IN WHICH SHE STEPS INTO VIEW

Let me start off by saying that I can now be a lot more open and vulnerable with my writing because my entries aren’t being proof-read by J anymore. He didn’t like me sharing intimate details, which I found difficult to do because I don’t really keep these blogs for an audience, I keep them to sort out my thoughts and feelings. I like being able to be totally honest here

So, now that J is more or less out of the picture, there was, of course, the ‘still be friends’ discussion, but I can’t really see that happening… I thought perhaps some back ground might be a little helpful.

Who Am I?

I know all about labels and their inaccuracy, and I don’t get caught up in them, but I find that they do give people a starting point when they are trying to get to know you.

I’m a 35 years old woman who identifies herself as being queer, and has for as long as she knew what the definition of queer was.

I call myself a lesbian, dyke, queer, and various other things but at times I find myself wondering about the accuracy of my self view.

I spent a long time on the Dominant side of the BDSM fence, and now find myself well put on the submissive side, so much so that I find I have a lot of slave like tendencies rather than submissive ones. I am very interested in the Daddydom/babygirl aspect of the lifestyle, I know that comes as a shocking surprise when you consider the title of my blog and my ID.

I am in a long term, but open (within certain boundaries) relationship with a bisexual woman who is two years my younger, sexy, intelligent, humorous and occasionally so frustrating that I could spank the arse off her. And have done. We rent a lovely house in regional NSW and share it with our 2 dogs, 3 cats and 3 ferrets. All we need is one more dog and one more lesbian and we’d have balanced numbers.

I paint, write, draw and am slowly learning to enjoy gardening. Our house has fruit trees in the back yard and I have discovered there is an amazing difference between the taste of freshly picked and sun warm fruit and what you can buy in the supermarket.

I am pierced, inked, shaved and dyed; and as someone at work keenly observed, I am trying to look different.

I work as a nurse, which I enjoy immensely except when you bring hospital and Area Health Service politics into the picture. Occasionally I get fed up with nursing and state that I wish I was a florist, but I don’t really. Really I wish I was a musician. Or an author. Or a stay-at-home mother. Perhaps a pilot. It depends on what day it is.

I am addicted and addictive.

A devout heretic and deliciously destructive.

I am the most truthful liar that you will ever meet.

Now watch as I get to be myself again.