I felt the same way last year around this time, maybe it’s a hibernation thing: the urge to experience my adventures without blogging all of the details right away. I’m going to keep posting and writing, but I think I’d like to keep some things to myself for a while. Processing all of the emotions and details of scenes with you has been productive and fun, but at the moment I feel protective of my experiences, like I need a little more time and space to take them in. Transparency is a wonderful thing, but one-sided super-transparency is quite a leap and a little too vulnerable for where I am at the moment.
I feel so deeply grateful to those who have opened themselves up to being written about. It’s been so generous and trusting, and I’m sure I’ll ask it of them (and of myself) again in the future.
I’m curious to see what will happen if I let my feelings develop without giving everyone involved access to them, if I let my mistakes go undocumented for a while.
Maybe it’s the new bed or the excellence of my time with Mr. Sweetface last weekend, but I’m having a taste for private play as well. This is not to say I won’t play publicly a million more times or on New Year’s Eve, but there’s something about the safety and comfort of home, of bed. I want to explore that for a while and see where it goes. Playing privately seems like a nice way to let in some more (or just a different kind of) intimacy and affection, to make room for more expression and trust. Just another way to practice, to get my feet under me for whatever adventures come next.