Girls episodes (I’m in season 4 now. Again ;)). I was already relaxed after the meditating, but the rest of the evening filled my battery again, so I next week can be as filled as last week was, without me collapsing.

Because I can. I can work 6 to 8 hours a day at university. I can do two volunteer jobs, and even do some extra stuff for an organization for bisexuality. I can see many people, and have intense interactions with friends, without having to recover a lot.

It’s my wave, I’m moving quickly, but I’m still stable, and capable of pulling myself up again when I start slipping. I know the dangers, where the sharp rocks are, where I can get stranded on a sandbank. But I’m still on here, I’ve learned, I’ve grown, and I feel better than ever.

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