Doll strategies

As time has gone by and I've experimented a little with what turns me on, and doesn't turn me on, it has become clear that my arousal is tied to the whole concept of 'the doll'. Years ago, I would say that I was only interested in the 'mind' aspect of the doll, but once that's all established and simply part of the psyche, of course one wants more.

I determined that I needed to slim down and although my whole heart wasn't in it, in that I would fall off the wagon repeatedly every so often, I did lose weight and continue to work towards losing a few more kilos. Those kilos are important but so too is defining my figure and toning up. Now that I am starting to see results, I'm really excited about getting back to my best body, because, in my head at least, being in my doll space means being the most attractive, fit and supple doll that I can. It's important to my self-confidence because I know all too well that when I don't feel my best, it can weigh heavily on my mind.

Of course, the added bonus is that getting out each day and exercising makes me feel better. Nothing works better on any inclination towards depression or low mood than consistent exercise, and since I've never really been into competitive sport it's exciting to me that I'm getting fit. My Moroccan deli man is about my age and he has taken up running half Marathons just in the past few months. I spoke to him about how to become a runner and he gave me a few tips. (Basically, it's all in my head that I can't run...) I don't anticipate running a half Marathon ever, but if I could run every day around the park, gosh, I'd love that. This is my goal.

Then, there is the matter of underwear and lingerie. To feel my best what I wear against my skin is important and I'm going to do a bit of an upgrade there; more colour. How we present to the public is, of course, important, but it's all too easy to not give the same attention to undergarments, and this is another 'doll' goal of mine.

I'm incredibly, incredibly aroused by photographs of dolls being contained in any number of ways. I worship men who build contraptions for their dolls and buy paraphernalia that puts a doll deep in her dolly space. I wish I could explain this more, but the simple fact is that such images quite simply and instinctively thrill me to the core.  I happened to see some absolutely magnificent photographs yesterday and I'm not sure I got much real sleep last night at all. They were photographs of a doll maker interacting with his doll and, oh boy, did that do it for me!

If I was forced to explain it more I'd say that I think the arousal comes from the fact that a man who wants to create a doll, otherwise known as a 'doll maker', is so aroused by the whole process himself. Although, that isn't really an explanation because at this stage of the game if a man wanted to pee all over me, for example, I doubt I'd feel the same way about it. I don't get aroused by images like that at all, or the thought. So, it's about creating the doll, mutual pleasure; feelings of containment and connection...but mostly, my own very ardent desire to want to be turned into a doll. There is a place for  'service' of course, but service of mutual pleasure is what arouses me.

What has held me back from getting the pleasure and success of feeling more 'doll' is, quite simply, my own doubts about my attractiveness. I've had four pregnancies and they were big babies at birth. My tummy needs toning and slimming. I'm not huge by any means. I'm sure I have given the impression that I am, and I am not at all. But, I'm aware that I could be better, that's the thing, and I haven't been ready until now to admit it and to do something concrete and tangible about it myself.

In other words, I don't feel now, although it would be lovely, that I need direction on these body issue goals any more. I want to lose a little weight, to get fit; to live within my best body so that I can feel confident to move into my true doll self in a permanent and ever present way. This feels very empowering. For the first time in a long time, I'm feeling happy about my self as it exists in my body.

The final bow

As has been well chronicled, cindi has had a lot of encouragement to be the one and true identity. Goodness, my mentor was unhappy about this blog years ago. But, I held onto it and returned to it repeatedly feeling that it was a matter of survival really; that I'd be swamped without this blog to return to, to state my case, free of influence; free to say what was on my mind.

Something very profound happened nearly a week ago now. I had a session with a mind/body practitioner. You see, my emotional distress had become physical distress and my body was hurting so much - the left side of my body: my neck, shoulders, back and hip - that I couldn't walk up stairs without being in agony. I was never free of pain. And, the negative chatter in my head, that was relentless.

This practitioner is not a stranger to me. I met him over two years ago and I began to do some group work with him a few months ago. I was becoming aware of the mind/body connection and when I was in real trouble I sought him out, rather than, say, a physiotherapist. I knew I needed more.

He sat me down in front of him, face to face. He poured me a cup of Nature's Garden tea. He reminded me that the pain in my body was related to my emotions. I can't reconstruct how he managed to get me to spill all, but I did. I told him about cindi, about my true identity, my submissive mindset.

Actually, he used words to describe me, 'an obedient pet', I remember that now. He may have meant my role in my marriage, I'm not sure, but they were the words that opened the flood gates.

'You don't like me using those words, do you?'

'I can be that. I can play in those spaces. I love to play in those spaces.'

He took that in, nodded slightly, and that's when it all tumbled out.


He asked me if I was interested in having my face read. I don't enjoy having photos taken of me usually but I agreed and soon thereafter he sat me down again and showed me the face that people see and the interior me. He showed me cindi.

I was blown away. cindi isn't present on this blog. That's the exterior me.

cindi is profoudly, deeply vulnerable. She is more than submissive. I'd call her a slave. She lives in a small space. She is the embodiment of empathy and love. She needs a lot of love. She is crying out for it.

It was hard for me to look at cindi. Truly, I wished I could look away. She is that vulnerable. Still, I did continue to look at her, and as I looked at her, I accepted her as the real me.

'When you look out into the world ask, what does CINDI see? How would cindi respond to this person?'

Of course. Of course. The movement between the one persona and the other was hurting me.  I could see that now. I had to embrace cindi as my one and true entity. I had to live true to cindi.

It was time to heal my body and heal it he did. It was very painful at times but I have gone from excruciating pain on Monday to walking my dog within the Botanical Gardens on Friday afternoon virtually pain free.

The chatter has gone. The dreadful negative chatter that was filling my mind has gone. As cindi, true to myself, I am making decisions with clarity. My problems are not mysteriously and suddenly all gone, but I feel freer. I regularly check in with myself and this allows me to put what happens into a particular context. I can give out positive energy but I am not taking in negative energy. I am simply very content in my own skin.

It's been a long journey from the inception of this blog to now. It's often been a great comfort to write here and to receive some of the lovely comments I have received over time. They warmed my heart and reminded me that I was not alone. We are never truly alone, part of one big consciousness, but we must wrestle with our minds alone. We must find the strength and clarity to be true to ourselves. I urge you to do that.

Vesta bows and slips away; slips away peacefully. Be well.