Virginity is something I never really put a lot of emphasis or value on. It wasn’t the big deal to me that it seemed to be to others. I wasn’t promiscuous early on, by any means, and I didn’t treat it like it didn’t matter, but to me, virginity was just a fact, not something to be treasured.

I still remember the first time I had sex. My then boyfriend and I had spent months convincing our fathers to take us to a concert. He lived around six hours away, so when they finally said yes, it was amazing. We’d finally get to be around one another again, and we’d get to see one of our favorite bands. What more could a fifteen or sixteen year old want! Somehow, I convinced my parents that sharing a room would make more sense, to this day I’m not even sure how I did it. It was one of those joint rooms where you had a kitchen and living room, then two bedrooms off of it.

We were typical teenagers in the sense we were careful what we did with each other in front of our parents. I remember before the concert we had all gone out to supper, and he was holding my hand and touching my leg under the table. I was almost vibrating with excitement on the way to the concert. At one point, we were alone in the car, and I had an internal struggle about whether or not I could get away with jumping him before anybody else came back. At the time, it felt like the best night of my life, like nothing could get better.

Fast-forwarding through a lot of boring details and groping during the concert (we were left alone), we got back to the hotel room and the parents had gone to bed. Even now I have no idea what the hell we were thinking. We ended up having sex on the couch with nothing but a thin wooden door and luck stopping my father from finding us.

I think I had a fairly average first time for somebody who was kinky and didn’t know it yet. He and I are still friends, and he tells me off and on that it was the best sex he’s ever had. I bite my tongue and fight hard not to tell him “I’m so sorry for you!”, because it wasn’t good. It wasn’t even close to good, really. With the excitement and electricity I felt when he touched me at the concert, I thought it would be amazing. In the end, though, it totally fell flat. I did enjoy sucking him off, but that’s about all the enjoyment I got out of it.

For another girl’s first time, I’m sure he would have been great. He was gentle and slow, and always made sure I was okay. Now, years later, I know why I was laying there staring up at the ceiling tiles wondering when the last time they cleaned them was. I had spent hours thinking about this moment, fantasizing how gentle and sweet he would be. As it turned out I like things rough. I’m kinky; I need dominance and overpowering in my sexual encounters, or I’m just not into it. Even just biting and pinning is enough. Straight vanilla sex, though, it just doesn’t do it for me.

It’s not his fault, of course, neither one of us knew that I was kinky at the time. I thought being totally bored and unsatisfied was average for the first time when you didn’t know what you were doing. The only time I really felt anything good out of the sex was with the first thrust, where it hurt a tiny little bit. I liked that.

Now, years later, I’m with somebody that can make my knees buckle with just a text. Sex has gotten so much better now that I know what I want, and what I like. As far as regretting my first time… I’m not sure. It wasn’t good; I wasn’t satisfied; the relationship was a wreck and completely unstable and emotionally and mentally abusive. I thought I loved him, though, and it seemed right. So, I’m not sure. I don’t think I would undo it if I could, just because it helped teach me what it is I like. The relationship taught me what it is I don’t want. I don’t think I regret it even if it was bad, and one of the dumber things I’ve done.

There are things I would have changed, though. Now I would for sure make him wear a condom. I wasn’t even on the pill at the time. I relied on plan B that a friend had given me, and got really lucky. That was beyond stupid, but it was better than nothing. Neither one of us had access to condoms, which is why I do believe that schools should be allowed to give them out in health class. Not having them doesn’t stop people, it just makes them take more risks. I don’t think I would have had sex about ten feet from both our fathers, with nothing but a thin wooden door between us that they could have opened at any minute either. Finally, I’m not certain whether I would choose that night again. I will now forever have tickets to the night I lost my virginity, even if that particular “after party” was a dud.

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When I first started in this BDSM lifestyle, everybody was telling me to be safe, to only play with those that have references, and essentially bombarded me. I spent weeks, and possibly months, reading article after article about how to play without being hurt. I learned there are several places you should never hit or cause trauma to, that you absolutely need aftercare, and that you absolutely, without a doubt, need a safe word. Then, I’d close the window and find another site that said the exact opposite of the previous one. I learned nothing. My learning process started when I found blogs, intensified when I found my first “master,” and continues to this day with my owner.

These information inconsistencies are well known. My point is that there is an aspect of being owned and living this lifestyle 24/7 that nobody tells you about at first. There’s a dangerous aspect that nobody discusses with new subs, and it can be downright terrifying and wondrous. When you are owned, (and I am going by what has happened to me and those I know) your master has access to every single inch of your mind and body, and he changes it as he sees fit.

Let that sink in.

It sounds absolutely ridiculous, right? Somebody cannot change the way you think, the way you function; you’re your own person after all. To an extent you’re right, mostly though… it’s wrong. When you’re owned you’re OWNED. You may get say in things and be able to do all the things you used to, but you are owned, and to MOST people that means you aren’t your own person anymore. That? Is the trivial definition part. The important part here takes months, years, and decades to accomplish.

To me, the dangerous part of BDSM has nothing to do with physical play, and has everything to do with emotional and mental safety. It took years, but eventually my owner tore down every wall I had, one brick at a time. I still have those walls, he simply replaced each brick he took down and walled himself in. Everything I am, do, think or say he knows, listens and manipulates as he sees fit. That’s just my reality. The scary part is when he no longer needs to correct me, to sit and tweak things I do or say to his liking. The scary part is that I’ve been consumed so thoroughly, that I have internalized his ownership, his wants, and his wishes that I now do them on my own. I’ve always eaten fairly well, but for months now I’ve been eating even healthier, consuming a lot more veggies than anything else. I don’t spend entire days curled up playing on my computer or reading like I used to. I go out and I accomplish things. He and I aren’t living together, but I’m cooking like we are. He doesn’t like hot spicy food; I’ve pulled way back on it even though I love it. I’ve been cleaning a lot more, making lunches and breakfasts, and getting up early, in anticipation for when I do move in with him.

All of those things can be shrugged off as a good influence, as a traditional woman adapting to the life of her man. Where it gets fucking freaky? I talk to him. In my head. I have actually had arguments with him in my head where he has won. I used to eat a lot at night (I suspect somewhere in me I have an eating disorder) but I’ve stopped. One night I got out of bed and put something in the microwave. I walked from the microwave to the living room window, and in that short space of time all I could hear in my head was his voice. How he would be disappointed, and how he knew I was better than this, and I wasn’t hungry, that I should go to bed and go to sleep. That is exactly what I did. I just comply.

Lately, I’ve found myself being very uncomfortable when we aren’t talking for hours and days on end. I get upset, yes, but I literally mean I am uncomfortable in my own skin. I’m a lot more critical of myself as a whole when he isn’t around. I don’t function quite as well, either. I get nervous and panicky in social situations when I’m crowded in, or would usually be uncomfortable. It’s like everything is intensified. Recently I had a mini panic attack when I couldn’t get a hold of him and I was at a family gathering. It felt strange and foreign, and the closer people got, and the more boxed in I felt, the more I wanted to freak out and scream. But as soon as I heard from him, I suddenly and instantly calmed down. We’ve known each other a long time; he’s dug in my head and been there through everything, and he’s become home.

While it’s happening, there are generally only two responses. Either the sub gets scared and lashes out, tries to run, just generally freaks out at the fear of being swallowed up, OR they just accept it and embrace it. I? Embraced it. I never once really fought it; the closer we got, the better and happier I was. It felt natural to both of us, and was just a progression in our relationship. I got really lucky. I know there are a lot of people who don’t think being this entwined and devoted to somebody is healthy. Even some of my closest friends don’t agree with how he and I function. I’ve even had somebody tell me that he sees a sub as devoted and dependant as me as useless and pointless. I’ve accepted that though, and I don’t quite care. Relationships with this strong of a connection aren’t common. They’re rare to find, and unless you’ve been in one you can’t understand it.

Once the dominant is in your head to the point where you are absolutely enslaved to them, if they leave it takes a lot out of you. It would be devastating, and something that you may never really recover from. I’ve seen subs completely fall apart when their owner leaves. They forget how to function, how to take care of themselves.

You can only let somebody in as deep as you’re willing to be hurt. I am well aware that my owner does have the potential to destroy me. I’ll live on, and I’ll recover some, but I wont be the same. I have weighed the risks and decided that we are worth it. I love the relationship that we have and wouldn’t trade it for anything.

There are so many subs that just fall into this and don’t realize the risk they’re taking when a relationship like this gets to that point. We teach them about after care and the dangers of blood play. We warn them about false dominants, but what about the real dominants, the dominant they were meant to be with that can destroy them with one word? We never warn them about those dangers, because we ourselves don’t want to think about it.

October is obviously breast cancer month. It’s plastered everywhere from Edenfantasys to the gas station to the grocery store. The pink ribbon is synonymous with breast cancer. It is recognized everywhere, which is a huge feat for breast cancer that everybody is so aware.

However, I really don’t feel qualified to talk to everybody about breast cancer. I have had cancer in my life, very close to. Breast cancer though, that I haven’t had to deal with, nor have I gone in to get checked, so me preaching about it seems wrong. Just because I don’t have a history of it in my family doesn’t mean I won’t be the first. I did do a self check laying in the bath the other day, though, and that’s what I want to get into.

Bathing, feminine cleanliness, and being aware of your body are a huge part of keeping yourself healthy, and noticing when there is something wrong. I’m going to go through some basic points of feminine hygiene. No they aren’t breast cancer related, but they can help us women notice when something is wrong elsewhere faster.

• Try to avoid using lubes, or other “lotions” that contain sugar, inside of your vagina. The sugar reacts badly and can cause a yeast infection.

• Shaving and trimming: Whether you go completely bare or not isn’t the point here. The point is, to keep the hair trimmed down or kept up so that it’s not oily or collecting “debris” from various sources, whether from your own body or not.

• ALWAYS … and I cannot stress this enough…always wear clean underwear. No matter how well you wipe and clean yourself after going to the bathroom, there will be small amounts of urine and feces that make it onto your panties (and boxers guys!). Which can cause infections and unpleasant smells.

• Clean yourself. There are several feminine washes available out there, even here on EdenFantasys. There are women, however, that are too sensitive for them, or find they don’t like them. Personally, I use a Dove Baby bar. It has the same PH as water, so it doesn’t mess with your natural balances, which is another thing that can cause infection or a whole mess of other unpleasant things. So, if you’re noticing a strong or unpleasant scent try the bar soap, and make sure you’re changing underwear everyday. If that doesn’t clear it up in a week or two, follow up with your doctor.

• When doing breast exams continue into the armpits looking for bumps. The cancer can take hold there as well.

• Spend some time naked, or at least feel yourself up! Take some time while you’re reading or watching a movie or sprawled in bed. Run your hand between your legs, over your breasts and nipples. Learn your body. Nobody else but you can detect subtle differences in your body.

• Watch your panties. Every woman gives off some fluid throughout the day. For some it’s clear, others an off white or white color. If it turns to yellow, it can be a sign of a problem. Again, if so, recheck to make sure you’re clean, as are your panties, and contemplate following up with a doctor to get it checked.

• If you find that your nipples are itchy all month long, even when your period isn’t near, try turning down the heat in your shower. Hot water can cause irritation.

• Tampons are not meant to be worn all day. Ideally you should be changing them several times a day. Especially when you go to the bathroom. Having them soak up urine, and leaving them in for hours like that isn’t really a good thing.

• Pads are not meant to be worn all day either. Your period ideally should not have a scent to it. Blood, vaginal blood especially, does have a faint smell even if you bleed very little. If you can smell it, you need to change your pads sooner. (I have been around several women I’ve fought not to tell that to. Only politeness stopped me.)

• Curvy women, and women in general, sweat, especially in summer, or when working out. Curvy women can sweat in the creases where their thighs meet the rest of the body. Again, if you aren’t showering everyday and changing your clothing you can develop a scent, or a rash. Body powders can help this (I quite like the shunga body powders) and make it less unpleasant.

• Shower at least once a day. I know some women that shower once and bath at night, or shower twice or more during their periods. It’s an individual choice of course.

Why am I telling you all of this?

Well, because just like doing self breast exams can help detect lumps and cancer early, so can doing these things. Keeping yourself clean so your body is clean and regulated it makes it a lot easier to notice when something is different. If you clean yourself thoroughly everyday and wear fresh panties, and have always had a white discharge, you will instantly notice a scent change or a color change that can mean you need to get checked. Your vagina is a large indicator of what is going on in the rest of your body. Taking care of it so you notice those changes is a huge help to yourself. Nobody wants to be sore, or have a strong odor coming from their feminine parts. But if that’s all you’ve known because you were never taught to take care of yourself, how would you know something is wrong? So please, KNOW your body. Every inch of it. After all, it is yours, right?

Lately there have been a few posts on Eden Café about relationships, sex and religion. However, there have been even more posts on personal blogs about it. The BDSM, D/s, M/s lifestyle is always changing for those that live it 24/7, because it’s daily life, and daily life never stays the same for long. Mostly though, I’ve seen subs struggling with melding their life together. “Can I worship God and my Master?” “Is what I’m doing a sin?” “How can I follow the rule of harm none and still be a sadist?”

These are only a few of the questions and doubts I’ve seen flung around in the last few months. Sure, these questions can pop into your head as you go along in this lifestyle. More often than not (from what I have seen) though, one person questioning themselves has caused another person to question themselves on the topic, or one person questioning another about how they can believe one thing yet do another that seems to contradict the belief. I personally am not a believer in letting other people’s doubt and thoughts dictate how you live your life, and whether or not you’re comfortable in that life. I know several Pagans, Christians, and Catholics that live the lifestyle. Some of them I know can blend the two seamlessly; others struggle. They wonder if their God/gods/goddesses will approve of what they do, or they can’t bridge the gap in their minds between their beliefs and the way they live their lives, so they struggle. They try to choose one or the other, or they stress over one while they participate in the other. Some adopt the mindset of “The man leads”, or “I believe in goddess, so I follow the woman” from their religion and have learned to blend things under that umbrella. The thought and belief of “An ye harm none, do what ye will” can be tricky for some. There are those that believe BDSM goes against this, and then there are those that believe because it is consensual, it does not go against the vow. In more abundance, are those that have melded their two worlds very well, or have chosen to live them separately.

So which category do I fall into? Well, the latter. I’m pagan. That is the simplest term that I can come up with right now. What I believe is varied and eclectic across the board. A lot of beliefs are mainly spiritual. My lifestyle fits into that. There are those that mock paganism and spirituality, and don’t believe in gods and goddesses or spirit animals. There are those that do. Then there are those that don’t have a choice. I didn’t have a choice. If I don’t meditate for a long time, I’ll dream. Not just a normal dream, but a spiritually guided dream. The first time it happened it freaked me out because it was about my owner. Now I just accept it. Every dream, or meditation I’ve had a wolf with me. When I think about my owner and I, there is usually a visual in my head of wolves. Of an alpha with its teeth at a females neck, or a female offering her neck or belly to the alpha.

My sex life and my beliefs meld together very well. They feed off of one another. The deeper my connection with my owner, the more sexual I feel, the more spiritual and in tune I feel. I have a friend who is very connected to her beliefs and spends some of her time guiding other pagans with their problems. She told me when my owner and I first started getting close that I was meant to follow him, but I wasn’t ready for him, and he wouldn’t always be there. It freaked me out. I came to learn that she was right, I wasn’t ready to follow him and have him own me, and I learned that she meant he wouldn’t stay the same to me, his role would change, he would change. He has, we have.

I’ve never questioned my beliefs and how they may be at odds with my sex life. They’ve always flowed and grown together. As my submission to my owner deepened, as did my spirituality, my submission freed a part of me that let me open up to everything else I was being offered. I have trouble separating one from the other, because they are both large parts of what make up who I am. I don’t believe that one overrides the other, or that sex must always be at odds with religion. Sex brings life, and the earth is full of it. As a pagan, I worship the earth, the sun, the stars, god, goddess, and I embrace life. I embrace all that creates life, and all the every day bits of magic that we take for granted, and that includes sex. Yes I can be tied and beaten, whipped and flogged, but I can also walk out into a forest and be struck and affected just as deeply as I am with my owner. I value that. I love that I don’t have to fight to separate or meld parts of myself. I just, am.

Edenfantasys is a great many things. It’s a community, it’s a forum, and it’s a place to review, to be heard, and to learn. When it comes right down to it, though, Edenfantasys is a sex toy shop; it just has a lot more to offer than most. To me, a toy store can encompass many things. The one I want to focus on is fantasy. Scrolling through the site, you can find many products dedicated to BDSM fantasies, sensuous fantasies, and even kits to help you achieve the particular fantasy you’re interested in. Sometimes, though, your fantasy isn’t in a store, sometimes it’s easily found, sometimes it’s unattainable.

Everybody fantasizes. There are people who dream of BDSM acts, while others long for candlelight and rose petals strewn across the bed. Your fantasies are exactly that, YOUR fantasy, they’re particular to a single person. They can be shared with partners, or sometimes even whole groups of people. There are times, however, when you can act them out with your partner and fulfill that need. I know people who have done just that, and had it work out as good or better than they had expected. This has pushed them to try more, share more with their partners, hoping that the next play session will be just as satisfying. Which is great, but I think we all know that not all fantasies translate well into real life. Something can be really hot and exciting in your mind but falls flat when you actually act it out. My fantasy, though, it falls into a third category: potentially harmful.

What if you have a fantasy that could hurt you? I don’t mean in the BDSM sense, though you can fantasize about rougher play than your body can handle. No, I mean what if you can’t emotionally or mentally handle your fantasy actually being played out. What if you try it, and it breaks some part of you because in abstract the idea is okay, but in reality it turns you into a sobbing, broken down mess? What if it was sexy in your head, but only serves to make you angry when you try it out? How can you act out the fantasy knowing full well that you may be okay, or it may end in tears and hurt feelings?

No, I’m not talking about a rape/force fantasy, although those commonly fall into the same category. For me specifically, I’m talking about a fantasy where I watch my partner with somebody else. My partner is technically my owner and master. We are in a BDSM relationship, and I have talked with many other subs that have the same fantasy. This particular thing seems to be confined to the fetish/BDSM end of the scale, although I’m sure others have it as well. Some of the subs have acted on it and been fine, others have broken down, and others have even found it to be completely boring.

My owner and I have discussed playing with other girls together, and plan to try it and see how it goes. I’m excited about this, I’ve thought about what toys I want to get to use on them (glass of course), and how often I was comfortable with it happening and so on. We’ve also agreed that until I am able to move to be with him we can have sex with other people. I haven’t yet, but he has. I’m not going to lie, some days I’m okay with it, while other days it can tear me apart. I’m just not a permanently open relationship/poly kind of girl. This has taught me that, but right now I can live with it. It’s only when my head turns dark that the other girls really bother me anyways.

Then the other night, I had a flicker of a different side of the coin. What if I was tied up and made to watch him with another girl? The thought didn’t hurt. Always before, it bothered me to think of him with others, but this time it didn’t. This time it intrigued me, and I pushed the thought further a smidgen at a time, waiting for it to hurt or upset me. Probably because I was involved, it was a fantasy, and it wasn’t real. Then it hit me… there will be times when we are playing with a girl, where he’s doing something with her and I am not, but I’d still be involved, still be okay, and a willing participant. What if I was tied and ignored? Or tied and taunted by him as he fucked this girl? As these thoughts flew by, I was excited and it wasn’t long before I started touching myself, relieving some of the pressure. This is not something I would have ever thought I’d enjoy, yet here I am.

This morning has me wondering though. What if we really did it, followed through and tried it, would I be okay? I honestly do not know. Based on past experiences and emotions, I’d say it’s fairly likely that I may break down. I could end up tied up and bawling halfway through. Or, I could stick it out and possibly get mad and resentful as it went on, or afterwards. Or, I could be perfectly fine and be soaked by the end of it, and ready to jump him.

I have a friend or two in therapy, and one thing I’ve learned from them is you always explore darker, more painful things when you’re safe and comfortable. Usually it means when they’re comfortable with their partners, they have nightmares about their past, or are okay talking to them about the horrible things that have happened to them. Well, my owner and I have done that. We’re comfortable; I’m comfortable. I feel safe and loved and wanted. Part of me wonders if this fantasy is popping up now because I feel safe enough to expose that side of me. Always before, people would talk about it, and I would reject the idea instantly because I didn’t want it, couldn’t handle it, and didn’t like it. More accurately, I didn’t feel safe with the idea. I’d have internalized the thought that he didn’t want me, and was happier and more excited to be with this other girl than me.

So why the change? I believe it’s because I know it would be exactly what the word fantasy implies. It’s not real. I know that he wouldn’t prefer the girl to me, or rather be with her. I would know that at the end of it, I would be the one going home with him. Intellectually I know these things, hell I know those things now, and still I get bothered by the girls sometimes. Actually witnessing it has the possibility to not be sexy, it could just end up doing me harm. Not physically, but emotionally and mentally it has the potential to hurt me if it turns out that I cannot handle it.

This really makes me wonder if I’m better off leaving this type of fantasy in my head without trying to act it out. I know I’d be safe and taken care of. If it turns out I couldn’t handle it, I know my owner wouldn’t continue with it, he likes to cause me pain in a BDSM sense, but not like that. It’s just not his thing. I know I wouldn’t be pushed beyond what I can handle, and I’d have a way out. I know that, but it makes me worry. I don’t want to act out this fantasy and have it damage us somehow, because I have trouble separating it and coming back to reality. After hard play sessions, I tend to have two responses, I either latch on to my owner, or I withdraw and process. I don’t want to withdraw and not be able to get back to normal. I don’t want this to break some part of me that I can’t fix. To be honest, if I’m this unsure of what will happen and how I’ll react, I’m not even sure my owner will permit this to happen. All of this thinking and digging in my head that I am doing could be totally unneeded if he declares it too risky. The point remains though, some fantasies aren’t meant to be played out. It’s figuring out which ones those are that’s the tricky part.

I’ve been attempting to write a post on body image for weeks, possibly over a month. Other posts just seemed to have flowed out until I hit this topic. It stalled me. Being the stubborn person that I am, I can’t just pick a new topic and forget this one. So, I’ve been sitting here trying to get this post out. Then it hit me, I couldn’t find the words to share because I’m not done piecing together my body image. It’s still fluctuating and evolving. Though most people’s body image is rarely a stagnant thing. I have yet to meet somebody who feels sexy and attractive every day, all day long. We’re human; we have good days and bad days. Sometimes others influence it; sometimes it’s our own mindset that decides how we’ll feel that day.

During elementary school, I was always one of the taller people in the class, and I always weighed a little bit more. I’ve always had a curvy figure, even when I was young. Oddly enough, it wasn’t the curves that bothered me at that point, it was the height. Now, years later, I can’t recall why. Everybody I know now is either my height or taller, very few are shorter.

When I was in high school, I was put on a medication for asthma. One of the side affects of it was weight gain, but I was told it was very rare and only one out of one hundred people actually gained weight. I was that one. I gained quite a bit of weight, and to add salt to that wound, the medication didn’t work for me, it actually made my asthma worse. So for the time I was on it, I couldn’t really exercise or take part in the gym classes. I walked once around the gym and I couldn’t breathe. So I spent around a year on this medication before we caught what it was doing. During that year, I put on weight. Following that year, I put on weight.

By this time, I weighed significantly more than pretty much everybody else around me. My self-esteem was non-existent, and my body image was what I equate to a black hole. I hid in my clothing. I very rarely went outside without a sweater or something to cover me up. I wasn’t comfortable in just a regular shirt, even in the middle of summer. This went on for a long time.

The process of accepting myself, and my body, is and was a long one. I slowly pulled out of that shell, and I do mean slowly. I went from sweaters to zip ups that I could leave undone. Again, I wore those everywhere I went, even if it was hot outside. I remember telling people I was just always cold, because I didn’t want to tell them the real reason for it. Now, I’m wearing regular shirts out without a second thought most days. I prefer low cut shirts that show off something, and I rarely wear sweaters or zip ups, and when I do they feel bulky. Before they felt safe, like a nice little hidey-hole I could carry around on me. I no longer feel the need for that hole.

So how did I get to this point? I spent a long time in my own head trying to find the root of my body issues. There was a boy that liked to pick on me and make fun of my weight, but if it wasn’t my weight it would have been something else. He never did like me. I was pretty lucky with my group of friends. It was varied enough, and included enough guys, that they squashed anything anybody else tried to start, at first. Then it got to the point where it was just the one boy that picked on me every day. He was friends with one of the guys I was pretty close with, and who knew me very well. He stepped in before I would get to the point of having enough, because my stopping points get blurry at times. Then one day, that friend just stopped getting in the middle of it. He was tired of refereeing and just let me go. Without going into not very nice details, the boy left me alone for a long time after that. Even now, when I’m around town and he sees me he rarely says anything, and when he does he won’t come near me. Standing up to him myself instead of letting my friend do it helped a lot, even if he does still say something when he’s around and it happens. Other than that one person, I was never really bullied in school like a lot of people are. I had a good set of friends at the time. I relied a lot on my brain and wit, and more often than not, they came through. For the people that do remember me, it’s usually snarky comments they recall.

There was one place where I did get bullied though, and that was in my family. I’m sure they don’t see it as bullying, but year after year the little comments dug deeper and deeper in my head. The “helpful” comments were the worst for me. Being told “You shouldn’t eat that,” “We need to get that weight off of you,” and a number of other things. Some worse things that I’d rather not recall only served to dig me deeper into the hole I was in. I know it wasn’t intended as bullying, and they were only trying to help, to educate and see me do better, but those things still hurt. There’s nothing worse than thinking poorly of yourself and having it reflected back to you by people who are supposed to care about you and not see, or at least not point out, your flaws.

Everything that happened added to my own insecurity, and just built upon it until I was both physically hiding in my clothes and hiding in general. I was never comfortable going out, especially to eat. I was always really self-conscious, and I still am some days. I was also very quiet, trying to not draw attention to myself. In school and in general, if people weren’t in my circle of friends I didn’t talk to them. I didn’t join in on the extra activities. If I could get out of things, I did. Even with my family, I was very quiet and held back a lot of the time.

I don’t think I can actually pinpoint when things started to change, or say for sure why. Part of this is because I am still changing, I’m still adapting and becoming more comfortable. In the last little while, I’ve lost twenty pounds and that has helped a lot. It’s the first time in my life I’ve actually been able to lose weight and maintain it. My body seems to finally be straightening out. Another big reason for the change is the guy I’m with (boyfriend just always seems to sound wrong). He’s supportive in helping me lose weight, and a support system is really a huge help. He also doesn’t let me hide. He’s the only person that hasn’t, not physically, emotionally, or mentally. He did for a while, then he started tearing down every wall I had. It wasn’t long ago that he made me finally strip for him. I was so scared and uncomfortable being naked in front of him, and having him see me, that I teared-up and cried a bit, but I did it, and I needed it. Up until that point I was doing okay, and getting a little more confident. But being forced to take down that wall myself, and have him still be there in the end, helped a lot. It let me know that a lot of my issues are in my head, and he doesn’t see them as a huge deal. He doesn’t feed into that fear or my issues at all. I’m not as conscious of it anymore. I’m happier and more outgoing. However, that also started around the time I started with this guy, because he accepted me. I wasn’t so busy hiding anymore since I learned to accept myself.

I am doing better, but I know I have a long way to go yet. I have more weight to lose, but now I know I can be comfortable at this weight too. I have days where my head goes dark and tries to suck me back into that old mindset, but those days pass, and I have a lot more good ones lately. Accepting myself, and my body; being free of that black hole, and all those bulky sweaters has made every bump along the road, every tear I’ve shed over this worth it, because I’m happy. My body image is evolving and fluctuating, but it’s heading somewhere better.

Over the years I have learned a lot about relationships. I have learned some rights and wrongs; I have learned that everybody has a different view on relationships. I’ve been through a few different relationship styles myself. I’ve learned. I’ve progressed. I still know nothing. I fully believe that relationships are like carnival rides, you never know when it’s going flip, shift, spin or change.

My current relationship is, vaguely long term. Why vaguely? Because I don’t know when it started for absolute certain. I have known my SO about five years. For the first three years we flirted and fooled around when we were both single, but still dated other people. We always came back to each other no matter what else had happened. I still went to him with everything, even when I was seeing somebody else. He was, and is, that safe, comfortable spot for me. That connection was always there; we just managed to ignore it.

Then one day the relationships we were both in suddenly ended. We we’re both single again. We took things slow, waiting for the other to be ready for something. Readjusting ourselves to each other and our dynamic. One day I just woke up and realized what was happening. Realized who I should be with, and had been with for quite a long time. So when did we start? The truthful answer to that is, I don’t know. For us I think that’s part of what keeps things fresh, we waited so long to be able to actually have the other one that there is still some level of excitement over that. At least on my part there is. We’re both very happy with each other.

A huge part of our relationship, just like any other; is communication. There are times where we completely fail at this. Quite spectacularly. However, as far as I am concerned, that communication is what keeps our relationship fresh (as well as secure and happy). How does communication keep things fresh? Because talking to each other means you’re sharing. Whether it’s day-to-day troubles, random thoughts, or fantasies. I don’t hesitate at all bringing up things to my partner. Especially sexual things I’d like to try. I don’t think either one of us has ever said no, not outright anyways. There are always variations you can do if you aren’t comfortable with what your partner wants.
Both my SO and I are into BDSM, and as such, try new things in that venue. If you’re interested, and your partner isn’t sure about it, you can start out lightly, like Velcro cuffs that they can get out of, and gentle fuzzy paddles.

That, of course, doesn’t mean we don’t fight, or hit rough spots. We absolutely do. It doesn’t matter how much communication you have. It doesn’t matter how hard you fight to keep things fresh and exciting, life has a way of throwing curve balls, generally one right after the other for stretches of time. In the last about six months my SO and I have had one curve ball after the other. We’re bruised and tired, it always seems like just as one thing starts to ease up and get better another issue is dropped in one of our laps. I’m not going to lie to you, it absolutely sucks. However, we both know the other one isn’t going anywhere. There are times where it gets scary, but we have a good foundation. Sometimes when you have so much going on you need to lessen the demand of something. You can’t just say “I’m sorry but I can’t pay bills this month,” or “Sorry, can’t have that problem right now, you’ll have to try again in a month or so.” Since we have that base, we can limit parts of our relationship to help deal with other things. It’s not pleasant, and not liked at all, but sometimes it’s needed. We personally have a BDSM based relationship, which has been more or less put on the back burner for right now. We generally talk everyday since we’re apart right now, but if skipping a day here or there will help ease some stress, it can be done. If knowing that he’s going to be okay, and have one less thing demanding his attention, I can suck it up for a day here and there.

As long as you talk about it and agree to it before hand, as long as it works for you, it can be done. That’s what’s needed. Finding what works for your relationship, what makes it thrive and be comfortable for both of you. My relationship has definitely evolved over the years. He went from somebody I talked to now and then, to somebody I need in my life. He went from being somebody to flirt with, to somebody I care about more than anybody else. Every relationship changes, it’s just human nature. Whether it changes for the better, though, that is totally dependant on the choices made.

Relationships are hard. There is no denying that. There will be fights and disagreements; there will be rough patches and the odd bump in the road. It’s just the way it is. For a lot of relationships, there will even come a time where it’s time to end them.

There was recently a post by Anonymous entitled “Worst Way To End A Relationship”  That post hit a chord with me. Why you ask? Well, because I’ve been dumped by somebody cutting off contact as well.

This is a horrible way to dump somebody in any relationship. It’s disrespectful. There are, however, some relationships and circumstances where it’s worse. When I was dumped this way, it took a bit more than a month to become clear. That’s a long time to hold on to something. In that relationship, he was off in a large city miles and miles away and constantly busy with his job. It was nothing for us to go a week or more without contact. It was nothing for him to go five days without sleeping, other than cat naps in the company vehicle. So, a couple weeks without contact, while I worried, it wasn’t glaring me in the face yet. It could be explained, if you really tried. So I waited. I texted. I phoned. I left messages, sometimes in tears. Nothing.

During this time, I had a small group of friends that took up a huge angry exception to this. You see, this man that had disappeared was my Master at the time. He had been my Master for over a year. That’s not something you walk away from easily. There’s a different level of trust and commitment there. I was perfectly fine waiting, until a month and a half went by. To this day I have not heard a single word from him, and it’s been over a year, closer to two probably.

The thing with a M/s or D/s relationship is, it takes a lot of a person to make it work. It takes commitment and encouragement and drive. Mostly though, it takes a lot of responsibility. When a Master/Dominant/Owner takes on a submissive they are making a commitment, a very large one, at that. It’s very close to a marriage. You aren’t saying you’ll be together forever, even marriage can’t promise that. However, by taking on a sub, a Dominant person is saying they will take care of that person; they will be there for them; they will (in some cases) run that persons life, be the center of their life. For me, all of these statements were true. This man did build my life around him; he made sure he was the center of my life, that I did nothing without permission, that I relied on him.

Then, he started slacking. He never punished me for any transgression unless I asked. And for a submissive, having to ask for punishment kills some of the dynamic. Once or twice is fine when you feel yourself failing, but every single time isn’t right. You are dominating yourself. Then when he went out east for work; he got very busy. We started talking less and less, yet he always laid it on really thick when we did talk. He never once let on that things were changing. He always promised to take me out there, said that he missed me, told me that he was missing sleep but I was worth it. He sucked me in further. Time after time, he pushed my faith in him to a new level, sucked me into his world until I lost mine. Then one day, he didn’t answer texts, but he phoned the next night assuring me that he read them, that if he didn’t answer, I was to do what I thought he would want. That he’s just busy but he ALWAYS takes time to read what I send, that he’ll be with me as soon as things slowed down. For a couple months that’s how it worked. Then, we went a week with no contact. Then two. Then a month. I’d been told to wait. I’d been told to have faith in him, that he’ll always be back; he wouldn’t leave me for anything.

After a month and a half I stopped waiting. I stopped being scared, and I moved on. I got very pissed off. This man had a responsibility to me as a submissive. When you take on this lifestyle, take on another human being saying, “I will lead you, follow me”, you cannot just walk away. It’s like adopting a pet, once you have it you can’t just decide one day that you’re done and walk away from it without a word or thought towards it. That animal will wait in the window for you to come home. It will believe you will come no matter how long it waits until eventually it starves. Extreme example? Absolutely. But, there are some subs, some I have even talked to, that are so dependant on their owners that they do fall out of the lifestyle and go into panic phases when they’re left. Some of them do not know how to function without their owner. It is a responsibility taking somebody else’s life into your hands. Not all subs are that extreme, but that doesn’t mean they don’t go through the same problems when their dominant just disappears without a word. A simple “I’m sorry, this isn’t working for me anymore” is a lot better than just leaving somebody who depends on you hanging. Sometimes by a thread. Even a text or email is better than nothing.

For me, I got over it. The further I am from that relationship the more I see all the issues. This man was absolutely a false dominant. While I have applied this to my own situation, this extends to all relationships. People in vanilla relationships have a responsibility too. Just because they don’t have the same dynamic does not mean that they don’t deserve an explanation. To me, dating is just like having sex. It’s fun, you enjoy it, but it is a responsibility. You have to be aware of the consequences of your actions. If a relationship isn’t working, you don’t just walk away, you tell the person. If you have sex and get pregnant, you have a responsibility to decide what to do. Maybe you talk about it before hand so you aren’t blindsided. I know I do. With every partner I have had, we have discussed what we would do if our birth control method fails. You can’t do that with a relationship. You can’t sit down and say “Okay, if I don’t contact you for three days, we’re over.” Well, I suppose you could, but most people wont be very receptive to it. So what’s left? Having that uncomfortable conversation when it’s time. You owe it to the other person. A few minutes of discomfort for one side saves the other weeks of heartache and worry.

It’s a maturity thing to an extent. If you aren’t mature enough to see that it’s wrong to just disappear, if you can’t muster up the courage to even send a text, if you can’t face the fact that sometimes things are uncomfortable and messy, then maybe you should give it some time before you try dating. These things do happen. It’s part of being an adult. It’s part of being in a grown up, real relationship. It’s scary; it can be hard, but if you get it right it’s more than worth it.

BDSM is a very liquid thing. There is no right way, or wrong way to go about things. Doing what feels right is the basis of each BDSM relationship; views on what’s allowed or “real” vary greatly. Some follow definitions, labels, and roles very closely, and believe that’s the only true way to go about things. While others allow things to evolve and change, as it will, not worrying about where they fit in with everybody else’s definitions of the lifestyle.

My owner and I tend to fall into that last category. While he is always in control, always the one leading us, we very much let things flow. We don’t worry about where we fit within the kink community. When pushed for a definition or label for ourselves, we can provide them, but they are never very accurate. He is my dominant, my owner, and I am submissive to him. Which on the surface looks very neat and tidy, however, digging a little deeper into it, most people find that the labels never really fit comfortably, yet some do, and thrive on them. I am his submissive, I listen to him, and he has final say on a lot of aspects of not only our life together, but my life away from him as well. With that said, I also have some slave like qualities and tendencies. At the same time I still get input in some decisions. I can tell him my opinion, and more often than not he takes it into consideration, and it may change what he wants slightly to accommodate things better, whether they pertain to us or are centered on me. There are times, however, where he disregards my opinion and makes the decision on his own. To a lot of people who follow the labels rigidly, this means we aren’t really a true power exchange couple because I get an opinion or have a bit of influence, and we’re okay with that. We’ve found a dynamic that works well for us. We both know that he is the one with final say. I can talk until I’m blue in the face about something, but if he doesn’t want to do it that way it isn’t going to happen. He makes decisions I don’t always like, but I still follow his lead on them. To me, that’s what this lifestyle is about; following my owners lead and meeting his expectation, not following or meeting expectations of others.

I’ve been involved in the BDSM lifestyle for a few years now. In this time I have had two official owners. I have discovered that one owner is not equal to another. I’ve realized that I am not cut out for a regular vanilla life, but at the same time, just any owner/dominant doesn’t work either. Finding the right fit is essential. I’ve learned quite a few things merely by stumbling into them, usually mouth first, seeing as how it tends to get away from me. Many times my sense of humor or attitude has gotten in the way. This seems to be fairly common among the submissives I know. Maybe it’s universal, or maybe I just have a group of smart-ass friends. Who knows! I am lucky in the sense that my owner enjoys my smart-ass side, and even encourages it on occasion.

This for me is a large plus, because I’m prone to speaking before I think. In the past I have gotten in trouble for quite a few things that my current owner wouldn’t punish me for. During a spanking, I once called out “use your words!” which I found absolutely hilarious. The man spanking me did not agree. I also uttered the words “I dare you.” Once. While technically I wasn’t punished for it, the thing I was threatened with was definitely followed through on, and probably wouldn’t have been if I had kept my mouth shut. Just for the record, “It was just a lucky shot” and “Bet you couldn’t do that again” also fall into the previously mentioned category. As does “That won’t fit!” because believe me, it will.

My current (and as far as I’m concerned my last/permanent) owner understands that side of me much better. He laughs at my comments and ditzy moments. Needless to say, he laughs a lot. There are times, however, that I get a little odd even for him, which usually results in a raised eyebrow as a response. Which, by the way, rises further when you threaten to wax it off so he can’t respond that way. I’ve known this man for about four years. That’s a decent amount of time to get to know somebody. It also means that we’ve had arguments and disagreements in that time. Most of which he has pulled the owner/master card on me. Generally followed by one of two things. A protest of “Who made you boss?” on my part. Which, lets face it, is never valid. I made him boss. Or, me threatening to punish him, which is either met by laughter or an invitation to do it, knowing full well I’ll chicken out. On the heels of that, of course, is offering stickers for your dominant’s good behavior. It’s not appropriate or how things work. So I’m told.

If I had stayed with my previous owner, or in the forever failing vanilla relationships I endured, I know I would not be as happy as I am today. I’ve found somebody that lets me be myself, no matter how neurotic, weird, sarcastic or submissive I really am. This lifestyle has opened up a whole new, more comfortable, and right for me, way to live my life. Some people find living under somebody else’s thumb to be limiting, and uncomfortable. I’ve never been so comfortable, safe, and at home in my life. Not being afraid to dig deeper and try new things, to have fun with them even at odd, or (as some would view) inappropriate times (like mid spanking) has made me a much happier and a more fully rounded person. Even if that person is viewed as odd or unconventional, I’m thankful for it.

I’ve always been a little shy, a little introverted. During school I kept mostly to myself and allowed very few people see the real me. Or, what I thought was the real me at the time. Over the years almost all of these friends have disappeared. Some because we fought and walked away, others because we grew apart. I was never one to worry about people leaving my life, more often than not I cut them out of it. I moved on and found new friends, and eventually found more of who I am.

So who am I? In broader definitions, several things can define me: female, submissive, and even outspoken at times. Below the surface I’m also loyal, smart, sarcastic, playful, and insecure. A person cannot be fully defined by a mere eight words, but they are a starting point. The last several years I have come more and more into my own. The shy girl that once inhabited my body has all but disappeared, making only small appearances when somebody I view as important intimidates me. Now, more often than not, I think before I speak and don’t care who hears. I’ve stopped hiding who I am, even the submissive side of me, only keeping it from those who I know would not understand. I’ve accepted that I’m submissive, that I function better and am happier when I have an owner. I am a very sexual person; I’ve stopped hiding that and trying to repress it because a “bigger girl like me” shouldn’t think like that, because all in all, it’s bullshit.

In a few short years, I have made great strides in finding who I am and being comfortable with that person. I am absolutely comfortable and happy with every part of me but one, my weight. I’ve broken down several walls in my life, I’m no longer shy, no longer watch what I say. If I have something to say it will be out there sans the sugar coating. However, my weight… that is one wall that not only is still up, but also seems to have grown over the years.

My first actual relationship was very unhealthy. It was mentally and emotionally abusive, but he accepted my weight. Never once had an issue with it. At that point I still had a small issue with it, wanted to hide that part of me in-case he didn’t accept it, but it wasn’t as strong as it is now. I believe a lot of the issue stems from the second guy I was with. He got cold feet, couldn’t handle an actual relationship and used my weight as an escape route. Believe me, hearing that you’re too big for a guy bigger than you are is not a small hurt. From there I moved on to the guy that introduced me to the BDSM lifestyle. That relationship was not a good one, but he had no issue with the weight, at first. After a while he started pushing me to lose weight, to change the way I look. When we went out and ran into friends of his, I never once got introduced, or even looked at. After a while, I started to feel as though he was ashamed of me. Eventually that relationship dissolved in a spectacularly horrible way. When it ended I took comfort from a friend of mine who lives a few hours away.

A year later and that friend is now my owner, and again wants me to lose some weight. He wants me to do it so I’m healthy, and around for a while. He absolutely wants me to weigh less, and one of those reasons is because I’m a little big for him… but he never hid that from me. He told me how he felt, and that it was me either way, and I was who he wanted. The weight didn’t matter to him in that sense, it wasn’t enough for him to walk away, though he does still want me to lose some. I agree with him. I want to lose weight, and part of that is he never made me feel ashamed about it; he doesn’t seem ashamed of me because of it. He’s helping break down that wall that so many guys have helped build up.

Right now that wall is still pretty tall, but for the first time I’m fighting to get over onto the other side. My owner has told me time and time again that the weight doesn’t matter, that he’s okay with it and he just wants me. Those words mean something; they help erase that fear, but not completely. The last little while I’ve been sending him pictures, at least two a week as per his new rule. This is actually helping a lot. I’m getting used to him seeing me, so it’s not as big of a deal in person. I’ve found angles that I look better in and do use them, but I don’t hide the parts of me I hate anymore. He even has me sending him naked, or almost naked, full body shots for every ten pounds I lose. He’s slowly erasing that fear.

For as much as the pictures are helping, there is always going to be a little wall there until I both lose the weight and am fully happy with how I look, or he proves in person that it doesn’t matter to him. So, I’m working on the weight and counting down the days until I get to see him.

Everybody has walls, whether they’re there to keep people from hurting them, about their body, or even letting somebody into their life at all. They vary from person to person, but in the last year that I’ve spent getting closer and connecting more with my owner I’ve learned something. No matter how high the wall, or the reasons for it, the other side is always brighter, better. Even though I’m being pushed and shaped into something new, I have never been happier. I’ve started to open up parts of me that I hid away, or just plain hid behind. I’m open and vulnerable, but there’s very little fear there anymore.

Yes, you have a lot to lose once you tear down that wall with somebody. There is a chance you’ll get hurt, but you also have the chance to connect and be with somebody that loves you for you, flaws, insecurities and all. I very firmly believe that for every person there is somebody out there that will not only accept what he or she views as their flaws, but will embrace them and even love that they’re there. Showing people what’s behind that wall can be very scary, but it can also be one of the most rewarding things when what you saw as a downfall is not even an issue with somebody else. Nothing is worth going through life blocking people out; nothing is worth being insecure and scared when you don’t have to be. Breaking down those walls is worth it, even if it’s a brick at a time.