Not Surprising

Interestingly, I find that there seems to be a direct correlation between the popularity of a blog and the sharing, or opening up, of other areas of the blogger's life. What I mean is that the more the blogger reveals about the interaction among those persons in his/her life, the more that blog is seen as interesting. The more personal information that is offered, the more favored the on-line journal. It seem obvious that these glimpses into the real lives of others is a bit like watching a soap opera or a serial movie. One can't wait to find out what happens next.

It needs to be said right now that there is no denying the courage, honesty and sincerity of those bloggers who choose to open their lives for viewing by others. And, we, the on lookers, should be, at the very least, respectful of the thoughts, fears and concerns of those writers. Yes, we all can relate to some of the stresses and anxieties expressed, or can we? Too often I find that there are those who troll the so called titillating blogs to judge, criticize and snipe.

It seems that the more detailed the life and loves of a journalist, the bigger the target for blame and denunciation by those anonymous souls who have a need to set others straight on what they should do and how they should live their lives. On the other hand, those bloggers who confine their entries to fucking and sucking, licking and hitting, slapping and wrapping, beating and bruising, are pretty much left alone. I mean what can be said? Where is the soft spot that can be examined and poked by those who delight in such things? Where is the pleasure in attacking those who offer such a very small target, who expose so little of themselves to public scrutiny?

To those brave bloggers who choose to disclose the very private, very personal, parts of their lives, I salute your honesty and your tenacity.

The Need To Be Needed

I think that the desire to serve has always been an intrinsic part of me. When I was married, and being anything other than vanilla wasn't an option, I prided myself on being a helpmate, a partner, a loyal and dedicated spouse. Defining myself in those terms gave me immense pleasure. Not knowing then that I have what some have determined to be a "slave heart."

Since being with Master, I have found out that what I am has nothing to do with any other person. It has nothing to do with what He does or doesn't do with me. In other words, It's all about me. It's about my need to be available to serve in whatever capacity that is required by my significant other, whether husband or Master.

Unlike my husband, who was wired differently, Master knew. He always knew what I am. Although it was hard to admit to myself at first, I have come to acknowledge that I am a slave, yes, a voluntary slave, but a slave none the less. He knew I needed more than the periodic visits, the occasional scene, the fantasy of domination and submission. I must be of service to Master, providing whatever services please Him. In essence, I need slavehood as the focus of my life. Thankfully, He is willing to give me that. So far, I'm still learning and growing in my chosen path.

Once I asked Master what would happen to me if he were, for any reason, no longer available for me to serve. He didn't say that I probably would be alone, or that I would find another partner or get married again. He succinctly said, "You'd find another Master."