Past, Present, and (a little bit of) Future

Over the past week or so I have had some serious growth happen and, while I could have done it on my own, I had help. The help I received made it go quicker and better than I ever would have been able to do on my own, and I am so grateful for it. It helped me so much.

For the past year, my life has been heavier than it has been in a long time. This is the kind of heavy I worked hard to avoid, and yet, here I am.

I thought my husband was someone he wasn’t. That’s my bad, but it has turned my world upside down. I depended on him to keep me sane, to keep me grounded, to give me a life that was better than I dreamed I would ever have (turns out, I can make my own). The ground fell from under me and I had no net. It hurt. And it had to happen.

I tried to focus on other things, but… those were heavy too. Everything was heavy. I didn’t know what to do about anything, so I couldn’t do anything, and it just sucked.

The help I received really pushed me look at myself. This is what I needed. I kept looking at what others needed and I tried to… find a happy ground where I could… I’m not sure how to explain… Take my husband for example, I know he has been struggling, this isn’t any easier on him than it is on me, so I tried not to make it worse. By doing that I made sacrifices that did no good for me, they actually knocked me down, which rained down on B. I love him, and it hurt me to hurt him, and… ugh… it was a huge mess.

So I was able to step outside of that and look at me. What did I need? Who am I? Me. ME. ME!

I had no idea that I could figure out what I needed to do by looking at what I needed!

It is mind blowing.

Yes, sometimes I can be a bit dense.

I am glad someone made me question myself and what I have. It made me see that I can trust myself, I can trust my judgment, and I know what I need.

B and I had a few talks. They were hard on both of us because we’ve been in this mess and we were already hurting, but we did it. This is something my husband was never willing to do. This is what it means to be in a committed relationship — not giving up when the going gets tough. B and I have a foundation, we connect, we have common believes and views, he makes me laugh and makes me feel important in ways that matter the most. He is amazing. I also need to see that he is really lucky to have me… this is a key that I was missing before, and I couldn’t see it because I wasn’t looking at me (correction: I was actually looking at my faults). I was making a sacrifice that actually hurt us both. I can trust myself to do what is right for both of us. I know now that have power over him and I know that he is okay if I use that power. I trust myself with this power because I know I can keep him safe… I can keep him safe because I love him. We can make this work even with all the miles between us. And when I can finally lock him in real chains, I will already have chains around his soul. *evil laugh*

So, today I am smiling. I feel good. I have some more hard times in front of me, but I now have the strength to get through it. I don’t need anyone to hold me up, but I definitely need people standing beside me… and one below me, on his knees.


I Wish it was Easy as Flipping a Switch

If anything is going to stop me from being a good Domme it is going to be my sense of self worth.

That is a scary thought.

I could destroy my chance at life — a real life.


It would be so much easier if I could put this on someone else! It would also be easier if I told myself that I will never be able to change, the cut is too deep to heal. “You’ll always be this broken little girl, Dixie, and you’ll never be the Domme you want to be. Just give up before you hurt anyone.”

Just typing those words feels like slipping on an old comfortable pair of pants. It just… fits.

So, by telling myself that I am not enough, has made me not enough.

*Head wall*

People have told me that I am special… Actually, I don’t even remember if that’s what they said. I clearly was not listening to a word they were saying. I have completely dismissed what people have told me — people I love, people I respect, and people I trust.


So, what am I going to do about it?

I don’t know. I just don’t know.

Every time I tell myself, “You are good enough,” there is a louder voice screaming back, “No you’re not, and you know it!”

At this point, all I know is that I have to change because I need this life, and I am not going to be the one who ruins it.

Submission and Me

I don’t know where my desire to submit went. It could be that it just wasn’t meant to be or perhaps I have buried it deep within myself. It is possible that it died with my love and respect for my husband. Nevertheless, I can’t find it, and I don’t want to find it.

I am reluctant to share my view on this because I don’t want you to think I believe submission is wrong or that I don’t appreciate it. I do appreciate it. I appreciate it even more now that I’m Domme. I ache to have a sub squirming before me. I need a sub in my life. Seriously, I am so tired of making my own coffee it’s not even funny. (Okay, maybe it is, just a little.)

I am not trying to talk anyone out of submission.

I do not want to endure anymore, I have endured enough. I deserve to have someone endure for me.

I do.

I deserve that.

My body has been used by men since I was 8 years old, and I am done.


My body is mine.

I want to be more than what my past taught me to be.

I have tried to be enough for people. It has never worked.

It is time for me to be enough for me. Too much or not enough, I am me, take me as I am or the door is over there.

I want to be pampered and treated like delicate treasure. I want to be treated softly, not roughly. I want pleasure, not pain.

Being bound, having a collar around my neck, or being on my knees… well… fuck that.

I want to be in control.

I want to know what it means to be adored, to be special, and to be someone’s everything.

Submission fit me, but Dominance improves me.

A Worry

I worry that I’m a fake. That I’m just trying to convince myself that I am Domme, that I can actually own someone the way I want to own them without letting them down.

If you knew the kind of sub I was, you might understand. Let’s just say it fit me well. Really well.

There is a part of me that believes I can make a damn good Domme — it’s just going to take a lot more effort because I’m not a natural.

I don’t know what else to say…

I just want to get these feelings out in the open where they can’t hold me down anymore.

Growth Hurts – in a bad way with a (hopefully) good outcome

I have been in this self-growth stage for a while now. To be honest, I’m tired of it. I am ready to be the person I want to be. Well, that’s not entirely true, if I was ready, I would be the person I want to be. The problem is, I don’t want to see how I let myself down, how I got myself in this mess, how I had it all wrong.

*sigh* But, I can’t change without looking at those things.

Taking on this new role has done so much for me. I want to talk about it, I have tried to write about it. I felt the best way to explain was to start with who I was before, so I started there. I wrote a whole post, then I listened to what I wrote. I heard it from an outside perspective. I do not like what I read. I do not want to share what I wrote.

I have shared a lot about myself on this blog and my last blog, but this… I reached some kind of limit as to how deep I’m willing to go within my broken parts. It is one thing to reflect on them by myself and a completely other thing to share them on the world wide web.

Maybe it isn’t as bad as I think.

It probably isn’t.

I can’t help but think, “What if I could help someone?”

I don’t know. Maybe one day, but today is not the day.

I can tell you that it will fuel me to be the Domme I want to be and I know I am worth more than what I once believed.

The Ache

It starts out small, just a spec of dust floating inside me, easy enough to ignore. Then it doubles and triples, and, before I know it, it grows into this… thing. It grows until it takes up so much space that I feel like I can’t breathe. It doesn’t want to be there anymore than I want it there, so it claws at me, like it was buried alive inside my chest.

It pulls me into the dark just to shine a light on my broken pieces. It tells me horrible things until I am twisted and drowning. It wants out and it will do and say anything to get what it wants.

You see, it is starving. Unlike living things it won’t die from starvation, it grows. It gets louder. It claws harder. And it won’t stop.

It makes me feel weak and fucked up.

Over 4 years and I still haven’t been able to “just live with it” when it shows up. It hurts just like it did the first time and it will be the same every fucking time. I do, however, have a better understanding of it and it is…familiar.

It is the ache. It is the itch. It is me trying to be me, without a way to be me.