Ask not, Bliss, for what is already yours.
You know.
Whoot,
The Universe
http://www.kimweston.com/index.htm
How very very strange that just last night I was saying how I had wanted to ask the man estranged as my father if I could borrow some money. For weeks now I have been saying that I want to ask him. As if by saying to as many people as would listen that I want to ask him, then somehow I would find the courage. Then whilst speaking with E my mobile phone rings displaying a blocked number. I had a funny feeling I needed to answer it. My Father! Furious. Because I was on the other line and had been for longer than he was able to deal with. He commanded me to put the other line down. I did, BUT, for once I found a voice in my anger. I said how rude I thought he was, that I was talking to a friend. He objected and demanded for a little while longer but I did not budge. He said well he was too tired now anyway. I said I would call back tomorrow then and we agreed upon 10 am. I phoned E back, explaining and apologising for cutting our conversation short. She was so pleased with that I had said to my father. I had been boundaried and not submitted to his unreasonable behaviour.
Now this is interesting as for most of my existence I have complied with his wishes even when unreasonable. And I flitted by a comment recently that quite often people with an interest in slavery or submission often have childhood experiences of abuse.
Anyhow back to the story. My father called back. I knew he would. I know him so well. He apologised for being angry and said that he is giving me some money and wanted to arrange to meet for coffee. I said thank you and as agreed I would call him at 10 am the next morning. He moaned and groaned again especially when I said I was talking with my friend.
I called at 10 am - well 10 minutes before actually. I asked if it was too early. He said now and said we will meet in P at 11 am. I was there just before 11. Slightly shaken by m y assertiveness with him. Terrified as a result of being late with the call to him and the meet with him. He was later than his military precision would normally allow - 20 minutes later than coordinated timing. Ha! And so he was inappropriately apologetic - inappropriate because he blamed a traffic jam and the police etc with some cock and bull story about the policeman knowing him and words being exchanged - bullshit!
Anyway, generally the coffee meet was OK. I was myself in a sort of breezy manner - not all tense and barricaded up. He spoke mainly about trivia and other people. Oh he said that his medals were in the Will for me. I am still in the Will - phew! On condition I don;t sell them - the medals. I enquired how he and T are getting along, he choked out a bubbly "fine" into his one-shot Latte - when did he get so hip? And turned the focus onto his dislike of her daughters. So I take it then that he's not entirely happy. Usual story. Grinning and bearing his rather impulsive decision!!! Rot in hell. I should not be so mean and resentment ridden - BUT I AM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Pray pray pray for the willingness to feel compassion and warmth. Through gritted teeth I pray that she and he are happy together and find peace in their latter years. Pray to ungrit my teeth and mean it.
Coffee drunk, hour nearly passed, time for him to turn into a pumpkin. Well he always seems to be on limited time on the rare occasions we meet. He slipped me an envelope like he was passing me an undercover job that would self-destruct when he blinks his eyes. Cash! Wow not even a cheque signed by him. Weird.
Weirder when you understand how he thought a visit from me when mum was still alive meant I was taking another brick from his house. And how he has constantly raised all the times I was a half wit with money and simply a waste of space.
Anyhow I am very grateful indeed for this gift. Not sure whether there are strings attached as he didn't want me to ask why and wouldn't tell if I did ask anyway - (ner ner ner ner ner, I could have sworn I heard this childish taunt). Then as we left he realise he had given me too much. Rather he had not taken out the money "she indoors" wanted. It's not her fucking money went through my angry mind. It's my mums! well not now my mum is dead. BUT it's till not HERS - grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
We walked to the car park, still with a jovial spring to our step. I could feel the awkwardness goodbye always brings. That time when he turns to kiss me on the cheek - as repulsive for him I guess as it is for me. What then? Oh yes because I damn well complained about him kissing the ugly step daughters and shaking my hand goodbye once. Let it hurt - don't flipping well tell him. Victim of my own bloody truthfulness.
Oh well - now I need to find a way to stop the kiss. YUCH YUCH YUCH
Anyway - he did not define me. I defined me and let him decide whether he likes me or not - he doesn't have to meet me again ever if he really doesn't like me. But I am not ever going to match up to what he wants so I can stop trying to. FREEDOM.
For today at least
I feel OK right now - somewhere is sadness for the lack of a regular father/daughter relationship. ANGER - RAGE = yup feel that alright which screens sadness so well. Once the anger subsides the sadness and hurt is sure to sting.
I did it and I have some money too.
The little kid in me was so excited that the grown up in me did not let him bully us again last night. The kid in me today wanted something - a toy - colouring pencils, something brightly coloured, something but I don;t know what. I didn't buy anything because this is familiar. Buying something with wide-eyes that when in reality again it's not meeting the need and so something else is needed - addiction - who knows. But I have been home since and writing or reading or talking with friends. Not achieving much at all but just tootling along.
I DID IT!
Oh the LL went to the vets. Happy pills for her. Hope so anyway. Scared of her ageing.
Hating my hormonal changes. Really hating them these last days. Very uncomfortable. STOP IT!
And this contributes to me feeling so unsexy - I am not at all slavish. Luckily Master is away for the weekend. He demands not from me really.
It's odd with him away. It's lovely knowing he is out doing what he loves doing. Fresh air, wood all around him, his very best friend with him and people wanting to learn from him.
It feels OK for me to just be tootling around with these little throw-ins like my father and coffee.
I am so uncomfortable I don't want Master to have to encounter me at all. Ugh - let this phase and the symptoms pass sooner than now.
I don't know why I posted the photo - I don't feel like anything sexual at all. Yet the photo sort of oddly reflects that. A hint of her nipple but trying to keep herself hidden - or is she?
I have discovered Kim Weston's photos and been enjoying them. Hints at and portions of bodies. A lot is left to a creative peruser.
I don't want to be exposed to Master in an y state less than sexy and naughty. I don't want to be exposed when my father is anywhere close by. He's in this Blog. Yuch.
He cannot get me though.
Universe I ask to be shown what I already have - to keep opening my eyes and to learn and grow through the awareness. This happens every day. Thank you Universe.
I love Master.
I have plans to speak with another friend this evening. I need Master's help to know how much time I might be permitted to have with friends.
Bliss
X
You know.
Whoot,
The Universe
http://www.kimweston.com/index.htm
How very very strange that just last night I was saying how I had wanted to ask the man estranged as my father if I could borrow some money. For weeks now I have been saying that I want to ask him. As if by saying to as many people as would listen that I want to ask him, then somehow I would find the courage. Then whilst speaking with E my mobile phone rings displaying a blocked number. I had a funny feeling I needed to answer it. My Father! Furious. Because I was on the other line and had been for longer than he was able to deal with. He commanded me to put the other line down. I did, BUT, for once I found a voice in my anger. I said how rude I thought he was, that I was talking to a friend. He objected and demanded for a little while longer but I did not budge. He said well he was too tired now anyway. I said I would call back tomorrow then and we agreed upon 10 am. I phoned E back, explaining and apologising for cutting our conversation short. She was so pleased with that I had said to my father. I had been boundaried and not submitted to his unreasonable behaviour.
Now this is interesting as for most of my existence I have complied with his wishes even when unreasonable. And I flitted by a comment recently that quite often people with an interest in slavery or submission often have childhood experiences of abuse.
Anyhow back to the story. My father called back. I knew he would. I know him so well. He apologised for being angry and said that he is giving me some money and wanted to arrange to meet for coffee. I said thank you and as agreed I would call him at 10 am the next morning. He moaned and groaned again especially when I said I was talking with my friend.
I called at 10 am - well 10 minutes before actually. I asked if it was too early. He said now and said we will meet in P at 11 am. I was there just before 11. Slightly shaken by m y assertiveness with him. Terrified as a result of being late with the call to him and the meet with him. He was later than his military precision would normally allow - 20 minutes later than coordinated timing. Ha! And so he was inappropriately apologetic - inappropriate because he blamed a traffic jam and the police etc with some cock and bull story about the policeman knowing him and words being exchanged - bullshit!
Anyway, generally the coffee meet was OK. I was myself in a sort of breezy manner - not all tense and barricaded up. He spoke mainly about trivia and other people. Oh he said that his medals were in the Will for me. I am still in the Will - phew! On condition I don;t sell them - the medals. I enquired how he and T are getting along, he choked out a bubbly "fine" into his one-shot Latte - when did he get so hip? And turned the focus onto his dislike of her daughters. So I take it then that he's not entirely happy. Usual story. Grinning and bearing his rather impulsive decision!!! Rot in hell. I should not be so mean and resentment ridden - BUT I AM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Pray pray pray for the willingness to feel compassion and warmth. Through gritted teeth I pray that she and he are happy together and find peace in their latter years. Pray to ungrit my teeth and mean it.
Coffee drunk, hour nearly passed, time for him to turn into a pumpkin. Well he always seems to be on limited time on the rare occasions we meet. He slipped me an envelope like he was passing me an undercover job that would self-destruct when he blinks his eyes. Cash! Wow not even a cheque signed by him. Weird.
Weirder when you understand how he thought a visit from me when mum was still alive meant I was taking another brick from his house. And how he has constantly raised all the times I was a half wit with money and simply a waste of space.
Anyhow I am very grateful indeed for this gift. Not sure whether there are strings attached as he didn't want me to ask why and wouldn't tell if I did ask anyway - (ner ner ner ner ner, I could have sworn I heard this childish taunt). Then as we left he realise he had given me too much. Rather he had not taken out the money "she indoors" wanted. It's not her fucking money went through my angry mind. It's my mums! well not now my mum is dead. BUT it's till not HERS - grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
We walked to the car park, still with a jovial spring to our step. I could feel the awkwardness goodbye always brings. That time when he turns to kiss me on the cheek - as repulsive for him I guess as it is for me. What then? Oh yes because I damn well complained about him kissing the ugly step daughters and shaking my hand goodbye once. Let it hurt - don't flipping well tell him. Victim of my own bloody truthfulness.
Oh well - now I need to find a way to stop the kiss. YUCH YUCH YUCH
Anyway - he did not define me. I defined me and let him decide whether he likes me or not - he doesn't have to meet me again ever if he really doesn't like me. But I am not ever going to match up to what he wants so I can stop trying to. FREEDOM.
For today at least
I feel OK right now - somewhere is sadness for the lack of a regular father/daughter relationship. ANGER - RAGE = yup feel that alright which screens sadness so well. Once the anger subsides the sadness and hurt is sure to sting.
I did it and I have some money too.
The little kid in me was so excited that the grown up in me did not let him bully us again last night. The kid in me today wanted something - a toy - colouring pencils, something brightly coloured, something but I don;t know what. I didn't buy anything because this is familiar. Buying something with wide-eyes that when in reality again it's not meeting the need and so something else is needed - addiction - who knows. But I have been home since and writing or reading or talking with friends. Not achieving much at all but just tootling along.
I DID IT!
Oh the LL went to the vets. Happy pills for her. Hope so anyway. Scared of her ageing.
Hating my hormonal changes. Really hating them these last days. Very uncomfortable. STOP IT!
And this contributes to me feeling so unsexy - I am not at all slavish. Luckily Master is away for the weekend. He demands not from me really.
It's odd with him away. It's lovely knowing he is out doing what he loves doing. Fresh air, wood all around him, his very best friend with him and people wanting to learn from him.
It feels OK for me to just be tootling around with these little throw-ins like my father and coffee.
I am so uncomfortable I don't want Master to have to encounter me at all. Ugh - let this phase and the symptoms pass sooner than now.
I don't know why I posted the photo - I don't feel like anything sexual at all. Yet the photo sort of oddly reflects that. A hint of her nipple but trying to keep herself hidden - or is she?
I have discovered Kim Weston's photos and been enjoying them. Hints at and portions of bodies. A lot is left to a creative peruser.
I don't want to be exposed to Master in an y state less than sexy and naughty. I don't want to be exposed when my father is anywhere close by. He's in this Blog. Yuch.
He cannot get me though.
Universe I ask to be shown what I already have - to keep opening my eyes and to learn and grow through the awareness. This happens every day. Thank you Universe.
I love Master.
I have plans to speak with another friend this evening. I need Master's help to know how much time I might be permitted to have with friends.
Bliss
X
