Trust, Privacy and Openness

For all my openness and blogging and social media, I am at the core, a private person.  I have trusted many, and been burned just as often.  It hasn’t make me more cynical or guarded, just more aware of those around me.  I don’t let people in easily and when I do, well, I still maintain a bit of coldness from time to time.  It is sincerely not a trait I am conscious of, but upon the days interactions and reflections I can see moments that I wish I had been a little more inviting.  Overall, I know I have the largest inner circle of my entire life, and I have truly incredible people with whom I love dearly.  And what’s more they are people I have chosen, and am lucky enough that they have chosen me.  But let’s get on track here, I find it difficult to navigate between trust and privacy.

 

I keep many aspects of my personal life under lock and key, especially things that I have struggled with, or currently am struggling with.  And to be a little more specific, I tend not to discuss things that really suck but are out of my control.  I don’t want to whine, or bitch about my very absent family.  I don’t want to lament the fact that my step dad is now visibly absent from my life.  And I certainly do not want to go on and on about how I just don’t have the income that I feel is proper for where I want to be in life.  Instead, I keep these things to myself, and just keep picking away at them.  I work on my perceptions, my reactions to these nagging voices, and I keep doing what I love, which is writing.

 

Is the outside perception that I am fake or cold because I don’t talk about my problems?  Perhaps, but the thing of it is, I just don’t know where that line should be.  I am find sharing about 2 minutes of my problems with my friends and loved ones, but then I just want to move on.  I want desperately to discuss adventure, and all the wonderful things about our lives.  I don’t want to dwell on what cannot be immediately changed or fixed.  I have my problems, as I know those around me do.  I work hard at fixing them, little by little and just don’t find talking about them will ever solve the issues.  Because there are things that cannot be fixed by words or actions.  There are many things that are out of our control and it’s more important to learn to cope, accept or even just not sweat it when push comes to shove.

 

But again, there is a nagging voice in me that wonders if people think I’m phoney for not bitching about my life.  If perhaps, I have set a standard that they feel uncomfortable getting real with me, until I get real with them.  Is this all in my imagination?  Am I simply rationalizing a fear that is all in my head?  Honestly, I just don’t know.  So I am putting this out into the world with earnest hope that the percolation process will help me find calm, or even acceptance to a shortcoming of mine that I often fear.  That real, terrifying fear that when people learn everything about me, they will leave…

 

Thank you to all who have liked, shared and followed my journey so far. 

And if you are just clicking for the pictures, why not check out my Patreon page?

Alone Time

Whenever my partner is away I find myself going through that same cycle over and over.  It starts with me making big huge plans for everything I am going to do with all my new found free time.  Then I spend a little too much time binge watching a TV show that I have been waiting to watch, that I know he hates.  Soon after, I put out my little loneliness feelers, to scratch my sexual itch, especially if he is going to be gone more than a few days.  Almost every time that plan falls flat and I resort to draining the charge on my toys again and again.

At this point, I realize that it may not be sex I am looking for, but just merely a little human contact.  I become a little more hug prone and I set up coffee dates with someone I haven’t seen in a while at least once a week.  You know, to just get out of the house and keep social.  And then I throw myself into whatever job I am doing.  In this case, I am working as many hours as I can, and when I get home I crack a beer and continue working my book.

And then, it hits me, and it is a surprise every single time.  My life is the same with him away, or right here beside me.  What I choose to do, and how I live, doesn’t change based on the distance.  Sure, I might only see a friend or make new friends once a month.  And perhaps I get a little distracted in the summer with camping, sunshine and adventures so the writing takes a bit of a pause.  But I am supremely focused on my craft.  Although it may not seem like it, I always am daydreaming, working out character arcs, and working through things that I may or may not share via blog, or social media.  And there is no amount of distance that can break my connection to my partner.  We have a symmetry about us, that just seems to work.  Two stubborn, souls, living in a beautiful cosine arc, that peaks and falls with the passing days, in a perpetual path towards our individual goals.

And as for the dating and sexual aspect, my goodness do I miss having a couple in our lives that we can get excited for, and excite us in return.  I know we will find a few “someones” at some point, and it will be the most amazing, invigorating time of our lives, but in the right now, it remains a fantasy, mixed with a few blissful moments from memories.  I almost look forward to the fall, whereby things seems to settle out a little, and routines become more predictable both in our lives and in the quest to edge into someone eles’s.  The variability of summer leaves too much up in the air to really get something started.  A few sparks here and there, but it’s the fall that proves if those sparks will smoulder out, or ignite into a warm glow.

My imagination grows rich with fantasy, and it is time to put pen to paper in a more poetic form.  Until next time my dear readers.

 

Thank you so much for reading, please like, share, or even subscribe.  And if you are only here for the pictures please subscribe to my Patreon page (I love showing off)!

 

Predators in Direct and Private Messages

Yesterday I tweeted this:

So this is pretty f’d up. Everytime I post something emotional or show I’m vulnerable or struggling my DM’s explode with sliders. Men…stop fucking doing this! Your dick doesn’t look more appealing to me when I’m crying! And it’s not an invitation to get off on my sadness! by K_ghislaine

And I am astounded by the response I received from it.  In fact, I have to say that this has been my most influential post to date, far exceeding the occasional cleavage or sexy picture.  And that tells me that this topic requires more discussion.  Especially after I received a message from a guy who was genuinely shocked I posted this, and asked what men are even allowed to do or say in this #metoo charged environment.  He honestly felt that no interaction was safe anymore and was feeling stifled by the recent changes in response from women.

Ok, let’s talk about this.  9 or so years ago, I was seduced by a private message.  And it was so hot!  Within a few hours of the initial message, this guy was on my doorstep for what was to become a very regular and incredible booty call buddy.  He opened with a sexy tease, I responded in kind, and the flirtation ramped up exceedingly quickly.  He was the first guy who randomly messaged me and was in my bed that day.  Totally success case, and an inspiration to men everywhere right?  But here’s the thing, that’s not the whole story.  There were a few key things that occurred prior to this message that ensured its success for the both of us.

First, we were already friends.  Yup, that whole friendzone thing is bullshit in my opinion and maybe I will touch on that in a future post.  For now though, we had established a bit of a rapport and some trust.  To be clear, we had never flirted previously, we were truly, just friends.  Second thing that happened, I posted online that I was lonely and looking to have a little fun.  Yes, that’s right, I playfully put my intentions out there, I opened the door to have someone on my friends list message me, and take the bait.  I gave consent and permission to be flirted with using my words.  I used more than just a sexy picture (are you seeing a pattern forming yet?).  And thirdly, he was a emotionally stable and mature man, who was playful and listened to all my boundaries without any push-back or manipulation.  It was a fully consensual pairing that turned into something incredibly hot and satisfying.  And looking back, this was actually more like a 1 in 100 success rate for me, perhaps even closer to 1 in 1000.

With that story in mind, let’s get back to my tweet that started this post.  I have been struggling as of late with where I want my future career to take me.  And it sometimes feels good to just vent a little, especially on twitter because I really appreciate all the people that I interact with, and their perspectives.  I feel better just putting some words out into the universe.  It helps focus me, and well, it’s why I blog.  So on Sunday, I did just that, I wrote a little tweet stating that I was having a rough time, and I was hopeful that Monday would be better.  And publicly, there was a lot of love.  But privately, some men showed their disturbing colours.  And it sucked having my vulnerability preyed on like that.  And I do not want to mince words here, what those two men specifically did was predatory.  Offering me a kind ear, getting me smiling and then rapidly ramping up their sexual intentions without any warning or any previous DM history.  And I, like so many women who responded to my tweet were outraged.  Doing that, is NOT OK.

And guess what?  We as past victims, are onto you.  We are onto you all!  Being empathetic or sympathetic does not give you the right to proceed with your ulterior motives.  That is not consent on our parts, and we are tired of feeling weak for showing our emotional vulnerabilities and getting sexually propositioned as a result.  If I want sexual interaction I will ask for it.  And crying is not asking for it by any insane stretch of the imagination.

That being said, let me get back to the guys concern that he no longer knows how to treat women. To that, I say good.  Stop what you’ve always done in the past, and listen to the women you approach.  Watch their body language, listen to their words and ask for feedback.  Do better as a whole.  If you have always had positive “hell yes I want to sleep with you” or “OMG I love when you touch me” then guess what, what you’re doing is most likely amazing.  But, if you have ever felt a lukewarm reception to your advances, or heard the word no, or even just uncertainty, it’s time to stop and check yourself.  And as I am completely honest, I will fully admit that when I was younger, I never asked permission to touch men or women.  I lived by the assumption that every person I touched would be flattered that a decent looking female was touching them.  But you know what?  I grew up.  I realized that I preferred a fully consensual yes you absolutely can touch me, to the initial shocked and often uncomfortable looks I would get in my early 20’s.  It’s hotter for me not having uncertainty in interaction.  I can be so much more intimate and intense that way.  And guess what?  You can too!

In summary, the jig is up.  We see what you’re doing and do not like it.  The guys who are successful have a backstory that you don’t see.  Approaching a person who is vulnerable with your ulterior motives needs to stop.  And if you’ve ever become turned on by helping someone, or having a girl cry on your shoulder, keep it to yourself.  Show self control and DO NOT try and act on it.  It is not the time, nor the place.  Instead, build up a friendship.  Get to know a wide variety of people in and out of your comfort zone.  Listen, read a book or a blog and get interesting.  Only predators go after people who are weak and vulnerable.  It’s time to break that cycle!

Want to support me and my work in a consensual and sex positive way?  Subscribe to my Patreon!

The Ice Queen and Finding Peace

When I was a young girl some not so lovely people started referring to me as the Ice Queen.  It was a nickname born out of my outward coldness and reserved nature.  In short, I built a wall around myself, as many children from broken homes do and I gave off a vibe of isolation and an emotionless demeanor.  This is a persona that haunted me well into my early 20’s.  At the time, I chose to embrace this being, this ice queen.  I used the cold, and calculating comfort that this identity provided me to explain my lack of tears, and my almost holier than thou attitude.  I didn’t have time for foolish games, my young self would decree, I was a queen, and nothing could penetrate my icy heart. Whenever I was feeling down or lonely, I could snap into this character and find a calm sense of power and control.  Queen’s don’t cry, especially in front of the plebs (I lament that I only learned that word recently and never actually got the chance to use it on the playground!).

So why now, when I am the happiest I have ever been in my life, does this painful memory pop into my head?  Because as it turns out, this is my default when something unexpectedly painful arises in my life.  I go into cold, survival mode, and nothing can get in.  My defense mechanism is my Ice Queen identity.

I found out a few days ago that one of my great aunts passed away, quite suddenly.  And while that in of itself is painful, it is not what triggered me.  The catalyst was in fact the text message from my mom, the person I had not had any communication with in more than 4 years.  I cried for my aunt, and my grieving grandparents.  But then, the well of tears just dried right up.  There was a cold, protective shield that went up in light of the message from her.  It was like reading a message from a complete stranger.  You quickly scan, glean the information and then process the information at face value.  It was like she was a messenger pigeon and not the person who helped give me life.

I felt confused.  Really, seriously out of sorts.  How was it possible that this person had become a complete stranger to me?  Is this what happens to normal people when they have a falling out?  Do they just become acquaintances or less?  And what’s more, was I guilty that this had happened?  What was my next move, if any?

And then, just as quickly as my brain started to wind up, it calmed (with the help of my sister of course).  The wave of uncertainty was replaced by something wondrous.  Something I didn’t know was even possible.  It was peace.  Simple, calm, elegant peace.  I’m left knowing that there is no right or wrong, or regret or lament, or really anything else.  I made a decision that brought me peace and comfort.  And the ability to live my life to the fullest, without an anchor judging, shaming or holding me back in any way.  I am free.  I am also grateful, to the Ice Queen inside of me.  I recognize now, that in the face of uncertainty she will be there, she will not let me fall apart.  She will keep me whole in the face of adversity.  I can count on her years of strength and support when I could very easily be overcome with emotion and lose control.  The fear, that used to give me pause, is gone.  And while I am grateful for the calm reminder that the Ice Queen will always be a part of me, I am hopeful that I will not have to rely on her for many years to come.

If you liked this post, please consider checking out my Patreon!  

 

Embracing My Sex Appeal

I have a certain look, a dancers walk, a sex appeal, and a quiet confidence.  These are things I fought for a long time to accept as a part of me and in fact spent a great deal of time fighting.  In my youth, I yearned for people to respect me because of my intelligence, my wit, and what I rationalized as real substance versus the superficial that I couldn’t control.  I never wore make up, only dressed up for special occasions and aside from having a stellar shoe collection, I’m still just a jeans, flip flop and hoodie type of gal.  I like being comfortable, understated and I could go on and on about just how much thought went into ensuring I consistently look and feel low maintenance.

Not using my looks or demeanor was always re-enforced with my friendships with both men and women.  I really wanted to downplay being seen as a threat to keep the girlfriends from taking my male friends away.  Or getting jealous that I was included in guys nights.  If you’re a regular reader, you will know this is an ancient problem as I am no longer one of the guys.  And with the women, I didn’t want to constantly talk about how cute I looked or how well I wore such and such an outfit.  It made me feel like they were constantly comparing themselves to me, and I never wanted anyone to feel bad around me.

I fought my sex appeal for well over a decade.  I buried my femininity as best I could.  Being just “one of the guys”, or assuming I was on equal footing with my peers, these were all aspects I embraced about myself.  I downplayed the visual cues I have little control over to be taken seriously.  I’m sure a large part stemmed from hearing time and time again that the men in my family really wanted me to be a boy.  As the first grandchild, I was born to be a leader, to go off the beaten path and create a new life, and new identity.  This was drilled into me, and celebrated whenever I showed positive direction away from the norm.  I got people thinking, to see new perspective.  But I did it without the aid of my face, boobs, or thin figure.  In essence, what I did was make things harder for myself, a lesson I have recently discovered.

Now I find myself coming to terms with the fact that using my looks to get my foot in the door, to open someone up to conversation or simply to give a warm smile that makes someone else feel good is more of the person that I want to be.  I am starting to embrace a new norm, a new, and much more whole identity.  And that is not without its own set of bumps.  Why?  Because I have now had to work on learning the balance game between flirting to get something and going too far with sex appeal without the comfort blanket of being young and dumb (so to speak).  And it’s a game that has been difficult to teach myself and know where I actually want to take it.  To embrace a whole identity that includes my outsides, in a meaningful, and ethical way.

So here I sit, finding balance between sex appeal, and an articulate, whole woman with a mission to educate and teach others.  Understanding that sexy can exist without dismissing intelligence outright. It’s no longer my burden to worry about how other people perceive me.  Instead it’s my prerogative to be complete, whole, and amazing both inside and out.

Want to be part of the dialogue?  Consider joining my Patreon page