Being Open

Got in to work this morning and was yakking with my little admin girl (I have no idea why I always call her that, she’s a grown woman and hardly mine, she is my boss’s admin assistant, but still, I claim her, and always as “my little admin girl.”)  Anyway, we were talking about the latest…uneasiness…here in the office.  It’s not really even uneasiness, just, a strangeness that we both feel, with our boss suddenly being so secretive, with the impending changes, with this semi-secret meeting that everyone (except a select few) are at in our regional headquarters. The thing is, the bosslady has always been so open with us, even to the point of sharing things that are going on in the organization that nobody else knows about.  That’s how I knew how many and who specifically would have been laid off, if layoffs had happened.  But suddenly now, she’s keeping mum, and both K (my little office admin girl) and I are feeling this uneasiness over it, a little insecure. So, with everyone gone, we were of course gossiping about it. And I said, “Well W (using his full name) told me I was being paranoid…” and she said, “Who?” And I had this moment of…huh, I forgot I was talking to someone that doesn’t know/that I don’t talk to about my life in this open way. And that reminded me (after I had simply said, “a friend of mine”) of why, sometimes, I am so separate from everyone here.  It’s too hard to keep all the things that people can and can’t know straight in my head, not to talk about all the people that are a part of my life.  I’m not good at keeping secret part of myself.  I’m just too open.  And the fact that I can’t be, here, makes me sad.  And disappointed, in myself and them and the situation.  Why can’t I just be open about the fact that I love two men?

When I made the choice to leave my ex and live the life that I lead, the life that is true to who I am, I said I wouldn’t live a lie anymore. The ex was so ashamed of what we did, so sure that someone would find out we were kinky & poly, that he “let” me sleep with/love other men & women. So shameful! So embarrassing! We had this veneer over the reality of our lives that I was determined to strip away when I left him. And so I did, in every aspect of my life (family & friends), except work. I had never been a “work buddy” kind of person anyway, didn’t do the happy hour thing, didn’t make an effort to befriend most of the people I worked with anyway, because, like family, you don’t choose who your workmates are, so how (and why) are you supposed to be friends with them, just because you work together? Most of the people I worked with I just didn’t share enough interests with anyway to develop a “friendship.”

Then I came to work here.

I know many submissive women that are very Top in their worklives. And I am very independent, but honestly, I have no desire to lead, to be the boss, I am not the least bit Toppy in my work life.  In fact I think my inherent need to please, to be pleasing, is a large part of why I have always been a good assistant. I crave my boss’s approval, perhaps too much so, and I do whatever it takes to get it. I want my superiors to love me. To value me. And I work very very hard to gain that approval/love/acceptance.  It’s craven, I know. But there it is. But I’ve never befriended my boss.  My work ethics, my desire to please, to make their lives easier, was always enough to get that approval.

My current boss, MB, was a harder nut to crack. But, crack her I did. In four short months in her employ, she created the position I am currently in, specifically for me, and promoted me. She’s an awesome boss. And…this office, there’s a camaraderie here, that I have never felt in another workplace. Our little division is close, as close as workmates can be, and the office is too. They do things together, spend time outside work together, invite each other to holiday get-togethers and house warmings and parties. They invite me, too, but…I have just never been an after-work/outside-of-work socializer. Even at work I don’t do much socializing. It’s just not me–and it’s too fraught with potential landmines, since my life is so different than theirs. I’m kinky. I’m bisexual. I’m a slut. I sleep with strange men, I have male and female lovers, I live with my boyfriend and date others.  I have an Owner. I write a sex blog, I use sex toys for Christ’s sake, my boyfriend dates other women, I publish erotica and my life sometimes sounds like a script for a porn movie. I like to be used, I like to be hurt, I like to be displayed and exhibited and humiliated.  I talk about and think about sex–a lot. All things that I think (from the kinds of things they talk about and the way that they talk about anything coming even close to those subjects) they would not think are cool.  And, in fact, would most likely promptly get me ostracized.

So, I am not open here.  And I avoid placing myself in situations (a couple glasses of wine, getting too relaxed, bringing up my personal life) where I might slip up.

But it happens.  Like today. And then I wonder what it would be like to just be able to say, “W” and not have to discount who he is in my life by saying he’s just a “friend.”


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