As a matter of forethought, today marks what would my wedding anniversary with my ex-husband. Six years it would have been today. We have quite a story to tell but sparing the details of our demise, I felt this day warranted something said. And so this is my goodbye to him, what would have been, and in the same vein; what has been as well:

Part of me felt I had so much to say,
So many grandiose words to fill the page.
Instead I find that all I care to say,
Is nothing more than a simple good-bye.

I’d like to say thank you,
For teaching me so much.
Regardless of what your intentions were,
You’ve shown me more than enough.

You convinced me that I was dependent,
That I could nothing on my own.
When in truth the last two years I’ve spent,
Discovering the independence I had all along.

In so many words you labeled me
As someone of lesser value than you,
But now I’m learning to see
The depth of that untruth.

I begged you to truly need me,
Not to regard me as an accessory
Yet you never seemed to understand
How much your disregard damaged me.

But I’m past the point of begging,
Past the point of walking away.
I’ve realized now the fulfillment that comes
When someone truly wants you to stay.

So on this anniversary of what was previously a happy day,
The starting point of forever we said
I close this chapter of you and me, in the simplest of ways
As the end of the beginning
And today my final words to you will be read.
Everything left unspoken, will finally be loosed on the page
Then through the flames they will come to an end
And with that my final goodbye to the now ex-husband
That I once called my best friend.

Grace
01/16/2016

I came to Him tonight literally crumbling. I felt as though every part of my essence trembled with the weight of my anxiety, almost as though my very being would be crushed beneath it. My eyes even struggled to maintain contact with His for fear that the **** inside of me would break and I wouldn’t be able to contain it. I needed my Dada, but not for giggles or cuddles or fun and games. I couldn’t put my need into words, the memories I struggled against were far too angry and traumatizing to even allow my little close to them. I needed my Dom.

True to form He didn’t force me to try to form the words to explain my distress. He simply held me tightly, and for those moments it time it felt as if His arms were the only thing holding me together.

I knew to expect big girl time, as we had defined that was the plan for the evening already. He knew the battle raging in my head and He had precisely the cure in mind. Full stop, lights off, shut it down, nobody’s home, sub space. For which I was simultaneously terrified and extremely grateful. My fears were not of Him of course, but of the reactions and emotions I knew His touch would pull out of me. Pushing me to a place of raw expression, with no filters, just pure undiluted release. Where my screams, cries, tears, and moans would be exhausted and soon silenced along with the struggle in my mind.

But before that, as I expected He would, He decided that we would need to eat. I was grateful He understood how deeply my mind was sinking and an all-out meal wasn’t required. Just a light snack, He said. But even with that my mind fought to stay present, every moment seeming to sink further away from the bed where we sat to eat.

Then in one of the most intimate displays of tenderness I can hardly describe, He fed me. Similar to how He would feed my little but not in the same way. He helped me with each bite, offering a silent affirmation with a simple stroke of His hand on my shoulder as I took it. I can’t put into words the depth of what that simple of act meant.

Once our pseudo meal was complete we moved on toward our plans for the evening. I’d already voiced my concern, that I had no idea what to expect from myself; no gauge with which to measure how I would react. With this in mind we moved forward, carefully at first and then with more intensity further on.

I soon found His touch and while at first it required much more effort than I’m used to in order to remain focused on it, He very quickly reminded me that both my body and mind are His. Not far into the motions He pulled me over His lap into a position I’ve come to know well and began to spank me, only this time was different. We explore both worlds of pleasure and pain within balance but this was not our standard exercise. The pace was relentless and I soon found myself grappling with the **** again, trying to keep the waters at bay. But He knew this as well, and the strikes continued as the tears began to flow. They brought with them a wave of emotion I hadn’t allowed myself to experience and with it as well a level of release that left my entire body weak. But with the weakness was also a sense of emptiness that I reveled in. No longer did I have the knots in my stomach that come with trying keep the plastic smile on my face.

With that we continued on into big girl time which sparing the details, was a level more intense than that of which I’ve experienced as of yet. The silence in my mind was pure bliss and I snuggled up with my Dada, my Dom and fell into complete rest.

I woke up a few hours later with the urge to put this into words for Him and also to acknowledge it here as well. I’m so grateful for Him, He is my strength when I cannot bear the weight and that is far and away more priceless than any other Christmas gift one could ask for.

Grace
12/19/15

To understand that *** is not a primary priority in our relationship means more than I can even say. To have a Dada who focuses so much more on making sure my little is whole and happy before anything else is done makes me truly feel like you see me and what Gracie needs.

Don’t get me wrong big girl time is amazing when we have it. You make my body sing for you and you quiet my mind until nothing else exists there but you. Your hands on my body remind me that I am ****, desired, and very ****** – and that those needs are not to be forgotten. They’re just not the priority. I wrote something for you that has been on my mind ever since you posted that writing 10 days ago. I hope it helps you really hear how much it means to me.

It’s ALL about Priorities

I love that your priority is Gracie, your focus on her is entirely unapologetic and that means the world to me.

Because honestly *** isn’t all that important to me.

I love that your priority is her happiness. Life itself has many distractions and I know that devoting so much time me (to her) is not always the easiest path. But the fact that you do, even when it means 36+ hours on Skype most of which just “being” which you understand is just as important to me as playing and talking and laughing, makes me feel like the most important person in the whole wide world.

Because honestly *** isn’t all that important to me.

I love that your priority is keeping her healthy. That you take care of me when I forget or refuse to take care of myself. The simplest things like asking what or even if I’ve eaten when you know what my response will be shows me how much you care about the smallest of things in my day.

Because honestly *** isn’t all that important to me.

I love that your priority is helping me find peace when I’m floundering. Whether it be from nightmares or when I’m physically not feeling well, everything stops while you help me reach a calmer place in my head and that cannot be more important to me in that moment even if I won’t come out and say it. And that is one of the biggest expressions of love you could ever show me.

Because honestly *** isn’t all that important to me.

I love spending big girl time with you, feeling my body submit to your touch and your voice as you make it sing for you. But it’s the peace your dominance brings to my mind (even if my head isn’t in a bad space) that is what I love most in that.

Because honestly *** isn’t all that important to me.

I love that your priority is meeting my need and you see how much I need your touch. To feel of your touch on my body, from the lightest of touches to the most intimate of places. I love the tender possession of your lips on mine or the taste of your skin as I bite your shoulder in ecstasy. I love the way you make me pant and whimper and sigh and then to feel it all come crashing down as you make me *** again and again into a state of pure ******* bliss. But what I take from those moments is the feeling of complete desire for me in every way. Your need for me without filters or guards is how I’m truly learning to see that I’m beautiful.

Because honestly *** isn’t all that important to me.

I love it when you pull me over your knee and spank me Dada, just the thought gets definite reactions and makes me gasp and blush. That moment of when my mind clicks into a literal “sub” space, surrendering all of myself to you, and with the simple strike of your hand against my bare skin, you remind me that you’re there to take every piece…every part of me to help me find peace and put them back together again.

Because honestly *** isn’t all that important to me.

I love the intensity of *** play with you Dada, something I haven’t so openly explored before. But I trust you with my every breath so I know that even the most intense of moments you’re there to keep me safe. And in that, I would give you any part of me without you ever needing to ask.

Because honestly *** isn’t all that important to me.

I love feeling you taking every part of me, knowing that I want to know you in every way that one can possibly know another. Not just for the primal satisfaction which I love just as much, but for the sake of strengthening our bond. One that continually gets stronger with every touch, little or big.

Because honestly *** isn’t all that important to me.

I love when the feeling of exhaustion as you continually use my body, beyond the point when I think it can go on. When my mind cries out that it can’t even while you show my body that it can until all is silent and nothing is there but you and I in the peace of the silent black space. Then I reach out and feel you take me close to your chest and remind me that you’re always there to keep me safe and secure.

That’s called priorities.

To the flutter of butterflies in my stomach and the squeal I have to quiet just when I see a message from you pop up on my phone.

That’s called priorities.

To know that I’d rather lay there in silence with you then go out with anyone else just at the risk of losing the smallest measure of time with you.
That’s called priorities.

To feel the sense of peace that quiets all of the chaos after you’ve listened to me whine, complain or just plain ***** about all that’s going on with me without word one of the mess that your day has been. That moment, that peace.

That’s called priorities.

To be able to be little with you with no boundaries, to be as little as I need to be and to trust that you’re there to be with me to protect me and play with me.

That’s called priorities.

Dada, you have taught me that a man’s priorities are evident through the actions that he takes and the choices that he makes and for the first time I truly feel like a priority instead of an accessory. And for that, the words “thank you” could never be enough.

Gracie
09/23/2015

The last year has been one of the hardest I thought I would ever face.
It has been filled with hard and fast decisions. The kinds that have ultimately challenged every pre-packaged expectation I had of what my life would be at that point.

I had reached a place in which I’d accepted stale familiarity as an alternative to the fear of the unknown. Where I hoped that if I could just keep my depression and frustration at bay I could endure for the sake of keeping things comfortable. Then I finally came to the realization that complacent and comfortable were not acceptable options.

I caught a glimpse of happiness when I truly discovered my little and everything finally clicked into place. Once I made that discovery all hope of keeping her in the shadows evaporated quickly, along with any notion of staying within the darkness.

So after making one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to within my adult life, I stepped out of that situation and began a journey over the last year that has brought me to a place of peace within myself that I can’t truly describe to anyone who has not yet experienced it. It’s a sense of freedom like I’ve ever known and one that I will not willingly give power over it away again.

Through every emotion, every struggle, every momentary doubt in my ability to do this on my own I can honestly say that I know that regardless of what comes; I can. It can be difficult at times but that doesn’t make it impossible.

That choice, that moment that I wrote about a year ago, was more worth it than I could have ever even dreamed. And I can proudly say that literally one year after escaping the darkness, I am at peace within the light. My little has never been more free, and I am one happy baby girl.

With sissies and friends who love and a Dada who thinks I’m the most awesome fairy pwincess in da whole wide world (okay that might be stretching things giggles) I truly believe that this is what true happiness is.

Grace
09/22/2015

After getting the chance to visit with an old friend a little while back I have had these on my mind and a few nights ago I finally put them onto “paper” so to speak. After sharing a bit from them with a ***** of mine tonight while we spent some time learning more of each other’s back stories, I felt it appropriate to post them tonight:

I know that to many I’m still considered a baby for my age (my little not included). At 30 years old in just the last couple of years even, I have made some very meaningful strides in defining and refining my happy place both in and outside of the lifestyle. I function very strongly under the belief that “without the experiences that I’ve had, I would not be the person I am today” and those words ring ever truer with me now looking back.

I was raised within an extremely conservative home. One where Smurfs were demonic and Disney villains were not a reality until at least the age of ten. KSBJ was the only radio station that existed and Halloween wasn’t actually happening if you turned your lights off and pretended you weren’t home when the “trick or treaters” came knocking.

I will pause here a moment and say that while I may not agree entirely with the methods under which I was raised I am truly honored to have the parents that I do. While her views are largely conservative, I love my mother to the ends of the world and I respect the fact that she was so invested and raised her children staying true to her convictions.

With that said, I have learned throughout my adult life a few lessons about the world and the people in it and as I love that the #7 is the number of completion, it is only fitting that there be seven of these as well.

1.) Cookie cutters are meant for kitchen drawers. There is no one universal mold and anyone in history who has believed that leaned a little bit more to the unstable side. (Does the name ****** ring a bell?) We need to learn to embrace and celebrate the differences among us that make us unique.

2.) To interact with someone outside of your normal circle doesn’t somehow taint you. Growing up, it was commonly modeled for me that to interact with anyone who fell outside of the expectation of what “acceptable people” were, would somehow taint who I was as “one of the good ones”. The reality is that if Jesus Christ himself ate with the tax collectors and murderers what makes you so high and mighty? So say good morning to the man with the scowl in the elevator – you don’t know how much he might need to know that someone sees him and cares. Give the extra $2 in your wallet to the homeless woman on the corner. That might be the only food she sees this week. So many of us function in a mindset of doubt, not acting at all for fear that we’re going to be misused or rejected. When the truth of the matter is that it’s not your responsibility to police how someone responds to your good will. Your moral obligation ends at the point when you’ve extended your hand to offer a gesture or help.

3.) Life is not fair to you simply because you believe it should be. No one “owes” you respect unless you earn it. You cannot expect vulnerability unless you are willing to lay yourself bare. You get what you put in and there is no bigger truth than that.

4.) Marriages/Relationships are not perfect, regardless of how good those involved are at portraying it that way. For the longest time I referred to those who would put on the “happy faces” and pretend as white picket fences. Until one day I realized that a white picket fence is only the “perfect” that everyone sees on the outside. The inside is cluttered, chaotic and real. Real relationships are hard, they require work from both sides in order to be successful. No relationship is one sided and those that are, do not last.

5.) People are above all, human. We are imperfect, emotional and flawed beings. We will disappoint you, frustrate you and ultimately choose the option which is the most self-serving. But at the same time we will love you, encourage you and tell you how much we can’t live without you. The strongest bonds are not the ones that make great accessories, they are the necessities you cannot live without.

6.) Listen more than you speak. Two ears, one mouth. Learn to hear what are others are saying before trying to interject with how they are wrong and you are right. Listen to the stories of those around you, it might help you to see that you and the people you are fighting so hard to be different from have more in common than you think. Never judge a book by its cover. Get to know the stories that make people who and how they are. The relationships that develop may surprise you.

7.) And lastly, don’t stay complacent simply for the fear of change. If you’ve reached a stale point in your life, career, relationship it’s time to do some soul searching. In the words of somewhere very dear to me, if you’re not happy where you are start taking steps to change it. Staying in a place of complacency will eventually fester into bitterness and resentment. Choose better for yourself, as all of your days on this planet are numbered. Spend them wisely. Love deeply, laugh freely, and live without regret.

Grace
07/30/2015

You read me like a your favorite book
Its pages though faded and torn,
Their creases familiar to the touch of your fingers
Its cover over time scuffed and worn.

But to you these marks as rather than flaws
Badges which have been dutifully earned
By the steady attention of your hands
My every habit or pattern you’ve learned.

Even when I feel as though you’re not watching
Your gaze is steadily on me,
Allowing me to socialize independently
While keeping me within the safety of your reach
With the ability to reach in and rescue me
Should ever the situation arise.

You pick me up as one does their favorite book,
With loving care in their touch,
Being mindful of those scars which have left their mark
Leaving be those places tender to me
And those you handle even more gingerly
Helping me to see, that I can trust your touch.

You read me like your favorite book,
Carefully studying my stories,
Reading deeply into the words,
Understanding my failures and glories.
But even as I fear you will
You never judge me, even still
You hold me tightly and kiss me until
I believe I’m still your favorite story.

And even as you read me again,
Same conversation, just a different day
You remind me in several different ways
That you treasure and protect me,
Very much in the same ways,
That one treats their favorite book.

Gracie
07/16/2015

After careful revision…here we go.

This was written in response to a journal post by another user, a rather delusional ex-Daddy who needs a little clarification on his facts. I utilized the reference name “Letter Writer” because I do not believe acknowledging him with attention would spotlight the accurate “*******” message I’m trying to relay here. It is long however it was important to me that I addressed each part of his *******, in essence closing this crazy chapter of my life. It is not required that you read it all the way through, however you are welcome to if you wish.

When I originally wrote this piece I was very flippant in my use of the Letter Writer’s name and for that I will apologize because while I do believe he should be called onto the carpet for his ****, my using his name was the same level of wrong as him using my name when he wrote the journals of his own laying out what he believed were my every “trespass” against him. Well my friend, or thankfully not even one I would qualify as more than “Somebody that I used to know”, there are a few truths that you seem to have forgotten so it appears you may need a refresher course. The reality is I don’t need to use your name, you know exactly who you are and although you shouldn’t even be able to see this I’m sure you will find your way to it. So without further ado, read on. For the sake of your privacy I’ll simply refer to you as Letter Writer. As you so carefully laid your insults to me into words onto the page for all of the Fet world to see, although they have somehow disappeared now. Pity.

To further explain, the original Letter Writer’s words will be in bold quotes as I do not claim them as my own, but they will help my “responses” make sense.

”Oh my dear Gracie, where shall I begin?”

Those were your words, or don’t you remember?
The only way I can respond to that is simply to defend her
The fact that both she and I are no longer yours,
Better yet, we weren’t yours to begin with.

Oh dear, bi-polar, (thank God in Heaven you are no longer my) Letter Writer…

You spin your words so carefully to shine your condemning spotlight on me,
Acting as if my absence from you, has left you in such grief.
Oh wait, I misunderstood then? You really don’t care you say?
That’s funny because your continual writings, your constant turn of phrase;
Which repeatedly speak directly to me, rings out with a different tune I’m afraid.

Oops, maybe you actually don’t see it? Well isn’t that a shame?
Well I’ll make it really simple for you and I’ll even respond in your own way.
I’ll even use the same condescending tone which your words always displayed.
Oh gee, I DO hope it relays:

”She used to say she loved me when I swept her off her feet”

That was before things changed between us
Then I was nothing more to you than your “treat”.
When all our “dynamic” meant to you,
Was simply another avenue to pursue
More numbers in your fan club or our Littles’ group;
Or let’s not forget the “loves” and “views”
Which seemed like such a priority to you.

One little thing I should remind you of, oh Letter Writer dear,
Is that group that you and your new Little now share?
What you both call “home”, is simply the group where
You and I played almost constantly,
A place that you specifically built for me.
Not that I’m looking to collect on that lease
But one thing I do wonder you see,
How does she feel to know she’s only following my lead?
Well regardless of her feelings it’s the truth that you seek,
Isn’t the taste of reality sweet?

”She used to say she loved me while she practiced her deceit”

Wow Letter Writer my dear, you’ve really got to learn to breathe,
You speak as if you were a dream,
A knight who swooped in to rescue me
When in all reality
You never really delivered on the whole “Daddy” thing,
Leaving us unbalanced, and forcing me to lead.
You’ve created this whole fantasy, which to you isn’t too far gone.
So rather than choose to beat this dead horse,
I think its best we just move on.

”She used to say she loved me and I thought it was a fact.”

I used to say I loved you and I’ll admit at one time it was true.
There was a season in our lives, (no matter how brief),
When I imagined my happiness would be with you.
However my education came later much to my relief,
Now I’ve discovered a real level of truth.
And I feel like it was you who offered deceit.

”She used to say she loved me just to get inside my head”

It’s hysterical to me that you say I played games
Just to get inside of your head.
Oh I don’t have to invite any others,
You have your own circus there instead.
Not my circus, sure as hell not my monkeys
That’s an issue your new “Little” gets to address.
It’s like this delusional place where you’re blinded
Against the plainest of realities
In failing to see the truth behind my words
Of exactly what you were to me.
No worries, read on, and you will begin to see.

”She used to say she loved me when we Skyped all through the night.”
”She used to say she loved me to pretend that all was right.”

Regardless of what you choose to believe
I trusted you with a lot at one time.
Then you showed me my trust had been misplaced,
And instead of the “Daddy” you promised I faced
Daily struggles to settle the Little you claimed
Never existed all along.
Anyone who knows you, well enough in fact, can clearly see
That within you can be found either a split personality,
Or simply a Little refusing to accept or believe,
Where it is that they truly belong.

So let’s keep going you know I have to make sure,
To address each of your ramblings just to ensure
That clarity is given, as it seems that you have endured
So many hardships that its hard to count.

”She told me that she loved me when I tucked her into bed.”

How funny of you to mention tucking me into bed.
You mean that lovely nightly routine when you looked at me and said,
“You’ve got what you need, now make yourself sleep.”
So let me just say wow, that’s truly unique
Your heartfelt delivery really cuts a girl deep.
As our bedtime routine instead of offering release,
Died rather slowly, until I’d rather fake sleep
Than pretend it even remotely worked,
Which would be one hell of a joke indeed.

I really hope that you’ve improved upon that, although not for my sake at all.
My concern is for the Little you “Daddy”,
Who I’d think must have a pretty strong resolve.
To be so accepting of whatever charm you’ve sold
Hell in her mind, you must **** gold
That she would be willing to reach into her very own soul
To create her own imaginary Daddy to behold
To find her own peace for rest.

”She told me that she loved me when I gave her pants and sighs.”

So on we go, moving forward yet again
To read of the pants and sighs.
Because after all the only thing a relationship needs
Is *** and more ***, didn’t you realize?
Oh wait, haven’t you heard? Maybe you haven’t after all,
There are actually relationships that do invest their all
Into other facets of life, not just the physical.
As if it were the only connection,
Where there is no need for the emotional.
Because let’s both be honest, that’s what you wanted if you’ll recall.
There are serious concerns for your health.
Not only speaking physically but I address also your emotional need
This obvious drive for you to speed, barreling into everything head first.

”She used to say she loved me after ******* other guys.”

So now let’s speak briefly of the “other guy”,
Whom you so righteously point out.
That point is completely irrelevant to me,
As I was so privileged to recently read
That from your ex-wife you are finally freed.
After what, 4 years, your post read?
Funny to me that when asked point blank how much time had passed
Since your divorce had been gone,
You looked directly at me and said, “It’s been three years since it was done.”
Wow! The courts must really be struggling
To clear out the back-up you see.
If it was finalized three whole years ago,
Yet you were only just now freed.
So now who offers deceit, Letter Writer?
Admittedly it’s not too far for your reach.

It’s just hilarious to me,
How you preach ever so righteously
When you were so willing to fly to **** me
All the while spewing your own lies, don’t you see
The irony of it all?
Yes when we met I was married it’s true.
A fact which I did not hide from you.
At least I was honest about what we were,
Why could you not offer the same?
You were the other guy for a short sum of days,
Until you no longer met the grade
And then suddenly it was all on me to pay
Your fun having ended, your hand having been played.
And now our game has come to an end.

How easy for you to step back and play stupid
When you were between those sheets with me, lucid
All in all, very well present in that moment
Until now, when you’ve conveniently forgotten, how appropriate.
Whatever’s said now, the deed was then done.
So grow a pair, dear Letter Writer, man up and move on.

”She used to say she loved me while she lied to her best friend.”

Oh yes, and about the best friend that you speak of?
Don’t continue to be so naïve.
She was involved in this more than you say,
However this isn’t a game that we’ll play
As she and I have re-bonded, recovering our place
And we’ve left our trash on the curb.

So let me pause for a question, oh thorough and calculating Dom.
For someone who claimed to be monitoring me,
Who has such knowledge, access to technology
Let’s speak about this instance of when I allegedly did cheat.
How is it that of this mishap you were so unaware, until I inadvertently shared?
It seems to be, oh no possibility there,
Another lie did my sweet innocent Letter Writer bare?

Oh I’m grateful for your lessons, the ones you’ve taught me here.
If someone radiates crazy, it’s wisest to just steer clear.
You’ve demonstrated so clearly every one of those traits.
Which tell a girl, “Crazy lives here!”
You should have the license plates made.
Like e-mails to my parents,
Within months of when we did meet.
Confessing your undying love for me and your long term plans to retreat;
Uprooting yourself and moving to a new state,
To come and move in with me
All before my divorce was finalized,
Which you don’t talk about; oh gee.

Continuing on that thought, there is so much to lay out.
Let’s see, constant posts indirectly at me here on Fet,
Or the job you still find yourself without?
Oh wait no, you’re an entrepreneur now,
A leather business from what I hear!
Congratulations, that’s so exciting.
So let me ask you, how does it feel?
It’s eating me up, I must know!
The knowledge that your source of support
Is your Little’s savings account
Rather than an employable skill of your own.
Or you know, one thing is for sure,
Family is always good for a loan.

”She told me that she loved me while she had another guy.”

In the same vein, this new Daddy you’ve called out
Has taught me lessons as well, but they’re simply more about
What to expect from a Daddy, things I never got from you.
Not how to balance life with a switch or a little,
Which you demonstrated those how-to’s.
His traits illustrate Daddies a little can genuinely trust
And who gives a **** for my wellbeing too.
Beyond the point of being a toy for him to use.
Which I’ll say is fun, when the balance is there too.

I must admit, my favorite part to this whole tale
Is that you still have this need to prevail
So you must broadcast your lives in detail
Just to prove how happy you are.
Well in that I say good luck to both of you
I can’t imagine how it must truly exhaust you two
However I can’t choose for you, to find happiness within yourselves.

With that, in one thing, I agree you speak truth.
Your words are stale and hollow, having lost their value
Funny though it seems your past haunts you still
As you can’t seem to muster the strength or the will
To leave all the ******* behind even still
I’ll bet you’re already planning a response.
However I’ve said my peace, no more duels, I’m done.

In reality I’ve found where my puzzle piece fits,
Where I am most happy, in the midst of all of this.
I hope you reach for your Little, not dismiss
Finding solace in what you claim to have in line
And within that solace learn to leave the past where it belongs, behind.

Grace
07/07/2015