A conversation about Coming Out of the dungeon about your Darker Desires,
with Fatal
Fatal writes – beautifully, erotically, provocatively – about her journey into submission with honesty and vulnerability. Click the pic to read her blog.
I had a discussion recently {my questions in blue} with my favorite Femme Fatal(e) about how she Came Out as a kinkster. What follows are threads from that conversation. To pull at them further, please visit her blog.
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So in terms of “coming out” as kinky (or about specific desires, fetishes, fantasies), I’ve noticed sort of… a pattern(?)… That’s not the right word, really. But generally, it goes like this:
- Person admits/comes-out to *themselves* that they want/crave/desire/kink-to something.
- Person struggles with What This Means in the context of sexual norms (whatever the fuck that is) and societal(?) expectations.
- Person comes out to partner(s) about their kinks/fetishes.
- Person comes out (or doesn’t) publicly.
Oversimplified, perhaps. And I’m at a loss for verbiage. But, given the “Out” cycle/steps above, how much of that is true for you? What did it/does it look like?
My process of outing myself to my partner (and we’ll just go with Sir as my par for the course here, because it’s been quite awhile since I’ve been with anyone else) looks… rather different than this pattern of coming out. I don’t know if it’s because I’m so, so, soooo comfortable with him, or if it’s because I’m an odd duck. I’m still amazed at myself for finding new things, as ignorant or as arrogant as that sounds! But actually, just this year has led to a slew of discoveries about myself, and about things that I enjoy with Sir– and it’s only just July!
So for me it usually looks like this:
- Stumble upon something. Notice I am aroused. Look for more of it. FIXATE.
- Tell Sir. Show Sir. Talk it out with him. If we gel (and we pretty much always seem to gel) we usually talk it out as a fantasy during “regular” sex (this could be anything. Spanking, PiV, Anal, Oral, whatever our regular sex looks like–and that’s varied) before we attempt to act it out. Some fantasies, and kinks, especially some that have come to light this year, will never be able to be acted out in real time. So sometimes we stick with talking about the kink while having sex, or I’ll write elaborate stories and scenes about it and send it to him. Sometimes we’ll write or talk them out together (We’re both writers–imagine that!).
- Decide that we’re both probably really fucked up and it’s best that we stay in our cozy little bubble about the mind blowingly weird, fucked up, perverted, exxxxxtremely hot thing we just discovered we both like. Joke about it in our down time. Tell NO ONE.
♦
The first time you Came Out to a partner (as opposed to not talking and just doing, which – as I’m personally well aware – happens) about Something You Wanted, what did that look like? What did you learn (positive and negative) from the experience?
Actually, the first time I “outed” myself to a partner was within the last 6-7 years. My most recent ex and I had been together for about a year… we were living together. When I met him it was under circumstances where I understood some of his proclivities, but had not yet voiced any of mine. I remember that the sex had already started waning, and I don’t know if it was me or him or both of us–I think a large part of it was me. I wasn’t used to “vanilla” anything. He was very sweet. And I like sweet, but I like sweet under certain pretenses.
I remember I found my voice in bed one night. I asked him to hold my arms above my head and pin me down. He did for awhile, and when we switched positions, I asked him to smack my ass. He seemed fairly into it. The next morning we talked and I told him that I had a preference for BDSM and spoke to him a little bit about what that meant. Again, he seemed fairly interested and wanted to explore some more. And it might seem comical, but I had box of “toys” (handcuffs, shackles, my old public collar, paddle, etc) that I’d kept deep in the back of our closet for the whole time we’d been living together that he’d never seemed to notice. We tried the handcuffs the next night. And I have to say, we had to stop because he couldn’t take it. He didn’t yell, but told me that under no circumstances would he want anything to do with “that sort of thing” again, and that it was grotesque. I was so hurt that I agreed and we never spoke about it again. That was also one of the last few times we had sexual contact of any kind during our relationship.
So overall, it was a pretty rough experience. What I learned is that… it’s hard to teach an old dog new tricks, and that what I like isn’t as “normal” as I once perceived it to be. Even with the “normalizing” of the “community” due to a certain book series I won’t deign to mention, I sort of keep that in the back of my head. There’s a difference between reading about something or talking about something and being excited by it, and then actually being confronted with it in real life. I wish I knew what eked him out so much about the experience, but I maintain that it is his personal business and he didn’t want to share. This may be the reason why I am soooo “in the dungeon,” so to speak.
♦
Do you and Sir have a system for introducing new ideas/interests into your dynamic? If so, how does that work for you?
Hmmm. I’ll tell you, I made it sound like sharing new ideas was the easiest thing between us, almost automatic, but it’s not that. I cannot always speak for Sir, but I know even he can be a bit apprehensive. If there is one thing we do VERY well, it is communicate. He is an amazing Top, and really not afraid to “break character” or “break scene” to ask me if I’m okay, if I’m feeling what’s going on, or if he can, experimentally, say something new or do something new. That usually looks like: “Baby… I’m going to say something… and I want you to tell me if it’s… too much… or too squicky, kay?” And I don’t think he’s ever been off the mark. Sometimes he’ll say or do something and he can tell by my reaction that I’m like FUCK YES, and he’ll ask if I’m liking it and I’ll answer in the affirmative.
And as for me? Heh. I think it has become part of our dynamic that I’m a little unwilling and a little resistant, and he must needs coax my desires and fantasies from me. I have my days where I’m lit up and talkative and feeling powerful and in my body and I say whatever I damn well please. And sometimes those days are great, because I know they really take him by surprise and I get to hear him be at the mercy of my ministrations (and what POWER that is!), but I am very often very coy and rather shy. When we are talking sex and fantasies, I am always deep in my head space with him. When I look him in the eye or hear a drop in his voice, I can feel the power that he has over me (that I want him to have over me) and formulating words is almost too much. So I usually approach him by telling him that I discovered something new and that I’ve been fixating on it. And he’ll ask me to explain. And usually, because I can be very visual, I will show him a little cache that I have built from finding like minded people on the internet first (the internet is wonderful, but sometimes I wonder if the chicken or the egg came first–would I have so many weird little fantasies if not for the internet, or does it simply allow me to give life to what was already there?). And he’ll have an “aha” moment and ask me to explain further. To tell what it is I like, why I like it, how I see us acting that out or incorporating it into our play time. He’s very inquisitive, my darlink, he likes to know juuuuust what makes me tick. He will usually start suggesting things and I’ll yay or nay them. And by the time we’re done playing twenty questions, we’re usually touching each other and fantasizing out loud while we have sex.
It becomes easy, but is not always easy to start with. There are little fears and insecurities that he does his best to waylay. I wonder sometimes if I will say something that completely squicks him out and makes him shy away from me–I’ve been there before, it’s not such a stretch that it could happen again. I wonder sometimes if he will find me frightfully boring in my desires, if something that excites me will only be so-so or old hat for him. And sometimes too, I fear my own desires. What does it mean that I like to do A while he Bs in my C? Will I ever know another partner that will allow me to be all of me the way he does? What would people think?
♦
What was the most difficult thing you’ve had to come out to Sir about? {If you feel up to sharing.}
Sir and I had a long chat about this question–what is the hardest thing that I’ve had to come out to Sir about. I had an idea in my head, but I was curious for his input, as I always am. He says he thinks, not a real kinky kink, but rather, asking for Anal or anal sex related things–this is true. I don’t like asking, and I’m very embarrassed to admit that I want it. My first thought was Oral sex–receiving, because I’ve always been nervous about that. I don’t like asking and I’ve never enjoyed it before Sir. And actually, that might be something that I’m still iffy about. Sometimes I find myself wanting it, but struggling to ask for it.
♦
You defined kink {links in red} during a blog conversation once as:
Kink is anything that I feel the need to tell, or maybe warn a new partner about. This could include squirting or anything under the BDSM acronym, or possibly that I have a sexual attraction to villains. I don’t like to toss around the word “normal” but if I feel like it’s not what is expected in sexuality, it’s kink.
{I still like that one, by the way.}
Would you change or add to that definition now?
As far as that definition of Kink that I gave, I actually think I still stand by that. I think my own definition of “normal” for me has expanded and changed greatly as I have changed and explored. I think for me BDSM is the norm. I think there are other things I’m into that are much “weirder” and “kinkier.” Haha.
♦
You said you are not “out” in your meat world.
In my Meat world I am not “out” by any means. As far as being out of the dungeon goes, there are a very, very, very tight group of people (less than 5) aside from Sir who know about my proclivities incidentally. Actually one person that knows more than a little because he happened to stumble upon my blog, much to my obvious mortification–but that was aeons ago, it seems, and though he might still read my blog, I’ve gotten way the hell over myself with him.
When I say incidentally, I mean… two of the people I’ve known longest in my life know that I “sort of do that bdsm thing” with “Sir,” who they do not know as Sir. And it’s become so sterile to them because they’ve both read 50 shades so I imagine they’re very desensitized–although I’d LOVE to say to them: “Nooooo. It isn’t like that at all. It’s more and less and everything in between and nothing I could ever explain to you in words, because there are no words to express the kinds of feelings that I feel” –but how does one begin, when one is unsure they want to share?
♦
For me… I find myself thinking… “Am I really invested enough in anyone (meatworld people) to want to go to the trouble to explain all of this? Or ANY of it?” One thing that is *different* about Coming Out in terms of kink (publicly) is that *consent* is such a huge deal. People have a right NOT to know. Telling someone (who isn’t asking) is rather like involving someone in your sex life without their permission.
Well again, I think anything that doesn’t fall into the realm of “normal” bears a lot of explaining to people who are not familiar, and it’s such work to undertake if there is no gain from it, innit? I mean educating people is always a worthwhile venture, but that’s the kind of education that not all people want. And if they’re half zoning out, half judging you anywaaaaaay.
♦
Is there anyone you would *like* to Out yourself to? (And I’m talking kink here, but feel free to share thoughts on sexuality identifiers as well if it fits for you.)
I don’t think there is really any one person I’d want to out myself to. I stay anonymous online even. I shy away from ‘meating’ (haha get it?) people that I’ve known in the blog world for years because I worry about them seeing my face, and what would happen if they one day saw my face in my chosen field of (very public) work. The blog is out there, it’s all over the place. Once it’s all laid out on the internet, it’s sort of hard to take back that you enjoyed being degraded by a man while he fucked your ass and had his fingers in your mouth (really a more vanilla experience than some I’ve written about, but would be taboo just the same!).
There’s another way I’m not out, and I fidget between regretting it and being perfectly content not being out in my meat world, and that is in sexual desire for women. I identify myself as bisexual. That’s how I feel. However, I also firmly believe in a scale of sexuality. I do not think everything is as black and white as it is often made out to be. On the Kinsey Scale I’m a 2 who squirms in my seat. I have one round butt cheek sort of planted on the 3 seat. I’m very in the middle. A 2.5 maybe? Which sounds silly, because a 2 would describe me just fine, but I feel like I lean toward a 3.
See I feel guilty because… there’s so much bisexual erasure in the ‘community’ (yet another community that I shy away from publicly. I don’t like communities!) that part of me feels it’s like some sacred task. That I should be out and proud and living out loud about my love of men and women. But as I said… it’s erasure that occurs in the LGBTQ community. It isn’t Heterosexual people that make me feel like I should stay closeted, it is, more often than not, the community that makes me feel like I should choose—or like I am “bad” in my proclivities. As a for instance, I have lesbian friends (who mean NO HARM) that like to razz me and tell me that liking to eat pussy/fuck women does not make me bisexual if I don’t want to or cannot ever see myself as someone who would love/date/ (and now!) marry other women. When I was in undergrad I got the “gay till graduation” joke quite a bit. Although, my sexual desire for women did not manifest in college, and ACTUALLY, my first sexual experience ever was with another girl–my first few, actually.
None of my heterosexual friends, and a large majority of my gay friends do not know that I enjoy women sexually. I don’t believe there is any one I would tell or want to tell.
I think I am so closeted because I have rationalized “being out” away. If they are not my sexual partner, I don’t know why they need to know. It may seem strange to say I am a private person, but I am a very private person. I have deep seated trust issues. I like to remain a closed book. I am working toward a career where being out about many things I enjoy would be suicide for said career. I worry that people in my life who know of the kind of physical and emotional abuse I suffered in my formative years would look at me and shake their heads sadly as they commented on how another damaged child has become a sexual deviant (not that I believe this is true, I just know that this is how many people in “alternative” communities are viewed). I wonder if it matters if anyone else knows, because sometimes I wonder if I will leave all of this behind. I wonder if Sir will be the last lover that I have that knows me so well and so deeply, that I can share such things with–and if so, does it matter if I am stunted by being “in the dungeon?” Point blank: I see nothing gained from being “out” and so I choose to remain in, for lack of a better term.
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Kinks and fetishes – and really, just *desires* in general – are so difficult to EXPLAIN. Not the “what” necessarily, but the why. Saying “__________ turns me on” is a vulnerable position to be in; saying (or admitting to *yourself* to start with) “__________ turns me on because…” can be downright frightening. And the fear! That your partner won’t get it, won’t like it, won’t get *you* or will no longer like you / want you because of it… Ooooof.
You and Sir have a special relationship. To have someone not just see you as you are and accept you for all your desires, but embrace you for it? It’s a rare and beautiful thing. <3
Probably not original but if two adults are in agreement then what they do in their personal life is of no consequence to me and therefore not for me to comment upon.
I have friends and acquaintances who are very open about their preferences from drag queen to “pony riding” and as long as they are happy and not in my face then “what ever makes you happy” is may motto.
That does not mean that I have seen people struggle very deeply to “come out” mainly in not alienating family ties et al being a principal concern.
The event of coming out is not to be trivialised as it so real for that person and everyone’s story will be different.
Oh, I agree there is certainly nothing trivial about coming out, no matter what manner of coming out it is. Sometimes I wish I was able to be that person who could be out and proud about everything in my life. I’m even sort of closeted when it comes to “nerdy” things I like.
Every one is different, I suppose.
xoxo
*looks around self-consciously*
In a whisper: I read paranormal romance novels.
Ssshhhh… Don’t tell anyone.
{I am also ridiculously turned on reading Mickey Spillane. Unf. Prose porn.}
I used to read books onto audio tape for the blind. They really liked using me for math and science texts during the school semesters, I always made the condition that I wanted novels during the semester breaks. They not only agreed they let me pick the genre. One time, because I KNEW I would never get through one without some motivation, I requested a romance novel just so that I could see what they were like. It was not the worst book I ever read. But I did consider it close. Parts of the textbooks were not only hard to read but pointless. I was told that because of copywrite restrictions I had to include them. It took hours and probably over a hundred takes to get through trigonometric tables because I couldn’t help but crackup at how pointless those tables were in an audio format. That is one of the reasons I really get into outtake clips.
Understandable. Most romance novels are absolutely awful. I think the reason I like the paranormal ones is because they are alt universe type stories. The good ones involve a fair bit of world building, just like good fantasy or sci-fi, and that gets my imaginative motor running. The sex in those stories is usually scorching hot. And since I write a fair bit of erotic material, it’s likely not a giant leap that I would likewise enjoy reading it, eh? 😉
Isaac Asimov, The Gods Themselves, Alien masturbation by rock rubbing, incredibly erotic.
Excellent conversation! I would like to expand the horizons a bit on “Coming out”. For about as far back as my self awareness goes I have been an oddball. Most of that time I was looked at by others as an oddball for what amounts to good reasons. I excelled in anything academic. In grade school they would have the posters of “This week’s top spellers.” “This week’s top math kids.” “This week’s tops __anything that didn’t involve other people___” I was terrible at sports. I couldn’t sing or play music. I didn’t draw well. I had a very short list of playmates. Despite having 4 sisters and a brother my teachers would tell my parents that I behaved like an introverted only child. Blessing or curse, I was the mad scientist. That makes you *weird*.
I became comfortable in my weirdness. At 11 or 12 I started becoming less comfortable in my weirdness. Not because there was anything wrong with ME, but it was becoming increasingly apparent that if I ever wanted to have sex I was going to have to at least figure out what was wrong with everyone ELSE. That was going to take some studying. A lot of people smarter than me had been working on THAT for a very LONG time.
I started with body language and psychology. “How to Read a Person Like a Book.” “Subliminal Suggestion.” I started paying attention to people who weren’t paying attention to me. I would watch how they interact without trying to imitate, merely observe and learn. It becomes quite compelling when one observes the strutting peacocks and the predators. The vast majority of people, IMO over 90% of both sexes, are strutting peacocks attempting to learn the best dance to attract a “Good” partner. Their success varies, but the intent is good. They just need to learn a different dance. If one wishes to keep on dancing it is useful to learn how to spot predators. Learn how the hunter hunts if you don’t want to be dinner. Percentage-wise I think the number of hunters compared to the number of prey is very small. They are very good at what they do. They go through a lot of victims. I found a book at the local university that was titled, “Abnormal Sexual Deviations and Their Treatment.” I found it quite useful to make a book jacket from a paper grocery sack during my readings.
Studying people and their mating habits can not be done in total isolation. I would need to observe people and that would take time. Years. In my readings about subliminal advertising I learned how to watch. Interestingly, people exhibit body language towards products on store shelves. I would walk around department stores, grocery stores, anywhere really. Store detectives would soon start following me as soon as they figured out I wasn’t buying anything. They could be entertaining to watch as they attempted to be nonchalant. Shoppers make eye contact first. Put the impulse items at eye level, don’t forget they kid in the cart seat, make sure they see the candy and age level toys. I attempted to get a date from a store detective once. She was pissed that I immediately knew she worked there. I was learning, but I still wasn’t doing a good jig. Shoppers establish physical contact after eye contact is made. RARELY do shoppers anywhere but grocery stores touch a product without buying it. Grocery stores are an exception. My choice for a book jacket was appropriate. NOTE TO SELF, buy cucumbears {sic}, pears, but no plantains.
Taverns and bars were the graduate level crowd watching. Can you watch the dance while not hearing any of the words. Yes, even if you can’t read their lips. I met my wife in a bar. I introduced her to crowd watching. Restaurants were good for crowd watching too, and it was nice to do that with a partner. Solo dining used to be more conspicuous. A good crowd watcher wants to be a wallflower most of the time, but doesn’t mind company either. Predators usually hunt alone, but not always. She never did good at reading people, but she would marvel at my ability to predict what people would do.
The pre-internet world of swingers and various and sundry cultures was filled with subtle clues likely to be missed by casual observers. That book I read about abnormal sex was written in either the late 40’s or early 50’s. Most of the topics they covered would be vanilla for most people by today’s standards. Tea Room Trade, or sometimes T Room Trade, was never about politics. It could be Glorious to some. I was always an oddball. I learned how to be a better oddball. I guard my privacy mostly because of how judgmental people can be and often are.
How To Be A Better Oddball: a book about embracing your weirdness, by Wild. Coming soon to an independent bookseller near you! 🙂
^I can see it!
I, too, am an introvert. INFJ, if you’re into MBTI. Sorry if that’s TMI, but what with all the BDSM and WTF-ery, I figured another acronym or two wouldn’t hurt. 😉
I’m not sure I fall into your peacock/predator schema, but I think that’s because I don’t know the standard dances and I have no interest in hunting. I’m more of a forager, I suppose. And I was raised by a pragmatic mama. She went to great lengths to make sure I was neither vain nor insecure. The upside of that is that I am comfortable in my own skin, and I know my own worth (and my value has nothing to do with my looks); I do not concern myself with superficial beauty, and I have no use for anyone who doesn’t have a mind of their own. The downside of that, when it comes to mating, is that – as I said – I don’t “dance.” The finer points of flirting are lost on me. If I like a person, I say, “I like you.” When I enjoy talking to someone (no, that is NOT a euphemism) and would like to have the opportunity again, I say, “I really enjoyed talking to you. Let’s do it again soon.” This throws a lot of people off their steps. They are trying to pirouette and I’m stepping on their toes.
But I digress.
Kind of like someone else I know.
Ahem.
😛
Your point about language and ‘subtle cues’ is sooooo spot on. I have a terrible time with acronyms. Spell it out first! Don’t ASSume I know what you’re talking about! And the ‘lingo’ is ridiculous. When my husband and I had our profile on AFF, people would say things like, “I like Greek.” So I’m thinking ‘food’ and of course, I’m into food (I didn’t get this figure by starving myself!), so hey, we both eat Greek food, which means we have something in common, right?
…OH.
Nope, not so much.
Really, what is so hard about saying, “I enjoy anal sex”? It’s so much more clear than all that beating-around-the-bush.
But I think Saying What You Mean and Meaning What You Say are lost arts. Or maybe they just aren’t artful at all. That’s me: Artless. But it’s my own brand of artless communication that has helped me navigate the ins and outs of relationships. I don’t always know what to say, or how to say it, but if I’m struggling with the words, I SAY SO: “I’m not sure how to put this, exactly, but…” Y’know? And that’s really the only way I have been able to put my cards on the table and get my partner(s) to show me theirs. We might have mixed suits, and our cards may be tattered, but I can’t fathom delving into anything kinky with another person unless we’re both showing hearts.
Communication is an art. Subterfuge is a science. As I was reading the post I kept saying to myself “And….” Then on the next question, “And….”. I agree with so much of what you and Fatal said. If you are on one side of a valley and I am on the other side, we both look into the same abyss. We see the same things from different angles.
The euphemisms are outdated. They lead to more confusion than clarity. Do you want a happy ending with that? No! I want to be miserable! What kind of question is that?
In my analogy of hunting and hunted I was thinking of far more sinister outcomes. Hunting calls mimic mating calls to lure the victims to their deaths. The hunters would be the serial killers and rapists that do exist out there. I think they are a small percentage of the people you are likely to meet. If you constantly throw caution to the wind you are more likely to know them better than you want to. A less severe threat would be muggers, thieves, blackmailers and the like. They would be more common but still a small percentage. Awareness of one’s surroundings and reasonable precautions can prevent lots of trouble. When driving in unfamiliar areas one thing I will do is take a hunter’s orange stocking cap and put it over the passenger headrest so it doesn’t look like I’m alone. People can tell from close up but can’t be sure from even a short distance at night. Predators want every advantage they can get. A small deterrence early can prevent them from sighting in on you. Ted Bundy didn’t kill every girl he met. He looked for traits.
I can’t say for sure if I’ve met any murderers, actually now that I think about it I have known people that have been TRIED for murder. They weren’t people I knew well, and I didn’t “Hang around” with them. I can’t say if I was lucky or skilled. That’s the scary part.
I really attached to the words in one of the questions: “People have a right NOT to know.” And I agree wholeheartedly that I don’t like telling people my kinks, who haven’t asked for it in some way. Especially about sexual things, who in the world wants to know what I like to do in the bedroom? Unless, of course, they do.
I really understand why it is important to be “in the dungeon” especially when the success of your public career is so much in odds with your lifestyle. Does it comfort you at all to be out to a small number of people? Do you feel like it takes energy to hold onto a vanilla pretense?
Sorry for the somewhat late reply!
It is very nice to have carved out a little corner here as Fatal, to be able to say the things I want to say, for the most part. To be able to voice desires and fears and uncertainties. To know so many people who read, and even if they don’t “get” it or are not necessarily interested in “it” they are interested in me, and they comment, and they know a small part of me that I hide on a daily basis. It is nice, and I cannot stress that word enough, but it describes perfectly how it feels.
Oh, it definitely takes some energy, on several different levels. I think the most exhausting part is on an emotional level. Submission gives me freedom like you may or may not be able to imagine. Our *dynamic* specifically gives me such emotional freedom. I’ve never been thankful enough to him for the ways in which he lets me run wild and be my authentic self around him. In my Vanilla meat world, I am a BOSS and when my anxiety or my tension level is skyrocketing or I am under a deadline, or I have simply had too much, the pressure to keep on trudging on is there. Not to buckle. Not to be vulnerable. To keep up the veneer, to save face.
It is… refreshing and really lovely to come home and to strip it all off, to let it all go, to give myself over to care and direction and catharsis. If I need something I ask. Or I show.
“I had a really awful day and I cannot stop sobbing. I really need you to spank me/hurt me/make me lose myself.”
Sometimes I just make grabby hands at him and crawl into his lap and breathe in his skin.
Sometimes I just want to be reassured that there is a part of me that belongs to only him, and that part of me is unaffected by all of the awful (offal) other things.
But also… it means there is a large part of me that I hide on a daily basis. Cane marks? Hand marks? Bruises? These must be hidden. Insight into people in the community? Nonexistent. The ability to happily wear my collar wherever I please? Nope.
What I have crafted is a Vanilla mask for my meat world. I am mild mannered Lois Lane by day and Fatal the Nymphomaniac Nymphette by night.
I have mentioned on my blog, but not here, and perhaps, because I am working on not letting it define me, I also have Manic Depression with rapid cycling. I struggle with Reality. I see Duality in all things, but especially myself. I find the concept of “wearing masks” both alluring and infuriating.
I was texting my best (meat world) girl friend the other day about a series of days I’d had: “I’m not sure who I am. Am I the quirky, world traveling, tatted up, Manic Pixie Dream Girl Nerd, or am I the elegant, eloquent, career-oriented, demure and mature woman? Which one is my authentic self?”
My very wise friend said: “You are both. And they are both everything that you are.”
Different character traits, totally applicable here as to the energy I expend living one foot in and one foot out in both worlds.
xoxo