My Vicky Life

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Well…maybe just a little sex.

Well…maybe just a little sex.

so whatever happen to your "friend"? Are you still friends?

Anonymous

My dear Anonymous, I think so. But even if the “issues” I’ve blogged about didn’t exist and he and I were perfectly compatible, it’s unrealistic to think there could be anything serious between us. He just started a new life in another city, and in spite of the unfamiliar surroundings, I presume he knows how to find women who share more of his preferences than I do. I can only imagine he’s done so already, and that’s as it should be.

My one incentive to try to stay on his radar is that what little we’ve shared that some would consider “normal” was about a thousand times better for me than it has ever been with anyone else. Even the parts that weren’t really “my thing” weren’t entirely un-enjoyable, simply because it was his voice in my ear and his kisses afterwards. With anyone else I’m sure I would have completely lost my mind.

I do still struggle with the images on his blog, and I’m trying not to look at them so much. I text him every now and then, and he always sends a sweet reply, but other than that I don’t hear from him. So all I can do is wait until the next time he’s in town and see what, if anything, happens then. I suppose if I were still on Facebook I’d have some idea of when that might be, but I honestly think I’d rather not know.

I have to say I was surprised by your interest, and I thank you for it. ♥

Jan 1

This is your blog, not your followers, feel free to post or express anything in it you choose. But since you are moving this to another blog I will respect that and not post anything else on this subject of your friend here on. Just a teeny general note. I hope you may find it in your heart to still love and cherish this friend despite his kinks. Nobody is our version of perfect and if you care about him as much as you've expressed then I wouldn't cut him off. That's all. Namaste.

Anonymous

Anonymous, you are the best. Since your message is as much about friendship as anything else, it’s not out of place here. I do still love him, maybe now more than ever, and I hope he won’t give up on me now that I’m finally starting to understand him better, and to discover some surprising things about myself as well. Actually, I’ve already kind of put that other blog on hold. I think I’ve been doing way too much talking and thinking, and even though I still have many questions, it’s time just to breathe for a bit. Let’s see what the new year brings. ♥

Jan 1

Forgive me, kinksters

I’m coming along. Really. The other day I’d reached a crisis in my struggle to understand my friend and his BDSM blog. I asked for help. A few of you answered. It seems I ruffled a few feathers, which I hope you now realize was not my intent. I was pretty sure, though, that I’d finally managed to alienate my friend for good. Not so, to my surprise. He called, he came over, we went through his blog, picture by picture, gif by gif, and he patiently explained. I cried a lot. There are things I still can’t comprehend. So, I’m moving this topic to a new blog of my own, where I hope you’ll continue to offer your advice. I’m not going to link to it. You’ll find it by its tags. Its other purpose is to relieve my followers here from having to put up with my bullshit sex hang-ups. I beg these people’s forgiveness as well, and promise to get back to the music.

Part 2: might have to respecfully say u are not into that kind of lifestyle or play an that u would like to just stay vanilla and be friends maybe. I dont know the situation romanticly between u two so that might not be possible. But all i ask is dont sprea the poison that someone is wrong or fucked up because they like bdsm. When done correctly it can be a freeing and amazing thing.

Oh, please, please, please don’t misunderstand. (Here I am all teary again.) I don’t think that someone is wrong or fucked up because they like BDSM. If that’s what I thought, I would have walked away long ago without even making an effort. It’s just that I still haven’t been able to wrap my mind around certain things, and I can’t help or anticipate or avoid the emotions that get stirred up inside me when I see these things depicted on his blog. Actually, the words you’ve used - “pet play” - are helpful. When you put it that way, I can maybe almost see it. This is precisely why I’ve put all this out there - not just as a self-indulgence, and certainly not as a condemnation of BDSM, but as a way of tapping into the wisdom of those who know more about it than I do.

As for your "problem" the only problem is that ur not into it. Hes not a bad person for liking bdsm or pet play or master/slave relationships if done right and both parties are consenting then theres nothing wrong there. U seem to have given it a try and u didnt like somethings an somethings u did seem to like. If ud like to keep talking to him do so, maybe talk tohim about what u like and dont like. What ur limits are and maybe even things ur open to try. If he doesnt understand then yes u

Part 2 of this message in next post…

About this problem you're having with this "friend" If I were you I will walk away. I was once in a similar situation and lets just say it did not end well. I say keep walking and don't look back. He will not change and you will never understand even when you try. Just for curiosity where can I find his blog? I hope I was able to help. Happy New Year

Anonymous

It’s possible the decision to take your advice will be made for me, since I messaged him about my current distress and haven’t heard from him since. The reason it’s difficult to walk away is because we were friends for more than a year before I even knew about his blog. For all I know, there may be other people in my life with preferences similar to his, and if I start judging them on what they like to do with consenting partners in the privacy of their own bedrooms (or dungeons, as the case may be), I fear I might end up with few friends left. Anyway, I’m sorry your situation didn’t end well, but you seem to be free of it now, and I hope the new year brings you many good things. Given what you’ve said, though, I’m a little confused by your interest in his blog. You’ll have to forgive me for hesitating to point to it. Even if I have trouble with its content, I feel like I have to respect its anonymity. As you well know, here on Tumblr, there’s nothing more precious than that.

Russian Hamlet,

the last ballet I saw that I actually enjoyed, because it wasn’t the same old Balanchine, Tharp, Taylor, and Robbins that I don’t care if I never see again as long as I live. It’s not exactly Shakespeare’s version, but the title character definitely has mommy issues, his girlfriend dies under odd circumstances, his father’s ghost shows up, the play’s the thing, and everybody goes off the deep end. The choreographer is Boris Eifman, described in the Wikipedia as being “known for his dark portrayals of anguished sexuality and extreme psychological states.” Considering what I blogged about earlier this evening, and considering my habit (or defense mechanism, you might call it) of trying to associate my angst-du-jour with art, it’s small wonder that this work suddenly crossed my mind after so many years. Nice to find the whole thing online.

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Part 11:

What’s one more failure this year?

One of my previous posts on this topic was titled, “I Give Up,” but you didn’t think I’d really give up that easily, did you? Of course I’m referring to my friend with the taste for all things sexually sadistic (so consider this the NSFW alert before you keep reading).

In my continuing struggle to understand his lifestyle, and to cope with the cruel joke that prevents us from having a mutually satisfying physical relationship with each other, I decided to try a new approach. I thought I could just agree to disagree with him (at least in my own mind) about the things he posts on his BDSM blog. For a while it worked. We texted, we talked on the phone, I baked him a cake for his birthday, we managed to maintain a tentative friendship. Although I’d said I wouldn’t, I kept looking at his blog. It’s such a big part of his life I didn’t see how I could shut it out entirely, and you can’t un-ring a bell. Eventually, with the help of some candid correspondence from a knowledgeable third party, I got pretty close to understanding (though not sharing) the desire for pain, and maybe also the desire to inflict it, even within the context of a caring relationship. But I still couldn’t figure out the mind-game part of it - the discipline, the rewards, the punishment, and especially the degradation. So it’s not surprising that, of all the grotesque images I’ve seen on his blog - women suspended in horrific contraptions, tied up in hideous positions, being flogged, gagged, beaten, prodded with electrical devices, and subjected to all manner of torture and violence - the one picture that finally got to me, the one that reached me on a gut level so deep that I began weeping uncontrollably before my brain could even fully process it, was a simple gif of two women drinking out of dog bowls. So evidently I would rather see a woman being physically abused (if that is, as he claims, what she wants), than see a woman lapping up water out of a dog bowl whether she wants to or not. But that’s just me.

So, if I’m not making any progress in understanding him, then at least, for the first time, it looks like I might be making some progress in giving up. The last time I resolved to do so, not only did I fail miserably, but we actually ended up having sex. So you can’t say I didn’t really try to understand him. I withstood the pain (which I’m sure he significantly tempered based on his awareness of my apprehension, and I’m thankful for that), but it was the other stuff - the “training,” the withholding of kisses until I exhibited the correct behavior, etc., that I found most difficult to deal with, benevolent though it was. When I told him I didn’t quite get the role-playing thing, he tried to explain that there isn’t any. I argued, “Of course there is. I’m supposed to be the good little girl.” To which he replied, “But you are a good little girl.”

Yeah, I wasn’t so sure about that one. Nevertheless, and worst of all, the mind-game worked. Just when I thought my brain would crack, he did reward me with something more in line with my vanilla tendencies, and I loved it. Okay, TMI - so suffice to say I was still confused, but feeling a whole lot better. But then, today, dog bowls, and for the first time, I don’t know how or if l will respond if I hear from him again. Well, knowing me, I’ll probably respond, but I don’t know that I’ll be jumping for joy like I have in the past. I’m angry. At him, at myself - I’m not sure. But I’ve been angry before.

So, progress? Or total failure all around? The jury’s still out, and the end of the year is fast approaching. So, if I’m going to fail, I’d really like to do it within the next couple of days so that I don’t start the new year off on the wrong foot. Any advice between now and 12:01 a.m. on Tuesday will be considered and greatly appreciated (with allowances for those in more westerly time zones). Just so you know, I’ve already received the “fuck him” directive, but unfortunately there’s more than one way to take that. 

Fresh from my oven, Amish Friendship Cake, the same stuff I gave to Incubus. It’s a damn good thing they didn’t taste it (which I’m sure they didn’t), because they’d still be fighting over which one gets to marry me. Well, okay, it’s true - the cake wasn’t enough to save my own marriage, but to this day, whenever my ex-husband comes over here, the first words out of his mouth are, “Is there any Amish cake?”
This one, I’m afraid, is reserved for a certain sexual deviant I’ve been blogging about, and struggling with, whose birthday is tomorrow. It’s already been established he’s not into vanilla. Let’s see how he feels about cinnamon sugar. Either way, my apologies to the Amish.

Fresh from my oven, Amish Friendship Cake, the same stuff I gave to Incubus. It’s a damn good thing they didn’t taste it (which I’m sure they didn’t), because they’d still be fighting over which one gets to marry me. Well, okay, it’s true - the cake wasn’t enough to save my own marriage, but to this day, whenever my ex-husband comes over here, the first words out of his mouth are, “Is there any Amish cake?”

This one, I’m afraid, is reserved for a certain sexual deviant I’ve been blogging about, and struggling with, whose birthday is tomorrow. It’s already been established he’s not into vanilla. Let’s see how he feels about cinnamon sugar. Either way, my apologies to the Amish.

Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darknesses of other people.

- Carl Jung (via moonbrains)

Exactly one year ago last night I shot this video of My Morning Jacket in an amphitheater on the edge of the Everglades. I, who have seen live the likes of Jimmy Page, Eric Clapton, and of course, Michael Einziger, am here to tell you that Carl Broemel’s guitar solo in this video is the one and only thing that has ever moved me to tears at a concert. It’s fitting I should be remembering it now, since I’ve been doing pretty much nothing but crying for the past week or so, trying to get over that guy I’ve been boring you to death with lately. The one that reminds me so much of Jim James. Can someone please tell me how I’m supposed to resist such a great big hunk of auburn awesomeness? 

In response to my posts about this thing that has been troubling me so deeply, I’ve received a lovely series of messages from a very articulate young dominatrix (and I hope she’ll forgive me if I’m not using the correct terminology). If nothing else, she has helped me to realize I’m not insane, although now that that’s established, I’m still unsure of what to do. Here’s what she advises, which I’m sharing on the chance it might be useful to others:

"First and foremost, there is NOTHING wrong with not being into it. Whoever this is should know that it isn’t even fun to dominate someone who isn’t enjoying it. BDSM as a whole is taxing. It’s dangerous. And it can mess with your mind like crazy. And honestly, there have been many times I wished I wasn’t into it. But I am, it’s who I am. And I really, truly do enjoy it. But if it’s not who you are, it’s not worth it. You will end up with mental scars you do not want.

I understand that it might be difficult. And, if both of you are willing to compromise, you might be able to work it out. But do not, please, do not get involved yourself in BDSM activities if they aren’t right for you. You’ll only get hurt, and I’m talking emotionally.”
Dec 9

"I don’t want you be no slave."

Dec 8

Et tu?

I think I’ve finally figured out what’s still bothering me about this guy I’m trying to get over and this whole BDSM misadventure. I can’t go the way he wants me to go, but I don’t think I remember the way back to vanilla either, which leaves me pretty much nowhere. Sexual no man’s land, and it’s cold as a witch’s tit out here.

So I’m sitting here trying to think of something to do that might cheer me up, and suddenly I realize I forgot to watch Big Bang Theory this week. I bring it up on my computer, and what happens? Amy discovers she likes to be “disciplined.”

What the fuck is happening in my world?