Category: Personal essays

  • Safe-words, trust, and all that fun stuff

    Safe-words, trust, and all that fun stuff

    Coffee cups and chocolate croissants. Photo.
    Image sourced through Pixabay.

    Today, folks, I have a confession for you: I’m still nervous about safe-words. Nope, not about using them – I will always tell a partner if I need them to stop. What I’m nervous about is that I sometimes ‘forget’ I have a safe-word, not in a consent-y way, but in a there-is-a-specific-word-that-lets-your-partners-know-you-want-to-stop-sex-now’ way, and a your-partner-has-safe-words-too’ way.

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  • Lustful jealousy and wanting to be spanked

    Lustful jealousy and wanting to be spanked

    Woman lying with her back to the camera in a red bra. Photo.
    Image sourced through Pixabay.

    I started writing this post late at night, with my ear phones in and music blaring in an attempt to not overhear the sounds of two people fucking. I wrote it while blinking back tears, refusing to cry as I struggled with lustful jealousy and a desire to be spanked by a specific sadist. I wrote it to process the emotions I was feeling, so this is probably a clusterfuck of a post – sorry folks.

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  • I want you to meet the person I’m going to become

    I want you to meet the person I’m going to become

    Flight of intimidating stairs leading upwards. Photo.
    Image sourced through Pixabay.

    I wanted to write something vulnerable today, and channel my mess of emotions into creating a piece of impactful writing. I have no idea if I’ve done this, but this post discusses self-love and self-hate, with mentions of suicidal ideation because a lot of my worst depression comes from a place of being disgusted with who I am. It’s also sort of a love letter, to someone I hope one day meets the person I’m working to become.

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  • Being my own knight in shining armour

    Being my own knight in shining armour

    Three rose pink macaroons sitting next to a pink rose. Photograph.
    Image sourced through Pixabay.

    I’m writing this post while wrapped in a blanket and safe in a pillow fort, and really wishing that there was someone who would go out in the rain and get cookies for me. Yesterday was tough, and I’m spending today trying to take care of myself. As a result y’all get a post about my continued adventures into polyamory (ish?) and a bit of a discussion of my depression and my Daddy kink (content note!).

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  • My first sex club and the power of saying no

    My first sex club and the power of saying no

     A transfeminine non-binary person and transmasculine gender non-conforming person flirting.
    Image from The Gender Spectrum Collection

    Ever since the wonderful play partners with whom I had my first ever threesome took me on an adventure to my first sex club, I’ve been meaning to write about it. However, it’s taken me so long to sit down and type out my adventures that the thing I remember most clearly from that night is no longer the sex. Instead this post become about something else: BDSM boundaries, consent in kink, and the fact I have the power to say no.

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