I have too many secrets.

As I walked back to my car among others leaving the throbbing venue I felt full, content, invigorated. And also sad.

Tears filled my eyes and my face cracked into a broken grimace in the shadows. I felt invisible.

I imagined all the conversations being had, the thoughts being mulled. Tears spilled down my cheek in one puny trickle as I made my way beneath the street lights, the happy voices behind me receded.

I wish I could do that.

I wish I could get up on stage and share my art.  I can’t play an instrument or sing, but I could share my writing, my life, my experiences and be the artist that I am for all to behold.

But I can’t.

Instead I am a secret, a closely guarded identity that only a handful know. It hurts that I can’t be all of me.

Recently I was at a professional event and we discussed our lives in relation to work in general. It’s tricky business, we all agreed. I have to cross an ocean to show my face and be myself. It’ll never happen here.

And I am crushed.

I am crushed that I have constructed a life which will never be able to reach its full potential as either Hy or me because the other holds us back.

The real life me has a professional standard to uphold and honor but Hy could endanger that. And Hy needs to share and expose herself and her art but the other me won’t let her.

I am stuck in the worst kind of purgatory of self and I don’t know what to do about it.

I have such a story to share.

Both parts of my life are dynamic sides to the same coin, each demanding special attention.

A man I met several weeks ago on Snapchat wooed me with his charm and broken heart and convinced me he was safe — he nearly had me in Vegas this very evening if it weren’t for my current and overwhelming need for distance from all men.

I told him what it is I really am and he instantly got it. “If you are found out as Hy, you won’t just face embarrassment or judgment, but you could lose your livelihood. You’d lose everything, wouldn’t you??”

Yes. Yes I would.

But it hurts keeping these two sides separate. It hurts never getting to be all of me in any part of my life. Always hiding and manipulating stories.

After the show where I laughed and cheered with deep belly-shaking howls I didn’t want to be alone. I needed to be around people and so I sat myself at a marble-top bar. Alone, but not alone.

I thought of the man who smelled like musky grass. His cologne was all natural and called something like Herbal Vibes.

“Hyacinth,” I heard a deep voice say behind me at intermission. “I thought that was you!” I didn’t know if he meant he’d thought that just then or if he’d spotted me in the crowd earlier in the night.

We hugged hello and I felt grateful I instantly remembered his name. He said he was there with Haley.

“Let me go get her!” He said with a broad smile. I wasn’t sure why he had to. She was the girl he’d fallen in love with 3 months before we met a year and a half ago and whom was his “primary” then. I’d told him I could be second to none and that had been it for us.

Haley came down, beaming. She had beautiful, glowing skin and the Millennial head-shave women of that age love to don. We shook hands warmly and then the three of us stood awkwardly.

They said they never missed this show. I wanted to tell them my life is a show.

They’re engaged now.

Good for them.

I told them I’m still allergic to relationships, and almost as if on cue she said, “It’ll happen when the time is right!” I didn’t think I’d sounded sad about my allergy.

I’m glad they’re so happy, but I couldn’t share in their joy. Seeing them get to be themselves in public together reminded me how much I don’t get the same freedom and privilege.

My friends, my family; other than the danger of strangers frivolously trying to ruin my life, do I really have anything to fear telling those who like and respect me??

Could people other than strangers know about Hy and be proud of me? Would they be supportive?

The answer is most likely yes — that couple for example — Herbal Vibes and Haley — but what if they told a friend who told a friend? That person wouldn’t give two shits about hurting me and then the dominoes would fall.

Later that night at the bar with the marble I drank overpriced Chardonnay and my vulva fell asleep on the wooden stool as I drafted this post, but at least I wasn’t alone and at least I was doing my art.

Right then. And in public. Even though no one knew.  Like always.

I’m glad it’s over.

Pet the kitty.

I’m glad its over, but I dont regret it. I feel more connected than ever to this little community of ours.

I’m wishing everyone a wonderful time in London this weekend!! Of course I wish I was packing tonight to leave on my Transatlantic flight tomorrow like some of you are, but I’ll be doing just that one year from now, so no need for tears of longing right now.

And I’ll probably be glad that February is over, too.

Febraury Photofest

I have blisters.

I made calamari for Peyton last night and the oil popped and sizzled on my wrist as I held the pan.  It hurt that hot-oil-hurt, long, low and seething, but I didn’t miss a beat.  Shit had to be done.

I fed the kids (mine and the neighbor girl) and was in bed by 10.  The week had been long and full.  I also hadn’t heard from Rex.

After our misbegotten pot roast date things slowed to a whimper.  We texted Sunday when he got back into town and a little bit each morning throughout the week, but by Friday that disappeared and I almost hadn’t noticed.

Today, Saturday, I woke up naturally to a soft blue light and a purring cat.  Sometime in the late afternoon a blister popped.  It was some hours after that I relalized I’d heard nothing from Rex since Thursday morning.

Such a shame I had to get burned at all, but so be it.  

Febraury Photofest

No more dreams.

No more dreams, no rest.

It’s bright inside, so no relief only clear sight.

Fear is a flavor, an experience, not something to swallow.

Love is a leap, not a lap.  So is bravery.

A girl learns to hide, a woman learns to be.

Rex offered his two cents for today.  This was his choice.


Febraury Photofest

I know we need the shadow.

We need the shadow to see the light, to see where we begin and end.  One defines the other and are therefore bonded brothers.  Foes, but friends, too.  Necessary compliments.  Bitter medicine.  

But I had no idea so many lived in the darkest of shadows.  

It’s not so much a disappointment as it is utter devastation.  Shame.

I am so ashamed.

Will people look at me and think I hate them because of the color of their skin?  Because of where they were born?  Their accents?  That I don’t think they’re as American as me??

I will cast my light into the darkness and do my part.  I will rally.  I will fight.  I will love.  I will accept.  I will fucking smile.

But I am afraid nonetheless.  

My rights to my body are on the line, my ethics as a globally conscious human dismissed, my safety as an inhabiter of Earth at risk, my care about the planet mocked.

This is a very long, very dark shadow indeed.

I take comfort in knowing that shadow cannot exist without light, that there are millions upon millions of people who are struggling to come to terms with this new reality and who are with me, shoulder to shoulder.  No, we aren’t dreaming, unfortunately.  This is real.  

But so is the light.  

I didn’t expect to share this, but it inspired the words, so…

Spreading the love (even if super late).

Every year for the past several years Rori (and her beau, Cash), would lovingly pour over hundreds of blogs submitted to her each year for her Top 100 Sex Blogs list.  Last year, she abruptly had to leave the blogging world and also her 2015 list.

Cue Molly, of Molly’s Daily Kiss, and her trusty side-kick, DomSigns, to pick up the reins and steer us clear of the cliff of nothingness.

Well, she’s at it again this year and there are only 3 days left (depending on where in the world you are).

All my favorites have already been nominated, but if you have any that aren’t on the list be sure to add yours before November 1st when nominations close!

This is the list that brings us all together, expands our horizons, and really showcases how powerful sex writing — of all kinds — can really be.

Click here to make your nominations now for Top Sex Blogs of 2016!



A different view.

Secret buttons.


Click the lips for more!

Sinful Sunday

Friday, November 27th, is Boobday!


It’s Thanksgiving week and I’d like to tell you all again how very thankful I am for each of you.  For the women who participate in Boobday, for the readers, friends, and lurkers.  I do all of this because I think body positivity, a healthy self-esteem, and the right to express it any way we choose are important.  It’s turned my life around and I’m proud to steward it for everyone else.

It’s been a great week; I feel blessed and focused and ready to take on the world.  I wish you all the same!



Full Boobday Guidelines here.

One of two ways to participate: 1) either be one of the first 3-4 people to submit a pic OR (OR, not AND) 2) submit a link below to your own blog post for Boobday.  And don’t forget to comment on everyone’s posts!  This is all about spreading the love!

My tits:

Hy loves the 49ers
I just love the Niners.

NOT my tits:

KIM 112715
Kim gets nice and sticky!

ooops, I messed……whose got a sweet tooth?!?


SANDY 112715
Sandy’s curves go for dayzzzzz.

Post workout boobs.


Anonymous Aussie and her beautiful tits and locks.

The thought of you sprinting up the stairs, blonde mane swishing, this one’s for all the blonde manes out there. xxx

Be sure to check out all the other gorgeous ladies this week by clicking below and leave lots of comment love!

Friday, September 4th, is Boobday!


Yesterday was my birthday, the Big 4-0.  It was quiet, spent with family.  It’s been a rough 39 losing The Neighbor which has made other things tougher to handle along the way.

I hear 40 is amazing and every year after.  I’m certainly smiling in that direction, sun on my face.

Love you guys and thank you again ever so much for coming along this journey with me.



Boobday Guidelines here.  One of two ways to participate: 1) either be one of the first 3-4 people to submit a pic OR (OR, not AND) 2) submit a link below to your own blog post for Boobday.  And don’t forget to comment on everyone’s posts!  This is all about spreading the love!

My tits:


My pajamas are those of a paupers, but I think they're sexier than lingerie.
My pajamas are those of a paupers, but I think they’re sexier than lingerie.

I took this after The Neighbor left and thought, “I used to send him these pics…”

NOT my tits:

KIM 090415
I love Kim’s enthuisasm for spring. And her lovely boobies.

Dear friends in the northern hemisphere : Spring has sprung in Africa!! Hope you enjoyed the sunshine for the last few months…….coz we are taking it back baby!!

SANDY 090415
Sandy’s giant jugs are kept on a leash. Mmm. Makes me want to do terrible things to them.

Who doesn’t like boobs in chains?


Check out all the other gorgeous ladies via the links below! Be sure to leave comments!

Boobday will be slightly delayed, y’all.

I’m still out celebrating the end of my softball season.  

Gimme a couple of hours and I’ll have it up and running.