Sunday, March 18, 2018
Sitting naked and apprehensive on the bed I watched him unravel the exension cord he removed from the red bag. Placing a black plastic case on the bed he removed the wand and the attachments and assembed the unit to his pleasurable specifications. I layed myself out for him and he began by kissing me. My body trembled. With excitement. With fear. He placed the blindfold over my head and everythng went dark. Almost immediately I became disoriented. Losing track of where he was in the room I could hear him prepare. And then the crackle.
The first touch of the current through my body felt similar to that of a nine volt battery on your tongue. A humming tingle, sharp and contiuous; more of a nuisassance than pain or pleasure. It was on low and making contact with my upper arm. As the current was increased the sensation became more piercing. On the nipple it sent my entire chest up to my neck into a spasm. On my clit I was rendered helpless, writhig with the most pleasurable pain. If only there was another way to descibe it.
He would kiss every part of my body and work in shocks between the kisses. Sometimes he would pause. Sometimes he woud not. I never knew what sensation was going to touch me where. At times when it hurt really bad I allowed myself to be aroused my the accomplishment to breathe through the pain. But the real reward came when he whispered, "Good Girl". It truly pleases me to see him pleased.
While there is so much sensation involved with this type of play, once again for me I am so turned on by having someone who expects nothing of me than to be me. No promises or committments, no expectations than to respect and have a good time....and that is enough for him from me. I can trust him when I am most vulneable. There is nothing sexier than that!
I have always been a sexual being. I love sex. And I've been lucky enough to have lived out most of my sexual fantasies, cuckolding being the most recent. We spent time online searching for a third, a man to have his way with me as my master coaches him. Finding interested parties proved not to be a problem. But finding one we both connected with took a little time. And then we foud him. Anthony.
We met in a hotel room, he arrived at the specified time. I paused at the door after he knocked to look back at my Sir. He smiled and gave me the nod. I opened the door and welcomed him in. He said hello and walked past me into the room. After removing his coat and shoes he led to Sir with his hand out for a shake. I was quick to intervene as there was no reason for formalities here.
As my master watched from the desk chair I wrapped my arms around Anthony and kissed him. I kept my soft lips on his, my tongue gliding along the inside of his mouth as he allowed his nerves to pass and his shaking subsided. And with that he regained his power and gave me a gentle but definite push onto the bed. "Get undressed" he instucted. And so I did. He stood at the foot of the bed and stared at my naked body as a hunter would his prey; proud, pleased and desperate to devour. He undressed and I made my way to his cock and while kneeling on all fours I began the most seductive, wet blowjob doing all that I could to be sure he was pleased.
I made eye contact with Sir as he made his way to me laying on the bed. Leaning over me he held down my arms and my chest and asked if I was ready. Assuring him I was he instructed Anothy to fuck me, to take me any way he so wishes. And so Anthony did. Sir would kiss me while I was being fucked by another and that excited me. At the same time I looked into both of their eyes. So much passion and desire looking back at me. Anthony came. And not just once. He blew one load on my face then demanded I crawl to my master. When I did my master presented his cock and I blew him. Both had cum over my body and I had cum several times myself.
We sat and chatted on the bed for quite some time then called it a night. I went to bed thinking this is not where I had pictured myself to be at this age. I pictured being secure, successful and settled but this, this life is so much better. Sometimes it's the not knowing what's next, not knowing exactly where you stand, not knowing what tomorrow looks like that's the difference between living and being alive.
But it is not just being mom that is tough. Being a woman, any woman is of no simple task. From what to wear; to our hair to our skin and nails our day is filled with critisism and judgement and we are never more than seconds away from our next decision to be made. We accept this and we suck it up. We are women, it is what we do. But it wears us down. We get tired. I am tired. Like what led me to Belle is likely the same driving force that has led me to the BDSM lifestyle. I need out.
Having spent several nights with my one night fling exporing our deviant kinks I quickly realized that I naturally identify with a submissive's role. I need to give up control. I need to stop thinking, for others, for myself. I need someone to take over. And my partner, he had no hesitation about becoming my dominant. He yearned for the power and respect that would be demanded of his submissive.
Together through much communiction we developed our roles. We talked hard limits and safe words, setting goals for what we would each like to achieve through this relationship. This time, for me, was the most open and honest I had ever been with a man, or myself about my sexuality. I was able to express my desires no matter how dark and twisted without fear of judgement. I was truly free.
And so it was a summer of discovery. He was teaching me to trust, to let go and be his. And I thanked him by keeping him pleased at his every whim. He struggled at first with this new found control. He was excited but he feared where this would lead. Would he know when to stop? Would he take things too far?
Each night we stole a little more from the other, pushed a little further, explored a little deeper. And the bedroom was not enough. This poison running through our veins that once only flowed during the midnight hours now seeped into the light of day. We could not get enough. And I didn't want to.
Tuesday, February 20, 2018
Sexuality is a beautiful thing and exploring it, pushing your boundaries while keeping an open mind only intensifies not only your relationship with your partner but also your relationship with yourself. The thought of a woman being hit by a man strikes a chord with most everyone, myself included. And giving power to a man to do as he wishes sexually strikes the very same chord. What I have always struggled with is how can I be so turned on yet utterly disgusted by the thought?
Five months ago a conversation broke out with a male friend. The same male friend I have been writing about since my hiatus. We had danced around the subject of bdsm before but this conversation we delved a little deeper into our own dark desires, both I think a little shocked at the others' confessions. While we have known eachother for so many years and always pictured the other in a most respectful way we never imagined these kinks within the other.
It was the most real I had ever been with a man...or with myself about my sexuality. But I trusted him enough to lay myself bare. It felt so good to just say, "This is who I am, this is what I would like to try". I am a grown woman and if not now then when? We had many conversations, joined several social media groups dedicated to the lifestyle and even visited a local sex shop to speak with the counterperson who just so happened to be in a bdsm relationship and was pretty connected in those circles within the community. We learned a lot.
More and more I became aware of my submissive tendancies and gained an understanding of why I yearn to be a part of something I always thought immoral. And, just like escorting I became aware that my disgust was half part misunderstanding and half part society and the social standards we are all raised by. I soon began to accept my kinks and instead of repressing them I chose to explore them.
I will continue to write a 50 shades series as I break down my experiences and share with you my personal journey in the bdsm lifestyle. I just need it to be said, as I have struggled about sharing my experiences that this in no way denotes any changes in the services I provide as Belle. These experiences, interests, curiosities etc. are solely related to my personal life and I in no way intend on offering any such services as Belle.
Thursday, November 09, 2017
My relationship with Him, the same Him I've written about in recent posts had been the biggest test in my pact. And I have written so much about him as of late because it was a very defining relationship for me. One I wish everyone had the chance to be a part of. We had great sex. If you read my post about great sex you will know exactly what I mean by that. But it wasn't purely sexual. We hung out a lot. Concerts, pool at the local bar, karaoke, sitting on the front step talking until the sun comes up, road trips, camping...we truly enjoyed one another's company.
He had everything any woman would possibly want in a man, everything a woman could fall in love with. He was attentive, smart, sexy, great in bed, great taste in music. I could have easily fallen in love...if I was the same woman I was many years ago. I could have easily wanted to own him, to call him mine. I could have limited his life, put rules on how he lived it and tried sculpting him into the perfect package of a man I had tried with all others before him.
But He was different. For the first time, the most amazing man walked into my life and treated me better than any man ever had. I trusted him more than any other, opened up to him more than any other, truly enjoyed being in his presence more than any other. He was better in bed than any other, sexier than any other and stimulated me more physically and mentally than any other. And because of all of those things, I did not love him.
After one very passionate night in a hotel room he was getting dressed in the morning and with his sexy swagger walked up to me and hugged me and with a cheeky grin asked, "Are you in love with me yet?". We had talked about love and how we both felt about it so he knew coming up to me and asking me that, exactly what I would say. "No, I'm not in love with you ". Good", he said. And walked away with the same cheeky grin.
I thought about that conversation when I got home and I smiled. Not loving him was so much better than loving him. Not wanting to hold him back, not wanting to limit his life and place rules on him was so much better than loving him. Seeing him smile every time we are together, having us both look forward to the time we spend doing nothing, doing everything. If we loved one another we would have had many fights by now. We had yet to have one. If we loved one another we would be so cautious in what we say, how we look, how we act. And because we didn't love, we were just ourselves, all the time. No expectations, no hurt feelings, no jealousy, nothing to complicate these two wonderful people just trying to get through life.
No, I don't love you. I love how you make me feel; about myself, about life. I love how you kiss me, I love the feeling of your skin against mine. I love your arms around me, your laugh, your smile, your scent. I love that you're unpredictable and a little crazy, I love your off the wall thoughts. I love our conversations, our silence, our time together, our time apart. I love that you accept me and ask nothing more of me, I love that you can open up to me and feel free to be yourself. But no I do not love you because not loving you is so much better.
So love. What did that look like to me? Love was possession. He was to be mine, I was to be his. When I felt jealous, to me I was in love. I had ownership over him, he was to only want me. And so when a man became jealous because of me it was only natural to assume he loved me. So to me, love was jealousy.
Limiting. Love was about limits. No longer were you able to go out with friends when you wanted to, nor was he. Why? Because we have each other now? I am not sure how that came to be but love put limits on the who, what, when and wheres of how you live life. You were no longer your own person, free to be who you wanted to be. Now there are limits. He doesn't like how you do your hair or wear those tight jeans, it leads men on. Because love isn't about wearing those jeans because they make you feel good as a woman, it's about toning it down to a level he accepts. That is the love I was taught.
Rules. Love comes with lots of rules. You change how you talk to other men, being sure to not upset him by throwing out a fun flirty smile or even a simple laugh at another man's joke. You take caution in everything you say and do not wanting to upset him. So love becomes fear, walking on egg shells and again not being true to who you are because now you have rules. For all those things he fell in love with you for, the tight jeans, the fun flirty smile, the laughing at his jokes were a threat. And then, because you are no longer that person he fell in love with only because he asked you not to be, he walks away. Or, you decide you can no longer live life that way with him and you walk away.
So love then became very confusing for me. I wanted it so bad. But when I had it I despised it so I destroyed it. And each time i walked away feeling more defeated than before. My last significant relationship ended five years ago. I made sure I beat that one to the ground doing everything I could to get out. The highs were so high but the lows were unbearable. I wasn't allowed to eat, breathe or think without him dictating how I was to do it. When I walked away I made a pact with myself. My love will remain with my kids. They are the only ones that deserve it, that understand it, that will ever hear it come from my lips. I let go of my belief in a romanticized love. And my journey began.
Since then, having had a few relationships I still have not said those words. The difference between then and now is that I feel free having let go of all the limits and rules that come with love. I am truly free. I do not want to be owned, nor do I want to own anyone. I do not want to be limited nor do I want to limit anyone. I want to wear those tight jeans, do my hair or not do my hair, go out or not go out. I just want to be me. I am a strong independent woman. I don't need any man's love to hold me back. And aside from my kids, the only love I need to give is to myself. Love myself enough to allow failure, defeat, be humbled when I triumph and let myself grow as a woman. My love is reserved for me.
I've had sex with all types of men. Short, black, old, virgin, professional, thick, gay, trans...I've had them all. So when I speak of what makes great sex great, I do so with much experience. Some say there is no such thing as bad sex but I have to disagree. I've had bad sex. But what I consider to be bad sex, another may not. It all comes down to what you are looking to get out of it. If it's just an orgasm, then bad sex would be hard to come by, especially for a man. But I am not a man and even worse, I am a sexually adventurous woman whose bedroom pleasures are sometimes a little more complex than most women.
First and foremost, the end result for me is not an orgasm. If I get there, then great. I love a good orgasm, don't get me wrong. But some of the best sex I have had did not end with one. I take more pleasure in pleasing my partner than I do him pleasing me. Although the caveat to that would be knowing that pleasing me is the biggest turn on for him. Basically, my highest point of arousal stems from my partner's pleasure. If he is happy, I am happy.
Now good sex, sex that is satisfying to me is uninhibited. Be vocal, be aggressive and allow plenty of time for foreplay! I love touching and kissing, exploring and teasing. Talk to me, let me feel your breath on my skin. Tell me you want me, let me feel it in your touch. Take your time with me, prime me, prepare me before you have your way with me.
As for great sex, mind blowing sex...it takes a little more that you can't just plan for. It's that sex you just get lost in. Where every touch sends shivers down my spine. Call it a connection, call it chemistry, call it what you want but this kind of sex is so rare to find. I never felt it with my husband nor any other sexual partner I had had in my life. And it's not to say it was anyone's fault, that the men I have been with just weren't good enough. I just don't think I had sexually matured enough nor had met anyone else that had embraced their sexuality in its entirety to allow for great sex to be. It is to be celebrated once you find it for it is the most beautiful of all sex but once you have experienced it, once you have felt it, you are changed forever. There is no going back. You see sex so differently that accepting a relationship with anyone who offers anything less satisfying would be undermining your self worth. You then realise that even no sex is better than just plain sex. That's just how good great sex can be!
Thursday, October 12, 2017
Living in a society that begrudges a human the right to sexual exploration it was not until these later years in life that I began to indulge those curiosities. Putting aside all preconceived notions I have allowed myself to be vocal with my partners about my sexual needs and desires. And to my advantage, they have been all too happy to oblige.
I have been blessed having been in love three times in the course of my 43 years. And love is a funny thing because it was a very different love each time. We know different loves exist. A love for a mother, a love for a child, a love for your pet. But even love between lovers can be very unique. My first love was a high school romance minus the school. We met in grade 9, he 2 years my senior. Best looking guy in the school, everyone wanted him...and he wanted me. I was the geeky girl, quiet and reserved. Unnoticed. We dated off and on for four years. He gave me my first orgasm, maybe that's why I fell in love with him. It was a teenage love, plans of marriage and kids; we had our whole lives planned out.
Next was my husband. I was in a very confusing place mentally when we met and I will blame my entire marriage on that very fact. I was pregnant just 6 weeks after meeting. So he was the father of my child, later children. And that's the kind of love I had for him. It wasn't a romantic love but he was a good dad and I loved him for that.
Years after separating I began dating and soon fell in love with someone I had known for years. In many ways I think this is the most "normal" love I have had. We dated, actually went out on dates and loved being around one another. Sex was pretty good. We experimented a little but only in the way of positions. But it was good. I know he loved me and I think that is the very reason I stayed with him for four years. It was the first time I had ever felt loved. But that love soon turned into controlling and obsessive behaviour that I just could not settle for.
In between those loves, I had plenty of sex. Sex without love. It's a concept that is very normal for me as I do not buy into the belief that any one doctrine has the right to dictate who, when and how I have sex. Sex is a beautiful thing that I believe is meant to be shared but I do not believe love has to exist to participate in it.
The most fulfilling love I have experienced is with Him. I didn't add him to the list of my three loves above because what I shared with Him was a love without love. This kind of love existed without emotion, without a contractual possession to one another. I had been scared to ever use that word love with him because I am aware of the connotation that surrounds it and I didn't want to have my use of the word misconstrued. And it was only recently that I myself was able to make sense of it.
We had never planned to marry, we didn't even date. We didn't profess to ever want anything more from one another that what the other was willing to give. So we gave to each other an hour here, an evening there, a morning booty call from time to time. That was all we were willing to give. It sounds so cold but I can assure you it was anything but. Because there were no pressures that naturally come with relationships we were able to open up much more than either of us expected. Hot, steamy, animalistic sex turned into...more hot, steamy, animalistic sex. If we were in a relationship, that would have surely dwindled but with us it just kept getting better.
In the time that we were "not" together, I learned to trust a man, feel safe with a man and be vulnerable with a man. For the first time I felt respected, connected and understood. He cared for me and I knew this not by him telling me things he thought I wanted to hear but by the way he looked at me, touched me and most importantly by the way he made me feel about myself. I not only explored my sexual curiosities with him but I also explored my boundaries and through it all came out the end with a better understanding of who I am as a woman.
I've written about my experiences with Him in previous entries and there will be more to follow. I write about them because I think it is so important to make beautiful again what society is so hell bent on destroying. To not be ashamed of these experiences but to share the raw intimacy and its profound significance in our lives.
Sharing these experiences with you is intimidating as it crosses my personal life with my Belle life. By sharing my exploration I fear as Belle I run the risk of clients having similar expectations in regards to services I offer. It is important for me to be clear that my services have not changed, that these experiences I write about are events I have chosen to pursue in my personal life only as my safety is of the utmost importance always.
Saturday, October 07, 2017
Kneeled naked on the edge of the bed, a full wall mirror ahead returns the reflection of a woman naïve and innately exposed. Physical exposure, the naked woman looking back at me by all accounts was familiar. I know her curves, her flaws, her skin. But looking into those eyes looking back at me I see her. Curious, reserved, submissive, ...she is bare. She has not only stripped away her clothing but left laying on the floor with it lies her fear, her distrust, her control.
I am meeting her for the first time. The girl she was before life changed her, before society judged her. The girl before the heartbreaks of love hardened her. She is much more pure than I imagined her to be. I am saddened to only be meeting her now but as I ponder that thought perhaps this is how we were meant to come together. Had I met her through anyone else, in any other way I am not so sure I would see her for the beautiful soul that she is.
I kept my eyes on hers through that glass as he worked his way around the room. He was calm and at peace with his work. Seeing him so involved, completely engaged in his preparations could only make her smile. We were so at peace, so completely unreserved and forgiving to this experience. He broke my view of her as he stood in front of me, holding loosely in his hand loop upon loop of braided utility rope. Was it his fantasy or was it mine? He took his hands upon my face, leaned in to kiss me and in slightly more than a whisper he asked, 'Are you ready?". "Yes, I'm ready".
Looking back, I can so vividly remember the way he moved around me. It was the sexiest I had ever seen him. He was gentle and cautious yet determined and in demand of control which I was all too willing to give to him. Placing the rope around my neck he began the first knot. As he worked that nylon cord I studied him. His face, he was so intent. I could tell it pleased him to prepare my body and his pleasure only excited me more. The first knot was not an aggressive one, a tight one intended to choke me. It was secured just below the base of my throat, like a noose I could easily slip over my head if I so wanted to. The thought never crossed my mind. This first knot set the stage for the others to follow, each knot carefully twisted and tied in a manner he had spent the entire week studying.
This wasn't just about being tied up and having sex. And I suppose for some, that's exactly what it would look like. But no, it was so much more beautiful that that. I began a love affair with that rope. The feel of it against my skin as he would slowly feed it through the bind he was creating. It would send chills of anticipation through me. It was not the soft braided rope intended for this purpose, it was unrefined and raw, bare basic rope which suitably matched the girl in the mirror; bare, unrefined and raw.
He would at times break from his intense concentration to be sure I was okay. With every knot, every twist, every loop he took care of me. He was taking great pride in preparing his canvas. I cannot tell you how long he spent creating this intricate design, a beautiful diamond zipper pattern down my chest and up again through my back, then binding my arms as his final piece of work. Time had no measure. "Do I look pretty?", I asked? "Yes, you look pretty".
Kneeling naked on the edge of the bed, a full wall mirror ahead returns the reflection of a courageous woman. In being bound she broke free from her inner bindings. Encased in a beautiful cocoon spun by a lover who claimed her as his own that night, she was about to emerge a woman who knew no bounds. Strong, confident and free. As for him, he may have only had her that night...but forever they were connected... by the ties that bind.
Wednesday, October 04, 2017
I've always had my safe zone. Lines I do not cross for anyone, ever. Why? Because I need rules. I need control. I've always believed that no one will ever take as good care of me as I do. So, do not trust, set realistic boundaries and live safe. And having all the control works for me. If I triumph, I pat my own back and when I fail I have only myself to blame. It's just me out there, so yes, control is my grounding.
When Belle walks into a room, she makes it clear she has the control. She has to. And men respect that, giving it to her most willingly. It is an ego thing as you would expect, having that control and no one that dares to challenge it. It's powerful but it's also my comfort zone. It is the role I have created as Belle, to be confident, mature and always in control. Belle is predictable and in this journey of self-discovery I am learning that I need a little less predictability in my life, a little less "playing it safe".
Sexuality is a beautiful thing to explore. Not just with a man or a woman and switching up positions from time to time. I mean really explore the passion and sensuality behind the sex. I have fulfilled most all my sexual fantasies thanks to Belle. She has been my gateway to learning what I truly like in the bedroom, what turns me on, what drives me crazy and even a few things I didn't enjoy that I thought I would. That's what sexual exploration is all about. I am always learning about my body as it is ever changing. My sexual needs are not the same as they were twenty years ago. Desires change, your mind expands and new ideas emerge. I have become more confident with my body accepting it for all it's flaws. While I still strive to tone it and nurture it, I accept how I look right now. And maybe it is that acceptance that has led me to be a little more adventurous with my sexual curiosities.
What entices me most in the bedroom isn't necessarily the act of sex itself but the foreplay. I enjoy verbal teasing, anticipation and slow erotic caressing. I am most turned on by a man who wants me and makes it clear when we are alone. This night I am going to write about was all about everything above. Control, pushing boundaries, giving the utmost trust to someone else, sexuality, anticipation and total erotica. It is not like any other writing I have ever done, in fact just sharing this experience here is pushing my boundaries. But my blog is all about sexual expression so to hold back would denote a sense of being ashamed when in fact this experience left me feeling anything but.
Often times I cannot tell you what room I was in, what bra and panty set I wore or much else from that hour or two besides being aware that I have a self-confidence in me that I know I gained in that room. I compartmentalize everything in my life, Belle included. It's how I get by. And just like everything else in life, there is a time and a place. It's all about balance. Without the ability to do this I think I would lose myself and that would defeat the purpose for creating Belle. I need her. But she has her place.
When I see a repeat client, I am excited. And for many reasons. First, it pleases me that he had such a good time after our first meeting that he chose to see me again. You see the review boards, the agencies and just how many beautiful young women there are out there to see. And still, he chose me. The first time, it may be by chance but the second time and every time thereafter, he is making that choice based on the way he feels about our time together. That still impresses me every day, even with clients I have had for years. He still chooses me. Some of my clients have lasted longer than my marriage! They have chosen me for longer than my husband did. And while my clients are just about as faithful to me as my husband was, I have had more compliments, more feel good moments and much more respect than I ever got out of that marriage.
Suffice to say, yes, this is a business. I am an escort and you are paying me for sex. There is no need to pussy foot around that, we all know it is what it is. But it is also so much more from my perspective. I want, no I need my clients to understand that about me. I am proud of the service I provide and I gain a great sense of self worth by doing it. I am grateful as are my clients for the time we share together.
Much like real life blind dating, the obvious questions are there. What will he be like? Will he be impressed by me? Pleased by me? Will he respect my boundaries? Is he safe? Is the room a safe environment? While I can tout the fun I have as Belle and the wonderful people I have met there is undoubtedly a side to escorting that instils risk. We as escorts are placing a great deal of trust into complete strangers, some of whom have absolutely no respect for the escort as a woman but only a means for sexual gratification. This is why my previous post about communication with my clients is so imperative. It makes the knock on the door more easy to bear.
Just as my name is not really Belle (although I do refer her to me as one and the same quite often), my clients rarely offer up their true names making for initial pleasantries a little more complex. Using generic greetings omitting the use of names makes the first meet a little less formal. Yes, this is a business transaction but at no time do I ever want my clients to feel as though that is what this is. By the same token I appreciate when my clients go out of their way to do the same, treating me as their date for the time we are together. Respect, it all comes down to respect.
Upon entering a room, my safety is always my biggest concern. As I am placing my purse upon the night stand, greeting with a kiss, using the restroom, discarding my gum and so forth I am looking for red flags. Is there anyone else in the room? Is there the flashing light of a video camera hidden slightly out of view? I make myself aware of luggage in the room so that at any time if a client makes his way to that area I am sure to watch that no weapons or toys appear that I have no discussed prior with my client. While I have only on two occasions been greeted with such things, that's two too many in my eyes. As long as there is risk I will continue to do all I can to ensure I am safe.
I've been told I have a gift for reading men and perhaps that is true but I believe I just have a natural ability to read people in general. It helps to be intuitive, to pick up on body language and subtle signs that give way to one's mindset in the moment. Some men are very intimidated by a sexually aggressive woman so I turn it down a notch or two for them. I ease into the sex with conversation and caressing allowing them to take lead. For some men this is important for their ego which I am happy to oblige.
Other men have always lusted for a sexually confident woman but have yet to experience her in their lives. Again I am happy to oblige. It gives me great pleasure to give to a man an experience he has yet to play out. While I am not comfortable with erotic fantasies involving BDSM or role play, I am into sensuality, exploration and erotica. To please a man pleases me so when I can enter a room and feel safe I am better able to let go a little and offer the time that he desires.
It is important to be that my client leaves satisfied, that is a given. But how he gets there can be the best part of the experience. It is not my goal to have him reach that moment as quickly as possible so mastering the time constraints is a big part of my responsibility as an escort. I don't want us to be rushed yet I need to be aware of the time lapse. Ensuring the best time possible within that time frame, having it feel natural and unrushed while both being able to fully enjoy our time together can sometimes be challenging. This is where being intuitive to a man's needs become my biggest asset.
Once we have reached that moment I don't just hop up and get dressed. To me, that would be disrespectful...to him and to myself. I enjoy taking the time to talk if even only a few minutes. It makes the transition to leaving much less awkward. I will then make my way to the washroom and bring him a warm cloth. I want him to bask in that moment as I know for some of my clients, it is seldom they are able to share a similar experience in their lives. As he gathers himself I will slip into the shower quickly to freshen up, say a pleasant thank you and a kiss good-bye to end our date.
Having sex is easy. Being an escort, planning and preparing and pulling it all off in a way that to your client is believable, true and with eagerness is also easy. Because I love what I do. I leave that room feeling good about myself which I know for many may be hard to understand. But it is the one place in my life where I feel most free, attractive and accepted. And for that I am very thankful.
Tuesday, October 03, 2017
First and foremost, something to point out that I think may get lost on the clients. I have a life. yes, it's true! I have a full-time job. I have children, I have a house to clean, groceries to be bought and appointments outside of Belle to be met. I have hobbies of my own, I enjoy the gym and a good day of hiking. I like to read a good book, watch a good movie and from time to time socialize with friends. While Belle is a very important part of my life, she is not my entire life. I need balance and I maintain that by the way I do business.
Preparing for an appointment begins with the booking. I check my Belle phone regularly but I do not live by it. I advertise that same-day appointments are seldom possible with me. There has never been a day that I have sat by my phone as Belle, dressed and ready for that call to come in. I am respectful in returning messages as promptly as possible, it's common courtesy to do so but one cannot expect of me to be fully accessible at any given moment. Balance.
I have no problems planning my day around Belle and I have a lifestyle that I am easily able to do this .But to do so, I need notice. Once an appointment is booked, I am committed to my client. It takes a lot for Belle to cancel as my reliable reputation means something to me. I value your time as much as I'd hope you to value mine. If I say I will be there, I will be there.
Communication prior to meeting is important to me. This is not to be confused with sexting. No, that is not something I will not do. But I will answer your questions and be honest if I am unable to meet your expectation. Just as I choose to escort for my own personal reasons I respect that prospective clients have their own reasons for hobbying. There is nothing wrong with being upfront about the service you are looking for and within all respectful boundaries I will be upfront if I feel I can provide for you what you are looking for. It is not to say that I look down upon any particular service an escort may provide or service a client is looking for, it is just safe to say there are some things I am uncomfortable with or that I so choose to keep for my own personal experiences.
I often get requests for particular clothing. I think some clients omit the fact that I must leave my home, my family and then arrive at your door. Stilettos and a mini skirt are not common place to my lifestyle. It is unrealistic for me, in my life to meet such requests. Do you have a preferred colour of undergarment you would like to see? I can work with that. Stockings? Not a problem! But an outfit that screams, "I am for sale", is not a request I can meet. Because while I love Belle, I have a good life that I will always protect first.
Prior to meeting a client I try to be sure that I have some down time. I hate to be rushed and need time to mentally switch to Belle. I like to be excited, I like the anticipation. Neither would be possible if I didn't allow myself the time to be in character, so to speak. I will have my tea and listen to some feel good music as I get ready. I will likely confirm via text if I have not had contact with my client that day. It's just a small window of time but this allows me to give to my client the experience he is expecting by spending time with me, He has chosen me, above all others for this visit. I respect that time together and will be sure to live up to the reasons he has chosen me.
It is important to me to share these small insights. To give a glimpse into what lies on the other side of the industry as I think an escort's perspective can only lead a client into a better understanding of the hobby. Yes, we are escorts but it's important for me as an advocate for what we do to humanize the escort and have men see that we too have lives, we are more than the sex you have ordered and if you can learn to respect us as women first and foremost, the experience you have with an escort will be that much more pleasurable.
Friday, September 29, 2017
No...he felt horny. Maybe the rest was yet to come but the morning started where the night left off. Great raw sex.
It was an early morning, places to go and things to do. Reality was waiting for us just outside that hotel room door. It reminded me of a movie I once saw. A young couple spent the night on a bench I believe. They talked all night long and were totally caught up in each other. I don't remember the details but in the end, they had to step off the bench and life was to return as it was before their night began. I watched that movie and was left wishing for a night to be so engaging, the moments shared to be so memorable, so intense that I feared taking that step down and walking away. This was that moment, this was my bench.
I wore the look of a great night of sex well, traipsing about the room gathering pieces of clothing that had been strewn about. I don't even remember any of it coming off save for the Canadian's jersey he not-so-jokingly insisted had to come off before he could be with me. My hair was a mess, I wore the smell of sex like the most expensive bottle of perfume. I had no shame in front of him. Feeling so free, so uninhibited around him put a smile on my face as I hedged for the shower. Moments later he joined me.
Another rule to be broken, I shall not shower with no one! Not my husband, not my loves of my life and here, now, with him I stood in the shower. As the water beat upon us I just looked at him and smiled. Hello again, me. Where have you been?
I lay next to him in bed, both of us completely exhausted. It had been hour after hour of impulsive, animalistic sex. The high began to drain as I listened to him fall asleep beside me. I was coming down. The euphoria being replaced by something all too familiar for me in the dark of the night. My mind was racing, my thoughts bouncing between the synapses in my brain, firing like a war zone only it's a war that's never to be won. Because like any war ever to be fought, it makes no damn sense.
You would think, if I were like any other woman out there, the war would be about love and romance and who is going to be the first to call who. You would think I was laying there hoping he felt the same things I did and that maybe he was really impressed with my hair or found me funny enough to want to see me again. You would think I would be all cuddled up basking in the thought that maybe this is the one. But I am not like any other woman.
I found myself laying on the far side of the bed staring at the wall. I had to make sense of all of this somehow before morning. I tried to rationalize what I was feeling. The connection, was it chemistry? Just pure and natural hormones that were a perfect match in bed? Maybe that's it. But can chemistry make you feel safe with someone you for the first time are getting to know in an intimate way? Because that is not me, I don't ever trust anyone in that way. And the need for more. Not a want but a need. As I thought this I rolled over to look at him. Naked, his sweat now cooled, covered slightly by the hotel's classic white duvet. After acknowledging just how creepy this was, I found myself just wanting to touch him, but he was back to being untouchable. I had allowed my thoughts to interfere briefly with what had transpired that night. I can touch him when he's touching me but I cannot reach out. He wouldn't understand. Hell, I don't even understand.
I didn't want him to roll over to me and say he loved me or shoot me some cheesy line that he thinks I would expect him to say. I'm not a princess, I'm not in need of patronizing flattery. I just wanted to look at him and for the first time in so many years feel like someone was there, I was not alone. Only I grappled with the fact that I wasn't content with just someone being there, but that it was him that was there. So I don't want to date him, I don't want to hold him back, I don't want to talk feelings and emotions and live happily ever after with him but I want him there. And not just tonight. But not every night either. And I don't want obligatory next-day call backs, but I want more of everything else from him. I want him but on my terms. Yeah, fucked up...I know.
Thursday, September 28, 2017
When my husband and I decided we were done, I was devastated. Not because I lost the love of my life. No, there was no love there. But because I was alone. I was now on my own, completely alone in this world. I had kids depending on me, a job depending on me. And for years, it was me being lost in my head, trapped with my thoughts. I was secluded, removed from all people. It was a dark path to travel. I have always felt misunderstood, a little more complex than most. What should make sense doesn't make sense for me. What should be right feels wrong, what's wrong feels so right. The black sheep. The one that doesn't follow the rules or fit the mold others create. I was alone. And when you feel that way you disconnect from the world around you. I am pretty sure it is in that place I created Belle.
Belle could connect with others. She could be wild and crazy, sweet and unassuming. She could be anything I wanted her to be, anything I had ever desired to be as a woman but never felt I had a safe outlet to just be. And people enjoyed her company. They liked to be around Belle.
So that night, although it may have been Belle that showed up, she didn't stay long. Layer by layer he peeled back, revealing me, stripping me down to my soul. There was nothing else that existed outside of his body against mine. Here was the most handsome man, strong and fit, a body that mine melted into, the sex so hot I am not sure where he ended and I began. If he knew just how raw this experience was for me he would have run, I could never expect anyone to understand what was going on in my head.
I stood in front of him, sometimes on the floor, other times kneeling above his body just trying to catch my breath and I wasn't ashamed. I was taking on Belle's confidence. Never had I done that with someone outside of her. And he seemed to accept me for who I was putting out in front of him. Being accepted for me has always been a part of Belle's world. She is easily accepted as her desires, her passion and her sense of adventure is shared by like-minded people. It is something I have yearned for ever since I can remember...to be fully accepted just as I am without someone feeling the need to change me, any part of me. I am in front of a man who is turned on by me, not just my body but he knows me, even if in some small way and he wants to share this night with me. So hot.
It was a night of slight intoxication, the hum of a shared taste in music in the background that every so often we would come out of our heads to take notice of and sweet, sultry passionate sex. He was so intuitive to my body, what pleased me, what put me over the edge. I didn't guide him, I didn't ask him, he just gave it to me. There were moments so intense I would forget to breathe. Get your head around that, moments that had me so caught up that I forgot to take in the one essential need for life...I would have to remind myself to breathe. I would roll out from under him gasping, my head fuzzy and near blacking out. And not just once.
After several hours of nonstop sex, he leaned over me and asked if we were to be leaving the room that night to go our separate ways. I have always said yes. I don't do overnights. If you know anything about me.. I'm out before the sun comes up. It's a rule. It keeps me safe. I should have told him yes, we must go but I couldn't find it in myself to say so. So I told him the choice was his. I acted as nonchalant as possible, not wanting to cite my desire either way and he instantly said we were there for the night. Without a second thought, we were there for the night. And we started the next round...
The kiss is everything. In a relationship the kiss is the biggest form of communication. It can say, "Good morning", "Good night", "I love you", "It will be okay", "I'm here", "I'm sorry", "I want you".. Without the kiss it's just words and you know what little faith I have in words.
He first kissed me in a parking lot of the hotel I chose to meet at. The hotel that we would become naked and unreserved in, using it to explore our sexual desires. If it were possible to orgasm from just one kiss, I would have right there. You can't explain chemistry like that on paper. If I did have any fears or concerns going in, they left me with that first kiss. Never have I anticipated sex with such a hunger, such intense need as I did last night. And his kiss...if he could do that to me with just his kiss..
There is something to be said for anticipation and this very moment, standing before the man I have lusted over for so many years, who has been the object of my borderline obsession, the anticipation was unbearable. I was about to make him mine. Not mine for life, not mine for a year or for month but mine for just this night. Just one night.
For forbidden desires to be fulfilled I felt a need to open up the dialogue. We couldn't go into this like blind fools. That's how I know it wasn't just Belle there last night. I had to be responsible, we both did and be upfront with what was about to happen. Without this conversation we would leave the possibility of regret and if we were going to explore ourselves sexually, I was leaving no room for that. Perhaps it was in that moment that I fell. Our talk was candid, open and honest. To some, the dialogue would have killed the mood but it just made me want him even more. I saw something so sincere in him, I could sense his desire, his fear, his need for what was about to happen.
He reached out for my body and his touch, the heat from his hand somehow sent chills through me. Think about that for a second. His heat sent chills through me. He had me frozen in that moment, that moment that I wanted to last forever. I didn't want to forget how I felt right then, naked and vulnerable in front of him. It was all so wrong but it felt so damn right. He had the power to make me feel so powerless, wanting more of him, all of him. That is anticipation.
What I have been doing wrong all along is separating the two, me from her. We are but one yet I have never allowed myself to accept we are the same. So it is to him that I owe my thanks. He saved a woman that has always insisted she didn't need saving.
Looking back on the writing I have done in the past four months I have had time to evaluate and make sense of this love affair. I needed time to compose my perspective to be able to share it freely. When I initially posted this writing, it was without a foreword and so I took it down to have time to explain to him and prepare him and be sure he understood where my writing comes from, And to do that, I had to explain Belle. He had already met her but he had no idea about her. Talks have been had, understandings have been met and now I want to share with all of you reading, what happens when I go there....
It has been a secret lust for years. Everyone has one. That one person you can never have, that is untouchable, forbidden. He is mine. For all the years I have known him, we have been respectfully platonic. There has never been an exchange of glances or sly grins, no sexual innuendos, no teasing or foreplay. We are co-workers. He was a married man, I was a married woman. We are both well respected professionals. But not this night, no, this night we were none of the above.
Both of us now unattached and still I saw him as untouchable and he is most certainly still forbidden. Bound by the constraints of a working relationship, it wasn't until a perhaps not-so-innocent comment he made about not having sex in over a year that I decided to take a huge risk and proposition him. We left work just an hour after that comment was made and my head was reeling. I let that moment go too long, allow time to pass and I may never get another window. And so as soon as I walked in my door, a quick message through social media to him was sent.
"I wasn't going to go there, but you did so...my number is ###-###-####, just say when and where."
And then I held my breath. it is not too often I act without thinking things through. I justified it by telling myself that lusting for him for 20 years was more than enough time to think this through. But I knew this was a great risk. I value my relationships with my co-workers. Their respect means a lot to me. I had so much to lose.
An instant reply and he was in. Just. Like. That. Things don't happen like that in my personal life. As Belle, maybe. But not as me. And just like that night at work, I wasn't going to let any time pass so I set it up for last night. Somewhere in all of this, somehow, Belle took over. Maybe it was just too much for me to handle. I don't behave like this, this is Belle's territory. So I handed her the steering wheel and we went for a little ride.
I booked a room and sent him on a little treasure hunt to find the key. He had no idea what he was looking for until my directions led him to it. Attached to the key was the hotel card and room number. I have never booked a room for random sex. Hell, Belle has never booked a room for random sex! He sent me a text with the assurance he would be waiting there for me and that he was looking forward to it. I had to work last night but knew I would be leaving early. I tried so hard to focus on my job at hand but my palms were sweaty and my heart was pounding. This was becoming a messy combination of Belle and myself and the thought of the two combining terrified the hell out of me. It wasn't all Belle, she doesn't get nervous and sweaty. And this isn't me, I would never approach a man in such an aggressive way. But together the two of us were in such intense anticipation for what the night would bring.
Finally, just 2 hours into my shift (that seemed like a lifetime that night), I was sent home. Home? Oh hell no, there won't be any going home for me tonight....
Friday, September 22, 2017
Sunday, September 16, 2012
To answer that question with a simple yes or no would not adequately convey my thoughts on the matter so I felt it a great blog post to explain in detail my response. I realize too that as I experience more as Belle, my perspective has changed some too so answering this question today and answering it five years ago would likely produce different explanations but I do believe that in the end, the answers would be relatively the same.
When I first posted on GTERB I was simply a single woman with a yearning for some zest in my simple subdued life. While I loved the domesticated lifestyle, I often fantasized about stepping outside of that role but never felt safe doing so. I’ve explained in more detail in earlier posts about taking those first few steps. So I will touch on that aspect first.
Belle has, without a doubt, allowed me to be this fun, carefree woman living an otherwise conservative lifestyle. I have learned to be comfortable in my not-so-perfect body. I have learned to love my small breasts and other imperfections that I have always been almost ashamed of. What I did not expect was to gain this new found self confidence through Belle. In a world that I envisioned being all about physical attraction I feared rejection because I felt I did not fit the norm for the industry. But I went for it anyways. I have learned that men do appreciate a confident woman as much as they appreciate a physically flawless one. Men do appreciate a woman that can have a stimulating conversation and find that just as sexy as a woman wearing stilettos. Basically, I have learned that men are not as shallow as I had expected them to be and I have learned that sexy has many different meanings. So no, this industry is not what I expected.
Safety was never a concern for me. I did my research before Belle. I asked the questions I needed to ask of the agency before I signed on. There are safety calls made in and out of the meetings, drivers who come knocking if you do not make contact, girls who make one another aware of bad clients, rules about drug use and intoxication and the right to refusal if a client is threatening/unclean or simply makes a lady uncomfortable. I learned that we as SP’s have the right to say no and that at any time we can walk away. We have control over our bodies and our time and what we choose to do with both. So yes, this industry is what I had expected.
I knew going into this that there may be a day and time when my two worlds would collide. While I knew I would do all that I could to protect my personal life from being invaded by society’s perception of what I do as Belle, it may all come to a head one day, and it has. I have had to defend Belle to coworkers and personal friends but I am not ashamed. I have not tried to justify but only to ask they respect my decision to do as I do. I don’t need their approval. I don’t expect them to understand. I just ask that they accept that this is my choice. So yes, this industry is what I expected.
I am a strong person and consider myself to be well in control of my emotions. I made a pact with myself in the beginning that I would keep emotion out of Belle’s world and for several years I did. I do not let my guard down easy but over time I found myself building foundations for true friendships. I found myself opening up and allowing others in and sharing my personal life with a few that I have met as Belle. And then my writing soon followed, recognizing that it is okay to show emotion. Emotion keeps me human, keeps my spirit flowing. While I still tend to be guarded at times, I have found myself to laugh, to cry, to show fear, to be intimidated and to be humbled. I have entrusted those emotions to people I have met in Belle’s world and have felt safe doing so. So no, this industry is not what I expected.
While I started my blog out of a passion for expressing myself through the written word, I have discovered my dream to be a professional writer. It has been the support, the compliments and connections I have made through my blog that inspired me to pursue this dream. I applied for and accepted an editorial writing job with the local newspaper last year and wrote several columns for them. Sadly it was only a one year position but the response I received from those articles as well as the response from my blog has left me with a determination to publish the book I have written and see where my writing will take me. I always imagined Belle as an escape from the real world, never as the driving force behind going after my dream in the real world so no, this industry is not what I expected.
I could go on and on about ways in which this business has changed me, my life, my perspective. There is no answer to this question though as it is like many things in life. We choose a path and we know not where it leads. The expectation is that in the end, when all is said and done and we have reached the final steps we are happy. That’s all we are looking for in life. No matter what decision we have in front of us, no matter the factors that present themselves while making that decision, the ultimate goal is to have it lead us to happiness. And I am happy. So yes, this industry is what I expected.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
Monday, September 10, 2012
Wednesday, September 05, 2012
Sunday, December 26, 2010
My daughter was in an accident a few weeks ago. She was hurt but it could have been much more serious. The accident, the phone call I recieved from the officer telling me to go to the emergency room, the sight of her laying there bloody and broken made me see Christmas in a much different light this year. I was reminded just how blessed I am to have my children. Nothing else really matters. I will ache for those I love who are no longer in my life but I will focus on the ones who still are. They are my future, they will keep me going through hard times.
I hope this Christmas all of you reading found some peace, took some time out from the commercialism of Christmas to reflect on how blessed you are for all of the things you do have insteading of yearning for what you do not. Merry Christmas.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Now before you jump down my throat for saying that, take a look at my stats on my website. I am not Barbie nor do I pretend to be. I just wonder what gives these women the right to stand up in court and speak on my behalf about something they clearly know nothing about. I am tired of society telling me what I do is immoral and degrading.
I am not naieve enough to believe this will ever change. Prostitution will always exist, feminists will always exist. I just find it so frustrating to listen to them and imagine all the women of the world nodding their heads in agreement as most of their husbands snicker behind them thinking "if you only knew". No, it's not for everyone and yes, there is a very seedy side to prostitution, I won't argue that fact. Does that make it okay to not give sex-trade workers a safe place to practice? It's been hundreds of years people, women exchanging sex-for-money will never go away! Make it legal, make testing more accessible, make it clean.
I am an escort by choice. I have a full-time well paying job outside of Belle and I am not the exception to the rule. I do this because I enjoy it. Yes, the money is a bonus, I will not argue the fact but it is not a means to an end for me nor for many other sex-trade workers. I am just so tired of listening to whiney, overweight, sex deprived women tell me that what I do is wrong.
I meet with ,men who make me feel better about myself and show me more respect than most partners I have had in my personal life. Why? Because I ask for the respect. We as sex workers have a choice. If we are not comfortable with a client or his wishes, we say so. We can leave at any time, we can refuse at any time. What we do and what we do not do is our choice and ours alone to make. The only difference between our relationships with men as sex-trade workers is that we get paid for it and we do it with complete strangers. But let's face it. Have most people not had sex with a stranger? ||||||Do
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Long story short, kid snuck out in the middle of the night and I busted her. What followed was a severe grounding.....from everything! Cell phone, computer, extra-curricular sports and of course, the boyfriend who was the reason for the late-night escapade. Naturally she didn’t like that. What I didn’t expect was that she would not come home after school the next day. In fact, she informed me by text that she would never be coming home.
That text was followed by numerous others, accusing me of providing an unfit home for her to live in. Of course, this text came to me from the $350 cell phone I had just bought her the month prior. She claimed to have visited the right people and have been informed of her rights, that she was 16 and able to leave of her own accord. I did not respond as well as I did the first time she experienced alcohol. In fact, I totally bombed at being rational and mature. I demanded the house key and the cell phone and drove right then to pick them up from her. I have never been so angry at my child. Never did I think a child could do something so wrong to ever make me feel the way I did.
The days that followed were hell. She requested her things. Her things? My position was that I bought and paid for everything she left behind, therefore what things were hers? If I had my way, I would have given her nothing. My boyfriend at the time talked me into giving her the basics so the basics is what she got. Not the $300 in clothes she got for Christmas but the clothes she would never have been caught dead in public with. None-the-less, she had clothes. I provided her with the bare necessities. She asked me to drop them off, I informed her they were in bags at the curb
After meeting with her boyfriend’s parents the night prior and them being willing to take her in I made it clear they would not get any help from me, that she had a perfectly good home to be in. For them to allow her to live with them made me sick. I was not going to make this easy....for them or for her.
That week brought not one but two visits from the local police department to try and gain possession of her things. By this time I was just sick. The first time I allowed her to leave with hair products and things but made it clear that the TV, the bed and the remaining clothing was property of my home, not my daughter. Needless to say she was pissed. The second visit by the police I lost the politeness I had the previous visit. I made it clear that without a warrant they were not entering my home, something they told me I had to allow the first visit. A quick call to my lawyer made me aware of my rights. She left in tears, empty handed. As angry as I was, seeing her cry like that tore me up inside. I knew I was doing right. I knew I had to be strong and stand my ground. I had to make this tough on her if only to give her a glimpse of what the adult world is like. But the Mom in me, seeing her baby girl hurting and not reaching out to her was the toughest challenge I have had as of yet, as a parent. And she drove away.
She left behind her siblings, confused and torn, hurting just as I was. I had to be okay. I had to show them that we will be okay. And so it was. My baby gone. This was not how it was supposed to be, but as I have learned, very little in life ever is.The following eight months were spent being angry, even hateful to being hurt, back to being angry and then eventually, accepting our new relationship. It is hard to relate to your baby on an adult level. To back away from mothering and learning to being a friend. To give advice when asked and shut-up otherwise. I learned a lot about myself through this time of her being gone. Mistakes I had made, regrets I had. They are tough to face. But I did.
She came home recently and while the circumstances that brought her home are not the most favourable, she is here and she is safe. I am not so sure she learned all that I had hoped for her during her time on her own but I do think it opened her eyes some to just how much I love her, how important family is and how scary it can be when you turn your back on both.
I took a chance, I will give myself that...and I gave it all I had. Something that started out as a casual relationship quickly turned into something with prospects. And so I let Belle go. And not once did I look back. I dropped my emails, dropped the boards, dropped all that came with her. I had to know what it was like. I had to know if what lied out there for me was what I had envisioned those many nights in bed, married and unhappy. What if I left? Would I be able to love? Would I be able to be loved? And the questions I asked myself as I would put my Belle Face on. Who am I without her? Is it the same, not being her? What’s it like to have all that she has, without the situational differences that separate us two? I needed to know and so I let go.
Dating at 35 is much different than dating at 18. Things have really changed in 17 years. Ok, maybe things haven’t changed. I suppose dating as a teen today is quite similar as it was back then, but dating as an adult, a single parent is a much different experience. When I was a teen, I wore my heart on my sleeve. Sure it got broke a few times but as weeks passed by, it mended as a young heart does. By age 35 I learned just how fragile the heart really is. And after being broken time and time again not only does it take longer to mend but it becomes much harder to reach that place buried deep down inside. I learned to protect myself from being hurt, perhaps a little too well.
Time. I had all the time in the world as a teen to devote to puppy love. That was a sure sign of a successful relationship....the more time you spent together the more in love you were. Every day began with making plans, confirming plans and following through with those plans. And the next day, you made more plans for the next day, and you followed through with them. For a single mom at 35, dating means making plans for a week away, changing those plans twice through the week and more often than not, those plans would fall through as the day came. There is just not enough time. But I did give every spare minute of what little time I had. It just wasn’t enough.
Parenting. I hadn’t realized just how strong my views on parenting were until dating someone who also has children. No right or wrong here, just different parenting styles and unless you are on the same page when it comes to how you raise your children, putting them all in the same room together does not mix. Trying to not speak when it was not my place, trying to stand ground on certain beliefs without being the heavy. Trying to win in a no-win situation is a battle of its own. To put several children together of different families with different sets of rules and expect them to get along was a ridiculous idea. No, it was an insane idea! But again, I had to give it my all, and I did.
Honesty. I have always believed that honesty was the best policy. If I have nothing left to offer, I would always give my word, the truth. I lived many years in a marriage full of deceit and lies. I refused to live that life ever again. And so, as we grew closer I sat him down and we talked about Belle. Crazy, I know. But in my heart of hearts I believed this would pave the way for a healthy relationship. And I believed that for a man to truly love me he must accept me for who I am and Belle is a very big part of who I have become. The conversation was awkward, more for him than me. I made it clear I was not ashamed of my past, in fact, quite contrary to that I was rather proud. I did not get into specifics but all in all he now knew all he needed to know about Belle. Needless to say it didn’t go over so well. Actually, he took it very well, assured me that it didn’t change the way he felt about me and that he could handle it. Ten months later it was clear he couldn’t....but I cannot fault him for that. Question is, can anyone accept that of his woman, his wife? Can a man be expected to accept such a past and let it go, to have it never come between his relationship with the woman he loves? I don’t suppose so.
And for those reasons, I have tried, tested and proven true to my previous post that yes, I WILL be the woman with 40 cats.
But I am okay with that now. I now know what I must sacrifice not to become that woman and it’s not a sacrifice I am willing to make.
I get home from work 6 hours early tonight to prepare for a long day in Toronto tomorrow with my girls. I need a good nights sleep. My teen is up at her computer, no surprise. I tell her I'm glad I am home early to send her to bed but know it's unlikely because she spent all damn day sleeping since coming home from a girlfriend's house at 11am. She sits on the chair next to me as I fire up my laptop. This seating arrangement is never good. When a teen leaves the computer to sit next to you, it's serious. And then she says.....
"I wasn't sure if I was going to tell you this but....."
One sentence. If I had one thought I had one thousand before she carried on. Sex? Drugs? Sex? Smoking? Drinking? Sex? My heart raced, I typed my password into the box to unlock my laptop and no matter how hard I tried, could not find it in me to look at her. "You're a lesbian?" I said jokingly, trying to keep the air light. Please say yes, I thought. I can handle a gay daughter. Hell, I'd pat her on the back if that were the case. Unfortunately I was her age not so long ago. (Hold back the laughter, I'm not in a joking mood right now!)
She spent last night drinking in the rain, sitting on a blanket in a backyard while her girlfriend's parents slept. First I was angry at the parents. Why the f*** isn't that shit locked up with teenagers in the house? Then I was glad it wasn't me being the ignorant parent sound asleep while someone else's daughter was getting drunk in my home. She said something about 3 shots of straight vodka, a shot of rum and a glass of white wine. My stomach tuned on the inside but I just sat there clicking links on my Google page looking rather unphased by what she was telling me. Then she got to the best part of the story....she puked....and puked.....and puked! Then came the promise to never drink again. I remember uttering those same words....just a few weeks ago.
I told her I was glad she chose to do it at a place where adults were around in case she needed them as opposed to walking the streets in a drunken stupor. I told her I was her age once, I knew this was coming. I told her vodka was the worst to drink straight, that her blurry vision and headache was called a hangover and that it was God's punishment for being so damn stupid. And I told her I was glad she puked and then took back the sympathy I gave her earlier about being all bruised up. I thought the bruises were from an intense cheerleading practice earlier in the day, she informed me that she remembered falling down in the bathroom, bedroom, living room and front porch. I seriously considered adding a bruise or two myself, but I didn't show it.
First and formost I would like to thank Belle who gave me the strength to pretend I am something I am not. Without her I would not have known how to appear calm in stressful situations. Without her I would not have known how to smile when I wanted to cry, whisper when I wanted to scream, hold a steady hand when my entire being was shaken to the core.
Thank you to the fellow nominees I find myself in company with. I am not so sure I deserved the oscar for "best supporting actress" any more than the rest of you so I accept it on behalf of all mothers out there who have survived parenthood. One last comment before I leave the stage....to those parents out there that let their kids live to see their 16th birthday........HOW THE F*** DID YOU DO IT?????
I am going to be honest here. Yes, I know she is 15. yes, I know teens do this sort of thing. Yes, I was 15 once too. But no, I was not prepared for it. I thought I was. I've played it out in my mind. But not any more prepared for this than I will be the day it turns to drugs or sex. I am so not cut out for this job. I didn't sign up for this shit and I'm not as fucking strong as everyone seems to think I am. And dammit.....where is her fucking father right now? She is ok. She is sound asleep in her bed. i know, I just checked on her. And there lay my baby. Am I crazy for wanting her to stay my baby? I hear other parents talk about this with their own children. They laugh, they somehow find it funny. I am truly sick over it and can't stop myself from crying. I am not ready for this. She is not ready. I am not ready.
First and foremost the biggest change this year has been me leaving the escorting industry. I know, I've said that before. But this time it was and is, final. It wasn't a tough decision really, I knew it was time. Not that I wasn't having a good time, not that I wasn't welcome but that I found myself ready for the next step. I wasn't sure what that was, I still am not so sure but I am ready for whatever that may be. In all honesty, keeping my life as Belle discreet was becoming impossible. My children are growing older and with that comes the fact that they are becoming more aware of a life outside of themselves. Explanations were difficult, time was limited and they have now reached an age where Mom needs to be at home with them. And what a wonderful place to be.
March was an exciting month with the airing of the documentary I participated in with DOCTV. A blog entry will be following this post soon giving all the details so I won't go into it here save to say I do not see an acting career in my future, I think I will stick to my writing.
I left my husband. I know, I've said that before. But this time it was and is....final. More posts on that to follow as well. Let's just say it was a good thing I did not have my blog to post to during the first few months of this transition. Now, about 8 months later, I am able to write with some objectivity. Not always, I still have my moments.
A new part of my life will enter my blog following this post.....dating. Ugh. Just reading that takes me through some dreadful memories. Good times, not so good times. Needless to say it is not quite the experience I thought it would be so far. I'm assuming it gets better....right? Be ready for some more "Belle is venting, Duck!" posts, as well as my "Oath to thy self" post. Interesting reads I can assure you.
I will end this by saying how truly grateful I am to all of you for your support and emails while my blog was offline. Even though I write simply to get things off my chest, knowing that others are reading, that someone cares what I have to say and moreso, that someone misses sharing my experiences and reading the things I write here means so much to me. I have missed the banter we shared here and hope we can pick up where we left off.