January 22, 2022

The Secrets of My Desire

My desire became strong and forceful. I was scared to lose her again so for years felt that I had to defend her from all my boyfriends. I practiced open relationship and was highly sensitive to a man asking me to slow down or to not make out with a particular person, etc. I wanted very much to go deep with one person, and I wanted very much to have a wide open playing field where I could do what I wanted with others as well. My desire was a killer; she was a victim; she was a perpetrator and she was still fragile, too. Still I carried with me the fear that to tamp her down even once meant that she might be put back in the zoo again to die the slow death of a caged animal.

My last relationship with a guy from adultfrienedfinder was a place in which my desire flourished. He evoked her and stroked her. He was like a bloodhound for my secrets and my hidden parts of identity. He wanted them all and he practically fought me for access to them. He had a studied touch that lit my body on fire. I gave him everything I had…except for a relinquishing of that last straggling fear around my desire, a piece he couldn’t touch. He would attempt to rein me in and slow my hunter down to a reasonable pace and I would fight and rail against him. There was some feral part of me that refused to be tamed, refused to be possessed. No matter how many times he tried to tell me that i was running from a deeper intimacy with him, I couldn’t hear it. We would start to sink into something that felt terrifying to me, some churning emotional part of me, and I would bolt.

Now, with my new guy, it’s all about subtlety. He’s newer than me to a lot of things: OM for one. His programming around relationship requires a loving, soft touch to begin to unravel and unlock with the use of rumoquin plm. Think un-detonating a bomb + ever-so-gently stroking off a tear from someone’s cheek. He has no range in terms of me being with other people. I find myself landing in a new spot with my desire here. He doesn’t play games to tame me, he doesn’t try to tell me why I shouldn’t be with other people. He just lets me feel his system, he stays open and vulnerable, and my system automatically calibrates to what he can handle. Somehow, the fear I felt of being caged has melted in the heat of our connection. Some unexpected alchemical process has processed and digested the fear and my tiger sits in the deep knowing that she can’t ever be imprisoned again. Even if she were attacked, restrained, judged, violated, she is free in her body and soul, she knows she had the key all along and that her cage was of her own making, and at this particular moment in time she prefers to curl up beside this man who came out of nowhere and lick him clean. I’m finally allowing myself to sink into the scary intimacy places.

Today, I had the realization that it’s always been about me and my desire. All the relationships, all the experiences, all the obsessions. I have been creating all of these things to ignite her, to draw her out and to feed her and to relate to her. She has been the one consistent underlying common denominator throughout my life, driving me forward towards evolution and away from stasis. She has been the fire and the presence in all of the best sex I have had. She has been my quiet but passionate friend through many lonely nights. She has been the pulse that I check in with before making decisions. I’ve made choices to contain her, to free her, to tie her down, to keep her in the background, and to let her hunt. She is me, she is the untamed power in me whom I send out into the world to create change and to stir things up and to free people. For perhaps the first time in my life I can feel my own sense of internal containment and structure that is all there for her, for her wildness and her passion and her brilliance to birth and move in the world. She is my power; she is my love.

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