My love for the Slowly app was just about making friends, at least until it wasn’t.
Disclaimer: Although nothing in this post is sexual, it contains details of my life, banter and conversations that happen within a self-described 24/7 D/s dynamic and is aimed at normalising and providing acceptance of those of us who choose to live this way. For further reading on my decision not to provide an adult content disclaimer on my non-sexual posts, please see my post “LGBTQ+K: A Case For “Kinky” As A Sexuality“. Thank you.
I didn’t write yesterday. In part, it was by accident, and in part, it was also by design.
I started yesterday’s post with all good intentions and yet by number four of my Top Ten movies, I was done. I was exasperated, tired, sore… possibly even maybe a little bit fed up of the process. Maybe I should just stop? Give up? Quit?
Maybe blogging isn’t meant for me…
As of late, the journalistic posts have been fun, but the writing every day and editing my SEOs through Yoast? Exhausting!
To be honest – and I have to be because that it is the only way that I have ever been on my blog – my living conditions at the moment are dire. I have overflowing bins, I have mucky countertops, I have a bathroom that needs scrubbing, I have letters that still haven’t been written and I have a unit that will need assembling today. My wrists are also sore and could really do with a rest. I love blogging and I give every ounce of me to my blog, but it’s not without it’s consequences, most of which impact my health or my family’s health in some way, and that’s not fair.
So as much as it pains me, I have to go back to three or four days per week. It’s not by choice, it’s that I have to, and that starts today.
I think, by now, I’m also about done with the water-only bathing, and that’s a sentiment that has slowly been creeping up on me for the past few weeks. It’s been a fun experiment and very interesting at times, but has it worked overall? I’m not completely sold. I think in terms of keeping body odour down then it’s astounding and as a quick fix on busy days then it works miracles, but my scalp still feels dry, my hair has probably only improved for better care and the rest of me doesn’t look or feel all that different to how it did when I was using Dove. Maybe I shamelessly miss my bubbles and I love that little bit of indulgence, after all. I will get a final write-up done, though that probably won’t be this week because I have family commitments tomorrow.
I do still have British snacks and ideas to go up, and they will all happen with time. For now though, I need to slow down, I need to allow myself time to relax, I need to allow myself time to recover and time to do other things. Cramming will lead to poor posting, and I don’t want that.
So, what else has been new in my life?
Well, as if I wasn’t glutton for punishment enough by blogging everyday, I’m also a regular user of the penpal app, Slowly. I love writing with people, I love learning about people, I love connecting with people.
As a rule these days, when a letter comes in, I beg for it not to be personalised. A personalised letter means the person took the time to reach out to me personally instead of sending a mass letter using Slowly’s ‘Auto-match’ feature. Mass letters I send straight to the bin, but personalised letters warrant a read at least and, sometimes, even a reply. As much as I love the connections, time is finite and so I have to be a little bit select.
When I saw a letter coming in from another part of the United Kingdom, I began to fret a little bit. After all, I’m a busy girl!
Please don’t be personalised, please don’t be personalised, please don’t be –
The first thing that stood out to me from WIll’s Slowly letter was his energy, the second thing was that he’s from my second-biggest love, Cornwall, and the third thing was those four words in his bio – likes to take control.
Oh hey, we probably both speak a language that the other understands.
I tried to dodge the topic and not over-assume, taking control could be a very general thing. A Type A personality, perhaps? Someone a little like me. Of course my mind was pure filth, but it didn’t have to mean that, not really.
I’ve always been a little bit judgemental of people finding love online. Perhaps, ever since my online relationship in 2005, I’ve always been of the opinion that long-distance relationships simply do not work. People throw themselves into these connections, they invest time into these online romances and commit themselves to a person from faraway lands that, realistically, they are probably never going to meet. No, these days it all seemed a little bit sad and desperate to me. Slowly seems to promote it somewhat and yet, finding love is not what the app is really about. Connecting with people is, starting a long-distance relationship is not. One of the app’s rules even states that it is against the rules to flirt without consent of the other party so in a way, by sharing stories of developed relationships, the developers encouraging users to break the rules.
By Day Four, Will and I had established that we both very much have a connection, that we both understand one another, and I was even eagerly awaiting hearing from him again on Slowly: This is new.
On Day Four, we also moved our long letters away from Slowly and onto Kik, where we have been chatting since. There is a connection there, it’s real and it’s undeniable. We’re both idiots, we’re both realists, we’re both deep, sensitive souls and we both love to laugh. We’ve had as many deep and serious moments as we have had silly and goofy ones, and you know what? That’s okay. We’re not rushing, we’re talking, sharing, discovering and just generally taking our time. Where it lands up from here will be anyone’s guess, but that too is part of the fun.
I was always terrified that if I had a Dom, they would try and strip me of my sense of humour, I explained.
Oh no, I could never do that. That’s how you break a slave, Will replied. His little frightened face emoji told me that the very idea was concerning for him, too.
I knew then that I’d found a good one, a right one, a decent one. I knew then that I’d found me what I’d wanted. I found me a keeper.
Polyamory is not a fuckfest, I explained to Will. True to my word, it’s not. Bill and I have had feelings towards one another for several years now but we’ve never seen one another naked, much less have we ever shared the same bed. I have already submitted to Will because I like him and I respect him, though we have already cleared up some of the main will or won’t do’s, l such as sending nudes. . It wasn’t an agreement as such, it happened more naturally. Assumed perhaps, but not in an obnoxious way.
Who knew that my love for Slowly could ever lead to this?
I’d always known that I was polyamorous, and in talking to Will about polyamory, he also taught me that polyamory is linguistically wrong. It’s polyphilia or multi-amory, but not a mix of the two, not technically.
I played with the former for a while, annunciating each syllable – pol-ee-phil-i-a. I liked that, it almost rolled off of the tip of tongue. What would that make me then? A polyphiliac? It sounded a bit medical, but I’ll take it.
Perhaps the most bizarre thing is that now, my little poly heart feels full. It feels as though it beats softer, lighter, happier – complete. I have three great men in my life, all connected in various ways and with varying levels of my submission. I don’t love one more than the other, I love them for who they are and the connections that I have with all of them. Each in their own way, they all meet a part of me.