I’m shy like a butterfly.

I feel like going back into my warm, pre-enlightened cocoon. Sharing feels like I’m as vulnerable as a newborn fawn, spindly legs trembling, the instinct to duck for cover behind my mother’s flank so, so strong.

We continue to cuddle and I continue to open up to more of my own familiar pain, cauterized to my veins so long ago. My dreams haunt me of boundaries destroyed, my voice never heard by those whom should have been listening most closely. Tiny, yet urgent cries lost in the bellowing hot air of those wrapped up in their own hurts and insecurities.

I’m striding forward less afraid than ever before. I’ve never owned him. He may leave at any moment. This is a notion as old as fire and it burns as brightly and blisters the same.

Declarations of love and commitment don’t prevent bereavement in the end anyway. We are all free to morph into new incarnations, to flee and flutter towards the next patch of wildflowers, to flit and flounder.

So for now, I will only share with you Me, not Him and not Us. I have more work to do first.

I love you all. And I’m still here.

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A 40-something single mother who writes honestly about sex, body image, D/s, relationships, her nervous tics, and how much she loves to fucking fuck. She also likes to show you her tits.

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31 thoughts on “I’m shy like a butterfly.
  1. I would adore to hold u close to me. Just touch you gently, caress your beautiful body, run my fingers through your hair and across your face. Id love to just hang out and get to know u. And i’d really like to kiss u

  2. Ahh being visible and in the moment can be so life altering. Such a difficult undertaking when we are older and have been hiding the past for so long. As freeing as it is it is also painful and makes it difficult to be vulnerable again. Been there done that wrote that book and still filling in chapters. Gorgeous photo

  3. After being away a few days, what a pleasure to find this post on my return. You are always a beautiful lady, inside and out….. Make an old gent dream… Thanks for being here and sharing.

  4. “My dreams haunt me of boundaries destroyed, my voice never heard by those whom should have been listening most closely. Tiny, yet urgent cries lost in the bellowing hot air of those wrapped up in their own hurts and insecurities.”

    Your writing, this writing, drives to my core. Wow.

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