Freedom of Speech

I wrote a post over on PoJ the other day in which I talked (obliquely) about a scene I had recently with someone W set me up with. I was a little hesitant to post it, because while it wasn’t meant to be criticism, but rather musings on a particular thing that came up during negotiations for the scene and afterward, I was worried that it might come across that way, and the person that instigated those musings–the Top with whom I played–reads that blog (and this one as well.)

You never know how people will take things they read in your blog. I used to be very careful about who I gave my blog address to, preferring to keep it from local, real-life friends & acquaintances, because some of the things we do, the way we play, etc., can be…a little on the “not-quite-acceptable” side.  A little edgy.  And, frankly, I wasn’t sure I wanted them to know all that about me.  Especially as many of my friends in the local BDSM scene knew me as my ex’s submissive and saw me a certain way.  To have them see me as W’s slut, to have them know what he does to me and makes me do, to allow them to see me degraded and degrading myself at times, well, I just didn’t know if I wanted that.

I also didn’t know if I was ready for them to know W like that.  I wanted them to know him and like him, and to understand what I saw in him, besides the fact that I love how he does hurt me, use me, degrade me when we play.  If they saw all that stuff first though, before they got to know him as a person, or saw how healthy our relationship is, they would have been likely to make judgments about him as a person (and question my judgment in being with him.)

After my break-up with the ex and my subsequent withdrawal from the lifestyle and from everyone I had known in it, some of them were understandably protective of me when I decided to come back into the scene.  And to come back with someone that is obviously a far more intense and edgy player than anyone I have been with before (and than many of the people in our local community in general), well, there was some generalized concern. “Does she know what the fuck she is doing?” I think is how a friend put it later to me.  This isn’t an unwarranted reaction, to be truthful; we see it all the time, naive, inexperienced submissives and bottoms that get in over their heads and don’t know how to get out of situations that are too much for them. Telling them that I knew perfectly well what I was doing, what I wanted, and where I was going wouldn’t have helped much–everyone says that. The fact that I did, and do, would have to be shown, and that would just take time to prove.

So, for awhile, my blogs were pretty anonymous.

I don’t know exactly when it was that I decided to open my blogs up to them.  I do know that I had many long conversations about it with both guys about the possible repercussions in being more public, and about possible reactions–not just to me, but to them. My relationship with A was still a fairly unknown element with them as well. Although I had been involved with him for a year before the ex and I split, and although they had met and gotten to know him before we split, due to his reserve, and my withdrawal from everyone when the split happened, I don’t think they had a good feel for the solidness of our relationship, nor for how well W fit into that picture.  Was I looking for a replacement for A? Was my relationship with A on shaky ground? And even, was I going to ruin another good relationship?  My ex had been well-liked and respected, and I know that there was some feeling that I had caused the break-up (I had, but not in the way that some people thought) and thought that perhaps I was just being selfish, or flighty, or careless with yet another good man’s heart.

All that is long past. I exposed and publicize my blogs and postings quite openly now, but I do think holding back on “revealing all” was a sensible approach: although sometimes I still get the occasional “are you really okay?” after I post something horrific over there or after they see us scene together, I think they know that this is, truly, what I want, heart and soul, and that while it may not be for them, it really is good for me.  And they all seem to like and respect W, can see the strength of our relationship in its entirety, and know that it is precisely because of Ad’s and my solidity and love for each other that it all works so well.  And yes, sometimes the exhibitionist that lurks inside gets a little thrill to know that something I do titillates or shocks those around me, those that run into me at events, parties, and gatherings. Blast my narcissistic heart, but (okay, I admit it, W) I do get off on a little notoriety.

There’s another reason I wasn’t totally open about my blogs right from the start though; a reason many of us out here in the blogosphere have encountered and wrestle with, and the one I began this post talking about: how to balance my need to be open here, not to censor myself, with my desire not to ruffle feathers, not to cause confrontations, and not to use this in a way that hurts others.

Because I have been/done that.

I lost a very good friend and destroyed a relationship between myself, my ex and a woman that we were both involved with by writing something both hurtful and indiscreet in my old blog.  At the time, I felt it was necessary, a “wake up call” to some self-destructive behaviors, but my blog was neither the place nor the way to communicate that.  I recognize now that I did it that way precisely because I couldn’t confront her face-to-face, but blogging was both cowardly and passive/aggressive, and I regret doing it because I embarrassed and hurt her, something I wasn’t intending and would never have wanted to do.  That I learned a valuable lesson from it doesn’t make it okay.

I was initially cautious to even start blogging again, after that fiasco. I love to write, I love to muse on the things we do, to share my thoughts on life, on love and sex and happiness and pain and relationships and BDSM and everything else, but I was pretty gun shy. I so wanted share these things with W, the things I experience inside when we do this stuff, and I thought that he, of everyone I had known, would truly appreciate it, but I couldn’t be sure. There is nothing more disheartening than to share this space with someone, wanting them to know my innermost heart, only to discover that they don’t even bother to read it. It’s hard not to feel…slighted…by that.  Not to feel like they don’t really care to know about me.  Rationally I know that isn’t true, many people just don’t get into blogging or reading blogs, but, on an emotional level it’s a hard feeling to shake.  What if I did write all this stuff, and he didn’t read it?  Didn’t care?  I really liked him by that point, already knew I wanted to continue to be with him to explore what we had started, and I didn’t want to jeopardize that by feeling resentful because he didn’t read it.  Or, conversely, if he did and something I wrote hurt or angered him.  What if he broke up with me because of something I wrote, as she had?  And even worse (to me, personally, as a writer, as a blogger): I need to be honest in my blog, that’s why I write.  What if I was unable to be honest because I worried about his reaction all the time?

I needn’t have worried about him not being interested in what I write. W reads, and often comments on, everything I write. It is just another part of “paying attention,” as he does in a scene, I guess.  He listens: to my voice when we talk, to my words when I write, to my body when we play. It’s probably how I learned to be so multi-orgasmic with him–he and my body have very intimate talks, even when my brain isn’t engaged. lol

He has also insisted that this is my space, and that I should write whatever I want or need to here, even if I think he won’t like it.  In fact he insists that I do write whatever I want to here.

Recently, that edict was tested a bit.  I wrote some things, he didn’t like them, we had a pretty intense talk about it.  It was uncomfortable.  I felt bad.  But I did discover that even when I did say something stupid here, or something that he didn’t like, that upset or even hurt him, he didn’t stop loving me and he didn’t leave me.  The sky didn’t fall down and we didn’t fall apart.

I am learning that…sometimes…it’s okay to screw up. That doing so doesn’t mean the world falls apart. That I don’t have to always “go along to get along.” Yes, I gotta take my lumps when I say things that affect other people, but…that’s okay too. It’s part of communicating too.  Of learning.

Live, love and learn.


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