I was moving the boxes in from the van to my new apartment in Mexico.
A lid of one of the tubs popped open and on top of everything was a hand-written note, "Use everything in here."
It was Papa's writing. He had spent hours the previous day going through his things and packing them neatly. Now I saw that would be meant for my eyes later; when he was not here with me; when I was opening the boxes to set up my place.
Dear slave journal,
You have served me well despite my outbursts, my neediness, my selfishness, my twistedness and my just plain blindness.
Now after seeing my ineptness in living life in society as a freed slave looking to be owned; after realizing I have a light and a mission which I must share with the world and realizing that as someone's property to serve solely them, I can't do my mission ... I'm ready to let it go.
If, in letting it go, it comes back to me as a gift as a blessing so be it blessed be.
If, in becoming stronger and action-oriented, in being my super-girl self I suddenly find a Cosmic Man--perhaps he is Papa, perhaps he has been here all along--then so be it blessed be.
If, in relinquishing all attachments to protocols which I enjoyed and which I prided myself in being well-versed in and obedient in, I somehow find them flow with ease back into my life so be it blessed be.
But right now I won't think about those things. Right now I make a strange effort to capitolize the "i" though I many decide I don't need to do that for personal power.
Right now, I am thinking about packing and what i need for my new business. Right now, I am thinking to be strong inside and work out and get a checkup to make sure I am healthy for my next six months in Mexico.
As much as I want to make someone into something or looking back and saying "what if" regarding my former Master ... as much as I cry and hurt and scream trying to deal with the pain of not having a normal close day-to-day life with my kids, I have to not go there anymore.
Amend means to change. Making amends means not doing the old thing anymore. Making amends means doing it differently now. Period.
I can't erase the past and I am a light now in the present, powerful Angel self I am ...
He gave me everything he owns in Mexico and the use of his van. He set me up in an apartment and with a main street shop. He is helping me get sinks and start-up ingredients and necessities because he believes in me. It means I won't live here as close to him. But he loves me and wants the best for me.
Today he told me that he told his son he loves me.
That changes everything for me. I can be celibate. I can be strong. Knowing I am with someone who loves me and will be visiting me soon. I can get myself to work out and get myself to show up and take action each day. After all, it is doing my passion, my lifework of sharing fresh juices and living foods and wellness protocols ...
How blessed I am to have this shot at life. To have this shot at making a very adventurous and beautiful place for my kids to visit in the summer and holidays!! To shine my light and be all that I can be.
My Master was kinda wrong when he demanded that my only purpose in life was to serve him. I knew it felt weird at first but I took it on as a challenge knowing that within his love would be allowed that I flourish, just that all that was second.
Like I've already said so many times. I tried that way and pray that I was good at it. Some say still who have met me since what an obedient and beautiful and intelligent and skilled service slave I was.
Basically, I arrived and that's all folks. It's done. lol
Was that all ?
Well, contrary to some of the controversy around the fetish worlds and otherwise, a slave is not weak. A slave is a strong person. The problem though is when all the ties and the foundation to the Owner are gone it feels so fucking strange that yes, a slave oft would be completely lost and dysfunctional for a while. It's like leaving a cult or a death in the immediate family. It takes a few years--not just one--to heal and get your bearings.
I thank the FetLife community, the local munches and friends I made there... I thank the slavegirls and subs who came to my slavegirl-figure boot camp meetings in Portland. They came into my life and to my classes when I was actually a falling apart wreck but I knew to save my life I needed to actually invite them in for a "class" on health.
They were the ones who gave me love and helped me to get healthy. I can only hope I helped them at all. I feel all of us were touched by that and it was fun too.
"Use everything in here" his note said... it was hidden in a spot I would find it later. Yes, Papa, and I thank you for that kindness. For your thoughtfulness. For seeing the good in me. He got me a stove, a refrigerator, he is working on sinks for my cafe and school ... there are countless things he is thinking about ... he doesn't coddle me. He won't put up with a moment of any outburst and doesn't beat me. It is chilling to me that he would just walk out if I interrupt him and I basically would not get him back. I need love and nurturing. But right now if I stop and succumb to my neediness and my emotion, I am dead. I won't make it.
It's sink or swim right now. It's life or death in a way. A very real way. The clock is ticking. The more I procrastinate the more my body is stressed out and gets weak.
But when I fight and move forward I become stronger and reach my dreams that I can show my kids and find peace in.
Papa can see these things long before I do. In that sense I am truly his property and he takes the form of the benign owner... and I am blessed.