I'm Ready

I'm ready to start dating.

I'm ready to be in a committed relationship with a well-adjusted, kind, funny, and sexy man who will love me for me, but also know how to push and guide me in life to mutual goals.

I'm ready to give love to such a man.

Because you know what?

I deserve it.

Period.

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I am a recovering perfectionist. I treat personal development the way an addict treats "just one more." There is no hesitation, criticism, or blame when I say this. I am a recovering perfectionist.

Where others say, "the sky is the limit" I say, "why stop at the sky?" I dream up the infinite of the universe, from black holes to billions of stars escaping death through the shining light that reaches our eyes. I am a recovering perfectionist. I know success is possible from the depths of perceived impossibility because I have seen it in others. I am a recovering perfectionist.

Living imperfectly I embrace my flaws and live my life how I choose. I am a recovering perfectionist. I do not feel complete, but I feel I have a purpose.

Therefore, I am perfect.

Happy Canada Day!

So I'm not Canadian, but I know readers out there are and you know what? My experience when I visited all those years ago y'all are the. nicest. people. ever. So here's to celebrating you and your awesome country!

5 Truths

Five Truths I Know About Myself Right Now:

1. I am my own savior. 


2. I am beautiful


3. I have everything I need right now


4. "No" / "Failure" is not an option (but I am flexible when getting to my goals)


5. I LOVE MYSELF UNCONDITIONALLY

A Story of Lack and Loss

We've had a death in the family last week and my reaction to it has gotten me thinking. Me and death have a strange relationship wherein I don't view it as a goodbye or some great tragedy, but more like another way to transition to something else. This time, however, it struck a massive fear I've been moving through that had me paralyzed for a few days. Stay in bed all day, afraid to go outside and do things paralyzed. In bed I prayed, meditated, slept, read books on grief and self-help; yet there I was: terrified to move. It all came to me making myself sick and developing my very first migraine (I do not wish those on anyone). The migraine passed and I wept great tears for the loss of my family member, the loss of my way, and, finally, I began to feel better. I could get myself out of bed. I could talk to someone about how I felt... I could write about it too. 

This story I told myself while I was in bed is not new to me: the story of lack. Those shoulds and this is how it should be, all running, hiding from my feelings in the present and berating myself for not... whatever. While I am still sad about how my family member chose to end his life, the fact that I admit that I am feeling that way is a tremendous step on my part. To admit and more importantly allow myself to grieve has lifted my spirits immensely. The task of applying this same lesson towards other aspects of my life is my new and top priority in my personal development. I believe all will be well. 

Earning Submission

Sometimes... OK, a lot of times my thoughts turn towards submissiveness (I just rarely post them). I think of what submissive I want to be, and in all reality it is just an extension of myself. To be patient with a huge dose of snark are my ideal traits, but of course I'm flawed and so snark and stone are mostly present as of now. But that desire is there. The desire to please and have faith in another is very much present. To be rewarded with slaps and kind words spreads warmth between my legs just to write it.

This idea of earning my submission and being rewarded for it is huge for me. Two of my favorite eroticas With This Collar by Sierra Cartwright and The Saint by Tiffany Reisz have these traits in them: what the submissive does outside the bedroom affects how they are rewarded inside the bedroom. While I think I'm doing a fairly good job with drastic personal development, I like to think I can appreciate a man who would subtly turn me in the direction that would please us both equally. To me, that shows forethought and interest, as well as fearlessness and compassion.

It's pretty clear that it takes a strong type of woman to be submissive, and one word of criticism and all my squishy bits suddenly feel exposed and this fragile love I've built for myself evaporates. It begs the supreme question: am I really submissive without that outlet? Without that unrealistically high bar of strength I hold myself to? Sometimes I say "of course." Other times, the answer is "it is only a goal to achieve with the time is right."

Maybe it's a bit of both.

What a Rut

I've hit a bit of a lull in my life this week. Lots of sleeping, not reading, generally dropping most of the daily cleaning habits I've developed. Two things have really been building, weighing pretty heavily on my mind: dating and money.

By this point I should be pretty grateful how the Universe deals out my cards. Cerebrally I know no matter how bum-tastic the state of affairs feels right now, I have the tools to be my bad-ass self and pull my shit together. My feelings-- those sticky, icky bits-- are throwing a mega pity-party for themselves. Questions of adequacy and worthiness pop up all the time that give me pause in my decisions... hence the lull and temporary ineptitude to things other than work. I worry I don't have "enough" money. I worry that because of my severe muscle atrophy in my leg that I won't attract an active, dominant man... when that's the type of guy I ultimately want to be with. I worry that I'm not sexy or beautiful enough. I worry that I'll attract the wrong man just because I'm starting to get a wee lonely. So I've told myself the story of avoidance.

So how do I resolve these feelings of inadequacy and worthiness? I don't know, that's why I'm writing about it. The best thing to do (and what I've been eking out) is to go ahead despite my fears. Lemme just tell you, battle paint stains.