A lot has happened in the three months since this semester started, both personally and professionally, and in some ways I can’t believe it is over already. I wasn’t prepared for the speed with which these three months have gone by, but it has all been wonderful. There were some topics that I wanted to write about but just didn’t get the chance, like Public Humiliation, Skin Stapling, Corsets, more on our Rope escapades, and joining my fellow student bloggers crafting homemade floggers, but I just didn’t have the time.

I re-read my application post and my introduction post in preparation for writing this, my final post on the Kink Academy Student Blog, then looked over all my posts this semester. My intention when applying was to use the videos I would be watching and the techniques I would be learning to get closer with my partner, Onyx, as well as to learn skills that I could use both with him and others. [...]

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Every once in a while I wake up and realize that something I used to be passionate about has become a chore and that new passions have taken over for the old ones. While writing is still a passion for me the idea of having a schedule for it or “needing” to do it is just simply tiring. I’m not sure how to fix this at the moment, but it’s something I’ve been meditating on.

Having the Kink Academy posts to write each week has put into perspective how little I write on this blog anymore. I start dozens of drafts but either end up scrapping them or writing over them with a different draft idea that rarely comes to fruition. Hell, my oldest drafts are from 2008.

The same could be said for my review blog. I have dozens of products to review right now, most of which are far overdue, and yet I am having difficulty focusing on them and actually getting anything out. I am still passionate about sharing my experience with and knowledge of toys with other people, but I think having so many toys to review just became exhausting, I never felt like I was getting anywhere, just producing post after post.

Perhaps that is the problem with blogs in general, even when a post is finished there is the next post to think about. It is an endless pull at my mind at all times: thinking about what I want to write about next.

I’m getting more passionate about creating and organizing, making space for others to share their own voices and for me to share my knowledge and experience with others. I am starting to see beyond the scope of me and into the we in a way that I’ve always wanted to but not had the ability to do before because I had too many of my own stories in the way. It is quite exciting.

So, this is my check-in, I’m thinking about my projects and figuring out how to make them better. I have something big in the works as well as lots of little improvements on everything else. I have people interested in making art with me and am figuring out how to do it. I am still committed to this writing project specifically and am excited to begin bringing aspects of myself into it that have not been seen before.

Growth requires the temporary suspension of security.

This is a word that carries a lot of weight with me. Just how much weight I wasn’t completely aware of (consciously) until last night. As I have mentioned before Onyx and I have begun to create lists of tasks for me each night that I am to get done while he is at work. These are all sorts of things such as housework, spiritual work, making a living work, relationship work, or whatever else. They are to keep me on track and so I have a tangible thing to look at when I’m feeling like I haven’t gotten anything done that night and say “no, see, you have finished things!”

I’m not entirely sure why but the last few days I’ve been slacking a bit. I have not completed things by the time I have to go to bed and last night I forgot to send him my nightly text at 3am until nearly 3:45. This was not good, of course, and I knew that but sleep was necessary. The night before we had been talking on gtalk and he mentioned he was disappointed about me having to go to bed before everything was done but that it was acceptable because of circumstances that had happened. Following closely, last night he said he was disappointed in me for missing my nightly text.

I started bawling. Him saying that felt like punishment enough for what I had done because I felt so poorly about it. I knew it was a disproportionate reaction and I could actually examine my emotional reaction as it was happening, which was nice and is something I’ve been working on. Neither of us would have guessed I would have reacted so strongly to such a small thing, but I did. I was somewhat shocked, actually, and thus commenced my analyzation of why that term has such power over me.

When I was growing up I was rarely punished for bad behavior. My mother is big on developmental and child psychology and my father would just get withdrawn and upset but rarely directly punish me. I can only think of one instance where I was even sent to my room, so mostly my “punishment” was guilt or being told they were disappointed in my behavior. Naturally this created a trigger in me. I strove to never disappoint them (or never let them know about what they would be disappointed about). Disappointment was the worst thing I could do to someone.

That’s not to say I don’t and haven’t disappointed people. There are plenty of things I have done that I feel bad about, but for the most part those are small things, there is nothing in my life that I regret.

I attribute the weight of his words last night to be partially because of the new power dynamic that we have been building between us and partially because of hearing it two days in a row. I was already feeling down from the day before and I was already beating myself up about not doing what I was supposed to and he said that. For the record, I keep saying “he said that” but I’m not placing blame on him for my reaction or anything, neither of us could have predicted that is what would happen. Vaguely I remember recognizing disappointment from others as a source of pain for me, but it hadn’t come up in so long I just had no idea I would react so strongly.

I also have a tendency to subconsciously punish myself. I was feeling extremely down after that happened and although I got myself to feeling a little better through the hours before Onyx came home when he came home I closed myself off and didn’t allow myself to find the comfort in him that I might have been able to if I wasn’t, essentially, punishing myself. There was no time when I thought “I’m going to do this” but that is what happened. I was sad and closed off and I had done the same thing the night before as well, though to a smaller extent.

Onyx and I had a talk about this earlier today so he knows about what the word triggers in me and we discussed possible options for punishment that he could inflict that would not be as damaging or affect me for so long. Of course, if I do something or don’t do something that carries a lot of weight with it he also knows that he can use that word to hit home the true weight of the situation to me. Ultimately, this is another tool for him to use in our dynamic.

It wasn’t long ago that Onyx put a collar around my neck for the second time, but at the time there was little that came along with it that wasn’t already in our relationship. The last year has been the best we’ve ever had together, and after nearly six years together that’s saying something. Hopefully, though our effort at sustaining and nourishing our relationship, that trend will continue. After the first time he collared me and I moved in with him there was a time when we attempted to implement some service and protocol in our lives. It didn’t work.

There was lots of baggage we both were battling back then, issues and assumptions we both were making due to past experiences either with other people or with each other. I desperately wanted some structure. I wanted clearly defined rules and protocols. I wanted all the things I’d heard what M/S is, the things I had read about in books and erotica. I wanted to be controlled by him in every way. When we tried to put those into practice, however, I rebelled. I didn’t trust him. I couldn’t submit in those conditions. He couldn’t control me and I wouldn’t let him.

Fast forward four years or so. The last year we’ve been at our peak as far as our intentional non-egalitarian relationship, which I often refer to as Owner/Brat for lack of a better term. I am owned by him, I am his, but I am not always submissive or obedient. I have the leeway to be a brat, to struggle, things we both really enjoy (though usually I’m only a brat in certain contexts). I had been consciously neglecting the other aspects, however, at least partially because they didn’t work before.

Enter Delving Into Power, a weekend intensive by Lee Harrington (who has some wonderful clips here on the Kink Academy) that Onyx and I attended the first weekend of February. Going through that weekend my Service Submissive self was tapped into and I realized there were aspects I was missing and that Onyx and I were finally in the right place to address service and protocol in our relationship so naturally I began scouring the service and protocol category of Kink Academy to see what other tools I could find.

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I’ve been taking this class. It’s pretty amazing, really. I’m halfway done and at the end of it I will be a Certified Hypnotherapist. One of the wonderful things about it is we get to work on each other in the class, so I’ve been hypnotized more in the last few weeks than I have ever before in my life (in some ways).

Last weekend I was regressed to a time when I was approximately three or four. Let me back up, actually. During the weeks before with all the information that was being thrown at me I came to a realization of a belief I held since I was a child: that what I have to say was not interesting to other people. Further, that people would ignore me. It developed in to a bunch of other beliefs as well. It was the basis of my social anxiety, of my lack of interaction with others in all fields, online including. It’s funny that online social interaction can often be just as nerve-wracking as face-to-face for me.

I don’t want to go into the details of my regression, but I’ve already felt the changes in me. I’ve let go of the fear I once held on to so tightly. I feel amazing. Whether or not this is a permanent change is up to me, and I’m dedicated to letting it be.

I’ve noticed little changes in my behavior, including commenting more on other blogs in the last few days and just generally being more chatty with friends, but I’m really hoping this changes my interactions with other bloggers. I haven’t really cultivated any deep relationships with other bloggers (or other people, for that matter) the way I would like to. I had a fear of interaction so deeply rooted that it held me back. Well, no more.

I’m amazed at the power of the work that I’m learning to do, and excited by it as well. This class has blown my mind many times and I’m only halfway through! I’ve greatly increased spiritual work I’ve been doing in the last six months and am moving closer and closer to a greater understanding of mySelf. Change is amazing.

I seem to have gotten past the point of trying to nitpick my identities and settled into a space of simply sitting back and enjoying them. That’s not to say that I’m not still analyzing and overanalyzing my identities at the same time, but I’ve gotten out of the “but what does it all mean?” funk that I seemed to be in for the better part of the last year or more. Instead of being obsessed with being seen by others as whatever given identity I want them to see me as I’ve settled into the realization that it’s not a failure on my part if I’m not seen a certain way.

Gender was a great source of questioning and anxiety last year in particular, before that it was my power/bdsm identity, and it seems as with my switch identity I have settled happily into a fluctuating identity. My genders seem to fluctuate greatly, there are times when I feel extremely compelled to present femme, which has been recently, and other times when femme just doesn’t fit as well and I lean toward the boi and fagette. I’m coming to feel like fagette is my home planet and femme and boi are the two I take frequent jaunts to on my spaceship (see: Gender Galaxy), which kind of makes sense in that fagette feels to me to be more androgynous, something else entirely, and closer to my core genderfluid identity than the presentation of femme or boi.

Overall I’m genderfluid, genderqueer, or any of the other words used to describe a non-fixed-in-the-ever-pervasive-binary and non-fixed-in-general gender. I enjoy playing with all types of gender expression. My gender is play. My gender is drag. While gender is definitely more than the clothes we wear that is a huge identifier and I do tend to dress femme most of the time, mostly because skirts are just damned comfortable (especially when you have long labia and multiple labia piercings). I also find it easier to find plus size feminine clothes that I like than plus size masculine clothes that I like. I have these damned hips to thank for that.

Instead of looking at presentation as a way of limiting myself by being unable to present the multiplicity or fluidity of my being I’m simply letting go of those worries about what others might possibly think of me and contenting myself in the knowledge that no one can have a whole idea of who and what I am because that is constantly in motion and constantly changing. If someone chooses to latch on to the idea of me as a fixed identity that is their problem and not mine.

I can content myself in the knowledge that I can be the inspiration for new and ever changing thought processes in others and in myself simply by being myself and allowing myself to be at every moment. I allow myself to simply embrace my identity at any given moment without the hangup of what I felt the last moment or what I might feel a moment from now. It’s truly freeing and inspiring.

For the last few months especially I’ve been calculating a position regarding people in my life. Basically it’s this: if someone don’t make me feel good then I don’t want to be around them. Of course, there are times when life gets in the way and negative things happen, when I might feel sad or bad about something that is happening to the other person or a mistake I made, who knows. I’m not talking about those things, though, I’m talking about if, more often than not, joy is brought to my life because someone is in it.

Selfish? Maybe. But I’m such an emotional sponge that I just can’t stand to choose to be around negative people. When around those types of people I become negative and depressed, my life has less joy, and what’s the point of living life without joy? I realize it may not always be my choice, but when it is I will choose not to be around them.

It may sound simple and intuitive, and in some ways it is both of those. However, it has not always been simple or intuitive for me. I used to be attracted to people who were projects, by which I mean people I thought I could help or fix in some way. This also meant that I was, in many cases, the sole supporter or contributor in the relationship. I would give and give and give and the little scraps I got in return were just enough to sate me so that I could give some more.

It took a lot for me to realize this, and I can’t say that every relationship I’ve ever been in was exactly the same, but a lot of them followed this basic pattern. Of course, there is much more to this pattern than I have really mentioned and there were lots of other things going on too, and I guess that makes it sound like it was all the other people’s faults and that’s not really what I mean. Analyzing the patterns is more of a job for another post, however.

More interactions with he who I’m from now on referring to as Adam have lead me to believe that he is used to this type of relationship from me, even after a couple years of not speaking, which just reminded me of why I stopped talking with him in the first place. The curiosity and temptation have worn off for the most part and while I’m interested in interacting with him on some levels I’m just not sure how he fits in with my new philosophy.

I am focusing on pleasure, which is also evidenced by the change of this blog title to Purveyor of Pleasure. Along with pleasure I’m focusing on joy and positivity. I am, in fact, dedicated to the cultivation of all of these things, and hope my actions and writings can help bring them to others as well.

For a while now, really ever since I switched from Femmeinist Fucktoy to Femme Fagette I’ve been unsure of that blog name. Even when I made the switch I was hesitant because my identities are fluid and I tend to shift and change and rearrange myself often. I have wanted something a little less identity based and a little more solid. I couldn’t figure out what, though, and I liked (and still like) Femme Fagette, so I went with it.

I mentioned a couple posts ago that I was thinking about changing my blog name but didn’t yet know to what. You may or may not have noticed the switch yesterday from Femme Fagette to Purveyor of Pleasure. The URL changed as well to ofpleasure.com (I also got purveyorofpleasure.com and it’s pointing to this blog as well, but ofpleasure.com seems much simpler, easier to remember, and cleaner). It is less identity-based and a phrase I’ve been using for a while on my business cards. Of course now I have to get new ones printed. Dammit.

Hopefully, if you’re reading this through RSS, nothing should have changed for you since you should be getting my RSS feed through feedburner. Also, if you came here via a link from another site or are looking at the main page the URL should be different but it should still take you to the right place. This change will mess with my pagerank for a little while, but I think it’ll be worth it.

So, please, if you’re reading this, update your links if you haven’t already. Although it will automatically redirect to the right place it’s still best to have the correct link and title.

Also I put up a new layout on Wanton Lotus, so take a look at that as well.

My life seems to be shifting in new directions all over the place, and with that comes the need for change in other areas. I have far too many things on my docket and I’ve mentioned before about needing to get organized, unfortunately I can’t seem to do that. It’s a common scenario, and I can blame the last week of non-accomplishment on my mother visiting and doing things with her, but even before that I wasn’t getting everything done that I wanted to.

It would be less of a big deal if I didn’t actually want to change. I’m trying to learn to focus with joy but I seem to not be prioritizing the way I would like to be. How does one get on top of this sort of thing?

On the flip side, I’m thinking about a new name for this blog. Something more androgynous, maybe, or something less identity based. I kind of like the idea of going back to The Feminist Fucktoy, except I’m having some weird feelings about the term feminist lately, mostly it’s connotations. While I think it’s important to reclaim a word I also don’t like the things carried out in the name of feminism that seem overtly non-feminist (in the way I understand it). There’s a longer post in there somewhere, and one I plan on writing… eventually.

What does that mean? The header might change, I might add another URL to the long list of ones that point to this blog, you’ll still be able to find me. My RSS feed will be the same. I just don’t know what I want to change it to. Cuntpet also has it’s draws, not to mention the added bonus of already having the domain, but I’m also currently and often in the mood to have someone call me Daddy, so that would be too limiting and narrow of a title. I want something that is all of me while also being flexible enough to incorporate new aspects as they develop, is that too much to ask? Well, yes.

In other words, don’t be surprised if you come to this blog one day only to discover it has moved to another domain, another phase in the blog complete, shifting in a new-yet-still-the-same direction, letting this blog evolve as I do. In some ways I’m tempted to start over, something new and different, shed this persona that is not separated from me in any way and do something more anonymous, more free. In others, I embrace the brand I’ve built up around myself and want to continue it. I just need a new phrase for this period.

I used to think I was an exhibitionist. I still do think that to a point, but lately I’ve been so reserved and worried about the way others perceive me I can hardly call myself an exhibitionist. I’m more self-conscious now than I have ever been before in my life. I’m less outrageous, trying to blend more, and just generally unsure of myself. Recently I had two separate conversations on different topics that lead to this point, I’m letting my ego get in the way, my anxiety take over.

Even though it seems like this is the opposite of the ego’s job, it’s still part of the same mold. The same part of you builds yourself up that will knock yourself down. The ego is responsible for the worry and anxiety and stopping you from being you just as it can be responsible for the arrogance and puffed-out chest of confidence. Either extreme isn’t desired, but, as with all things in life, I seek to find a balance, a happy equilibrium within myself.

This might sound crazy coming from someone who blogs about her life, who routinely informs others about her sex, thoughts, and feelings, but especially lately I seem to have a difficult time believing that other people are actually interested in hearing what I have to say. I’m not talking about on here, but in person, when I meet new people or interact with known ones. This was especially true the first few weeks after I got back to Seattle.

When I was in Juneau I was much more comfortable. My motto for Juneau is basically “it’s Juneau, nobody cares,” and I would say it whenever there was a question of etiquette, appropriate dress for an event, or pretty much anything. This isn’t really true, though. Juneau is a small town and there is tons of gossip. Despite thinking it was super liberal when I grew up (and it is compared to the rest of Alaska) there are still lots of non-liberal ideas and people who live there, and it isn’t comfortable to express everything there.

I do think that, for the most part, people in Juneau don’t give a shit about you unless they know you, however, and that’s where my motto came from. I never really got invested in Juneau people. Growing up there I did tons of activism in the high school, I was in many theatre productions, people knew who I was but very few people actually knew me, and I liked it that way. Going back was very similar, only I knew even less people. I knew people could recognize me, and people did quite often, but if they had any preconceived notions of me it didn’t matter, or maybe it mattered less.

Some of this goes back to what I was talking about in Relational Assumptions. I’m worried about what people here will assume about me, I haven’t been able to adopt the same nonchalant attitude because I actually want to be invested here, I want to gain friends and not be a loner like I have been previously. I want to be more outgoing and social, but I need to stop caring so much about what other people think, because I want people to like me for me and not for anything else.

I like being a multifaceted individual, but sometimes it’s exhausting because I’m too worried about other people to express myself fully. A friend, in one of the conversations I mentioned above, mentioned she had learned to instate a complete honesty policy in order to encourage compatible friendships and discourage ones that could turn sour down the road. I think I do this too… to an extent, anyway. I will answer questions honestly but don’t always offer up information unasked, but I want to change this.

I’m trying to shed the trappings of my ego, acknowledge them and move past them, to stop being so self-conscious. Care less what people I don’t know think about me and more about feeling comfortable within myself and expressing myself however that happens. I want to start volunteering information about myself, start realizing that people care what I have to say and actually have an interest in hearing it. Part of the beginning of this change in me came in dying my hair from the reddish brown it has been the last few months back to a bright purple, the rest of it will come soon.