Tough Questions To Answer.


Lately, I’ve been experiencing more anger than I care to admit. Anger that suffocates my throat and fills my chest with the noxious fumes of despair and rage. Palpitating sadness that overshadows all the light in my world and forces me to focus on all the negative in my life. Sorrow that eclipses the joy, triumphs and beautiful moments that I have experienced so far.

My mind right now is a broken carousel of disjointed thoughts, but the biggest question that hovers over my conscience is why did God/the Goddess/the universe/the source bestow me with the gifts of empathy and writing in this sociopathic world of money and the ego?

I have a huge decision to make. Do I go the safe route of Business, which is all about materialism, consumerism and corporate greed, all which negatively impact the environment, society and the rest of the world? Or do I focus on my writing skills and just hope that jobs give me a chance?

Women have a much harder time finding work, period. My (assumed) gender identity, along with my past of severe mental illness, are making it extremely hard to establish a career. My location does not aid the situation at all, either. Being an hour and a half away from New York City definitely has its perks, but jobs from the city do not want me. Most, if not all, of the jobs in this area, merely require a high school degree and I have a bachelor’s degree.

All of this uncertainty triggers my anxiety so badly. I am struggling with suicidal thoughts, but thankfully I have had many therapists in the past that have helped me deal with these difficult, dark emotions. I am going to find a good trauma therapist so that I can finally discuss the past in more detail. It will be extremely hard, and I am scared to do it. I don’t even want to do it. But I have no other choice. I cannot continue living my life with this low self-confidence and self-loathing that plagues every facet of my life.


Dominant Men.


It makes me sad to say this, but I don’t think I could ever trust a dominant man with my heart, mind and body. I once tried to hook up with a dominant guy and I broke down and cried. If it weren’t for my traumatic past, I probably would be able to enjoy kink with acquaintances or even strangers. Not all men are bad, of course. But I’ve had unfortunate, horrible experiences. Experiences that have marked me. Add the abuse that countless of women endure from their partners and I just get paranoid.

I really don’t know why I have an attraction to dominant men and crave submissive acts when I am pretty much a dominant person myself. I am extremely independent, I hate being told what to do, I hate being treated as if I am lesser or weak. I think women are beautiful, brilliant and often times stronger than men. But I have seen so much misogyny in the kink scene and it really puts me off. Every time I go on Tumblr and see all these misogynistic men that claim to be doms but it feels like it goes too far. Like they truly loathe women like the rest of the world collectively does.

I rarely post my random thoughts like this but this has been bothering me a lot. Thankfully, I feel more comfortable when I am dominant now. If I were to trust a man, he would most likely be a submissive man.

The psychology behind my desire toward being submissive to a man eludes me but perhaps I will understand it one day.

Acknowledging And Releasing My Anger

I once went to a reiki practitioner. This was before I became spiritual in my personal life. My cousin had been raving about it and I had always been skeptical of it since I considered myself a science-based, staunch atheist. Well, long story short, I was proven wrong by this experienced practitioner and after she concluded my hour-long session, she told me that the main source of my depression was suppressed anger.

I thought it was interesting that she picked up on this without knowing how I have always avoided anger in my life. I am not saying I am better than most people, but I rarely take out my anger on others. Of course, I am human and sometimes it has happened, but that is why I have always directed the misplaced anger toward myself. That is the reason why I’ve self-inflicted so much pain, whether it be through cutting myself, drinking myself to a stupor, shopping to excess or having numb, vapid sex with strangers.

Anger makes me extremely uncomfortable. I don’t like letting people see me in such a vulnerable, embarrassing state. It may sound silly, but perhaps as an empath, I feel anger much more intimately than others. I can literally feel my throat tighten up and every cell in my body vibrates with that emotion.

I agree with what my reiki practitioner told me, though. She said that anger is not a negative emotion. Society shames us for acknowledging and expressing our anger in a healthy way. It’s not good to hurt others because of our emotional pain, but it’s also unhealthy to suppress it and pretend that it doesn’t exist. I’ve been ignoring my anger for much too long and it’s time that I released it in a healthy way. It will be extremely uncomfortable, but I am already seeing changes now that I am talking about my anger and focusing on the emotion instead of fleeing from it.

Rekindling The Connection With The Little Girl Within


I think the biggest reason why I was primarily seeking a daddy dom in the recent past is that I love the way the dynamic was forcing me to reconnect with the little girl inside me that has been broken, scared and lost. Because of the sexual abuse, I was forced to worry about things that no child should be preoccupied with. Wondering if I had an STD. Paranoid about getting pregnant, wondering if the child was going to come out sick because my family member had intercourse with me. The heart wrenching thought that my family was not going to believe me and that they were going to turn against me and defend him (I was right).

I really feel like I can’t trust men. Before I found my partner, I tried seeking a boyfriend, and nearly all the men that I connected with were sadly, far away, but they were also daddy doms. They were in touch with their gentle, sensitive side that wanted to nurture and embrace the little girl inside of me. Nearly all of them were kind, docile and completely respectful. They made me feel safe. Which is extremely hard for me to encounter with men.

Sadly, society conditions men into believing the false belief that women can only be one label at a time. A woman can’t be an entrepreneur, mother and sex goddess at the same time. The mere idea of this concept makes most men’s heads spin (I’ve witnessed it firsthand). Even I bought the belief that I could only be one thing at all times. I tried that and it further alienated me from the little girl that needs constantly healing and love within me.

I used to think it was stupid, to love stuffies, pillow forts, coloring books and cute hair pins since I am a 28-year-old woman. Granted I get mistaken to be a seventeen-year-old most of the time, but still. But now I know that it helps me immensely, to get into my ‘little girl’ zone where I am able to be a little girl without having to experience the trauma of incest. My room is full of stuffies and my bookcase has a growing number of children’s chapter books. I go to the library and take out ten children’s books at a time. I love eating Justin’s dark chocolate peanut butter cups every day (gluten-free and dairy-free).

Perhaps to most people, I need to grow up and ‘toughen up’. But I’ve always been tough. I’ve always been mature, having to worry about situations and possibilities that honestly, a lot of adult people never experience. So I will continue focusing on my little girl side and continue nurturing her because she has been neglected and lonely for much too long.

It’s been a year since I last cut myself. It was this time last year that I drove home drunk from the bar and cut my forearms so badly and passed out. When I woke up, the shaving razor was cut in half and there was blood on the floor. I had cut so deeply; the wounds took over a week to heal. The mere possibility that this could happen again instilled pure terror within me. Driving drunk and possibility murdering someone by accident. Cutting so deep that I never wake up again.

But it’s been a year that I’ve been self-harm free and it’s been extremely difficult. I haven’t drunk alcohol to the point of becoming sick or blacking out. I’m so happy that I haven’t relapsed, so as a gift to myself, I will be buying myself another stuffy to encourage me to continue the good work that I’ve done. 🙂

I hope everyone has a lovely and safe Thanksgiving tomorrow.



Lost Innocence


For much of my life, I have felt ugly, stupid and worthless. Experiencing sexual abuse has this effect on people. Quite honestly, I feel like I was used and disposed of when these people had their fill of me. And quite honestly, that is exactly what happened.

I have perpetuated this abuse by sleeping with men that could care less about me. If I had enjoyed most of these encounters, I would not feel anger, shame and regret. Sadly, though, I rarely enjoyed these sexual encounters. They were vapid, mind-numbing sexual interactions that further alienated myself from the sad, hopeless girl that was abused and treated like a sex toy.

All of this is extremely difficult to talk about. It’s not easy for me to recollect these memories and speak about them so candidly. It hurts. It hurts because I’m finally starting to understand how much this has affected my life. By pretending to be okay, by lying to myself that my past no longer haunts my subconscious, I made it so much worse.

One of the actions that one of my abusers (a family member) would do to me would tell me that I was the most beautiful girl on Earth and say that we would get married one day. Then the next day he would literally tell me that this other girl was much prettier than me and I would just look down to the floor and say, I know. Men have always compared to me other women in this way. And it really hurt. To know that I would never be good enough. Pretty enough. Sexy enough.

The little girl inside of me will always feel this way. No matter how skinny, how fit I become, I fear that I will always feel ugly and inadequate. Not good enough. No one can change this perspective for me. I will have to learn how to change it, day by day, until one day, I can look into the mirror and see that little girl smiling back at me, whispering to me, You are the most beautiful woman, inside and out.

Repeating The Abuse Through Promiscuity


It makes me really sad and ashamed to write this, but I really do feel that I have been promiscuous with men due to the abuse that has haunted my subconscious. I was used by these men that didn’t care about my beautiful soul, my introspective insight, my creative, original mind and I allowed it to happen. It’s what I was used to for so long. To be used by men as a vessel for their selfish pleasure.

I once had a guy inside of me and I literally felt nothing. I didn’t feel discomfort or pleasure. Just a blanket of nothing. He wasn’t a small guy, either. As an empath, my emotional and physical selves are undeniably linked. Every time I allowed a man to have sex with me, I was repeating the past. It’s a sad concept to accept, but psychologically, it makes 100% sense.

There is nothing wrong with a woman enjoying sex with multiple men. As long as she isn’t coerced or forced and she gains pleasure from it. I hold the firm belief that most people are not monogamous but in fact poly. And there is nothing wrong with either dating choice. Women can genuinely enjoy one night stands, three ways, gang bangs, and whatever else men are into. Many women are sensual creatures that crave the erotic.

But thankfully, after awhile, you start to gain confidence and you realize that you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. And that sex is supposed to feel good and it’s not supposed to be one sided. I am happy that I’ve discovered all of this and that I am finally healing.

Fetishes & Kinks Derived From Sexual Abuse?


It’s been awhile but I am happy to say that I am doing better and better everyday. My confidence is slowly growing, I am starting to love myself more and more everyday and even though I have days where the depression and anxiety are overwhelming, I do not give up and I focus on the bigger picture instead.

However, there has been something that has been pestering me for quite some time now. If you’ve been following me since I started this blog, you can obviously tell that I am quite kinky. I know that there is nothing wrong with being a sexual woman, or with not being sexual. By nature, I believe that I am a sensual, erotic person; I love the eroticism and connection that I experience with someone when we are intimate.

A few years ago, though, I read a personals listing on Craigslist that really provoked me; to summarize it, the gentleman was searching for a female slave and wrote that the kinkiest, most sexual women tend to have pasts with sexual abuse. That really hurt to read, to think that something so liberating and beautiful such as kink was a result of such a violent, hurtful act. I vehemently denied it at first, but as time went on, I started to become dubious over my initial reaction and started to wonder: could he be right?

I truly believe that the answer to that question is not black or white. There are many people that enjoy BDSM and have no sexual abuse in their past whatsoever. A great example of someone that supports this fact is Sasha Grey. I’ll never forget seeing her on Tyra Banks and enduring the sex shaming that Tyra put her through, only to shine through with her intelligence and authenticity. Like with any institution or industry, porn has many problems, but when done right with someone sex positive, who genuinely loves sex, and isn’t coerced into it, I don’t see what the issue is.

For quite awhile now, I really did believe that most of my kinks were directly linked to my previous sexual abuse. But now I see that this statement simply isn’t true. Yes, I enjoy a lot of things that were done to me through sexual abuse, such as car sex, having a guy ride my face. But I still have major issues with vaginal intercourse, and I think bathroom sex is repulsive.

Sexuality is complex and that is a beautiful thing. I feel lucky to be so in touch with my body despite the violent trauma that I have underwent. Instead of being afraid of my body, which so many survivors sadly experience, I embraced it and have brought myself to orgasm so many times it feels like a thousand times, honestly. Multiple orgasms, squirting. After talking to many women, I realize that I am one of the lucky ones. I have been masturbating ever since I was 13. I became sexually active when I was 16, voluntarily, with my ex-boyfriend. I see nothing wrong with my kinks, desires or fetishes and I will continue to embrace the sensual, erotic woman in me that society desperately and simultaneously tries to abuse and silence.

And I keep telling myself this: my past does not define me. I am not my abuse. I am me. And I wouldn’t change anything about my past because it has led to the beautiful, strong and empathetic woman that I am.

Good News And Bad News.

The bad news: I have an STD.

The good news: it’s 100% curable.

I got a text message from my health clinic this morning about my lab results while I was at work. Immediately, I panicked, thinking the worst and assuming that I had HPV, which is untreatable and extremely common. I called them right away and the nurse said I tested positive for chlamydia. She was extremely kind and reassuring and told me that it’s 100% treatable with antibiotics. I got my prescription sent over to my pharmacy and I just took it two hours ago.

I suspect that I got it from this guy that I was seeing last year around November. My pelvic pain started around June, and even though I only gave him oral once, that’s all it took, sadly. Thankfully, we didn’t have intercourse. God knows what other diseases I would have gotten.

I guess I’m frustrated and upset with myself more than him. My relationships with men have always been awful. Even though I am pansexual, I find it very hard to become attracted to men, specifically cisgender men. Perhaps I am too sweet and get taken advantage of by these selfish men. Most of them have compared me to other women, a trend that I see prevalent among straight men and that really irritates me. I am in no competition against any of my sisters. If I could go back in time and avoid having sexual relations with all of these men, I would. I gained nothing from it. Absolutely nothing. Most of it was not enjoyable at all. I was putting myself through the abuse I underwent over and over again.

Thankfully, I am in relationship with a woman that loves me for me, not for the sex that I can offer her. I’m so grateful to have her. She said she would still be with me even if I had an incurable STD. I haven’t been intimate with her because I didn’t want to give her anything. I found a sex therapist in New York City that seems really promising and addresses sexual abuse in adult survivors. I think that would really help me. I need to address the trauma that I underwent which continues to haunt my subconscious.

The other good news is that I might have a second job. 🙂 I have the interview tomorrow in the evening. I want to save up as much as possible before I move out with my girlfriend. There is an LGBTQ career fair in New York City next week as well that my girlfriend and I are attending. I feel very disillusioned with my career search but I am willing to give it a try. I really need to work on my confidence more.

I’m exhausted so I’m off to bed. I hope everyone has a good night.

Healing Is Difficult.

I’m too scared to write this anywhere except here. I don’t want it being traced back to me. It’s 3:16 AM and I just have so much on my mind. I am finally accepting that the past has marked me in ways that I never fully acknowledged. It explains why I slept with so many men and felt nothing at all. Some may say I was looking for love in these strangers. An escape. A savior. A way to reclaim the sexuality that was forced upon me when I was much too young. But now I realize that I was just repeating the same abuse over and over again, allowing these men to use me for their own selfish desires. The last time I had sex was over a year ago and I’m shocked that I haven’t contracted HIV or an STD (I got tested yesterday, all negative) from the few times I had unprotected sex because I genuinely didn’t care whether I got a disease, why did it matter if I didn’t want to live anymore.

And I was foolish enough to follow society’s ill advice of ‘leaving the past behind’ and numbing myself with other vices such as alcohol and food. I dabbled with pills a few times but my body does not react well to most of them. Always trying to escape the past. Never dealing with the real problem.

There’s too much to write…too much to confess. Now I wonder, if I hadn’t been sexually abused by these men, would I still be the sensual, erotic creature that I am? I do fantasize about enjoying penetration, but sadly, because of the abuse, it almost always hurts, no matter how turned on I am. The past bleeds into the present. The present seeps into the future. The three simultaneously happening.

Perhaps that is why I have written dozens of erotic stories and poems where I safely explore my sexuality. The writing world is a safe haven, a place where I am not judged and ridiculed. Where the past doesn’t resurface and suffocates me with its noxious fumes.

I could very easily hate men and say that they are all vile and selfish…but I’ve met many women that are the same. Egocentric, sociopathic and narcissistic individuals that hide behind carefully constructed veils of superficial beauty.

Yes, I’ve been to therapy. I’ve been going to a shrink for over ten years, vomiting the same insecurities and fears. I highly doubt any of them would take my out of body experience seriously. Labeling my experience as a hallucination. But it wasn’t. My soul split from my physical body and watched the abuse transpire. (I vaguely brought this up to one shrink and she dismissed it.)

Thankfully, I am better now. Every day I get better. I wasn’t expecting to be alive at the age of 28. Ten years ago, I was in the mental hospital. I felt like an ugly, worthless and stupid waste of matter. I’m still working on my confidence and it’s extremely difficult. After being told by boys that I am ugly and stupid, it’s hard for me to believe it when one tells me that I am beautiful. Two years ago, I was 150 pounds. Now I am 109 and still getting fit. I no longer cut myself. I don’t drink to escape the pain. I don’t force myself to get with men. I’m just happy to be breathing and to enjoy another morning, afternoon and evening. I find beauty everywhere, everyday. That’s what keeps me alive. That’s what keeps me present. And grateful.

Always Healing

There is so much on my mind and I’m not sure where to begin. I’m happy I’ve kept this blog anonymous. I was going to delete my previous posts, but I have no shame in my fetishes/kinks. From now on, though, I will be focusing on subjects that most people don’t care to discuss but that I have to address.

For awhile now I have been suspecting that my high sex drive is an unfortunate result of the sexual abuse/incest that was inflicted upon me by family members. I could very well be a person of pure hatred and vitriol after the things I underwent, but I have chosen to forgive my abusers because it has brought me some solace and peace. I do not want to become a hateful, vengeful person like my grandma, who is suffering mentally, emotionally, spiritually and physically from all this toxic hatred that she clutches onto.

Unfortunately, even though I have forgiven my abusers, the past will never change. I have foolishly bought society’s lies that I can leave the past behind and make a new future. If only it were that simple or even true. This is why famous people like Chester Bennington commit suicide. These demons stalk you and feed your depression, anxiety, PTSD and addictions 24/7, 365 days a year. I am thankful that I know better now and that I do not follow society’s unhealthy and psychologically unsound advice to pretend the past never happened and fill the emptiness in my heart and soul with vices such as alcohol, meaningless sex, shopping and food. In the past, I’ve used cutting as a coping mechanism, too.

And it’s impossible for me to forget the past when it affects my everyday life. PTSD changes your brain and it’s very, very hard to undo that change. I do everything that I can to help my mental illnesses: I work out everyday (toning exercises, jogging for two hours), I eat a clean vegan diet, I rarely drink alcohol and I am no longer sexually promiscuous. But unfortunately, the past manifests itself in my unconscious through panic attacks which I have no control over and crippling waves of anxiety and depression. Not to mention bouts of insomnia. I either eat too much or I don’t eat at all.

There is a lot of work that I need to do. I need to forgive myself for so many things. Such as fooling around with two married men. Sleeping with all of these men even though I didn’t even want to and I didn’t enjoy a second of it. Risking the chance of getting an STD or HIV. Pursuing emotionally abusive relationships that hurt me and damaged me even more. I have so much hurt inside of me. But I focus on the positive everyday and choose to smile because I am a survivor and I am beautiful in my strength and perseverance.

It’s 5:56 AM and I only had three hours of sleep earlier. I will take some time to ruminate before I write my next post, which will be extremely difficult to write about but that will help me immensely, I believe. I am hoping that by sharing my personal story with others, I can help at least someone. That’s all I want.