Collar

The collar that I wear is both lovely and evocative. It is not, however, a piece that I wear to school. While I wear the BDSM logo medallion and the heron medallion that hangs on the same chain, everywhere, I remove the collar before I leave for school each day. It also comes off anytime I will be in a setting where wearing it might create "issues" for Master or for us (either in a professional sense or within the extended circle of our families).

Generally, I take care of the management of that. I take it off, and I put it back on. It isn't something that we talk about much. It simply is.

One of the things that began to come up for me over the last few months was the sense that it simply didn't matter. The mechanics of putting it on and taking it off seemed to be something that I attended to and that I noticed and that I cared about. I came to feel that if it didn't matter to Him, it probably was just a silly game I was playing with myself. It really came to seem that He didn't notice whether I wore it or not.

There was sadness and exhaustion and a sort of giving up that I knew I shouldn't have given in to, but I fell short of what I ought to have done. So, in time, I simply stopped wearing it... for about a month, maybe a little more.

Then, about two weeks ago, He asked me about it: "Where is your collar?"

I told Him the simple truth -- where I had it stored, and why I'd stopped putting it on.

He was not cruel, but He was decisive and emphatic. I would wear it at home and He would insist upon it. I'd remember who I was and to whom I belonged. It mattered. Of course, it mattered.

I've worn it exactly as I should since then -- exactly as both of us want. It is, for me, a tiny thing that brings me joy and peace and calm.

swan

Offering Oneself

There is a prayer tradition that goes back to St. Ignatius Loyola. In Latin, the prayer he wrote in the 16th century begins with the word "suscipe." There are variants on this particular prayer, written by others, since. Each time I hear this, I am struck by a sense that the language needs very little tweaking to come very close to the sort of pledge and promise that I might make within my life with Master...

"Receive, O Lord, all my liberty. Take my memory, my understanding, and my entire will. Whatsoever I have or possess Thou hast bestowed upon me; I give it all back to Thee and surrender it wholly to be governed by Thy Will. Give me love for Thee alone along with Thy grace, and I am rich enough and ask for nothing more."

swan

Have Dinner... Will Travel

We are home. It is just after 9:00 here, and we've probably been home about an hour and a half. Once again, we've managed to prepare a full-fledged, traditional (but diabetic-friendly -- always) Thanksgiving feast, and then pack and haul it all across the city to the assisted living facility where Master's parents live.

We gathered there with His (our?) ex-wife, His children, the boyfriend of the daughter, Grandma and Grandpa, an employee from Master's agency, and the family dog. We hardly even blink nowadays as we schlepp it all in and set it all up and produce a moveable feast right there in the community space at "the home." Tah Dah!

Then, it's a matter of clearing, cleaning, re-packing -- and dragging it all home again...

There is the sense of accomplishment; the knowledge that we pulled it off and that it was good -- and there is an unbelievable tiredness. But, once again we were all together, against all the odds. That is amazing in itself.

For my part, I notice, that a holiday that once was laden with the dread of family angst is lighter. After four and a half years, I am finally able to find the places where I can simply flow with the day and enjoy the things that I do enjoy in this. Even last night, when I answered my phone to find Mother on the other end, it was only to note that I felt sad for her and no longer angry with her. She has finally managed to drive pretty much everyone away, and so will be limited to the company of the fellow that she "dates" for dinner on the holiday. I also notice that my sadness for her does not make me feel compelled to try to "fix" it for her. My life is here.

Tomorrow, we will gather with T's mom and her niece and nephew. We'll settle in and dine on a Mexican meal -- a break from the turkey frenzy of today, and that will be another part of our weekend together.

We'll take note of the passage of time, of years marked in careers and relationships and in this place. It seems that, for us, this time has brought a number of turnings. Turnings that continue to bring us back to this -- we are home, here, together.

Wherever you are this night; whatever you are doing; whoever it is that you are holding close in your hearts -- may you be as rich in family and love as we feel.

swan

Marriage Politics

I don't usually do politics here. It's November, however, so perhaps I can be forgiven for one.

The election season is FINALLY ended, and from the standpoint of changing the balance of power within our federal government, the news was surely good (at least from our perspective). I am feeling hopeful, and that was surely not the case two years ago after the election. Still. I find that I have an abiding and deep sadness and hurt that grows with each cycle. It comes from the ever lengthening list of states where there are now laws and amendments that, in one way or another, limit or outright deny the possibilities of marriage or civil union to any but traditional "one man and one woman" couples. Ohio is, perhaps not surprisingly, right up there with the worst of them:

Ohio law states: “A marriage may only be entered into by one man and one woman. … Any marriage between persons of the same sex is against the strong public policy of this state. Any marriage between persons of the same sex shall have no legal force or effect in this state and, if attempted to be entered into in this state, is void ab initio [null from the beginning] and shall not be recognized by this state. Any marriage entered into by persons of the same sex in any other jurisdiction shall be considered and treated in all respects as having no legal force or effect in this state and shall not be recognized by this state. The recognition or extension by the state of the specific statutory benefits of a legal marriage to nonmarital relationships between persons of the same sex or different sexes is against the strong public policy of this state. Any public act, record, or judicial proceeding of this state, as defined in section 9.82 of the Revised Code, that extends the specific statutory benefits of legal marriage to nonmarital relationships between persons of the same sex or different sexes is void ab initio. Nothing in division (C)(3) of this section shall be construed to do either of the following: (a) Prohibit the extension of specific benefits otherwise enjoyed by all persons, married or unmarried, to nonmarital relationships between persons of the same sex or different sexes, including the extension of benefits conferred by any statute that is not expressly limited to married persons, which includes but is not limited to benefits available under Chapter 4117 of the Revised Code; (b) Affect the validity of private agreements that are otherwise valid under the laws of this state. Any public act, record, or judicial proceeding of any other state, country, or other jurisdiction outside this state that extends the specific benefits of legal marriage to nonmarital relationships between persons of the same sex or different sexes shall be considered and treated in all respects as having no legal force or effect in this state and shall not be recognized by this state.”The Ohio Constitution states: “Only a union between one man and one woman may be a marriage valid in or recognized by this state and its political subdivisions. This state and its political subdivisions shall not create or recognize a legal status for relationships of unmarried individuals that intends to approximate the design, qualities, significance or effect of marriage."

Usually, I don't think much about the idea of "marriage." Clearly, ours is not a relationship that is even remotely typical or traditional. But, I just don't feel like there is anything at all about our family that threatens the fabric of society, and I do find it wearing (sometimes) to bear the onus of judgement that society turns on our relationship. It forces a secretiveness and a loneliness that becomes exhausting sometimes. We have to be forever on guard -- ever watchful. So much that others find simple and just "assumed" as part of their right, we cannot do or we have to fight for. It seems unfair; unreasonable; unkind.

I found this Hannah Arendt quote that, I think, sums up the sense I have about this:

The right to marry whoever one wishes is an elementary human right compared to which "the right to attend an integrated school, the right to sit where one pleases on a bus, the right to go into any hotel or recreation area or place of amusement, regardless of one's skin or color or race" are minor indeed. Even political rights, like the right to vote, and nearly all other rights enumerated in the Constitution, are secondary to the inalienable human rights to "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness" proclaimed in the Declaration of Independence; and to this category the right to home and marriage unquestionably belongs. [Dissent, Winter 1959]

Perhaps it is because I've been feeling more tender, more raw, more fragile these weeks and months. It is harder to walk the narrow edge when you are wobbly. Especially when the edge seems artificial and arbitrary. I don't know that I "want" a marriage in the traditional sense. I've been there and done that -- it wasn't entirely satisfactory.

I do however live with a deep awareness of being "at risk" within the society. Ours is a particularly conservative city. I work in a conservative (and moralistic) environment, and I know that, should the truth of my lifestyle become known, I'd pay dearly in terms of livelihood and social stigma. Most likely, it wouldn't just be me either. We move with great caution in our public lives. Exposure would jeopardize us in ways that are incomprehensible to most "normal" couples.

It is hard not to ask, "why?" What is it that we do that so jeopardizes the rights or beliefs of others as to make it necessary to keep us forever on the outside looking in -- marginalized and ostracized?

I find this statement by the American Friends Service Committee (AFSC), says what I think about the subject quite simply (except for the persistent reference to "couples"): Culture Wars

The queries and challenges raised by the statement are sensible and valid, in my view. Is it just me?

Ultimately, I believe that it will come to pass that we will grow up and understand that loving relationships are not a threat to our society; that families come in all sorts of configurations and that supporting and nurturing that is a good thing and not a bad one. Someday, I hope our society will be strengthened by the power of all those who love and care for the others in their lives who are important to them, and that we will refuse to allow ANYONE to scare us into believing that our own rights or faith or beliefs can somehow be diminished by allowing others to have theirs as well. Someday, perhaps in my lifetime, we as a nation and as a people, will stand up to our leaders and demand that they call us to be the best that is within us rather than leading us into fear and suspicion and hatred.

swan

Surviving Together

We've made it to the end of an immensely challenging week. There seems to be no end to the vagaries that life can lay in our path these days. Certainly, it is never dull, although I think we'd settle for dull at this point, and be glad for it.

A couple of weeks back, when I wrote that I'd disintegrated in a session (after only a single stroke of the strap), and He'd let it go, Doc Avid wrote, "Can I ask, what do you think would have happened if he had pushed?"

The short answer to that question is that I don't know. There are, I think, probably good reasons for Him to have stopped when He did. It was (and is) entirely His call.

I think His judgement is that the severity of my depression is extreme enough that it warrants some caution on His part. He has background and training that qualifies Him to evaluate that.

It is not unheard of for Him to push me beyond where I am comfortable or "happy" to go. I have "broken" in session before and He has certainly pushed through that and dealt with whatever has come up. We do not use any sort of "safeword. We rely instead on our knowledge of one another and our trust in each other. He cares for me. He acts to ensure my well being physically and emotionally -- even as we engage in SM eroticism that can range all the way to intensely painful.

Is the question about what I might have wished would have happened? Wishes are something else again. I deeply wish for earlier times when we played with abandon and frequently and with joy. Part of me wishes for much more intense control, for more deeply felt dominance. As I've wobbled, I've "dreamed" that He would scoop me up and hold me tightly and reign me in so tightly that I'd be unable to spin so out of control. Of course, I understand that what I'm wanting is to shift a good chunk of the responsibility off of my own shoulders -- and I know it doesn't work that way. He can't fix this by insisting that I wear my collar; by pushing me through a session; by keeping me well spanked. Still it is appealing to dream it.

Even Masters cannot play the "White Knight" when it comes to real life. Life is not like the fairy tales I read as a child. There are real issues and real problems. Not all of those problems and issues are mine. Many of them have nothing at all to do with the erotic side of our lives; with poly, or with BDSM. They have to do with life, with family, with work, with getting on and going on.

The advocacy organization that is both livelihood and life's work for Master is facing an economic crisis of monumental proportions. The survival of the agency (and those it supports) is at risk, and so too is a significant chunk of our household income. We continue to adjust to the new constraints of the "fatty liver" diagnosis and the attendant new lifestyle changes. Himself has been battling some sort of injury to the muscles in His feet that has had Him hobbled up and sore for the last couple of weeks. No amount of rubbing and massage has worked to heal the damage so far. Too, He is attempting to cope with the needs of His aging parents, and struggling to help find appropriate care for them -- particularly as His mother moves further and further into are-related dementia. Holidays approach with their joys but also their stresses.

He has plenty on His shoulders already.

And, this last week, T worked long hours the last three days to catch up for the time she took off to be with me and for me as we all took Cleo the Wonder Cat to the vet. Along the way, she managed to pick up a fair amount of my laundry while I attended meetings and took care of "school" stuff and tried to keep on breathing.

Much of this is going to have to be handled the way our family handles so much -- with good old fashioned patience and effort and probably just time. We'll continue to seek out whatever professional help seems appropriate, as we find it necessary. We'll be as creative and innovative and strong as we can possibly manage. We'll hold on tight to one another, and pick up the slack for each other. We'll use the frameworks and structures that we have built to support and guide us to workable solutions. In the end, I'm betting it is going to come down to some variant of "suck it up and deal with it." Oh well. We're tougher than we might look. This getting old stuff is not for sissies.

And, it isn't all grim either. We have found some moments of simple pleasure, when we snuggle up together around the fire, find Pranzer cat prowling from one to the other of us making sure to spread the love out evenly, get surprised by a long forgotten bit of sexual release from out of nowhere, manage a really good session, enjoy a great meal together, have the pure luxury of shared laughter...

This afternoon, we'll bundle in together, and cheer wildly as our Ohio State Buckeyes whomp the heck out of Michigan. It is the battle we've been waiting for all season. I think we are all anticipating the escape; the break from our everyday; the time out to indulge in a bit of "tribal" wildness and frivolity.

And, as T reminds us all, the week will draw us toward the Thanksgiving holiday and a time to gather once again with our spread out parts and give thanks for all we DO have.

We survive together.

swan

Bird Day for a Bird Clan

We have probably posted about Thanksgiving before, but for new peepers it bears repeating. When you live in a Poly household, or any blended family for that matter, holidays can become the 3-headed monster wailing in the corner! Swan's family is in Colorado. My family is about 1 hour north of us. Our Ex (what I call Tom's ex-wife, because she is my ex-wife too, after all) is in town with our son. Tom's parents live here in a Senior Care facility. Tom's daughter and her SO live over an hour north. There are logistics whenever we plan an event. Tom's Mom cannot travel, so we cook, haul, and travel to her with all the various elements for whatever Holiday we are celebrating. There will be 9 of us coming from 4 directions. Swan will do the bird, stuffing, potatoes and gravy. The Ex will do her special potatoes, green bean casserole, and champagne. The daughter and SO will haul from the SO's family as quickly as possible, usually bearing flowers for Swan, Ex, and Grandma and some silly item for Moi (last year it was a stuffed turkey that gobbled and sang). And I will do the prep, sides, breads, and pies. Tom, son, SO, and Grandpa will try to stay out of our way. Grandma will try to appear less confused than she truly is. And we will all be thankful that we are all together again, praying that we have another year. And when it is all over and we have been able to haul all our dirties to our respective homes, Tom, Swan, and I will be ever so thankful that we are a family and that we have each other....... and that we don't have to do that for another month!

........ Until the next day..... My family is 1 hour north. It is just too hard to do Bird Day Deux so we usually go up to my Mom's 1 day that weekend for a big blow-out Mexican dinner. Nope, no one is Latino. We just have had enough Bird and fixings and all love Mexican food, so we just make it a "thing". My brother's wife does several items. My Mom does her thing. Swan and I make some stuff and we all converge at Mom's. Usually about 12 or so people and it is as loud and crazy as the previous meal was calm. My Mom is the Mom-of-All. She just scoops people up. It's always been her way. And Swan is not just "T's friend", she is treated as family at Mom's. My brother's kids treat her as another Aunt. She is included in everything, there is never a question of her not being at a family event.....why?......well....cuz she IS family. We have never discussed the Poly-thing with the family. It's just not necessary. They all know that Swan is a valued part of Tom's and my life and that is good enough.

So wherever, however, whenever you give Thanks this week. Remember to "Give Thanks" for family. I have a bunch. But the one I am most thankful for is the one I get to come home to every night. Tom & Swan. They are the best. They are my heart.

Have a great Holiday!

T

Granny Cat Races

Swan has a beautiful cat. Cleo is all black with white boots and blaze and whiskers. She is a scaredy cat. She is a butter-begger. She loves to have cat races thru' the condo. She loves sunshine. But most of all, she loves Swan.

Seems things with the Clan have been rough lately. Tom's having alot of job stress. Swan is having health issues. I am fussing over the fact that this year I just wish that Christmas was already over. And last night Cleo, the wonder-cat didn't get up off the floor. And all of our crap flew out the window. It is amazing how quickly all the worries in the world fade away when a ball of fur gets deathly ill. Tom had come home from work and Cleo, who is Swan's 17 year-young cat was laying in the bedroom by the closet. She didn't trot out to greet him as usual, but sometimes she doesn't, so he didn't think anything of it. When Swan got home from her appointment, I had dinner ready and she came straight over and didn't really get eyes on Cleo right away, but when they went back to other side of the condos later, Tom came hoofing back to get me because he thought that Cleo was dying. I went back and spent some time with Swan and Cleo before going to bed. Cleo was not well. Appeared to be impaired mentally, somehow and was unable to walk or stand on her rear legs. I thought for sure that I would be awaken this morning to the news of her passing, but she was alive and in the same state. Swan decided to take her to be put to sleep. I made arrangements to come home from work early. Tom came home early. We went to the Vets as a family. Swan had planned to go alone. She told me that with a previous pet she had taken them alone. (There are times that I could really really REALLY smack HE-WHO-SHALL-REMAIN-NAMELESS for his insensitivity!!!) I told her that we are a family and this is what families do....TOGETHER. And the Vet gave us a glimmer of hope. And we brought Cleo, the Wonder-Cat home. We are going to wait out blood tests. We might be doing kitty IVs for awhile. But dammit, we will do them as a family. And one way or another either on this side of the Bridge or the other, there will be Granny Cat Races again!

This is where things are. Sort of

It is terribly confusing living with me, I imagine. I can see it in the baffled looks that I am getting and from the delicate handling that I am receiving... clearly I am crazy.

I disintegrated completely last weekend after a single stroke of the strap, and He let it go -- afraid to push me any further.

I saw my primary care physician on Monday, and got a new prescription for a different anti-depressant. Maybe that will help, although the doctor was quite clear that counseling was imperative. "You are not 21 or 35 -- things change... and you have to come to terms with that." So far, the new medicine mostly makes me queasy. I'm losing weight. Maybe this is good.

I still am not sleeping well. Unless I take benadryl at bedtime, I am usually awake in the middle of the night for two or three hours. It is that "all alone in the dark" time when I spin myself into a tizzy.

I made an appointment with the "shrink" for Tuesday. This person is supposedly "kink-aware." Maybe that will make this easier. I can't imagine talking about any of this to a vanilla person. How can that conversation proceed past the first 10 minutes I wonder? No... the kink aware thing is good. The shrink part makes me physically ill. But there is command propelling it.

Master did take me this morning and take me through a pretty good spanking and paddling and strapping. He made sure He held onto me the whole time -- kept me close and secure. It was better than it has been in a long time. I was not overwhelmed or overcome. I was able to stay and breathe and simply be. At the end, I was a little calmer and a bit relieved.

I am not a believer in SM as the cure for anything, but I am certain that part of what has happened is that He and I have somehow lost touch with one another in a very real sense. I believe that I have created the space that divides us -- that the distancing is my fault. I just don't know how to close the gap. I see and feel and hear the tentativeness in Him and it scares me. When He pulls me in close, I can feel the heaviness that weighs me down lift, and yet I push and fight and snarl and pout. And each time that happens, He retreats even further. Knowing that I'm doing it is not helping me. I can feel the place that needs to be controlled, and I cannot stop the torrent of anger and fear and panic that drives it on.

So. That's sort of where things are. Sort of.

swan