poeticdesires

nor'-east the life and musings of a kinky slut

Mild Morning Freak Out

I woke up, opening my eyes, and at once searching for Tessie. It’s what I do almost every time I wake up. Sometimes, with my occasional tossing and turning, he ends up on the floor. But then, a millisecond later, when I saw him sitting next to my knee, looking right at me, I felt this urge to do something.

I quickly took off my necklace and held it in my hand for a moment, the metal dangling by my eyes, before wrapping the jewelry around my wrist and locking it there.

Yes, that could work, I thought.

But then I missed the weight around my neck. I missed the feel of the metal against my skin. I missed the easy motion of playing with the ring absentmindedly.

I tried to unlatch the necklace from my wrist, but as if to mock me it wouldn’t come off easily. It was almost as if the metal wanted to remind me how tied to it I am, how much of myself I have poured into this one symbol.

I finally got my necklace off my wrist and put it back around my neck (where it lays now). And though the idea of wearing it around my wrist is still a bit appealing, I have time before I need to make a decision regarding the adornment at events.

So, the cause of my mild morning freak out…

All while I was at Rope Camp, I think I was asked about “my Top” or “my Sir” or “my Dom” about a dozen times. There was nothing wrong with these questions. I, in fact, was happy people asked me instead of holding onto their assumptions.

But that doesn’t mean the questions didn’t get to me.

I don’t have a Dom, a Top, a Sir. (Wow, the tears have started to come already. Okay, locking it down.)

I am unpartnered. I mean that in the broadest sense. No one in my life calls themselves my partner.

I have so many friends I love and cherish, who I would never give up for anything. I have people that I care about and love, so many connections, but I have no partners.

When I spoke to Gray about the reoccurring question at Rope Camp, shortly after we’d left, he wasn’t surprised. My necklace, though it is just a necklace (not a collar), conveyed an idea to those who did not know me. He liken it to wearing a black handkerchief in my back pocket and being upset about heavy S&M questions. I suppose it’s closer to wearing a gold band on my left hand’s fourth finger and being upset when people think it’s a wedding ring.

And I get that.

I’ve gotten the question ever since I first bought my necklace and put it on. I’ve had this piece of metal since I started in the greater public kink scene, since my first event, since before I joined Fet. So yes, the question comes up.

Still, it doesn’t make it any easier as a person who is searching for the life she wants to lead and trying to find people to fill the major roles she hopes to someday have in her life to have to always correct the unintentional mistake.

And, I wonder, how many have not thought of me in that way, not pursued something with me, because of their assumptions, because seeing my necklace made them immediately think buy lurasidone (Latuda) online Hands off.  Is it a subconscious thought in the back of people’s mind, a quiet barrier to possible connections, possible partners?

Each time I was asked about my Dom/Top/Sir, each question was a little needle in my side, a little reminder of what I don’t have.

It’s not set in stone, just an idea, but I don’t know if I’ll keep wearing my necklace at events, at least around my neck. It may dangle from my wrist. It may jingle in my pocket.

It won’t go away, that much I do know, but maybe a change of place will ease the frequency of the confusion and possibly lessen my occasional small heartaches.

Maybe.


Categorised as: D/s | Emotional | Gray | Poly | RCM

Comments are disabled on this post


Comments are closed.