A Beginning

I have been struggling with how to begin this; how to introduce myself in this sort of setting.

I created this blog about two weeks ago and it’s just sat here, staring at me. I got so far as to write an entire entry out, and then read a very powerful post by another…and immediately deleted the whole damn thing.

It’s a question, I think, of what side of myself I wish to portray on here. I know one author who has turned her blog into a fantasy world, portraying what she would like to be and do in order to cope with her every day life. I know another who tells true accounts of an aspect of her life..with a twist, but is true about who she is. A third shows only one side of himself, and is only able to show that side under anonymity.

What about me? What do I want to show?

 

I resist any thing better than my own diversity, 

Breathe the air but leave plenty after me, 

And am not stuck up, and am in my place.

 

Walt Whitman and I are old friends. He is safe and familiar in a world that is neither to me.

I did not search out Sir. He found me, and he managed to find me at a moment when I was thoroughly determined to ignore any sort of dating or romantic interest and focus on scholarly pursuits and moving on. The evening before my ex, who is also one of my best friends, had told me that after two and a half years of he and I being..messy, complicated, and what I often referred to as a ‘clusterfuck’, he had met someone, and that the romantic and sexual parts of our relationship were over. Rather than throw a tantrum I simply decided to focus on other things. I had gotten into my choice grad school in Portland, Oregon. I was ready to start fresh, and focus on my masters and my work. I figured I only had a month left in San Francisco. I would survive, go home to my parents to recharge, and then move on, and figure out how he and I could be friends while we had a safer distance between us. Hence, the desire to remove all of my dating profiles.

And so, I logged on to the alternative dating website I had set up months before and had largely ignored. I am young, in my early twenties, and have had an interest in BDSM since my late teens that has escalated as my relationships have gone on. I had created the account to learn more, to see who was out there, and had quickly been disappointed by the messages I received (I was not a premium member of the site, and therefore could not reach out to anyone I had interest in). They ranged from men in their late twenties/early thirties who simply wished to fuck me to men in their 50’s/60’s who continually asked if I wanted a ‘daddy Dom’ (I was interested in no such thing). I had long since given up actually meeting anyone on the website that could teach me anything, and thought nothing of deleting the website account and cutting that side of myself off. I had repressed my interest thus far. It could be deferred again.

And then I read his message.

Do you know that feeling where suddenly everything slows for a moment, and a chill of anticipation slides up your spine? That’s what happened. Before I could stop myself I was writing a reply, as careless as some I had written in the past, nonchalantly giving away my e mail to get me off of that damn website. I wanted to talk to him, something told me I had to, but I wanted to get away from the others. I was almost immediately chided for giving away information so easily and freely and given a task to complete. I was to respond to him, not with sexual photos as others had asked for, or my number, or any such things like that, but with my back story, and with information about my time in San Francisco. He wanted to know more. So did I.

That night changed everything. I began a journey I hadn’t seen coming.

I am Pagan; I have been a practicing Witch for most of my life (perhaps I”ll write more about that in another post), and part of my practice has always been divination. I’ve been drawn to the Tarot since I was around twelve, for the pictures and for what the cards could tell me. I usually get a bit of a heads up on certain events in life because of them. I don’t like surprises.

Sir was 100% a surprise. He still is, in many ways.

One of the first tasks he gave me was to begin writing daily in a journal, 200 words. The first entries were hard. I hadn’t written in a very long time. I used to keep a journal, but I would stop writing every time things became too overwhelming instead of actually examining what I was feeling and working through it. I used to write as well.. stories, poems, but over time I almost felt like I had lost the ability to. It wasn’t easy anymore, or freeing. It was painful, like pulling teeth, and left me exhausted and drained after just a few pages.

After a couple journal entries I began to remember why I had loved writing. I took solace in it every day and found that I tended to write much more than 200 words. For a while it was enough, and then Sir showed me the blog of a friend of his; an experienced 24/7 sub that I could learn quite a lot from. I began eating up her entries, taking notes along the way, and learning quite a lot from them while at the same time further getting to know Sir and the requirements and restraints of our relationship. I began wanting more than just my journal, which was quickly filling up (and which will only be seen by Sir, as well as myself). And so I made this blog.

I find myself questioning things that I thought I was so sure about as I continue to walk this path; vanilla tenants hammered into my head as I’ve grown. I’m questioning how much I actually believe, and how much I was just expected to believe, and I’m curious to see if there are others out there just starting this path..or those that have been on it for eons that can answer some of my questions. I’m curious to see if anyone else is questioning the same things I am. In certain ways I am still very curious about BDSM in general, and still have SO MUCH I need to learn, and process, and vent about.

Before this journey began I was complacent with my place in life. It was acceptable to me that I was just..average. Not remarkable, or memorable. I existed. I went through motions. I worked. I had been thought of as a burden to others, and had been told such in the past. I had been thought of as fat, ugly, and useless. I’m beginning to learn how untrue almost all of this is.

I suppose this blog will capture my learning process. I don’t know what Sir will think of me writing this. I had told him when he showed me his friend’s blog that she was very brave; that I couldn’t imagine sharing what she was sharing. And I told him the truth.

I couldn’t be a graphic as she is; I’m just not comfortable with it. This blog is less about the physical aspects about my relationship and more about the mental and the emotional, and the search for feedback. The satiation of curiosity.

I am Rena, and this is the beginning of my journey.

 

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