All better now

Yesterday I dropped and crap did my mind go to a bad, bad place.

I put it down by running and hard yoga. I made it so by the time I sat with my wine to watch the horror show that was the last debate, I was numb.

Prior to that Sir and I had a long good talk. He understands why the processing part of Monday was hard. In hindsite now that I am out of the bad headspace, it came down to me breaking a rule of mine, not Sirs. I don’t play with swingers on first dates. 

I think this rule comes from a general distrust of people, especially in an overtly sexual situation. So my brain can rationalize being a bit of a whore as long as I am not doing it with strangers. The one exception is if Sir is there because then I can accept that I’m just following a command, not making my own choice.

Truth, I was just really horny. The next day I couldn’t stop leaking. The drop was triggered by the worst case of guilt and cunt brain.

What I really needed to hear and see was Sirs message to me this morning, that I’m not a slut, I am his slut. 

A funny, I posted a pic yesterday that said “I am not what you think I am, you are what you think I am”.

This year has taught me that that saying, that I always took in a rather pessimistic way, can be a good thing too.

I’ve ended many friendships because of people thinking that I would react one way, because it’s the way they would. 

In the instance of Sir, it’s a good thing. He sees the other side of me and does his best to remind me, when I forget, he still sees a good girl.

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