Category: Breaking Away

It’s 2026!!!

    K Ghislaine
KGB in a sweater, with her hand in a shhh position over the face.

Ok, so this post is super late coming out, and for that all I can say is whoops! As is often the case with me, there is a lot going on. I am working diligently on my second book, while at the same time getting all my ducks in a row to start offering relationship coaching. Yes, yes… I’m back! Well, almost. As much as I want to get listening, and helping again, I really need to get the biggest chunk of this book completed, and I only have a few weeks left to hit my target timeline. So thank you 2026 for the reminder that time, once again ticks!

While resolutions have never really been my jam, the idea of a refresh with each new year is one that I resonate deeply with. The slow grow of the daylight hours, something so critically important to my mental health, and many of those around me, is one that brings a hopeful tone. And if you read anything towards the end of last year of mine, hope was something that I was lacking. While I would glimpse it for moments, the universe just kept knocking the socks off me, and not in a fun, I’m going to get lucky way. No no, it was a constant barrage of what more can I possibly handle?!?

It turns out, I can handle a lot, well, up until the moment I start my maniacal laugh/cry and well, everyone around me knows that I am done. But, those are the places where you dig even deeper, into pure emptiness and persevere, because there is nothing left to lose. Anyways that was then, and this is now, and the sunshine is slowing becoming more prominent. Sure I have quite a few more cold snaps to experience before I can get back to my happy place of writing in the sunshine, but that’s OK, because you guessed it… hope!

And when hope fails, there is sex, lots and lots of stress relief sex! Haha! Speaking of sex, there is an element of my upcoming coaching business that I am struggling with and that is the reaction to my mission statement including the phrase “sex positive”. You read my work, you know what this means to me, but how will this come across to the public? Will this be misconstrued as I am helping with sex? I know in the past, quite a few guys propositioned me to be the 3rd in their fantasies because I said I was sex positive, as a coach. And well, I don’t know yet the work around.

I’m mulling this over, and writing and re-writing my words as I try and figure out the identity of my business, while also maintaining boundaries, and my integrity. If you are reading this and have ideas, please let me know. Well, unless you are inviting me into your bedroom to “coach” you and your partner, then please, refrain. I have had enough of those propositions for a lifetime! If you’ve ever wondered why I am so great at saying no, this has a lot to do with where I had the most practice!

Anyways, cheers to a hopeful 2026! Thank you for reading, subscribing on Patreon, and sharing my journey.

Intent Matters… Then and Now

    K Ghislaine

My boyfriend has been off on a work trip for the past few days, and will finally be driving home to me today. As I prepare the house for his joyous return, I am struck by some hard truths from my past, the then and now of it all, and the realization of just how important intent is to a situation. And of course, how lucky I am to have this incredible man in my life!

As I strip the bed in preparation for new fresh sheets, I know I am doing this out of love. There is something so magical about coming home to fresh sheets, and with our two shedding dogs this is a luxury we are rarely afforded. But as I do this, a memory flashes, of a time and a relationship where fresh sheets meant betrayal, secrecy, and infidelity. The man of my past told me that I was lucky that he respected me so much that he would change the sheets for my arrival. And it became somewhat of a game, to see if I was getting fresh sheets on my visit or not. I mean, not a fun game, more of a horror style game where things jump out at you, and trap you, but still a game.

When the sheets stopped getting changed every visit I knew I had won. My place was set, and my bed was rarely made again. It was a victory, and one that I was empowered by. The intent of changing sheets for the love of my life, is one of pride, and tenderness. Maybe he doesn’t care about fresh sheets, but it’s the thought that matters. I care enough to try. But there is this nagging little voice, that wonders if he is ever suspicious of my motivations. If he ever wonders why I do it, because perhaps in one of his previous relationships he was sheet changer, or had sheets changed for him due to nefarious reasons.

These are the thoughts I try to shut out. I openly share with him my past, and hope that one day, I can leave all the trauma behind me. But unfortunately it takes times, and often posts like this, or the one I wrote on Medium recently about Safe Words. Writing out the differences between then and now. Slowly unpacking intent versus love, and separating the two lives from each other. I am happy, with a relationship built on love, and respect. We have trust in each other and real honesty. And the truth is, I will race to tell him why I changed the sheets, just to be sure and clear of my intent and purpose. I work diligently to make sure he never has to worry, because I know what a relationship of worry and suspicion looks like. I know what it feels like, and no one deserves that…EVER!

Don’t forget to join me on Patreon for behind the scenes pictures, and bonus content! Or just share, like, and comment wherever you read this post, because, yes, I love hearing from you all 🙂

Taking a Hard Look at Myself…

    K Ghislaine

When I was writing my last medium article about Being the Other Partner , I wrote a paragraph on being the other woman myself. I thought I was being honest, but when I went back to edit the piece, I realized that I had in fact written something that was so harsh and critical that it skewed the whole thing. And I began to cry, realizing just how often I have been doing this. In an effort to be accountable and take a long hard look at myself, I have crossed the line of honesty, into a much darker place, whereby I feel like the villain. I did remove the paragraph after I pulled myself together, and what I created I am proud of, well, as proud as I ever let myself be of my writing. Sometimes I think it’s easier to celebrate that I did a thing, versus actually believing that my words have any impact or meaning. Frick, look, I’ve done it again.

For those wondering, well, I wrote that I had a huge relationship regret, that I should have known better, and been smarter and that I feel terrible that I was basically a mistress. I came down hard on myself for not just saying no, and well, the truth is, there is not a whole lot more to the story. Then I created this whole big thing in my head, that truthfully, just wasn’t that doom and gloom. I know the difference, and I have had true hardships and relationship disasters, but my brain, well, it just really wanted me to feel bad about something that I didn’t need to feel bad about. I had a FWB that was always filled with consent, on both sides, and there is no guilt. But, maybe I wanted to feel guilt? I honestly don’t know.

Why, am I my biggest critic these days? I mean, it’s not like I am lacking in the professional rejection department, with my fastest responses record yet for pitching my last book. All no’s so far, if anyone was getting hopeful. So rejection is there. And my body, well, you all know how well, or not well that whole department is going. If not, read pretty much anything from last year and you’ll be caught up. Maybe it’s because I have so much rejection surrounding me, that I’ve somehow become comfortable with it?

You know that person who is always negative, and that is their feedback loop? Negativity breeds more negativity and thus they pretty much create more of it? Living a turbulent and difficult life because that’s what they know and perhaps even feel that they deserve… but I know better. And in person, aside from being a little closer to tears from time to time, I really am happy. In fact, my life has never been better. And yet, what I write, is focused on the dark side.

More and more, I feel like I have to journal, let it out, before I can get down to work. Or do something fun like a sexy photo shoot for Patreon, or just be creative. For the first time in probably 15 years, I broke down sobbing, wishing I could get a hug from my mom. Our relationship is beyond complicated, and I don’t want to open up to her when I’m feeling this vulnerable, but the thought was there. Then I cried some more, took a hot bath, and then was able to get some work done on my next book. The hurdles to get there though, ooph that took a lot out of me.

Maybe it’s the time of year. Losing daylight, feeling the pressures of the impending holiday season, and of course an ever perilous family dynamic, with the loneliness of knowing it’s the first Christmas without my grandfather. These are all real, rational things to take up a little extra space in my brain. But I earnestly wish they would all just fuck off for a little bit, so I can just sit in my happy, and creative bubble. I want to be filled with joy, laughter, and all the amazing things that I know are around me. Life is pretty magical. Why then, do the written words betray me? Why are they tricking me into writing the doom and gloom prior to the happy, and love filled place I actually am in? I truly have so much gratitude for where I am at, now I just need to convince those typing fingers of mine to start relaying the same message!

Blogging… Oh to blog in 2025

    K Ghislaine

When I started the year, I felt I needed inspiration and to take the focus off of everything that I felt was going wrong with my body. So, I embarked on a personal writing challenge, with prompts from I’m Still Writing. It did exactly what I hoped it would. It got me writing again, which I desperately needed after the completion of my first book, and the complete disappointment that I felt with not getting what I wanted. That sentence sounds childish and selfish. I know, but it’s the truth. I put so much effort and mental focus on having a baby, publishing my first book, and well, I’m hard on myself and set lofty goals. And I’m even harder when it comes to things that I can’t control, so thanks for nothing 2025.

The other thing that I grappled with, is that the sex life of a monogamous and happy person, just doesn’t seem interesting to write about. My boyfriend really wants me to strike it rich with the creation of my own harlequin romance novel, with him as the dashing hero. So, obviously I have his loving support to write about our sex lives. But, we were having sex, sometimes on timed days to coincide with the pills I took for a few months to try and encourage pregnancy. Yes, these are stories that have value, but writing about failure, just bummed me out.

I keep writing this sentiment about getting back to basics, and just blogging because I love it. And well, after a year of identity conflicts, I’m still here. My 30 day sex positive challenge turned out to be the real fuel that I needed because a few of you embraced it, and connected. So, I guess with blogs going out of fashion, OK, that’s been happening for years and years, but it’s the connection that I need. Twitter helped me explore so much diversity over the years. I lament the loss of that social media hub. I miss the sex positive community that I was a part of there. And thus, writing over much of the past year has felt, emptier and much more quiet.

I have cried more than a few times on the shoulder of my love, how I just need a win. And I’m coming to terms with it not being a win per se, but more, connection with a community. I don’t know where to find that right now. The non-monogamous sex positive people really came to mean a lot to me. And I simply haven’t found anything even close to that in my transition phase. But, here I am, putting myself out there, doing what I do, which is be vulnerable and honest. I am looking for my community. I am seeking that rush of ideas, and sharing of information. While I’m looking, primarily on Bluesky, I understand deeply that what I had, will probably never happen again. So, with eyes wide open, I’m looking.

Oh, and I should probably let you all know, that I am writing again. Not just blogging, and my articles on Medium. But… a project… book number 2. The likelihood of a memoir styled book being my first to be published I knew was a long shot. This next one, is filled with research and honestly has been really fun to plot and plan (With the subject matter being sex and dating??? Of course I am having fun). So, here we go, writing the next one! Always pushing forward, even after a long 2025, with sadly none of my big dreams coming true. Oh well, all I can do is keep dreaming, writing, and trying!

Want to buy me a coffee or a beer, please check out my Patreon page. Or, just comment wherever you found this post! It really does mean the world to me!

Week 20 & 21: Give and Take, and Freedom

    K Ghislaine

With a little hiatus from writing due to navigating all that life is throwing my way, I resume my writer’s challenge with a “just do it” attitude. Normally, I read the challenges and ponder for a bit. Today, I have read them and what you are reading is my natural flow of consciousness, for better or for worse. Oddly, that is in tune with the second part of the writing prompt called Freedom, brought forward by George Elliot. She writes about changing your form, your voice, and most importantly, letting the words take on “any form”.

While she really is focusing on diversity of voices in a more fictionalized setting, I am utilizing this more free-form style to remind myself that my blog is my own stream of consciousness, and it is only me who forces this mandate of importance. I am the one that sets my guidelines. And well, sometimes it’s better to just simply write, let it all, than to adhere to my arbitrary rules. Enter in Jean Rhys and this idea of “feeding the lake”. An admittedly overwhelming idea, being that her intent is that no matter how great or small your contribution, any and all forms of writing are feeding the lake. And that no matter what, this is what, we as writers should do.

This notion scares me, rather than motivates. But here I am, feeding into this idea, just doing it, although I feel drained and empty. But I recognize that these are things I have done to myself. I have allowed things to creep in, and give me excuses not to just write.

For anyone who has been a long time reader, you’ll notice that I used to write to sort out problems, of the primarily non-monogamous variety. I wrote mini-essays whereby I would have a question and then I would sort it out within a few paragraphs. Sometimes, I would share sexy stories or situations too, as a way of free-form writing or blogging diary type words. Why is this part of my current stream of consciousness that I am including in this? Because, my life is so vastly different from where this blog started. My daily adventures aren’t forced situations that I have to wrack my brain around to forge a path. My problems solving is different now. My writing need, is one of acceptance and healing, rather than an “in the moment” must deal with urgency.

That’s not to say that life has slowed down, but the pressure to make a relationship work no matter what is gone. And in that, the need to write things down as quickly as possible is also gone. That leaves me feeling almost lazy in my creative endeavours. My sense of urgency doesn’t exist in the way it did a decade ago. Huh!?! Now that is a realization I did not see coming.

As I sit here, wondering what I am going to do with that little revelation, I want to express my sincere thank you to anyone who has shared this journey. And for those, missing the old sexy content, well there is always my Patreon. And… I have have just received a new toy in the mail (affiliate link of my new arrival)!!! So, a little something something once I test it all out will be coming soon. No matter how far away I sometimes feel from my past, the universe reminds that I am who I am, and I am grateful that it welcomes me back whenever I lose my way.