Taking the red pill.

It starts with embracing everything.

I started with a quarter-pill in September 2018 and bumped it up to about a half a pill during all of 2019.  Dating had lost its luster, men their intrigue, my pain tolerance its infinite depths.  I was beginning to feel my edges, my limits.  Betraying my basic needs to feel seen, heard, and valuable was no longer the course de rigueur, it had become to feel more like the affront to my soul that it was.  Then Covid struck the world and rocked my little chaotic, hurting life – and it was the biggest, fattest, juiciest red pill I’ve ever swallowed in my life.

It was also delicious.

I am free of injuries on insults, free of ignoring my inner voice, free of obligation.  I have stepped into a sense of myself I have longed for for decades.  Interactions with my ex-husband are opportunities to stand in my own righteous strength, my boundaries with my mother are better drawn, my equation related to the world and my energy crystal clear: nothing and no one is greater or more important than my own well-being.  Not even my own inertia to destroy myself.

I haven’t been writing because this space originated out of a need to explore and devour and tell the world about it.  I’m on the other side of all that consumption and am feeling contemplative and supremely private.  I also haven’t been fucking around all that much, so what’s to tell?  How every day is like Groundhog’s Day?  Work, animals, child, parents.  Repeat repeat repeat motherfucking repeat.

I guess I could have been writing about my dating app experiences.  I’ve had a handful of little dalliances in my pocket.   They’d burn bright with dicks and tits being slung across the ether at break neck speeds then the realities of Covid and comfort levels would crash into us and we’d limp away into the dark corners of our phones never to speak again.

The last time I wrote I was hopeful I was curating something fun and light.  I put far too much faith into one so ridiculously young, but oh! how I wanted to believe in the bravado of this young 22 yo man!  It puttered out as pitifully as you might imagine.  Then there was the 30 yo lawyer whose drinking could have drowned a fish.  His open and affectionate manner reminded me of The Golfer in some ways and our texting and sexting was delightful for 6 full weeks.  And then he stood me up one Saturday and I ended things on Sunday.  No wiggle room, no doubts.  I will never, ever continue to see anyone – man or woman – who wastes my time like that.

I entertained the idea that something had “happened to him” for about .3 seconds that Saturday evening when I realized he’d gone MIA.  The only reason I waited to tie things off with him until Sunday was simply to see if he’d break the silence first.

I said my piece, he apologized, offered up an “alternative solution” (“I’d be happy to be your booty call!”) to which I politely declined.  “I no longer trust you and so I won’t be taking you up on that,” I’d said blithely.  I forgot to add that I thought we were booty calls, but by the time I’d realized my omission I’d already lost any sense of giving a shit.

Today, February 1st, is the morning after my second date with a tall, fair-skinned Mexican man.  He’s 28, has a graduate degree, and a fetching Spanish accent.  He also grins ear to ear and bends over in tickled delight at things I say, which is probably for the best because he can’t see me looking at him wide-eyed with disbelief.  Am I really that funny??  Apparently I am!

Our first date was at a coffee shop outdoors  in 42º F (6º C) weather with no heat source.  I sat as long as my cold butt could stand it then begged off.  He’d said he’d be open to coming home with me, but sober and jaded as I was, I demurred.  “I definitely want to see you again,” I told him, “but I’m not up for bringing you home tonight.”  He didn’t seem bothered and when I asked if I could kiss him when he’d walked me to my car he nodded and blasted a grin at me.

Three weeks and several more failed attempts to see one another later he finally made it over to my house last night.  I was observing myself more than him.  A hot cup of tea cradled in my hands, minimal makeup, my knees drawn up against my breasts I sat practically guarding myself from him.  He sat on the middle cushion of the couch while the dog took up the third.  It was cozy, familiar.

He did the grinning, bending over thing some more, told me about his family back in Mexico, his friends, his life.  Gushed over how genuine and different I was from any other woman he’d ever dated.  I was flattered, but also searching for that connection I had felt at the end of our chilly date.  I sensed tendrils of it, but we had been shitty texters in between these two dates.  The water between us felt so cold, insurmountably so.

He was closing in on me, shrinking the distance from me to him.  I smelled the woodsy scents of his cologne, could hear the crinkle of his leather jacket.  “I’m so glad you’re here tonight,” I said looking directly into his beautiful inky brown eyes, “but I feel like some of our connection has been lost these past few weeks because we’ve hardly talked and so I’m not looking to have sex with you tonight.”

He didn’t miss a beat.  “That’s totally ok with me.  I just really wanted to see you and hang out.”

We talked some more about our desire for a stronger connection and committed to keeping the water warmer between visits with one another.

Eventually, three hours after he arrived all tall, dark and handsome, he said he needed to leave.  It was 10:30 on a school night for the both of us after all.  I walked him to the door and tilted my face to his and closed the gap between us, careful to press my heavy and untouched breasts into the bottom of his rib cage.

Our hands slowly explored one another.  One of his cold hands cupped the side of my neck behind my ear.  The other slipped beneath my t-shirt.  I tried not to move away from its iciness.  I sneaked one beneath his jacket and the other ran through the short hair behind his ear.  His lips soft and pliant opened against mine and we melted into one another, a tall dark moon against a short bright sun.

The dog barked at us and we chuckled into each other’s mouths.  It was time for him to go.

Later, as I got ready for bed, I felt so incredibly happy.  And safe.  I felt so completely safe because I had been true to myself through and through and hadn’t done one tiny thing that the whole of me wasn’t behind.  The red pill I started to take 2+ years ago means so much more to me than simply seeing the Matrix for what it is.  It has also been the gateway to regaining my own trust.  Because if I can’t trust myself first and foremost, then how in the hell will I ever be able to trust anyone else??

For the first time in my life, I am feeling truly myself.

 

February Photofest

Stuffing my face.

I’ve been eating my feelings the past two days, which might not be all that notable except that I’ve diligently been chipping away at my weight during lock down and this now feels extremely reckless.

My heart is breaking on all sides – no different than you, probably.  I ache for black Americans for all the suffering they endure and have endured.  I ache for essential workers who must chose to risk their lives to keep food on the table.  I ache for the loss of life as we all knew it and I ache for the unknown future.  I ache for my little one who is back at my ex’s.  I ache for my loneliness – I miss my mommy and my friends and dates (even the bad ones).

I just ache.

And after Pey went to my ex’s yesterday and we hugged and cried goodbye I threw myself into work.  I stared so hard at the computer screen my eyes watered and my back ached.  The fat ass cat tore into my lap whenever it suited him to get some attention. It felt like a reminder that I was not actually as alone as I felt.

When my day was over I grabbed a bite to eat – a chicken salad wrap – and took the dog off down the street, careful to suck in my stomach because that’s what middle aged women do, I guess.

My visit was leisurely, there was a hose and some water for all of us, a lolling tongue and squinty dog eyes, hugs and kisses.  I walked back home and immediately opened a bottle of wine and made pasta.  Ate too much, I’m sure, but didn’t care. Then drank some more wine and ate 4 truffles.  I went to bed early instead of eating more because that was all I really wanted to do (eat).

Today, I woke up with Pey’s balled up shirt in my arms.  It’s not weird, you’re weird.  It was so quiet, peaceful.  I wasn’t worried about what my child was doing or should be doing.  I immediately felt guilty for the relief I felt.

Work started earlier than usual and I bore down on my day like hungry little bug on a juicy leaf.  And boy was I hungry.  I ate most of a frozen dinner and then the left over pasta.  When work was finished I laced up my shoes again and headed back out.

This time I was met with an admission that there were tears the night before.  I was missed.  “This is hard.”  Yes, baby, I know.

We fabricated rainbows with the mister nozzle setting and turned our faces into it.  It was good to see each other.  Do you want me to come again tomorrow? 

“Yeah.”

I walked home listening to my audio book (my second ever) and felt guilty for being so removed from all the pain and suffering in the world, for my ignorance of whatever was happening less than 10 miles away.  But I’m fucking tired.

I feel like I have been weeping for humanity since 9/11 when I watched in horror as the first tower collapsed.  I had just barely turned 26.

I headed straight for my last bottle of wine and ordered some Chinese food.  It’d be my third meal of the day – I don’t even remember the last time I ate three times in a single day.  I savored the MSG on the sweet and tangy shrimp and chicken and the mouthfeel of the salty fried rice and wanted to melt into my rug for the sheer shame and pleasure of it all.  This was what I wanted.

I have a brutally long day tomorrow, so my plan is to indulge to the fullest tonight then be in bed by 10 and sleep it all off tomorrow.  No more booze then, no more eating my feelings.  I’m going to sit alone on my couch after my visit with Pey and I am going to cry.  I am going to cry for everything and everyone and everywhere.

But tonight, I eat and I drink.


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Coming back.

Two years ago during February Photo Fest a similar picture nearly made me cry, but I posted it anyway because it was still me.  Not “sexy,” but alive and worn in the best possible way.  It made me feel honest to a fault and closer to you all.  It also challenged me and my idea of what was allowed for my body.

This photo is similar: my silvery stretch marks form a little constellation on my hip, my pooch pools just a little in my lap, the crease in my back cuts a dark slash across the pillowy cream of my skin.

Now I’m sounding like a dessert.

And it’s real and vulnerable, a photo I might have hesitated to text to a man once upon a time, but today I wouldn’t. I’d send it with an air of defiance.  I dare you to not love this, dicknose!

The older I get the more I think about the back half of the mountain and how I want to feel in my own skin.  Strong, worthy, virile.  Nothing about looking 25 again because I’m not 25 – I’m nearly twice that age now – and because of that I have no interest in turning back the hands of time.  I’d rather clasp them in my own and do the waltz all the way to the beautiful end.

 

February Photofest

Friday, July 26th, is Boobday!

Hy tits banner in black and white v neck t shirt

Omg I forgot again, but remembered! I’m so proud of me!! I’m still all kinds of fucked up in the head, and my little boat is being tossed around by the waves quite a bit, but I’m still in it and there aren’t any holes. So that’s good.

Ok, short and sweet this week.

Love y’all.

xx

Hy

Full Boobday Guidelines here.

One of two ways to participate:

1) either submit a pic to me via email (hyacinth.jones@hotmail.com) OR

2) submit a link below to your own blog post for Boobday.

Also, just as a reminder:

If you send me a pic, be sure to tell me if you want to be anonymous or not and what your pseudonym is (if you have one or I gave you one)

Tell me why you chose the photo you sent

And don’t forget to comment on everyone’s posts! This is all about spreading the love!

My tits:

I’m so tired. I probably posted this one already, but oh well.

NOT my tits:

Miss B rocking the sheer look.

I wish to submit this photo of a sheer top that I have worn in public with a blazer on, yet I do not feel any shame in knowing my breasts may show. 

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

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Friday, May 21st, is Boobday!

Hy tits banner in black and white v neck t shirt

Yay!  I remembered Boobday!  Small wins.  Though I did forget to post on Tuesday and just played it off with a nice e[lust] post.

I haven’t taken any pics in days.  The married man has been away at a work thing and he’s been entirely MIA today – which is not what I expected.  But whatever.  Married.  Who cares?

I also haven’t heard from Peter which makes me as nervous as ever that he’ll flake on Sunday.  We’ll see.

I went ahead and reopened all my dating apps since the last crop was a colossal bag of poo in terms of potential (I’m sure they were all really nice men).  Nothing to report there except to say that when I’m not actively looking for a mate (of whatever variety) I feel like I’m not taking care of myself, like I’m not putting myself out there.

So, I’m back out there.

Also, still nothing from The Golfer.  No big surprise there.

I never did get around to posting my and Miss B’s pics last week, so you get them this week!

We’re now in the home stretch for Every Damn Day in June and I am so proud of all of us!  Way to go, team!

Ok, gotta jam.  I still need to write for Thursday!

xx

Hy

 

Full Boobday Guidelines here.

One of two ways to participate:

1) either submit a pic to me via email (hyacinth.jones@hotmail.com) OR

2) submit a link below to your own blog post for Boobday.

Also, just as a reminder:

If you send me a pic, be sure to tell me if you want to be anonymous or not and what your pseudonym is (if you have one or I gave you one)

Tell me why you chose the photo you sent

And don’t forget to comment on everyone’s posts! This is all about spreading the love!

 

My tits:

I’ve always loved stripes.

NOT my tits:

Miss B’s pretty gossamer bra.
This is a sheer Gossard bra that shows the breasts/nipples in a beautiful way.  I also have a red sheer one; both favorities.

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter


Friday, June 14th, is Boobday!

Jesus Christ. I cannot be trusted with this blog. How I forgot today was Boobday is beyond me, but maybe not y’all. I assume you’re used to my absent mindedness. Maybe? Hopefully??

In any case, I’m sitting in a parking lot far away from my house after getting my chin whiskers lasered, pecking this out on my phone before I go and have another vanity appointment.

After that appointment I’ll be meeting with the married man. The jury is still out on whether or not I’ll engage, but his attitude is wild and fun and free and – like every other cheater on the planet – doesn’t want to change his situation at home. Additionally, he’s never been faithful to anyone. Not sure why he hasn’t just admitted to himself and all his partners that he’s not monogamous, but that’s a thought for another day.

For now I’ll focus on his tight bod, his English accent (that’s right, he’s a Brit), and his attention on me because God knows I dig that.

My impromptu date from last night was a bust, but I did get my extroverted urges met, so that’s good. I also (re)learned that I’m not into men who live with their mothers, especially for child rearing help despite having a great paying job and a house of his own to live in. Boohoo, man, grow up. Ugh.

I also need to go and do links on some of my past couple of posts. I don’t presume y’all remember who all these revolving characters are. I can barely keep everyone straight.

And don’t forget!!

BOOBDAY IS OPEN THROUGHOUT THE WEEKEND!!

So post as you please and double up on memes! Lingerie is for Everyone ends today and Sinful Sunday is, well, Sunday!

Ok, c’est tout! Love y’all!

xx

Hy

One of two ways to participate:

1) either submit a pic to me via email (hyacinth.jones@hotmail.com) OR

2) submit a link below to your own blog post for Boobday.

Also, just as a reminder:

If you send me a pic, be sure to tell me if you want to be anonymous or not and what your pseudonym is (if you have one or I gave you one)

Tell me why you chose the photo you sent.

And don’t forget to comment on everyone’s posts! This is all about spreading the love!

My tits:

(My phone won’t upload the image, so I’ll have to do it later, but just imagine a side shot of me on my balcony sitting in a chair with my boobies in the sun.)

NOT my tits:

(Again, phone is being a fucktwat, so I can’t upload Miss B’s lovely gossamer bra, but I will later!)

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter


You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter


Friday, June 7th, is Boobday! + May Roundup!

Hy tits banner in black and white v neck t shirt

I thought Every Damn Day in June would ensure I wouldn’t forget to post early for Boobday, but I was wrong!

Coming back home from California was a shit show.  A four-hour delay meant we didn’t land until 4 am and I had a meeting at 9 am.  I’ve been playing catch up ever since.

Add in some extra emotional labor and boom! I’m asleep on the couch last night at 8:30 completely disoriented as to what fucking day of the week it is.

So now I’m on my balcony listening to some coffee shop playlist on Alexa sipping coffee and taking tit pics of myself, per uzh.  [Update: had to move inside because it’s so fucking hot already.]

Oh, and don’t forget that the voting round for the Smut Marathon is still open!  Go vote!  The stories are all told from the perspective of not being able to see anything!  Very cool, if you ask me.  And early bird tickets are still on sale for Eroticon!  There are only 4 left!

Lastly, I had a really hard time picking a Top Anything for my first Boobday Roundup.  I had about 12, then 7, then 7, still 7!  I finally whittled it down to 5, then hacked it to 3, then added back 2.  I love all your creativity and thank you so much for doing this with me!

In no particular order my favorite 5 images were:

Miss Scarlet Writes – I loved the color edit and the shadows, the hint of things

Anne Stagg – The angle, the closeness of her nipples to the edge

Love is a Fetish – When you see it you’ll see why I chose it.  I love the tension

Bisexual Minx – It’s actually her hands that do it for me: they’re so relaxed and make the scene 10x more intimate

Purple’s Gem – Her hair is alive and you can feel the intensity of the situation

Ok, I’m still half brain-dead.  My allergies are attacking my face, as well.  Welcome home, Hyacinth!

xx

Hy

One of two ways to participate:

1) either submit a pic to me via email (hyacinth.jones@hotmail.com) OR

2) submit a link below to your own blog post for Boobday.

Also, just as a reminder:

If you send me a pic, be sure to tell me if you want to be anonymous or not and what your pseudonym is (if you have one or I gave you one)

Tell me why you chose the photo you sent

And don’t forget to comment on everyone’s posts! This is all about spreading the love!

My tits:

My shirt says SUPER MOM.

NOT my tits:

Miss B shines in silver.

 

 

 

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter


You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter


Friday, May 24th, is Boobday!

I am suuuuper pumped about Every Damn Day in June! Don’t ask me why, I guess I just love a good excuse to write every day and to give others the same opportunity.

My accountant emailed me today to tell me he missed something on my 2016 return and I’ll be getting nearly $2500 back! Something to do with the Healthcare Marketplace. I’m kinda still in disbelief, to be honest, but I’ll take it! Mama could use the extra cash!

I still haven’t heard back from The Golfer, but I am way beyond worrying about it. The Vet and I are chatting about our Sunday and I’m looking forward to seeing him.

Happy Boobday, y’all! I forgot to include Anonymous Aussie last week, so she’s gracing us with her lovely titties this week.

If I ever don’t post your pic it’s either because it went to spam or I misplaced it. I don’t make judgment calls as to who gets posted; everyone is welcome here!

[Ed. Note: And forgive any formatting issues: I did this all on my phone.]

xx

Hy

Full Boobday Guidelines here.

One of two ways to participate:

1) either submit a pic to me via email (hyacinth.jones@hotmail.com) OR

2) submit a link below to your own blog post for Boobday.

Also, just as a reminder:

If you send me a pic, be sure to tell me if you want to be anonymous or not and what your pseudonym is (if you have one or I gave you one)

Tell me why you chose the photo you sent

And don’t forget to comment on everyone’s posts! This is all about spreading the love!

My tits:

This got The Golfer excited last Sunday.

NOT my tits:

Miss B shares more of her gorgeous lingerie.

This bra is not hand-made, but has the look and feel of hand-made; fits the breasts “just right”. 

::

@rhubarbginn kills it with her very first Boobday pic!!

When I took this picture I’d had a bad day at work but it made me feel good about myself. I like the softness and curve of my tits and my little belly.

::

My beautiful sister from Down Under, Anonymous Aussie!

Weather is cooling down under, with winter just around the corner, can’t resist snuggling up under the covers! 

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter


Friday, May 17th, is Boobday!

Hy tits banner in black and white v neck t shirt

Something has happened to my brain in the last 4 weeks since I identified my daddy issues.  I am lighter, I am more energetic at work, I feel more excited about the blog than I have in months, maybe years (not that you can tell, but I feel it!).  I am more clear about my dedication to my friends (that’s all of you!) and my commitment to Eroticon.  I feel less guilty in general about life, my needs, my choices.  I am a sparkling mother fucker, y’all.

I’m even reading more blogs!  Like, 10x as much as I have been, which is basically 100000000% increase because I was barely reading anything.  I’m still not commenting as much as I used to way back in the day, but I am reading and it feels so good!!

I’ve also decided to take a page from other memes and do a roundup of my favorite Boobday posts each week.  I’ve noticed that my wifey Rebel has been highlighting her favs on her SOSS posts and I realized that it’s not “mean” if I say which ones I like best (something I have worried about since day one of starting this meme).

Also, I will be asking for participants to send in 3 photos from the same “shoot” that they’d like submit for Boobday and I will detail how I would edit them and tell you which one I’d pick as my fave and why (this would be separate from posting Boobday).  Kind of like a sexy selfie clinic with a photographer’s eye.

I don’t know how often I’ll ask for those pics, but I’ll figure it out.  Every Damn Day in June is coming up, so that might be a good month to start.

I have 2, possibly 3 dates this weekend.  A 3rd date with The Vet, an over-night with Peter who has recently dumped his girlfriend, and possibly with the Rich Golfer* Sunday (it’s dependent on if his contractors finish up the remodeling job they’re doing).  No new dates, no new dudes, no new anything.  Just maintaining my little status quo.

Ok, I think that’s everything.  Still no new boobs from me.  Just not feeling it.  The image I chose this week is from May 10th, 2012.  I was 36, The Neighbor and I were en route to imploding.  Fun times!

xx

Hy

 

Full Boobday Guidelines here.

One of two ways to participate:

1) either submit a pic to me via email (hyacinth.jones@hotmail.com) OR

2) submit a link below to your own blog post for Boobday.

Also, just as a reminder:

If you send me a pic, be sure to tell me if you want to be anonymous or not and what your pseudonym is (if you have one or I gave you one)

Tell me why you chose the photo you sent

And don’t forget to comment on everyone’s posts! This is all about spreading the love!

*[Ed. Note: I’ve updated “The Rich Golfer” to just “The Golfer,” because reducing him to his money and his hobby just seemed too much.  But he does golf a ton, so….]

My tits:

A 36 year old me. Dang.

NOT my tits:

Miss V returns! She used to post for Boobday eons ago! I’m so happy she’s back!

::

Sandy means bidness!

If You leave your clothes I’m guaranteed to wear them

::

Miss B with another lovely bra!
I wish to submit this picture as one of my favorite bras that highlights breasts very well.
::

 

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Click here to enter


Friday, May 10th, is Boobday!

Ok, forgive any formatting issues, I’m doing this from my phone (I can’t login to my WP dashboard).

This week has been great. Since my breakthrough in therapy everything in my life feels easier. Everything. From cutting out sugar to cutting out men. I suddenly have a place in my own world and I’m no longer chasing anything or anyone.

That said, I don’t think I’m “fixed,” or anything, I just feel righteous in the best of ways.

I have a Saturday night free this weekend. The Golfer is out of town for a family event, Peter’s dad is in town, and The Vet may have a work thing. I’m cool with whatever, but regardless of men sharing my bed/time I’ll have a great night.

I would have said the same thing 6 months ago, but this time it feels a whole lot different. I dig it.

Ok, on with the boobs! This week I’m posting two old ones. Since I’m on my phone I’m unsure of the dates, but they were just a couple of lines above the one from last week in my WP photo library, so I’m guessing they were from May of 2012.

I’m posting the first one because it was me at a painful worst in my life. I can’t even remember the specifics of that particular self harming without the date (I’ve only done it twice), but it speaks volumes about how far I’ve come. My poor old soul… I feel badly for what I’ve done to her sometimes.

The second photo of me is one where I was feeling myself. The backlit silhouette, the curves. It was taken just a few days before the first pic (based on its location on the photo grid).

It’s funny how quickly things can change.

xx

Hy

Full Boobday Guidelines here.

One of two ways to participate:

1) either submit a pic to me via email (hyacinth.jones@hotmail.com) OR

2) submit a link below to your own blog post for Boobday.

Also, just as a reminder:

If you send me a pic, be sure to tell me if you want to be anonymous or not and what your pseudonym is (if you have one or I gave you one)

Tell me why you chose the photo you sent

And don’t forget to comment on everyone’s posts! This is all about spreading the love!

My tits:

Hy and self harm

A little self never harm anybody… wait, what?

Hy at the old apartment backlit and sexy
In just a short while this woman’s heart would break for some reason.

NOT my tits:

SANDY 051019
Sandy has an important message for us!

Before I forget again this week….Had a sudden hair dye reaction that was unpleasant and had me rushing to urgent care. Then even more unpleasant allergy testing. PSA to all the ladies in your group “do the damn patch test!!”

Anyway, just a lazy day pic

::

MISS B 051019
Y’all are inspiring Miss B!

I wish to submit this binding picture as a way to show off/celebrate my great boobs.  

I thought of this picture due to another person’s binding picture recently on your site.   

You are invited to the Inlinkz link party!

Click here to enter