I’ve touched a bit on these before, but I had three major reasons for venturing into WordPress.
- To find new people to interact with that I wasn’t reaching via Blogger.
- To have someplace to mirror posts that would be more focused upon Femdom and less “all over the place.”
- To “re-brand” my writing and avoid the stigmas, judgments, and prejudices associated with my Blogger blog’s title and color scheme.
As I am being somewhat selective with which posts I choose to show here, I worry a bit that my personal voice and frame of reference probably won’t come through as well, especially considering that the other blog has 7 years and hundreds of posts to provide a background that is not here.
So here goes…
It probably goes without saying that I am a submissive male. I have lived the Femdom D/s lifestyle for years and I am a very large proponent of it.
I suffer from depression that has plagued me since a very young age. It ebbs and flows, mostly cycling between mild and severe. I live my life un-medicated, doing my best to cope with it and find my own ways to get through it.
I am an orphan. I am a minority (one of those Asian import models that got popular during the 70’s). I was adopted into a white family that lived in a very white city. Racism became a firm part of my life at the age of four. My family had very little love in it. I learned later that by the time I was adopted, my father and mother had not loved each other for over 2 years, but they had been on the waiting list for so long… they figured, “let’s keep it.”
My adopted family expected great things of me. It was expected that I would be amazing at sports and academics. There was quite a bit of physical abuse. The more strained my parents’ marriage became, the more frequent and brutal the beatings were. The pressure to succeed continued to build. Through a mix of hard work and talent I was able to meet those expectations the majority of the time but in the end it really didn’t matter. There is no celebration, no joy, I just move onto the next thing I’m supposed to master. This was the process by which I “earned” attention. Sometimes it came with affection and love, but usually it was a mix of “we notice you did well, don’t be too proud of it, focus on what’s next.”
By the time I was 20 years old I had directly or indirectly tried to kill myself over a dozen times. I had been a drug addict and alcoholic, anything to ease the pain. I had never felt love. I was a miserable wreck of a human.
K was my first true love. She saw me as someone with value and loved me. She brought me into the D/s lifestyle. For the first time, I felt peace and happiness. Cancer took her from me 12 years ago. It was absolutely devastating.
I have had to move on with my life. I have loved and lost, grown in some ways and regressed in others. I’m still a bit neurotic but a lot more stable than I was in my youth. Depression still plays its part but I have a larger box of tools to combat it with.
My current relationship has devolved from kinky to vanilla in a painfully slow trickle. It is abusive sometimes but it is better than being alone. I maintain hope that things will turn around and improve in the future.
While D/s is currently absent, it stays in my mind. I live vicariously through writing and reading. I help when I can, making an effort to help share with and educate others. It feels good to pass on knowledge gained through experience. It feels good to help people.
I don’t think of myself as a successful person. I’m probably closer to a survivor. I manage to keep on going when there is no reason to… even when I don’t want to. There aren’t a lot of things in my life that I am proud of, but if I had to choose one it is that I still choose to feel. I relish my feelings. I cherish things that resonate deeply in my heart. I hope to share more of those things with you here.