baby… no more

I’ve sat here for a straight 2-3 minutes debating on what’s the best way to intro this. There is no best way, so in the only way I know how, let’s get to it.

There’s a slew of things that I will be covering. They won’t all go up under one entry. For one; too long. For two; I want to break them down a little and really think through what and how I want to communicate things.

So let’s start with: “Baby”

My parents had very sweet pet names for each other throughout the entirety of their marriage. My dad, the decider of the name; “Mahal”. In Filipino it means translates to something along the lines of; [my] love. They only stopped calling each other that when my father passed, but from the day I was able to understand anything at all, I knew that my parents calling each other Mahal, even when they were upset with one another was just a really sweet and simple way to remind each other that they loved each other.

When I married, I wanted to be called Mahal. We tried it out, it didn’t stick. In fact, it felt almost weird referring to my then husband as mahal. It was like I had taken something that was parents and I was trying to make it my own. It didn’t work. Instead, we landed on the very generic: honey. While not original to say the least, it stuck.

When that relationship ran its course, I didn’t think that I would be receiving any endearing pet names anytime soon. So, when I met my current partner and was referred to as “Baby”, I was for the first time really very happy with it. In fact if he only called me that, I would be more than satisfied. I won’t go into the myriad of other names that have been thrown my way. Suffice to say Baby is one of the ones that I cherished the most.

And there we have that; cherished. Note the past tense, because in the space of one night, I no longer care to be called his “baby”. In fact, I think for a little while, he needs to just refer to me by my [nick]name.

Why you may be wondering… well let me tell you.

In case you know nothing about me at all, I/ we watch porn. Quantity, quality and type are not significant. So last night we were watching it . The kind we both like. M has a tendency to have all sorts of commentary while he watches. I vacillate between being humored and wishing that he would just not speak. I’m sure you understand. So while we we’re watching the comments began rolling in, and then some point in the middle he drops “baby” into the mix, (in reference to the woman in the clip).

Do you ever have those moments when you just want to stop everything, hit rewind and make sure that you actually heard what you thought you just did? Well that was me. After quickly gathering my thoughts, I pointed to the screen and asked, “did you just call her baby” he confirmed and I immediately became incensed. I told him I didn’t like it and he promptly called her, slut. As though that was going to make up for that transgression.

So here I am Thursday afternoon and I’m still annoyed. Of course I am. He called some random chick “baby”. He calls me baby. I thought that calling me baby was special. Evidently not. I am apparently very wrong on that score, and now baby has expanded to anyone.

If you’re wondering if this is the first time that he’s done that, I will let you know that it is not. Is this the first time that I have told him that I do not like it. I honestly can’t remember, but I sure as fuck will tell you that I am very salty about it.

This, along with a bunch of other bullshit things that have happened are really making me wonder how I am feeling these days.

I know this much today; I AM ANGRY.

I don’t like sharing my pet name with others or strangers. I simply do not. I am entitled to feel that way. I am entitled to be upset. I don’t think that he would understand why.

I feel as though he doesn’t place value on things. He certainly doesn’t’ place the same value on things as I do.

I considered that mine and he has taken that away from me and made it for anyone and everyone. It’s a complete lack of respect in my eyes. He is disrespecting me completely and this is just another in a notch of things that he’s done of late that I feel has been disrespectful towards me.

I grow so tired of all of it. I grow so tired of my feelings being thought so little of that I feel less than.

To give a little context as to why I feel so strongly about this I’ll try to explain why baby meant as much to me as it did.

I am not one who likes to be called something that has been used in previous relationships. If anything I find it lazy, unoriginal, and quite frankly (to me,) you might as well be pulling things from that past relationship into the current relationship. We could analyze that all day, but that’s how I feel, so let’s just accept it and move forward.

After a considerable amount of time dating, I asked if he had called any of his previous girlfriends baby. He said that he hadn’t, though he had tried, it didn’t seem to fit. With me, it did. You see what happened there? I was the right fit for that. Like Cinderella’s slipper. Yes, I compared myself to a shoe in a fairy tale. Fuck you, I’m sticking with it.

When he called some non-event; baby, I suddenly became lumped into a shoe bucket. Apparently I’m sticking with the shoe analogy. I’m not fucking generic. I simply am not, but that very simple slip, has made me feel as though I am no longer his baby. For shit sake, we might as well all be baby. That means you too reader. You could very well be his baby!

Am I making my case here? Whether I’m making it or not, the simple fact remains. I am pissed off about this.

I haven’t made a single effort today to talk to him. He texted me, I said Hi. He called me (twice now), I was talking to someone at work earlier, the second time, I was too busy proofing this. In other words, I haven’t called him back. This I acknowledge is not the best way to work through resolving my grievance, but honestly I’ve got so many at this point, perhaps avoidance is my best recourse.

I haven’t really been working hard at working out, so now I need to work hard at it.

By that I mean that I know that things are changing, and toning, I’m just disappointed. I’ve been working very hard at it, but I am not pushing myself. I get to the edge, then I stop because I start to hurt. The point of going to the gym though was so that I did push myself.

I need to take all of my measurements and really hold myself accountable. The only person that can make this change is me. It’s not like I’m against putting in the work. I get up early, I get to the gym, I just need to push myself a little harder than I already have.

I am going to continue doing the work that I am doing but I need to keep up the edge of my breath push that I get to, (and drop off each time). I would rather have a hard work out that doesn’t last 1 hour plus. I can push myself in 15-20 minute segments, pushing to have a great work out. I also need to workout some of the things that I am embarrassed to do at the house if I can’t do them at the gym. I just want to see results. I can do tummy and thigh toning work at home.

Commit to it.

Maybe I’ll start logging everything on here so as to track my progress.

I’m my biggest fan

This is my daily validation that I don’t need to compare myself to other people to know that I am a smart, funny, beautiful, woman who is capable of so many things.

That comparing myself to other people is not a healthy exercise, and that only I, can define who I am.

Sometimes it’s very easy for me to compare myself to other women when I am feeling insecure about myself. This is not a healthy exercise. We are all different people. All bodies are not the same, all personalities are not the same. We are individuals for a reason. We may have common thoughts, and behaviors, but ultimately, what makes a person a person is the fact that no one is quite like yourself.

I have to remind myself of these things because I can get so wrapped up in my own insecurities that I no longer behave like my true self.

I find that this is especially relevant since I have started dating M. It’s not M’s fault, these are insecurities that I’ve carried around with me for years. Since we’ve started dating though they have been especially bad. I don’t know why. It’s rather annoying actually.

What I need to focus on however is reassuring myself that I am the very things that I mentioned earlier; smart, funny, beautiful (inside and out). If I am not loved for what and who I am, then that is not on me. No one validates me, but me.

Pep talks are important. If someone isn’t going to give you one, give it to yourself. I’m finding that it makes me feel better. I should start looking at the mirror and saying it, making sure to really believe all the words that I say to myself. I wonder if with a continuous session of this that I will start to see a change in the way that I see myself and how others see me. I want to be seen as the confident girl (again). I always was when I was a kid. I don’t recognize this adult version of myself. I don’t like this adult version of myself. She’s filled with anxiety (which is fine), but she’s not fighting it. Instead she looks inside the orange dusty bottle of medication and says; take that, it will take the edge of.

I have body image issues because I’m not built like the 20 somethings that I am constantly comparing myself to. I’m not 20 something anymore I’m 30 something… I have room for improvement and I plan to start taking steps soon to get back into the shape that I want to be. I will be getting my gym membership and I will be waking up early and getting healthy. If I could afford a trainer, I would do that too. I want to focus on losing two dress sizes and toning and defining what I have. I know that this all takes a lot of work, but I don’t particularly care for the skin I’m in at the moment. This body is the only one that I am ever going to have, so I need to treat it like the temple I feel it needs to be.

I’m short, broad shouldered and curvy in all the right places. My tummy and hips are my areas of opportunity. This sister is thick. If I can get those under control, I would be more than happy with my size. I really just don’t want to climb up to the size that I was. I’ve had to make small changes in the way that I eat, again. And I am trying to walk more than I was. I feel like I’m going to have a good kick start with the tiny vacation that I have coming up. I have to make sure that I don’t spend all the money that I have while I’m gone, because I want to make sure that I have gym membership dues when I get back. I get excited with the notion of going to the gym because I love being a treadmill.

…so there we have that. Love myself. Even when I have a hard time believing that I am awesome. Love myself, because no one will love me harder than me.

Wednesday Nov 1st… though it’s not, of which I am aware.

I’d made a silent promise to myself that I would write an entry every day in the month of November.

I missed November 1st.

Now that we’ve cleared that up, let’s talk.
I have no set topic, this literally going to be as though I wrote an entry in my handwritten journal. There’s pros and cons to that. Pro: at least I’m writing, Con: my lack of consistent topic may cause people to turn away wondering why am I reading this shit?

But let’s get to it.

A lot of different things have happened since I last wrote anything at all.
I had a migraine that last two and half days. This caused me to have to be out of the office. I spent most of my time in the bedroom trying to create as dark a hole as I could for myself. It also reminded me that I needed to reload on my migraine medicine. I still need to pick that up from the store.

I’ve been suffering from a bout of depression. It’s left me numb, devoid of emotion, and uncommunicative. Or over communicative. I’m not sure. I guess it depends on who you are. If you’re a friend of mine, then probably uncommunicative because I’ve just been trying to just be quiet. If you’re M, then I don’t know what to say. I’ve hurled so many emotions, thoughts, and feelings at Him I’m stunned He’s stuck around.

No one really appreciates the amount of shit that I put that man through. It’s remarkable to me that He loves me and puts up with my shit. I am not as forgiving with Him. If I was dating a male version of myself, I think that I would have called it quits a long time ago.

There is a level of expectation that I have, and while conventional in many ways, I know that they aren’t conventional in other ways. I don’t care what He does for a job, as long as He can support Himself. He’s learning very quickly that I am not His ATM, though it’s a lesson that has taken longer to learn than I would like. And He’s finally getting that when I say I am going to walk away from trying to be helpful about something, that I really do mean it. He tells me that He wants to lose weight, well then you have to actively do activities and behave a certain way to get there. I can’t make Him eat a certain way, so after fighting one too many times about it, I’m leaving it the hell alone.

The facet of expectation that I need met involves what happens behind the door of the bedroom. We’ve talked extensively that our sexual needs are different. I’m not budging on the issue. I want more. I need more. My mental and emotional health are tied my sexual being. I become depressed and get “down” if I’m only having sex once a week. So why not tackle this issue on my own, you may wonder?

Firstly I don’t like masturbating all that much. It’s great in a pinch, but it’s not what I want to do as my release. I need the physical connection. It’s who I am. I love His touch, I love His voice, I love the way that He can make me feel. The only problem that I’m having right now, is that we’ve gone for a while too long now, where I just feel like He’s just not into it as much as I am.

I know that when it comes to the number of times that we actually do it, that yes, we have a different outlook on it, but where He’s lost me is how I feel before, sometimes during, and after. M has a way of making me feel as though He’s doing it for me i.e. He doesn’t really want to do it, but because He knows I want it, He’s going to do it. On paper that doesn’t sound horrible, but the feelings it creates makes me wonder if He’s even interested in us having sex, because He doesn’t initiate.

This is a huge conversation that we’ve had, and we are working on it. We really are, and I really need to learn to be a lot less impatient about the result, because I know that it’s causing a little bit of an issue. Read little as slightly bigger than small, but not as big as a big.

I’ve been told off a couple of times for not allowing Him the time to instigate. M seems to be of the mindset of slow and methodical, but then on the back end of that, He’ll just be ready! Imagine; snail pace with a cheetah chaser. It’s confusing as fuck for me. I’m not used to someone slowly working themselves up for sex and then in a flash saying: I’m ready, hop on. It’s very disorientating and I don’t like the way that it makes me feel. I’ve brought this up to Him, and the resolution is, Kiki needs to be a little more patient and stop having doubts that He won’t follow through.

This is a very hard adjustment for me. I won’t lie, I just want it to be fixed like RIGHT NOW. There is no reality in that. It’s my responsibility to give this time, to allow the adjustment to take place. I also have to remember that this is not something that He’s used to. He’s conducted Himself in a very specific way for so long, and I’ve come a long and I’ve said; you’re way sucks. I need things to go my way. Is this selfish; yes. HOWEVER, I don’t care. He needs to learn to not be selfish with the amount of sex He’s willing to dish out. When I see that He’s made the effort, then we can work on finding balance with both of our needs.

My entire sexual energy at the moment appears to be depleted, and I wonder if in part this has something to do with how things have been between us. The fire that I usually keep inside seems to be like a dull fire. It’s fine if this is what it needs to be for right now, but I don’t want to feel like this all the time. I would rather be my over sexual self. That side is a lot more fun I know that much.

To help hopefully bring that back I’ve quit watching porn, and I turned off seeing the sexual images on twitter, as well as hiding my tumblr app. I think I had reached a point where I was desensitized to it and it was doing absolutely nothing for me. I’ve not noticed much of a difference but I know that my feelings towards sex sometimes comes in waves. There are times that I could just have days of endless wild sex. Right now, I just want a warm slip in, a little ride and glide and we’re done.

It certainly helped with the sex I had last night.

Well kinda… I had some mixed thoughts throughout the entire event.

  • Are these the only lips that I will ever kiss?
  • Is this the only person that I am ever going to have sex with again?
  • Do I really want to have sex with this one person for the remainder of my life?

I don’t know why I can’t just enjoy what I’m doing. I don’t just loose myself in it anymore, I spend way too much of my time trying to sabotage the fun that I’m having. I’d managed to subside that action for a while, and now it’s back again. I don’t know what triggered that. I don’t want to think any of those thoughts. In fact when I was able to turn it off, it felt just as good I remember it does with M. Good seems like Meh, I mean gooooooooood. The kind of good where you don’t want it to stop and if that means being exhausted and tired and mean the next day to people because you stayed up too late for a fuck, good. He knows where to touch me, how to touch me, and even if I don’t always get it, what to say to me.

He and I fit.  We have things that we need to work on but I know for me, it’s more a case of not being confident in saying what I want. I believe that if I said I wanted to do such and such, He would give it a try. I’m just lacking (again) in the ability to voice it… and believe me I know that the only way that I am going to get what I want is by asking for it.

For now I just want to get back to kicking up my [sex] drive. Actually I want to get back to kicking up my everything drive, but that’s a different post for a different time because I have to get back to it.

Yes, it is work.



You unstable bitch… I know right!?!

What the actual fuck is wrong with me? Do I suffer from a disorder that allows me to see outside of myself and recognize when I am actively participating in damaging behavior? If so, what is that? I need to understand.

Yesterday I experienced sub-drop (I’d played Sunday). It’s been a very long time since I last experienced that particular version of drop. It includes questioning myself worth, wanting to isolate myself, and I think that it may even have rolled into physical symptoms including an upset stomach and a mild headache. I’ve actually suffered massive migraines from a Top/ sub drop so I’m completely unsurprised by that last one. But the reduction in self-esteem and the need for isolation are not results I’ve had in a long time, and I’m not handling it very well.

I know what’s causing it, I know that I need to stop the behavior, but each time I just feel myself stepping down that path again. I can’t explain it other than a light coming on and off. I recognize that I have the problem. I back away from it, and then in a moment I find myself having the very same feeling again.

What makes this all the more worse is that I am trying really hard to separate myself from M. He was so busy yesterday He wouldn’t have noticed, but today is a new day, and He’s off so the act of trying to hide away may be unsuccessful.

I wish that I could explain the feelings but for someone who doesn’t hold the level of empathy/ compassion/ sympathy etc that I do, it makes it hard for me to be able to explain. I don’t want His attention until I want His attention. I don’t want His touch until I need it. The troubling thing at the moment is that I am so far down on wanting isolation that the notion of any contact at all just makes me want to burst into tears.

I know that the fix for this is very, very simple. I just need to be around Him. It really is that simple, but I’m stuck at work, in my own head surrounded by non-Him’s so I get to lament on the fact that;

  • I’m better off single
  • Does He really need to be a nice person and talk to His ex girlfriend?
  • He unfriended her on FB, what exactly is the necessity to be friends on their again?
  • He doesn’t’ care about me, He only cares about Him
  • He should have checked in on me sooner than the 3 ½ hours that He did.

The sensible person in me knows that these things are really stupid things to worry about. I talk to all sorts of people I don’t expect Him to put limitations on that. I know He wants to, but He doesn’t have it in Him to actively say: don’t. I also know that, no, He didn’t know how bad the drop was, because even I didn’t realize how bad it was (/is).  I shouldn’t hold that against Him because that’s not fair. He doesn’t have esp, He can’t read my mind. The emotional part of me just wants Him to understand that, that is where I am, but because He doesn’t, I am trying to unfairly punish Him by distancing myself… I swear He dates someone who is very unstable. Does anyone else do this shit? Because I feel like I must be the only one.

And that’s what I’m talking about. I am so self-aware that I recognize that I have the problem. I know what I need to do to “fix” it. I just can’t seem to get myself together enough to be consistent so that I can drag myself out of it. It’s a really great, yet totally fucking annoying quality, I know that much.

Magic… mini wand (please?!?)

I play with toys. My collection isn’t even as close to be extensive as I would like it to be. Let’s consider the cost alone of some toys. I’m a girl on a budget. A toy that is upwards of $200 better do more than rock my world. It needs to take me out for dinner at the very least first. That being beside the point, of what toys I do have, I certainly have my favourites, the least of which is my Magic Wand.

I think every woman that I know has some sort of version of this toy. It looks like a very large back massager and is the most simple of all massagers there could ever be. It’s hard wired and has two settings; Low/ High. It doesn’t get any simpler than that. You plug it in, you turn it on, apply and boom… if you’re lucky.

Now, I like my magic wand, but it’s not my go to toy. In fact if I had it my way, I’d put it in the closet and only bring it out if I absolutely have to. M doesn’t feel the same way. I wish that He did, but He doesn’t. This seems to be His go to toy and I’ve mentioned before that I really don’t care for it, but I don’t think that He really understands what I am saying. Better yet, I feel as though He is blocking out what I am saying, because He wants it to be the toy He wants to play with. Does that make sense?

There are a couple of reasons that I am not overly fond of this as my go to toy. First and foremost, I have some negative associations with it. M can at times over share information and knowing that He and His ex-fuck partner used one together, makes me feel a little icky. I’m fully aware that this is just an inanimate object, and said object belongs to me and not someone else, but it’s hard enough sometimes that I have these images of these two people together, that throwing in a tangible object into that just makes me want to yack.  I also have my own memories with my previous partner who quite frankly was a fucking wizard with the damn thing so it’s really a mind fuck for me when the damn thing is presented into play time.

The other thing is that I’m a small girl, I’m curvy all over, but I’m physically petite and as far as I’m concerned it’s overly large and awkward to navigate. Forget that it’s loud, forget that it’s corded and I’m bound to where I’ve plugged it in, it’s just big. M holds it and it looks more than appropriate in his hands. I hold the damn thing and it looks like I’m wielding something to a medieval flame riddled torch. I basically feel ridiculous. This is why I prefer my small and mighty vibrator.

I got it off amazon a few years ago and I love it so much. I want to get another one, but they don’t’ appear to be made anymore, and I feel it would be quite an extensive task on my part to find something that worked equally well. This wand fits comfortably in my hand, has more settings than I care about, and whisks me away to bliss a good 95% of the time. This is the toy that I pull out any other time I want to come and it’s the first one I go to when I want to rub one out quick, fast, and in a hurry. So it’s always disappointing when M asks for the other wand. I’ve gotten into the bad habit of asking if He’s sure He wants “Magic” and every time He says He does, my internal mood usually changes pretty quickly, although my outer mood, I try and keep the same. After all, I would be a fool to turn down an orgasm just because I don’t like a toy.