I’d like to call in Black…

i am so tired of seeing black bodies shot by police, by hearing women sob, children beg for the right to breathe.  i am exhausted from the weight of worry-for my husband, every Goddamn time she walks out our door-for my black friends, who survive just on happenstance.  The stars aligned just right to not get shot for being black.

i try, very hard, to live close to my own values.  Of course, i’m a slave, and that means one thing-i obey.  i obey my Owner when she demands i not go to protests, even though i find sitting here praying to be morally corrupt when i should be doing something to make a difference.

i smile at every black and brown body i see.  All the time.  i am always praying, always acknowledging, because so 0ften our young men go from adorable little boy to perceived threat overnight.  No one smiles anymore, not even other black or brown faces.

i try to use my Facebook page to be a place where i encourage social activism, social understanding, mindfulness, strategies that cost only time and heart.  i try to not be a part of the problem.  i vented my feelings-briefly-on my Facebook page and got called out, which i didn’t appreciate.

i live in a place where stop-and-frisk happens on the regular, targeted at black and brown bodies, targeted at poor people in poor areas.  i actually yelled at a police officer this week, the first time in my life.  He was yelling at us to pack us further into the crammed bus, where there was no place to move, like we were his children, like we want our big assess pressed into strangers, like he had the right to damn near strip search us over a two seventy five fare and then demand how we rode too.  This doesn’t happen in white spaces, white places.  i yelled at him, ranted, and the people around me were supportive and loving, in the way only people who also experience the regular harassment can be.

The police wonder why we snap, why we don’t trust them, why sirens mean something bad here.  The new white officers-kids, really-don’t know a damn thing about how to behave in the world.

At what point to we admit this is attempted genocide?

i’m weary.  i’ve been doing the work since i was 15 fucking years old.  When will we have to stop explaining that Black Lives Matter?  When will white people stop being so entitled that they think its okay to retort-All Lives Matter?

i am taking a class that reminds us we all have racial baggage, that “colorblind” is subversive racism, that-yes, black people can be racist against other black people, things that should be obvious but aren’t.  People talk about hair styles, appropriating culture, are mystified when i tell them to google “inappropriate workplace hairstyles” and see HOW MANY PAGES of black women show up.  This is not an academic exercise.  There is no excuse for the black body count.  i’m tired of trying to find civilized ways to point out unacceptable behavior.  i’m tired of being mindful, of lighting candles, of praying for the safety of black men and women and children.  i know i’ve earned the right to be tired, but even that seems so selfish right now.  And so i pray, one long prayer into another, and smile, and force myself to feel warmth to push that into the world because i still believe that love is stronger than hate.


Lots on my mind

i’m coming here to try and decompress before i keep going with my day.  i had a rough nights sleep, but was up with Master at 7:30 and at least got to have coffee and sit with her before she had to leave for a meeting.

Wednesday is my crunch day, where a lot of work is due, i have the farmers market, a few morning chores still need to be done, and laundry is waiting.  i need to get the laundry done today because the rest of the week promises rain and i’d prefer to not lug the wash around on and off the bus or up and down the streets in the rain.

i’m anxious about my Bigs today.  i’m trying not to be, because worry added to a situation never helps.  Instead, i keep trying to visualize the surgeons hands steady, him  waking up feeling well, and everything going smoothly.  i got a text out of nowhere a few days ago, which was a surprise because M hasn’t talked to me once since December, when she told me she never wanted me.  But these people are essentially my adopted parents in many ways, still the Bigs, and i want only good things for them.  The news wasn’t good.  i talked to Sir Raven about it briefly, and set about making sure that i’d have a green light to help if i was asked to at some point.

Karida is going well, which is a relief, because she is my Big sister and i am glad her mother is on the mend.  i’m glad they get to be together.  i’m glad she knows she can always call me, and that we hug over the phone.  When she gets home, we will celebrate with honey chicken and a cupcake crawl.

In other news, Sir Raven finally did reach out to my friend, sending a sparsely worded email.  It is my hope that they can form an open dialogue because S has been in my heart for a very, very long time.  Sir Raven has always said that it matters to her that i have support of my own, but in truth i have very few close or intimate friendships.  Karida and i are sisters, and i count that as an intimate friendship.  Next to her, i trust Olivia and then Butch.  That is different though, from a person who i’ve spent so many years talking to hours and hours each day.  It will be months yet before we can finally hug each other, but progress of some kind is happening between the Masters, and that is a great thing.  There are times that i need to hear that i’m okay, that i haven’t changed too much, that i haven’t strayed off my path too far, that i’m still me.  Sir Raven has friendships that span decades-a few of them-but S is my only one.  When other people would call their mother to hear that they are a good person when the world seems too grey, i’d get that from S.  i suppose it’s my need to have a Mommy coming out, even though it’s not always comfortable for me to make peace with that idea, because i like to think i don’t need anything or anyone, especially not anything Mommyish.

Sir Raven finally reaching out to her seems like she is moving into acceptance, i hope.  She has also made peace with the idea that eventually i will need a service dog, and that it is my goal to do this before i am fully blind.  If my eyesight takes another huge dip like it did before, we will look into a helper dog then.  If that doesn’t happen again-and i pray not-then the goal is the next couple of years we will have a dog for me.  Thanks and Praises to Shango for helping Sir Raven move into acceptance on my needs, even if they don’t always align perfectly with her wishes.  It is a big deal for Sir Raven to even agree that she understands a service dog will be a need for me in time, and that she will allow it before i have no other choice, to enhance my experience of life.  We may still be here in our little home that we love, and she knows that means there will be times she will have to walk the dog because we have two flights of stairs that i can’t always manage.  So, yeah, it is a big deal for her to concede on this one.  Just a dog not being a taboo topic is a big deal.

Fall is starting slowly, but it has arrived.  Finally.  It is my favorite season, by far.  Every Fall, though, i remind Sir Raven darkly, “Winter is Coming.”  Winter is her hardest season and i’m preparing again.  i found a Himalayan Crystal Lamp for 17 bucks at TJ Max, bought a new quilt for her bed because the last one was thread bare, and ordered a portable SAD lamp from Amazon last night.  i like the idea that she could take it to work, should she feel the need.  i read all of the reviews, everything was good, so we shall see.  Sir Raven bought me a new cozy sweater, and two shirts, because i don’t have much that isn’t sleeveless.  i’m over the moon about my new cozy sweater, which functions as a kind of security blanket to me while i look like i’m adulting.  😛

Today, i’d rather not be adulting at all.  Really what i need is a hard strap beating and a long nap.  On that note, i’m going to put on my cozy sweater, walk to the Farmers market for Sir Raven’s treats, and meditate on sending love and light to my friends.

Holding on

It’s been an insanely busy week.  i had the doctor on Monday, so i rushed through the morning chores, getting the evening meal prepared, before i head out to Park Avenue.  i remembered to collect the FMLA paperwork, so i can start getting my shots again.  Technically, its a surgical procedure, and they can’t let me leave alone so Sir Raven will have to come with me for shot days.  The smell of rubbing alcohol fills the air, reminding me of the pain of the big needles that dig in deep.

i hold on to every thing i can, every possibility of hope, every way i can be better. Faster. More.

Tuesday, Sir Raven let me out of the house, and i met up with Karida for a lovely tea and scones at Alices Tea house.  We both remembered to wear our fairy dust necklaces, shopped in the barrette store, and gabbed over lunch.  She had to go take care of her mom for a bit, and i wanted to hold onto her in a sisterly way, wishing i could ease the journey.  i remind her to hug her mom for me, which cupcakes were her favorites in the little shop by her mom’s house, and try to give her money for all of the treats she took care of on our trip but she said no.  She said to hold onto it.

The next day, i had the farmer’s market run and errands and homework.  i may have also done a laundry trip.  i got my nails done, because Sir Raven reminded me its a rule, and my gel polish had started coming off.  This time, i got a awesome new thing-mood gel.  It was exciting to have a choice besides black, even though i like black, and-more importantly Sir Raven loves black on me.  i’m way impressed with the color changing Sapphire.

i don’t know what the hell i did Thursday, other than buy wine and cigars for Sir Raven, and get some other errands run.  i had trouble turning in some assignments, somehow they showed up blank on the message boards, and so i had to redo things.  My professor was really nice and emailed me though, which i really appreciated.

Friday, Sir Raven and i did a big trip to BJ’s because she had the day off and my check was in so the timing was great.  We got it all done in record time.  The freezer is full of different kinds of repackaged meats, where i portioned everything out for us.  Just getting everything put up took me over an hour.  i managed to get more laundry done after that.

Saturday was another pharmacy trip.  i was so excited to find some special treats for Sir Raven at TJ Max.  i have her Christmas started, because i’m a good shopper.  We have had some small household needs, like a new quilt for the bed.  i was allowed to get an amazon fire, the older one, and LOVE it.  Its made all of the reading so much easier.  Best fifty bucks spent ever.

Today, i had last minute assignments to do, a test to take, some chapters to review.  It just never ends.  i’m constantly working, busy, trying to get things done for school and home.  i haven’t found enough spare time to sit and write here.  i had something unnerving happen on the crowded train.  i saw a woman who looked exactly like a shrink i met when i was 13.  i remember her name, the beauty mark on her face was there, i was so convinced it was her that i nearly asked, “Are you Lynn R…?”  But then i thought, “What the hell am i going to do if she admits it?”  All i could imagine was screaming, “How could you?  You made the abuse so much worse.  You told her i was hiding under a table in terror because i was blindsided that she was coming at all.  You did it when you saw the black eye, the scars, the burns.  How in the fuck could you?  You sat around and had lunch with her like you were friends and then told me i could still trust you.”  The rational part of me remembers the doctor, who calmly and quietly told me he knew what was going on, that it was obvious, that my mother couldn’t charm everyone.  Then he said i only had a few years left to cope, and that with my family history i could be placed in foster homes known to be bad.  It was true.  Children of inmates get treated to “high risk” foster homes, and there was a large Baptist village nearby.

i remember sitting with the shrink, noting her Jewish Star, asking about her faith.  Years later, i read The Prince of Tides and paid attention when the psychiatrist noted her client transfixed at understanding survival, or trying to.  It was so painfully obvious what i was trying to survive-what i am still trying to survive, some days.

The train rocked, and i was inches from someone else who should have saved me but didn’t.  Of course sociopaths get away with everything they do.  Someone will always be there to look the other way, pretend its not obvious, ignore what is right in front of them, and suggest they just hold on.

i’m tired of holding on, but letting go is never an option.  So i hold on.

i hold on to people i love, gifts that try and say what i can’t, whatever dignity i can muster, whatever faith i have left.  That is what i quietly say to myself, over and over-just hold on.


In my meditations, i remembered something important.  When i felt very uncomfortable charging for giving psychic readings, the producer reminded me that people value what they pay for and put work into.  If i gave away my readings for free, it would inherently carry less meaning for the receiver, because of how we link together what is valuable with what we have put time, effort, money, work into.

In Yoruban tradition, kitchen help that works hard is given a little envelope with money, as a way of showing that the Priests valued the help given.  It allows you to have extra to put toward your own practice.  i used mine to buy more white candles for Sir Raven’s Altar, but anything that meets the needs of the Priest is just fine.

i would have been happy to give readings and work an Ocha kitchen for free, and felt funny about attaching anything to my service.  Likewise, i am happy to serve Sir Raven and not have expectations in return.

However, my part in not getting OUR needs met as a couple is in not making my efforts valuable and not expecting anything in return.  i taught Sir Raven to enjoy the same service, the same warmth, the same work-no matter what she didn’t do.   She benefitted in the short term, of course, but in the long run it did both of us a huge disservice.  Sir Raven may dislike the idea of touch, sex, s/m, or asking how i am actually doing on occasion-but she responds to these things.  She behaves in ways that are freer, happier, and her body releases oxytocin just like any other human when she gets physical attention.

So, just like my work in Yoruba and my work in Spirituality, i must value myself enough to insist that i am cared for in return.

This weekend was really great.  i had to drop off my poor macbook with a virus that kept frustrating me to death at geek squad on maybe Thursday.  Sir Raven had come home early, and i suggested she spend a few hours chilling and then we could go out to eat and get my laptop fixed.  She started not feeling well, so we just came home.  i’ve been taking care of her for days-making sure she ate, drank lots of orange juice and emergen-c, took cold meds, had clean sheets on her bed, and she let me rub vics all on her back at night.  She is feeling much better, which is great.

We did talk, shortly.  She agreed that the main issue is that when it comes to me she is lazy and selfish and acknowledged that i’m out of patiently waiting for change because i’ve been doing that for years.  She said she made a list for herself-of things she needs to work on.  She didn’t share the list with me, but did acknowledge that she needed to be responsible for us, too.  We also both agreed that the only way it could actually work for me to get out needs met outside the relationship wouldn’t fix our underlying issues, and could create other problems for her because she would loose a lot of control.  Control is her drug of choice, so i guess she will be making changes, and i will be supporting her in them.

We went together to pick up my laptop late yesterday afternoon, finally.  It was a real pain for both of us that i had to try and work on her laptop instead, which was cumbersome.  i came home and made chili with black beans and corn, and Sir Raven surprised me with asking if i wanted to play.  After the stress of the week, it was a huge relief.  She started with her strap, which i noticed calmed me almost immediately and allowed me to take quite a bit of her canes and other sharper pain, which is pretty important since we have not played in months.  We both really enjoyed it, i felt her sigh while using the strap on me, like her body finally relaxed after holding her breath for a long time.  i think my hunch was right on all accounts to ask for that awhile back.  We both needed the strap to connect us together in a way that  the rest of the toys just can’t do.

Today, i can still feel her efforts, so it should be an interesting ride into Manhattan.  i’m super thankful for her efforts today, because its humid and raining and i’m feeling a million times better than i generally do during this kind of weather.  i’m also just plain feeling loved, taken care of, and relaxed.  Thank you, Master. ❤


Sir Raven and i talked a few days ago, and it’s still on my mind.

i asked her if she felt anything about how her actions make me feel.  She said she feels disappointed when she lets me down.

Surprised, i asked her to elaborate.  “Well, you know what it feels like to disappoint someone,” she began.

i had to pause and think for awhile.  Of course, i have disappointed people, but it was largely because i was unable to provide what they needed or wanted.  In other words, i was too sick to carry out what was wanted that day and made it up the next day in full.  Or i simply literally didn’t have the money to do what i wanted for someone at the moment and had to do it later.

i tried to think of any occasion in life where i just decided, for no actual reason, to disappoint someone i cared for and never fixed it.

i couldn’t think of anything.  Even when i momentarily have a feeling of, “ugh, i just don’t feel like doing this thing,” i almost immediately decide i’m doing it anyhow.  Even if they don’t deserve it, can’t repay me, won’t be adversely affected by not doing it.

If i have a bad day, i redouble my efforts the next-i always have.

i’ve given away several thousand dollars in my life simply because someone needed it.  i give when it can’t be returned, i give of my time, money, effort, work.

The only person i am willing to knowingly disappoint is myself at times.

i was absolutely unable to relate to what Sir Raven was saying at all.  i just don’t know what it would feel like to have the time, money, health, opportunity to do something to please a person i care for and choose to not do it.  i don’t know what it would feel like to disappoint someone on purpose.

At first, she tried to tell me that i do, because there are days i’m too sick to get all of my chores done and that disappoints her.  But i feel like that is a different thing all together because i don’t have full control over it and i fix it the moment i can.  i’m always thinking about how to do little things for other people.  It is a huge joy in life to me to know how someone likes something and to have little treats for them.  Even when i don’t have the resources at the moment, i’m planning for when i do.

The other thing i am thinking about is The Talk we are supposed to have this weekend.  i’ve been thinking a lot about if/how it could work to have another relationship that is emotional, sexual, and includes s/m for me.  Sir Raven said she might be inclined to compromise that way, rather than do the work herself.  i’m trying to wrap my mind around it, trying to get my thoughts together so i can talk about it with her.

The only way i can think about it working is for her to have no control whatsoever over the other relationship and to basically have a Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell agreement in place.  To think of it sort of like joint custody-where each person would have their own rules and needs being met by me.

i don’t know who in the world would want that kind of thing anyhow.  People sexually attracted to me are Alpha type people, protective types, who are not naturally inclined toward sharing.  Plus, i can have s/m without sex but not the other way around.  So if i’m having sex with a person, s/m has to be some part of that or there is no real point for me.

Last night, we had a particularly nice visit for a friends Spiritual Birthday.  i brought a cold bottle of wine and the papers i had saved from MSC, handouts and guides to get a feel for the event, because he is interested but hasn’t gone yet.  i got to spend hours going from holding the 3 year old, 4 year old, and two month old baby.  They were a very affectionate bunch.  The boy greeted me with, “Hello!” and jumped up into my lap and arms for a snuggle.  Much later, he told me i couldn’t say “ABC” and went from man to man in the room, letting them all know they could say “ABC.” i felt like i was kicked out of the boy fort, but he was back to share his bread and get snuggles after i fed the baby.  Heh.  It was a really lovely night.  We got home around 11 and Sir Raven went straight to bed.  Fortunately, i had her lunch packed and coffee set up before we left.   i sat up and ate cake and chilled for awhile before i joined her in bed.

Yesterday was fairly tough during the day until i took a long nap and a muscle relaxer.  i had to cancel my pain management doctor for the first time so i have to do that Monday instead.  i can’t wait for Tuesday, where i’m meeting Karida for tea and scones!  i really need some girl time.

This afternoon, i’m meeting Sir Raven at Best Buy because my computer is full of virus and popups and misery for me.  Horrah for geek squad.  i’m so sick of trying to work with constant popups and crap going on.  Cross your fingers for me that it works. 🙂

Tell me

It’s been a rough few days, physically mostly.  One of the things fibromyalgia does is treat stress like its an invitation to have a massive party.  i’ve been running a fever for about two weeks, so i knew the big flare was coming.  It did not disappoint.

So, basically, i feel like i have the flu and have spasmed so hard that i couldn’t get up off my playpen to pee.  i nearly peed the playpen.  My bones ache, my teeth hurt, i feel like shit.  All of that pales, though, for how my heart feels.

When Sir Raven came home and had wine, she seemed to notice the shift inside me almost immediately.  She told me to bring my floor pillow over by her, felt my head, noted the fever.  i don’t tell her no, so it didn’t occur to me.  i passively sat there and let her touch me and tried to talk.

In short, she said her husband was a better slave than i am for her.  i calmly made it plain that she gave him security with marriage, and she showed him a great deal of respect because he was her husband.  She agreed.  i told her that she had no idea what kind of slave he would have been for her, if she had never given him the security and respect he needed to flourish.  She quit agreeing.  Of course.

We went to a class at MSC with a Master and slave couple who had been together for decades, and the Master remarked that he did not care for marriage as a concept, had never cared to be married, but understood this was the level of security his slave needed and it was his job to provide for that need.

The year after that, Sir Raven told me we would get married one day, and i waited nearly two years before she casually remarked one day that she had simply changed her mind because she could leave me a small bit of money in the event of her death without getting married.  i was stunned that she never came back to me when she changed her mind, letting me patiently wait, figuring she would properly ask me when the time was right for her.

i don’t think i ever got passed that kind of lie, that total disregard.

i think the worst part, for me, is that i actively don’t trust my biological family for compelling and obvious reasons.  It is impossible for me to accept that a person views it as their job to protect me, except for when i could be dying or in an emergency and then have to deal with my mother showing up to create a layer of hell previously unknown.

Sir Raven says, simply, that she “doesn’t want to, never wanted to.” No other thought, no other information.  To me, that is a good reason to never see a movie.  Just-not interested in that.  It isn’t a good reason to make a major life decision for two people.

The problem isn’t just the marriage itself, or not, but its representative of all of the ways she has created a major problem and never cleaned it up, never fixed it.

Some of them are small things, like the way she has talked about taking me bra and panty shopping and never has.   Or her promises of things like jewelry, leather corset,  really i could make a very long list of things she has said she was buying me-for years-and it didn’t happen.

Some of them are more important, like not making sure that i have the technology i need to function.  i waited years for my cell phone.  i finally had to go against her and buy my own macbook on a credit card i took out myself.

Some of them are huge-the marriage/handfasting lie, the money lies, the problems she created for me that are major and continue to be my burden to bear alone.

i’ve stood by her.

i shared with her that a part of the reason why is that i do believe in forever, in the sense that i believe love is a choice and a verb, and that each day you are putting in work for the future of your relationship.  i believe in forever in the sense that i believe in commitment and i believe in souls finding each other repeatedly throughout lives.

i told her she needs to move into being closer in alignment in my ideas on forever because it is easy to be hedonistic and selfish if you are living in the moment of what feels good right now rather than thinking about each choice being a block you use to build your future.

i very clearly pointed out that her option is to change, or to have me as a servant only-without any access to me emotionally, physically, or financially.  i feel fully justified in presenting these choices.

She has made small efforts to actually touch me, which is a starting point.  She did actually listen to what i had to say.  If she makes real and sustained changes, starts treating me well, gives me what i need, i’d be very surprised.  She has very little time to get it together before i decide for both of us.

i can’t silently wait anymore.  i can’t pretend that she has done the work.

i can’t


i won’t.



A Golden Rule

In my house, growing up, the Golden Rule wasn’t “do unto others how you want them to do unto you,” but “Don’t dish out what you can’t take.”

Anyone who did dish out what they couldn’t take was put in their place quickly, as it was a person unworthy of respect.

The only person exempt, of course, was my mother-to some extent.  My brother grew to give it right back, matching her verbal blow for verbal blow, treating her to her own behaviors.

i can remember being very young and angry with my mother, thinking that i wanted to be able to hit her back, ignore her, not care how she felt, bash her door in, threaten to “knock her teeth down her throat” the way she did to me.  It went against my base nature, and i quickly associated shame with those feelings of rage.

i know that i am in a bad place emotionally because i often fantasize about treating Sir Raven the way she treats me.  i want to snap at her, “Stop touching me! Enough!” or tell her she is boring when she isn’t, or tell her coldly that she is a Supervisor and this is her job like she says to me when i have a legit issue in Grad school.  i want her to never know what she is coming home to, how it feels to be openly ignored, how i could put everyone ahead of her, flatter and flirt with anyone but her.

i think, within a week, she would have a nervous breakdown.

i also think that she would hurt me.

Also, i’d hate myself for being so cold and pathological to make my points.  i wonder what will happen when i fall out of love one day.  i wonder what will happen when my heart stays shut down and can’t reopen for her.

This numbness is almost a relief.  i spent a lot of years focused only on what i could accomplish and feeling nothing else but pride in that.  i could do that again.  i’m more than half way there.

She has pushed and pushed and pushed for this.  Pushed me away, acted like a nicer person in front of people than how she is when we are alone, remarks openly about the attractiveness of other girls-adding me in as an afterthought or not at all.

Last night, she did bother to touch me in bed, just loved on my arm a bit.  That is something.  One day, she will wake up, and it will be too little/too late.

By her own admission, i am the best slave she has ever had.  Yet, she made huge choices and changes for other relationships.  Marriage. Tantric Sex. Therapy. Shopping trips to woo.  Dates.

She is going to her Leather Brothers meeting tomorrow and i want to tell her she doesn’t have time for that.  Nor blog reading.  Nor youtube videos.  Nor her screen play.  Nothing, really, because she hasn’t honored her commitments to us.  Of course, i’m the person who reminded her of her screen play, brought out her laptop for her, provided silence for her to work on something that matters to her.  i’m the person who thanks her daily for something, takes care of everything so she has hours and hours of free time daily, doesn’t make demands, saves and sends money to help out, removed all stress and pressure that i can from her life.

My heart is closed.  For it to open, she will have to consistently prove herself to me, and take full responsibility for the damage done as well as full responsibility for making amends.  i’m done having all of the responsibility.  i’m just done.