Photo Post – Stair Gazing

Stair Gazing… (Guest Post)

It’s all about the image

Stair Gazing… (Guest Post)

This week I am delighted host a guest post this week from @Swirlingfire who was inspired to join in by the monthly prompt.

***

The lower stairs I used to sit upon as a small child –  Waiting for Daddy to come home from work – waiting for my cuddles before bed;

The lower stairs I used to sit upon as a teenager – talking endlessly to friends on the once common rotary dial telephone;

The lower stairs upon which my father exhaled his last breath….

The kitchen is said to be the heart of the home,

The stairs are the entrance and exits to the lives that walk through this house

@swirlingfire

woman in lace stocking on stairsSinful Sunday bagde

21 Responses

  1. What a delight. Simply gorgeous. Love the words too

  2. Lovely, deeply moving words to accompany an equally wonderful photo.

    KW

  3. Wow, amazing words that beautifully enhance the image.

  4. That is just lovely – memories what would we do without them?

  5. What a nice post. Welcome. Nice legs too.

  6. Oh my!

    I am so glad she was inspired to join in. 🙂

  7. Firebird has asked me to say thanks for all your kind words here. I am so delighted that she joined us this week and I can see you are too 🙂

  8. Beautiful words and lovely picture.

  9. Such deep moving words and so many memories. A lovely picture to enhance them as well

  10. Wow you have fabulous legs and the words that go with this image are very poignant

    Mollyx

  11. Wonderful shot of an amazing pair of legs. Welcome xx

  12. So glad you joined in! Your words are so meaningful and the photo is gorgeous. Especially the elegance of your top foot!
    Aurora x

  13. Beautiful shapely legs.

  14. This really is a gorgeous image! Very creative!

    Rebel xox

  15. What a beautiful image and a poignant poem. I hope you’ll share more with us!

  16. Wonderful thoughts and amazing legs.

  17. Exposing40

    Beautiful reflections and happy to see that you’ve joined in. Know this would have been a big step (excuse the pun!) for you. Xx

  18. Firebird (@Swirlingfire) has asked me to post to say thank you to everyone who left such wonderful comments on this picture. Such a fab community.

  19. slave sindee

    lovely sexy legs

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:)

Photo post – “Anything Goes … “

Anything goes – A guest post

Sinful Sunday

Anything Goes

A short while ago a fellow Tweeter asked if anyone was available to host an image for Sinful Sunday. I, of course, jumped at the chance and am delighted to welcome @SwirlingFire

Anything goes by SwirlingFire

“In the olden days a glimpse of a stocking
was considered slightly shocking
Now heaven knows”

Anything goes – Thoroughly Modern

16 thoughts on “Anything goes – A guest post”

  1. Thankyou to Aurora Lucy and SwitchBitch for your very kind comments

  2. Beautiful! and so old Hollywood!

  3. Wow – what a beautiful image – welcome to sinful Sunday 🙂

  4. Wow this fabric looks gorgeous on your body! I especially love the addition of the glove. Fantastic photo! I hope you join in lots more in the future!
    Aurora x

  5. Swirling fire

    Thank you so much for taking the time to read and post 💋🍷
    It’s my second ever pic

  6. Violet

    Beautiful! Makes me think of a racy New Year’s Eve outfit!

  7. Fabulous, a little bit of mystery a little bit of revelation – perfect!

  8. Very sexy, mysterious and a bit festive feeling as well.

  9. Oh my Swirly, you look tremendous in that outfit and gorgeously sexy.

  10. Swirling fire

    Thank you for the lovely comments

  11. Swirling fire

    Thank you very much

  12. I LOVE that outfit

    Mollyx

  13. Quite a dazzling outfit . . . and I love the gloves!!!
    Xxx – K

  14. Lovely!

    Rebel xox

  15. Beautiful!

  16. Oh my! Gorgeous!

The Scent of Fear

SwirlingFire: The First Scent of Fear

 Editor’s Note:  I’ve been hosting posts from SwirlingFire for about 6 weeks now and not since that first introduction have I added words around what she’s written.  When I saw the draft of this post I knew I would have to add something.

Reading it brought out all sorts of emotions in me that I rather assumed I was inured to in the written word.  That told me that this post requires a majorWARNING

It is one of the bravest pieces of writing I have ever come across.  More forceful because it’s not a blow by blow account.  I encourage people to read this, especially males who resort to “Not All Men” to absolve themselves and ignore the uncomfortable truths.

CONTENT WARNING

TRIGGER WARNING

  • Non-consensual
  • Sexual Assault
  • Physical Assault
  • Verbal Assault
  • Gaslighting
  • Manipulation
  • Coercion
  • Red Mist

 


 

SwirlingFire

Scent of Fear

“Was there ever a time you were scared of me ?” he asked

“no Daddy.”  Was my reply.  It was true.  It wasn’t one time.  There were three very distinct occasions.  Twice the first time he took me to his home.

The first time:

I was in a rural area.  No network signal.  No Wi-Fi.  No way of phoning a taxi for the train station to get me as far away from him as possible.  I was trapped.  He had already encouraged me to make my “safe Phone calls / contacts”.  I emailed a friend with his specific identity, where he lived etc from the ladies toilet in the pub with their strong WiFi signal.  This is when I made my safe voice calls and texts

It was after the safe calls when everything changed. I was frozen to the spot.

I couldn’t run away.

Captive.

So I had to make the decision.

How can I best get through the time with him with the least amount of physical injury ?

He’d already screamed and shouted at me when I was startled at his hand being shoved up my skirt and plunging his rough fingers deeply inside me.

I didn’t object to the act itself – just the timing that caught me off guard.  I was told he would clearly outline how the time together would be.  Certainly not a minute by minute agenda.  Simply a range of what I was likely to experience.  It wouldn’t matter if the acts didn’t occur in a certain or particular order,  if at all,  just some form of expectations.

I’d been devoid of consensual  male touch for many years.

Startled, I lightly touched his hand and caressed his arm, asking him to slow down.  He took it as blanket refusal and rejection.  It was neither of my intentions.  It was a mis-communication not a flat NO.  My first time in intimate company with a man .. he even knew why I’d been single for some time.  He’d even asked earlier if my last contact with a man had been an assault.  He appeared to care.  Up to and including everything to the moment I was about to enter.  All methods of communication had been kind, funny, flirty, deep and meaningful life experiences.  My daft humour defences, my total naivete of anything kink related.  We really had covered highs and lows of life and lovers.

The touch on his hand, the scent of my fear in his nostrils.  His angry arousal to my reaction appeared to be the catalyst that unleashed his red wild eyes, flushed face and throbbing neck veins setting his temper free – especially for me.  He screamed at me “if you’re going to cry rape then there’s no point in any of this! I’ll turn round and take you back to the train station and leave you there!”

I was rigid with fear.

Marilyn-01

I didn’t cry.  I was shocked.

After years of abstinence from dating – here I was – back into the fiery pit of Hell.

I’d found yet another abusive man !  I’d confided my concerns of a casual encounter and was assured CONSENT AND RESPECT are so very important to him.  He is quite militant on social media regarding boundaries.  Consent.  Respect.  Two way communication.

He tricked me.  It only applied to other women.  He showed that he didn’t care.

He just proved he did not have any respect for me.

I felt as though, yet again, I was a stupid fool.  My arrangement with him was fatally flawed.  I had no backup plan to escape.

I was his prey.

He toyed with my beliefs and boundaries.

He didn’t care.

He never would.

 

Swirlingfire: A history

@Swirlingfire, 3 November 2018

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Friendships

SwirlingFire: Friendships

SwirlingFire

Friendships

Do friendships have a season ?

I’ve been reflecting upon the last twelve months.

October 2017 was not a good one.

Disappointments, several cancellations of birthday plans and consequent loss of work and income, lies and deceit.  Realisations of deep rooted memories returning and #Motherships diagnosis of cognitive impairment.

I was totally overwhelmed without anyone to confide in.

Therapy was at its roughest darkest point for me.

Maybe it was no different to any other October I’ve endured ?

Perhaps as all my protective reflexes have been exposed I’m more aware of them now ?

Today as I left the house I had the strongest auto response to text my whereabouts and plan for the afternoon.  To a certain someone. *

Little rituals that I loved.

The thoughts that someone cared about me.

Of course it was a bigger mirage and fantasyland than any casualties recounting hairy moments of survival measures and rescue similar to those in  Bear Grylls and Ray Mears documentaries.

It made me quite sad.  Not because I’d been systematically mentally seduced but because he told me several times I should always count on him as a “friend”.

How we believe a friend should be is not their interpretation of what is made available.

There are many types of friendships.  Some merely passing acquaintances that we have good rapport with for a few hours whenever paths cross.  Other types are situational, work/travel/holiday destination etc…..  All transient moments and enjoyed for what they bring at the time.  Neither party expecting anything more than casual exchange for the duration of that moment.

Friendships

I’m due to start Uni next week.  It’s a mini “introduction to Psychology” – a chance to explore a new degree before fully committing to a conditional acceptance in January 2019.  I’ve always been interested in other people.  I do enjoy people watching.  Possibly a bit nosey, but I’m genuinely curious as to what makes people really tick.  Not the pretty package on show.

Only by looking under the hood’ of others I now realise it’s really a deeper desire to learn about me as I’ve always been the common denominator in attracting a certain type of person.  I won’t list personality types, we all know what we personally find acceptable from those that claim to care or those that want to be an important part of our lives.

Whilst a year of therapy wasn’t nearly enough to deal with decades of numbness, denial, betrayal and multiple unconnected non familial assaults, it did give me the basic tools to recognise myself starting to mimic old patterns.  Whilst writing this piece a beautiful comment following my last blog post arrived and reduced me to tears.

In a world of anger, injustice and the decimation of human values and brutal loss of innocent lives, we must learn to find ‘our happy’ on the inside first.

We shouldn’t expect others to be kind, caring, supportive and loving.  Not until we are rounded individuals can we truly be ourselves and find genuine care friendships and strength in others ?

My friendships in real life are currently non existent.  I have acquaintances.  For this I only have myself to blame.  I never developed life tools to freely trust without question.  I’ve not allowed myself to grow into the mature adult I was destined to be.

Nature/nurture debates will continue.  The social media armchair therapists will try their best to understand what I’m trying to explore/articulate into common understanding.  The eye rollers will continue to judge me without asking for clarity or understanding.  I’m learning not to bite and direct my anger where it’s neither necessary nor fruitful.

My experiences have always been learnt at the violent hands and minds of others.

Was that my fault for not recognising all the red flags or was it the clever minds of tricksters and defilers who recognised and steered my reactions and manipulated accordingly.


 

October 2018 is drawing to a close for me in a mentally healthier state than October 2017 left me.  My lowest acknowledged point.

I will continue to question everything.

And then try not to doubt myself so much for attempting to explain my gut feelings away for not giving someone a fair chance.

My main friendships have been found through my anonymity using Twitter.  I’ve been brutally authentic to the point of being totally misunderstood and (unfairly) treated after initial ‘friendliness’ turned sour dependant upon my poor phrasing and possibly lack of their emotional intelligence and empathetic understanding of my ‘back story’.

Whilst social media is not addressing all my needs it’s currently my guiding light to develop healthy friendships.

I’d like to take this opportunity to humbly thank those who have had patience, understanding and held my hand throughout my ‘emotional roller coaster of discovery in Hell’

Much love

Swirly

* I found the strength. It was difficult. I didn’t text

Swirlingfire: A history

@Swirlingfire, 30 October 2018

 

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  1. Those are beautiful, honest, open words – the kind of words I long to hear from someone but never ever do because we all protect ourselves behind that mask. It’s ironic that the most beautiful, gentle and vulnerable part of us is permanently hidden as itsi too precious to risk getting hurt. I have many aquaintances, I look ok on the outside, but no one knows what’s underneath. I yearn to meet someone special, but suspect I ever will
    Best wishes, I hope you find that person 🙏

    • Thankyou for your thoughts Nigel.
      It’s a sad world with many of feeling the same way.
      I’m not currently looking for a partner.
      I’m learning to be my own best friend right now.
      I doubt I Would ever trust again.
      I do hope you find comfort and warmth soon
      Best wishes
      Swirly 🌻

Swirling Reflections

SwirlingFire: Swirling Reflections

SwirlingFire

Swirling Reflections

Sitting up in bed with a cuppa.

Awake for hours.

I set the alarm for a day I’m not working.  Plus the clocks went back an hour (GMT), so a 5.30am rude awakening.

Feeling the grip at my throat;

It’s not the physical hand of another.

It’s the mental vice that held me “in my place” for so long.

Willing tears back.

Knowing if I set them free it’s as though I’m accepting defeat.

Attempting once again to pretend to be fine.

Accepting everything in my past and learning to balance what I caused to happen,  how I allowed the occurrences, why I didn’t manage to stop things sooner.

After decades of silence the last 12 months of discovery of reality, unprecedented deception and new emotional / physical abuse.   Learning to use my voice, only to then have it stamped on (both on Twitter and in real life);

MonroeUnderstanding that all my personality flaws and defects were subconsciously created and expertly delivered to hold people away.

Avoiding intimacy.

Denying love.

Tears well up & start to roll.

No sound.

I’d learnt to internalise emotion to remain under the radar.

The disadvantages to this clever little trick is that everyone thinks I’m incredibly strong. I don’t need anyone or anything.  I’m the “go to” person for help/support/problem solving.

Whilst the whole time the deepest core of my being is screaming silently to be held.

To feel safe.

To trust someone again.

Trust Anyone.

I have the shoes to walk forwards.

I’m just sad I’m doing it alone.

 

Swirlingfire: A history

@Swirlingfire, 28 October 2018

 

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  1. You always seem to me as someone who it would be a great pleasure to know and to read of your suffering is very sad. I love your sense of humour, your photographs, the way you care for your mother and much more besides.

    • Dear CP…
      Your beautifull sentiments have brought tears to my eyes.
      I don’t see myself that way at all.
      It’s pleasing to know some people now see through broken veneers of varnish to the inside xx

  2. These are always tough times when your sub-conscious gets out all it’s nastiest little ‘toys’ to play a tormenting game with you. Going over old ground and putting the worst spin on it, mind game 101.

    You are stronger than you think, although I don’t doubt that you’re often putting on an act, for survival purposes. You are growing, you are shrugging this off a little at a time. Sharing is good.

    • I always have more questions than I have sufficient answers. I’m still self censoring. I’m still quite confused recalling / retrieving (?) Memories…. we’re our own worst critics aren’t we?
      Thank you for taking the time to read and also respond. Your feedback shoves me forward a little more each time. I’m very grateful for your kind d thought….. Swirly x

Fortitude

SwirlingFire: Fortitude

Content Warning: mild references to sexual/mental abuse

SwirlingFire

Fortitude

noun: bravery when dealing with pain or difficulty, esp. over a long period

“… I must admit, I find your fortitude in this roller coaster mind boggling……. ”

October

It’s always been a month of mixed emotions.

As a child it trawls up  memories of birthday parties and blowing out candles on a cake.

Family and kindergarten pals

Chatter laughter and snapshots in old dog eared wallets with the negatives in their little pocket.

In teen years it was inviting school friends to house parties and overhearing mean comments whilst they had a free feed and consumed all the drink before leaving very early with better places to go.

In my twenties and it was cocktail fuelled arrangements after work where barely a handful of people would bother to turn up.

And so I stopped arranging birthday celebrations of any type. If people wanted to mark my birthday I’d let them arrange everything.  All of it.  They would be left with the embarrassment of people not showing up or flaking out last minute.  It stopped bothering me years ago.  I mean, yes it does hurt.  The people that claim to care/like you really don’t.

I was obviously not a person worth making friends with.  The thoughts of never being good enough had never really left.  I always got treated the way I deserved.  Whatever the reasons, people I asked would shift uncomfortably in their seats and would refuse to answer.  Bullied throughout school and varying workplaces, even though I could not think of any specific event or comment to the person in front of me…. I’d ask

“Specifically, what did I do to you?”

“What did XYZ person say the reason for that behaviour to me spawned that?”

I brought out the cruellest nastiest unfriendly responses attitudes and behaviours of people I came into contact with.  I was damaged, defective and heartbroken.  Still never understanding why I was the target for abuse.

FortitudeNever worth the effort, I stopped asking.  They Only used me for “friendship” when there were times of deep difficulties.  Never available when I asked for help.  Only wanted me for my independence of strength and self sufficiency as the outsider or the weird misfit who was brilliant at problem solving and identifying solutions for people, both private and work based.  Yet still I spent my evenings and weekends alone.

I don’t know what it is about me that displeases them so.  I learnt from a very young age to be a “people pleaser” – out of necessity of survival growing up in a volatile “shouty” household.

So one learns to build convoluted layers of protection. These would range from basic polite distance, sometimes avoidance of certain people/colleagues;  pulling up caged metal style shutters.  I allow glimpses but there will be no physical contact – a free flow conversation but basically I’m protected from grabby hands;  Then the more extreme method of excusing oneself from an enlarging group whilst socialising; only talking if someone else initiated conversations.  I was silent.  A lot.  These were the granite walls that had been constructed over decades of unwarranted hurt, betrayal and emotional endangerment.

And this was how I managed to navigate through life for more years than I bear to remember.

Swirlingfire: A history

Empty inside …. A very Carefully constructed shell.  So fragile and likely to shatter into millions of pieces when I was ready to let someone back into my life …  Someone that would be put through repeated obstacles and tests to check if they were worthy of my initial friendship and thoughts.  Unbeknown to myself I was being emotionally abused over a period of years.  These are blog posts for another time – if ever.  It’s all so very raw.

It’s from this point that the above initial quoted comment derives.

My fortitude is the culmination of decades of disappointment, unsettled  life as a toddler, learning to be self sufficient for my own emotional needs and physical safety;  cutting people brutally out of my ever decreasing  circle of trust;  avoidance of intimacy/ relationships with men to reduce risk of date/rape that I brought on myself….

I was the common denominator.

 

This month has been more brutal than previous years.

I can’t even begin to detail as I’m sure readers will roll their eyes and think “well that never happened” ….. and quite honestly, it’s taking time to process for myself.

Another betrayal.  One that breaches basic human decency and unfathomable disregard from someone that promised to protect ones physical and emotional safety. …..

For that last sentence?  I roll my eyes – that never happened!

 

@Swirlingfire, 25 October 2018

 

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  1. it Really saddened me. To hear how badly you have been treated by mean nasty people. All I can say is there are some good people in the world and I hope you meet some. 😞💕

    • melody acting as a proxy.

      SwirlingFire’s reply:

      Dear Moonraker,
      Thank you for taking the time to read and reply.
      It’s greatly appreciated.
      I wish these weren’t my experiences. Sadly they are. Albeit sanitised & specifics removed.
      I try my best to give others the benefit of doubt to be kind.
      It’s a rare commodity.
      I still have a few shavings of hope remaining.

Sink or swim

SwirlingFire: Sink or Swim

Content Warning: mild references to sexual/mental abuse

SwirlingFire

Sink Or Swim

Today someone posed the theory

“….. The reality is that most of the time is spent treading water……..?”

The statement passed me by me yet started to swirl around inside my thoughts for a few hours.

It made me realise that I’ve never trodden water – in the real sense.  I can’t even swim let alone tread water.  I now remember an act of PE teacher irritation, pushing me into the deep end of the school pool without warning, ever since that moment, I cannot bear getting my face wet.  Even a daily shower takes careful angling of the shower spray head..

Do we really tread water in life following the actions of others ?

Whether unable to fight back or remove ourselves from incidents for a multitude of reasons, for self protection or because we find ourselves in one mess after another as we’re unable to recognise potential shifts from calm to danger?

I’ve found myself in both scenarios.  Pre-teen was familial.  Post teen was always attracting the wrong man.  Over and over again and not aware of how to break the cycle.

For me it was not a case of treading water.  Maybe it’s been a sink or swim scenario ? Eyes wide open and stinging as one event pushed me sideways into another.  I was never aware of making bad choices.  I only recognised that the consequences were dangerous for me.  I didn’t understand why peers successfully dated and were showered with gifts and loving kindness leading to marriage and babies.  Why was that life path and choice denied to me ??

I attracted men that used and raped me.  Always hoping that one day the tides would turn in my favour.  They never have.  Every time I would retreat further into my own shell (SwirlingFire: Reality Kicks In). Another fabulous personality trait to hide behind.  Pushing outsiders further away. That’s how it seemed to me.  Them vs Me.

The storm raged on decade after decade.  After a long hiatus from dating, each tentative toe dipped back into water generated the same response.  Every single time !  I must have been a beacon signalling to abusers and rapists “come get me!  I’m Next

Swirly-02

 

I eventually shut down.  I’m not, even to this day, able to pinpoint exactly where I made the choice to ever prevent the likelihood of it happening again.  I know I did.  I recall some outwardly appearing great guys that I shut down their romantic interest.  I now wonder ‘what if…’

I didn’t have the capacity to even try anymore.  I was exhausted from reaching for another safe clanging life buoy, only to find, as before, that would disintegrate once my trust was gained and repeatedly abused.

Wishing and hoping for dry land that would shelter me for a while.  It never did

I only ever found myself cast upon jagged life rocks whilst the lighthouse beam mocked me on every rotation.

I was drowning in my own crazy life bubble.

 

@Swirlingfire, 10 October 2018

 

Reality kicks in

SwirlingFire: Reality Kicks In

SwirlingFire

Reality kicks in

When the bile rises from your gut to your throat
Chest tightens as one tries to catch their breath.
An alternating cold hot sweat that prickles up the back of one’s neck;
Gripped both by loathing and a furious passion.

The no contact continues
Its tough the first few days and weeks. Then it begins to ease.
The day passes more gently with fewer invasive thoughts.
The nights are difficult.
Endless empty hours stretching before you.
Trying to get comfy against the piles of pillows.
Then it hits you
A thought
A Saying
A quote
Or although you’ve muted, blocked and deactivated everywhere you remember,
Something slips through and smashes the tiny boundary of calm neatly building about / around yourself.
Protection, not hiding this time.

Boom
Something so personal
A picture once exchanged sent to another.
Familiar words exchanged to someone new.

And there it is

A punch in the guts.

The collar.
Around someone else’s neck

A promise broken
The greatest betrayal of trust respect care and kindness.

Smashed to pieces
All or nothing.

I was nothing

@SwirlingFire 9 October 2018

Empty on the inside

SwirlingFire: Empty On The Inside …

SwirlingFire

“The unexamined life is not worth living…….” – Socrates, at his trial.

I’m not a classics scholar nor claiming to be adroit in ancient philosophy texts.  This phrase popped into my head after a non alcoholic long lunch with someone that I once thought of as a very good friend.  We’re no longer as close as we once were.  Correction – We’re not the close friends I thought we were.  Several things occurred this time last year.  It showed a side to this person that not only surprised me, it shook me to the core of how cold, callous, thoughtless and selfish they were behaving.  The Friend hurt me so deeply.  It was the start of a personal downward spiral that chewed me up, for many months to follow and finally spat me out like an unwanted rag doll on Christmas Day 2017.

Therapy/counselling was tearing down walls inside my neat almost empty brain and forcing me to confront the darkest moments of my life experiences that I’d successfully managed to lock away.

The memories hadn’t ceased it’s purge, almost a year on, memories are revealing their existence like thunder claps.  A glimpse but not fully tangible.  I had been forced to acknowledge their existence.

I honestly had no recollection of many of them.

I genuinely had created a life for myself without all the great and good things one would usually take for granted.  I’d taught myself all kinds of (unknown at that time) weird coping strategies that had placed me safely out of the grasp of life.

Whilst to anyone looking on I appeared to ‘Have it all’ – a career, a great salary, friends with well known local ‘celebrities’ and ‘business influencers/owners.  A great standard of living and disposable income to do with as I pleased whenever I chose.  A stylish wardrobe, expensive shoes and several luxury holidays each year.

I had managed to create a brilliant shell around myself.

The irony was, I had become empty on the inside.

I faked joy and happiness so well for such a long time I fooled myself with self delusion.

It was the way of life I had ‘chosen, for myself.  Avoiding becoming caught up in real life with people was only going to end badly.  It always had in the past.  So I learnt how to be fabulous without letting anybody get to know me.  I only shared a smidgen of me that would be socially acceptable.  I would attend events every now and again to maintain a façade and not isolate myself totally.

I had learnt how to keep work and my private life very separate.  So separate that my private life was a mirage.  Looked great from a distance but if anyone could have scrutinised me too closely they would have learnt my secrets, fears and the truth.  I didn’t have a life outside work. I wasn’t particularly sociable.  I had no private or love life.  I had completely shutdown.

Swirly-01I’d stopped growing into the Adult I was destined to become.  I’d found a way to stop the world.  I was no longer growing on the merry go round of life.  Withdrawing from life.  My younger days I’d learnt that trying to fit in with my peers only led to heartbreak, disappointment and injury.  So why continue ?

What’s that phrase ?  Something about madness is repeating the same thing and expecting a different outcome ??  Well hell Girl!  Don’t do any of it!!
No more hurt.  No more pain, I’d found my own silly solution.

I’d stopped investing in myself.  I was a falling stock and the shareholder was selling out for the best deal.

To prevent future pain and hurt occurring in future one must learn to recognise danger and avoid it when it looms closer.  Right ?

I had successfully managed to stop living.

I had unknowingly learnt how to merely exist.

@swirlingfire. 3 October 2018

 

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  1. I am very invested to hear ‘the other shoe fall’ because this sad state of affairs is surely coming to some kind of pinnacle or collapse (I suspect the latter). You paint yourself very starkly – as I understand it, you did not realise your life was a brittle veneer, but surely you felt lonely? Or did you keep your head down and yourself blinkered with work and keeping out of trouble so you did not even acknowledge that? I feel sad that you got to this stage.

    On the up-side, the fact that you are writing this now, and so balanced and lucidly, I must conclude you have come out of the other side – and are now in the daylight again, giving yourself time to smell the roses! Hurrah for that.
    (thank you for sharing)

Who am I? Who are you?!

SwirlingFire: Who am I ? Who are YOU ?

SwirlingFire

Who am I …?

Who are YOU …?

@SwirlingFire

How we describe ourselves is not the way others see us.

Forget the outside package. That’s not who we are.  That’s what we look like.

That’s a big problem for me.  Many of us make snap decisions based on external/visible traits.  We rarely see the true depth of someone’s character, the real essence, the good bits.  Those Pieces we hide to protect ourselves from the hurt and harm thrown at us through life.  Keeping our vulnerability away from prying eyes and those that would take advantage given the opportunity.

This is a big Disadvantage of social media anonymous accounts.  We can be whomever we choose.  We can big ourselves up.  We can hide our success and achievements or make up a whole career of expertise.  We could however, make a whole new online only life.  Whilst for some of us, hiding our face is not to deceive, it’s the freedom to deposit information without fear of reprisals in real life.  Unfortunately, there are those that choose to focus on what’s not said rather than what is visibly typed/posted/tweeted.

Social media sometimes falls massively short of being “social”.  We don’t have intonation, pitch, timbre and playful inflection.  I’ve fallen foul of this many times.

More often than not lately I type something then backspace/delete.  Words have been taken out of context or misinterpreted to tell me what I meant

Sometimes I’m not as articulate writing short tweets as I can be with a written piece such as this,  or how different the intended inflection with face to face speech patterns.  Facial expression is lost.  Of course the flip side is that I don’t fall into the category or pigeon hole of where someone else wants me to fit.  We like everything easy and comfortable. We like our views to be understood; just as  someone else’s..  We like to find our fit with others.  We don’t want someone pushing us out of our comfort zone and highlighting our differences.  We want to fully integrate with peers and be accepted for our presence, essence and qualities. We want you to be like us. Whomever US is?  I’ve been known to be challenging and provocative at times.  It suits me to “push the envelope” and learn their truth.  Examining boundaries to hear others tell the truth is a difficult knife edge to walk.

Demons-Sarah_Boswell

Mostly people appear to be honest.  I always try to believe.  My gut kicks in and I will push and push with different questioning styles until I hear what seems authentic.  More often in the past I have ruthlessly cut people from my life. (Proven liars/manipulators/users/fakes)

I don’t expect full disclosure at day one, in the same way I wouldn’t purge my experiences to the person on the bus, but I do expect a modicum of genuine exchange.  The common decency of courtesy and respect you’d expect face to face or from a shop assistant/in public settings and locations.

Social media allows us to disregard someone’s presence.

Silent treatment. A powerful form of mental abuse/narcissist behaviour!  Gaslighting to friends.  If you wouldn’t behave that way in real life then why do it online?

My past character flaws?  Apparently I’m intimidating, too direct, won’t suffer fools, unforgiving and strongly controlling of workplace guidelines.  I’m told I’m a strong character with high standards in the work place and passionately professional.  These ways have been to protect myself rather than to be sneaky and construct a totally fake version of myself.   An acceptable face forward, very much a dilution of my real self but not my character.  My private life / work life do not cross over.

However, when I’m “on form /having a good day” I’m described as being a “breath of fresh air” upon entering a room, I have presence and an air of authority … it’s funny to me, as at times I’m mistaken for senior management in places I’m not a permanent team member.  A quiet air of control.  It feels good to belong for a millisecond.

Whilst I’ve hidden behind layers of protection for years (see my first blog post), I’ve developed a plethora of responses for all the usual questions.  I can still be 100% honest and tell truthful anecdotes and make amusing self effacing comments.  I’m not a liar.  My memory recall is not polished enough to  accomplish easy deceit and daily manipulation of the truth.

I’m not a liar in the accepted definition of the word.  I’m probably doing myself a disservice by keeping people at arms length until I’m ready to talk – really talk.

My questioning techniques are from years of specific training and experience in my field.  This is something I must refrain from or reign in, remember to ease back. Especially on social media.  A playful “push” face to face is sometimes massively miscommunicated when that same technique is used in writing.  This is 98% due to my inability to trust explanations/people at face value anymore.

Life has been cruel at times.

For a very long time I thought it was my fault.
I thought I was to blame for incidents that occurred more often than they really should.
I was the common denominator.
It was my responsibility.

This is all conjecture for another post however, it gives the background of how my extremely critical inner voice has punished me for far too long and why I react when regular people (untainted by my experiences with others) can brush actions/comments away.

I find it really difficult to process if they’re having a bad day or did I really deserve to be treated/spoken to in that manner or are they, as is most often the case, insensitive or selfish and rude with no interest of the impact of their words?  Provided they get their own way anyone else’s views are irrelevant?. Whatever the cost to someone else.

No understanding of how they would feel if someone mirrored the exact actions and flung them back?

A case of I can do as I want but don’t you dare ask/challenge me?

And this is the uglier dark underbelly of Twitter et al…..

We behave the way we want to because we can. We can be decent stand up guys and support, encourage and be friendly or we can be angry bitter masked fakes, unhappy individuals that spew insults and comments about situations where we don’t have any background information of or never had a good conversation with that person to fully understand.  It’s all too easy to make accusations or what you thought somebody else was saying.  Instead of quietly chatting through the post or miscommunication, we can block and move on.  It’s the “fingers in my ears I can’t hear you” brigade.  Then we tell our buddies how awful so and so is and we must block them or ignore the replies or mute/silence them ?

Social media can be a blessing for those of us that are lonely and have become isolated from living.  It’s where we can come to escape the real life serious issues of day to day struggles.  Used for the benefit of learning to integrate with society again, to learn new ways to converse, it’s an invaluable lifeline.

We will all continue to make mistakes or misunderstand one another.  It’s a natural human state.

The difference is how one manages the outcome.  To learn from it and adjust our behaviours/outlook or plough on in a stubborn state that you’re the Captain of your own White Star Liner.

In the wrong hands, social media is a powerfully dangerous tool.

Choose your weapons and words carefully.

@SwirlingFire, 26 sept 2018

 

Who does she think she is? Meet Swirling Fire

A Guest Writer – Meet Swirlingfire

I had my start in blogging as a result of a very unexpected and flattering approach to write a guest post on another blog.  Now it’s my turn to offer a space to another person.

I’ve only known her for a few weeks.  She’s complex, witty and dealing with the curve balls that life throws at us.  I’m flattered that she decided she could trust me when trust is a commodity in short supply.  What is particularly interesting to me is that over the years I have known and talked to plenty of dommes and male subs.  I haven’t talked in depth with female subs.  We have a lot more in common than I ever suspected.

This space is here so she can express herself in her own words and reveal as much or as little as she is comfortable with.  Apart from formatting there’s no re-writing from me.

I remember my panic waiting for my first revealing post to go public.  Be gentle.

Here is the first post from @swirlingfire


 

Who does she think she is …… ?

 

SwirlingFire

I’m not the biggest fan of all the Fuck stories.  Mostly because I can’t relate to them in terms of as yet unexplored kink/bdsm themes/scenes …… I guess I’m not currently in the correct healing or head space to indulge fantasies or desires/wants/needs whilst devoid of a supportive RL partner ??

I was recently approached by a lovely lady to contribute to a “question and answer” piece as part of a short story blog site.  I’ve never “been a blogger” although I have “been writing” for four or five years.  First showing, by fluke or timing, shown to a third person and later published.

I have experience writing erotica.  I’ve simply never shared it as part of a twitterblog.  It was written for a man in my past and it was private.

Initially, as almost always, I was mistrusting of this person/request as it was an unsolicited request from a new follower without any exchange between us….

(I have major trust issues with EVERYONE until I chat with them a little while – for good reason, it’s not meant to be personally offensive but it’s a quality about myself I try to control.  It’s a balancing act when more often than not I’m proved correct over and over again.  My gut reactions are returning and it’s caught me by surprise the last few weeks. )

It’s easy to hide my thoughts but the flywheel starts whizzing even faster with a myriad of questions inside my head ……. after a tiny bit of well placed and trusted research, I realised it was part of an extensive respected blog …..

It’s a definite maybe ……

I do like to read about kinks in general, not necessarily the sloppy sticky squirmy loving caring sharing bits…. they are good too.. ..  though not what currently piques my current swirling thoughts and how I’m learning to process those machinations …. However… I’m currently thirsty for accurate knowledge/guidance and community support.  Not support freely offered then in return receiving judgemental dismissive and incorrectly attributed exchange.

Its quite simple, because for me I prefer what’s going on inside someone’s mind and the drivers behind it that have steered a person to that “activity” than photos of actual genital involvement…. this is noticeable far more frequently…. makes me at odds with Twitter…… I enjoy the long, slow, patiently waiting, calm and self controlled obedience of an extended experience over hours, days or weeks. ….. why do certain submissive acts give more pleasure than penetrative activity ?……

Why does the stinging bite of a Cane or Belt feel like permission to cry an uncontrollable river of tears for as long as I need within the care of a designated space/time frame become more preferable to tears I’m capable of shedding alone?

My own self control and behaviours over the decades have become a clever foil, another protective yet invisible fine screen, it’s meshed itself around me like an invisibility cloak.

I can move from private mode to high profile business events. Barely skipping a heart beat beneath carefully constructed shields of protection.  Charming the birds from the trees, achieving and exceeding corporate targets/goals and exuding the confidence and calm poise akin to gliding like a swan on a mill pond.

The Submissive in me thrived and craved service/giving/his pleasure rather than being rewarded with orgasm etc……

I guess that’s how I was manipulated/played/coerced for so long …… ?

Currently I’m very confused as to whether that “was” my craving or whether that’s what was “planted” into my conditioning?

Who was i really?
Was i the real me before I met him?
Who was i when we spent time together
Who am I now?
Who will I be next year?

@SwirlingFire 23 September 2018

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  1. Pingback: SwirlingFire: Who am I ? Who are YOU ? – Insights and Ramblings of melody
  2. O goodness! I loved finding out more about the enigmatic Swirling Fire! I do hope we get to see more glimpses of this fascinating journey as she gets to know herself and understand her desires and motivations.
    I feel pleased that I have sparked this step towards sharing in her, (and hey – she said my blog was respected! I’ll take that!) Thanks so much for sharing with use Swirly and I hope you feel able to do it more often!