Disclosures

This is a blog. In this blog is the writing...the processing of thoughts...of one woman who is on a discovery of exploration. I attempt to not make judgements about anybody or anything. I try to adopt a ‘live and let live’ approach. People are welcome to read or not to read, as they choose.

I have much to be thankful for. I don’t have a perfect life but I do have a sense of how to live well: to make the most of life, to strive for happiness through a positive state of mind; to put love first and to care for people.

I look for the common ground with those I meet; wherever I go. I listen and I care. I avoid conflict whenever possible. I try to bring some warmth into the lives of all who pass my way.

The writing here takes ‘the middle ground’ as well. I am aware that bad things happen on the fringes; that people hurt and that various practices of a D/s relationship are not pursued for ‘good’ in all cases. I am aware that there are people who behave badly; people who don’t care about other people. I know that all too well.

I don’t write about those people too often, if at all. It is my choice. I seek a higher purpose. I look to encourage my readers to find the good in life. My generalizations can be simplistic but they are simplistic for this reason. I try to enliven the positive spirit in all of us. I seek for the reader to tap into what is common to us all in some measure: our humanity.

If readers seek a comprehensive approach towards a topic, they should read elsewhere. There is plenty of talk on the Internet of that which is negative; people who do wrong; analytical debate.

My goal is for the reader to embrace that which is good and specifically, all the good that there can be in a dominant/submissive relationship. If that doesn’t suit, I won’t mind at all if you choose to read elsewhere.

Many readers have been with me from the outset. They read regularly and I am led to believe that they get something of value to them from reading here. I get a real boost from the thought that their lives may have been made a little happier; that their spirit may have received some sustenance. It is for them, as well as for me, that I write.

Beauty

This week has been an unremarkable week in the sense that there were ups and there were downs. When you live in a largish family, every week has its ups and downs and you have to ride the waves. I surf the waves as best I can and when necessary I take my board and go and sit on the sand and just watch the water for a bit. That gets me by.

Technically speaking, the news that a friend has breast cancer and will begin radiation next week; that she will lose her lovely head of hair, should not have hit hard. She isn't the first friend to go through this process, and I've walked with a close family member down that road as well. But, it did hit me hard this week. I suppose it was a reminder on a beautiful day, in a beautiful country garden, that life can change on a dime. What we have today, can be gone tomorrow.

She will be all right. She believes that. And, I believe that. And, so do the friends who have walked this road before her. The prognosis is good. But, it's a timely reminder, I think, to live your life now.

I doubt we can all agree on how to live a life well any more than we can agree on any topic. For me, it is to love well; to be kind, gracious, affirming. Each person can change the world a little with a kind act, a smile, a sense of care. Love is not just something we feel, but the things we do.

It is an old saying: that beauty comes from within, but it is true. Think kind thoughts. Do noble deeds. Rise up and be the best you can be. This is true beauty. This is a life well lived. This is this thought that sustains me.

Choice

There was a darling article in the weekend paper recently concerning feminists in the noughties. The author proposed "for noughtie girls, feminist demands are based less on political ideologies than on the experience of our day-to-day lives." She goes on to say, "For me, feminism is about having choices - from influencing who runs the country to choosing whether I wear high heels or flats."

I immediately liked this gal. She was making a lot of sense, as far as I was concerned. I sent my daughter to a school who demanded you aim high in your areas of choice. My daughter was fortunate, now that I look back on it, to be embraced for who she is: talented in both the performing and creative arts. That she would not go on to perform brain surgery was okay, so long as she worked hard to do her best in the subjects she chose.

Perhaps, having had three brothers has influenced her mindset but she isn't a strident feminist at all. I'm extraordinarily proud of her latest personal achievements and she is a girl on a mission to prove herself in a competitive industry. But she's sees, even at her young age, that a girl needs to be sensible about how life works. She has already discovered that even young men have rather strong opinions about how a girl behaves, and dresses, and no shouting from the rooftops about 'I am women, hear me roar' is going to change that.

Men enjoy women who show pride in their appearance; who are kind, warm-hearted and who appreciate what a man does for them. Good men want to see their women happy. They revel in their accomplishments and are the first ones to celebrate their successes. They do their best to ease the burden on them when things get tough, and, most importantly, they listen to them when they need to process their upsets and concerns. Men are not the enemy. Men are our salvation. My daughter already knows this and I am so glad she does. When the right man comes along for her she won't miss him.

The author of the article had this to say about 'beauty politics': "Noughtie feminism is perfectly compatible with aspiring to external beauty. If we want to wear make-up or attractive clothes, we can...But feminists know that beauty is never the best way of judging whether someone is a nice person..."

I think a man hopes for the whole package, frankly: a woman who cares enough to make herself look good for him and a person who is good on the inside, too. Together, men and women will support one another in their choices of what they want to be; how they want to live their lives.

In the past few years, I've taken a 'time out' to explore who I am, deep inside. My husband has supported my efforts and embraced the changes. At times, I have been unsettled, for change is not always easy. But, he has always been there for me, encouraging me in my choices and wanting me to be all that I want to be for myself. In the same way, I've supported his endeavors to the best of my ability. I continue to learn, each and every day, what a wondrous thing it is when two people enable one another to flourish.

All of us in my family strongly support each other's choices in life. We respect one another's differences and we are tolerant of our various mindsets. Feminists fought hard to enable choice and we are indebted to them. It has been an unsettled couple of days but the dolly is back where she belongs, letting her spirits soar. As a girl of the noughties, this is my choice.

Will

Have *I* been eliminated? Hardly. The person who knows me best - my husband - would scoff at the suggestion. The *I* is here, in all her glory, her emotion and her zest. As Sir J put it to me, anyone who underestimates the strength of Vesta does not know her well enough. Vesta is one hell of a force of nature and it would be pointless to try to erase her. Her mind, her heart, her soul is intact.

But, and it's a very big but, Vesta does seek to be contained. She wants to experience objectification because she finds it comforting, arousing, erotic and whole heap of fun. She knows her behaviour isn't always that impressive and as the doll she has to be on her best behaviour. Why, the doll wore her butt plug all day this week to a day long school event and she loved every last kinky minute of it. She is her husband's play thing because she revels in it and has the bestest orgasms that a girl could ever have. She doesn't worry and she doesn't fuss. She is such a happy l'il thing. She renounces her will with bells on!

Vesta may be ensnared but does anybody hear her crying for help? The doll was created and supported to be sure but only because *I* get off on it. Vesta has to behave herself, but it's not doing her any harm. She may have the odd hissy fit about it. But, that's all it is. And, Vesta will just have to find more appropriate ways to express herself.

Trust me. The doll can't wipe the smile from her face. What's more, Vesta is doing just fine, too.

The doll

In the past few months, I’ve been participating in a special kind of training. With my husband’s consent, I’ve been open and willing to be led to a place that, perhaps, not many people go. I’ve been working with a dominant man with the goal of becoming ‘the doll’. I’ve eluded to it any number of times and a discerning reader could have filled in the dots already. I’ve talked a little of anal training, of dress codes and of my gorgeous acrylic, red slutty nails. I’ve even alluded to the ‘bimbo speeki’ which I adopt in discussions.

The vigilant reader would have noted that ‘the doll’ appeared a few months ago. It was early in the proceedings when she simply emerged in conversation. In fact, she emerged when she was given her name and she is very much her own...doll. The doll was introduced to ‘bimbo speeki’ and she embraced it quite naturally. From the outset, she referred to herself in the third person as the object that she is.

Recently, ‘the gurl’, the girl with the over-thinking brain, broke into the doll’s account and had a few things to say, but she was not made welcome and she left as quickly and unceremoniously as she arrived. ‘The gurl’ does ‘the doll’ no favours. She confuses her, tells her she is “stooopid” and if she is really worked up, she will even lock her up in the cupboard. She “kidnaps” the doll and makes her life miserable.

‘The gurl’ thinks she knows it all. She uses her brains, her intellect and her education to persuade the doll that she is “right”. ‘The gurl’ is strident and she refuses to be put in her place. She may accept that she is a ‘bottom’, and she may even say that she wants to be submissive like the doll, but when things are not to her liking, she wants to manipulate everything to her own choosing. The sweet, good natured doll doesn’t stand a chance against her passion, her emotions, her intellect and her “sensibilities”.

This training, for me, is more than a type of ‘game’. It is an opportunity to feel free and liberated; to live in harmony and at peace. The benefits to me are not at all easy to explain. Yet, I feel I want to try because if you don’t know about ‘the doll’ (I’m just not ready to tell you the doll’s name), then you don’t really have an opportunity to understand me and what I seek.

My trainer (for want of a better word) asked me recently how I feel about ‘bimbo speeki’; if I was prepared to only speak to him in that way, and my response was in the affirmative. Although he enjoys the mode himself, he has made it clear many times that he only wants to lead me where I want to go, and he checks my mindset regularly. I was explaining something to him about my weekend when he suggested that perhaps this was better explained in girl language.

In fact, ‘bimbo speeki’ was entirely appropriate for me to explain myself to him. “Why?” he wanted to know. Well, in bimbo speeki I am contained. In that mode, I am the doll and I react as the doll would. I know my place. I’m not at all bright (as one would expect of a doll) and I don’t have the capacity or the desire to argue or worry. I remain the passive, pretty dolly and I let it all wash over me.

In girl language, my emotions and upset would have got in the way. I would have felt ‘unglued’ and out of control and my ability to function would have been impaired. I’ve been there countless times before and I never ever enjoyed it, found it productive or have ever wished to return, although I did, over and over. ‘The gurl’ may worry about things, from petty to important; hold grudges, be petulant and even rage, but never once did her unglued state work in her favour. ‘The gurl’ had tried to emulate the doll perhaps, but the doll was unthinkingly being herself. ‘The gurl’ was unhappy: the doll was not.

Make no mistake. What I am doing is not easy. A doll accepts. The owner of a doll can do whatever he wants. A doll is always pretty. A doll always smiles. A doll can be put back on the shelf. On the other hand, a good owner takes care of his dolly well and enjoys playing with her with enthusiasm. She is delicate and he handles her with care (although that care might include rough play). He loves her well. He ensures her needs are met. Lucky dollies have very good owners, and I am a lucky dolly. The dolly on the shelf has a charmed life. She loves her owner and her owner loves her. Life is good.

The opportunity for me to express myself in girl language here on this site has not been discouraged. This is the site of the girl who needs to express her thoughts in the way in which she is accustomed. She is going nowhere and nor should she. But, she is not welcome on the doll’s account and she won’t go there again. Should she feel the need, she has other avenues to express what is on her mind. She has acknowledged that the doll is here to stay and she is even prepared to make some room for the doll here. Secretly, she rather admires and envies the pretty, pink, happy dolly. ‘The gurl’ deludes herself that she has the power, but has been forced to admit that it is the dolly who is powerful. She holds her owner’s heart in the palm of her hands.

No turning back

I often speak about a sense of ‘connection’ here on my little blog and I do so for good reason. As human beings we are driven to find connections with others and the more we do so, the more complete we feel.

It is also true that we cannot really feel connected to life unless we spend time alone and have a sense of balance within ourselves. We have to really like ourselves, and approve of ourselves.

I admit I never really envisaged a life on my own. I always wanted a husband and to have a family and I never gave the option of being a single girl much consideration. Yet, I have no crystal ball that can tell me what lies ahead for me and one day I may be that single girl; family grown up and on my own. I take life one step at a time and so I don’t dwell on this thought but rather know that it is a possibility one day into the future. I think it is the reason why I want to enjoy every day now. My husband tends to live life as if it will go on forever but I am forever the pragmatist. I want my fun now, or as soon as humanly possible.

I’m a girl who well remembers how she felt at different times in her life. I haven’t forgotten what it was to be a shy school girl, or a girl who hungered for an experience she wondered if she would ever have. I remember the thrill of being told I was pregnant for the first time. Having a life inside me thrilled me to my core. I remember it all rather well: the good and the not so good.

Remembering my thoughts as I do, and all the possibilities of a life before me, I sometimes wonder how I could, at such a young age, have chosen the man I would marry. I know that my friends and I caution our daughters not to be in a hurry to marry, and in fact, I was cautioned, too. There is no greater decision that will change the course of our lives than to choose a partner until death us do part.

And, in amongst it all, all the changes that occur when we wed, there remains the identity of the single person. If you don’t agree, try going to a school reunion some twenty years after you graduate. You are not Mr or Mrs Blogs. You are Vess or George or the nerdy girl who did all her work. You are you; always.

From the day I married I have followed my husband; to the other side of the world, to experiences good and bad. I am still Vesta but my life that day was forever altered. When the Minister said, “...that no man shall put asunder...” those words were taken very literally. My husband needs the connection to me as strongly as any man ever needed his mate, at the same time as he insists on his autonomy; on doing everything his own way.

It is only human to wonder what might have happened to me had I waited longer to make a choice. We will never know. There are times when his behaviour unsettles me and I must find solace in my inner world: that place inside of me that stands alone.

Yet, it cannot be denied that until the moment when I reach over to find his body in my bed and intertwine it with my own that I cannot feel at one. I am Vesta but only half of a whole without him.

He completes me.

Internal balancing

When my daughter was at school, there was lots of talk about “balance”. They talked of balancing out one’s day; doing masses of work but leaving a little time for play, getting some exercise, being creative and so on. Girls were encouraged to seek balance for themselves going forward in terms of career, a possible family, friends and travel. Over and over again, the message was delivered loud and clear, that a girl from this school could be anything she wanted to be; do anything she wanted to do.

In a D/s relationship, two people tend to balance each other out. One has a strong desire to lead and the other to follow. One may wish to mould and the other may be willing to be moulded. One may believe he is right and the other may be prepared to yield to that version of the world. One may have rigid views and the other person more fluid in her thinking.

In discussions re D/s relationships about a dominant man and a submissive woman, it may sometimes appear that the dominant man is strong and the submissive woman, weak. I don’t believe that is the case at all. Submissive women show enormous tenacity; a willingness to bend(!!), to try again, to improve, to make themselves more their partner’s perfect mate, to forgive, to manipulate their minds. Time and time again, a submissive woman demonstrates resiliency and resolve to overcome setbacks; to endure; to make it right.

We must recognize ourselves for who we are: smart, capable, resilient and embracing of our own ability to grow and change. Whatever our man’s needs, we make room for them. We make it right. Without our strength of character submission would be not possible. The next time a submissive woman doubts herself, she might think about that. She is her own internal balancing act.