About

The Ever-Evolving Toy

Close up head shot of women with blonde hair leaning on her hand

Where do I start talking about me?  I started this blog because my friend, lover and (first and only) Dom told me I write “good smut” and thought I should share with other people.   Most of my erotic writing was about he and I.  I wasn’t sure I was creative outside of that, but I started the blog, deciding I would just write about us.  Three weeks to a month after I started it, he left me. Best friend, a lover, Dom, gone.  In one text from his phone, my life was changed. The next day I logged on to the blog with the name he gave me intending to bring it down.   How obvious it was that I was new to the blogging game.  There were no archives, only a few stories, no pictures and a lot of blank spaces.  I saw the stories and joys of being his friend, his lover, his submissive.  Tears running down my face, I commenced to deleting everything and tearing down my new project before it even started.  Then I saw a post I had written just before the breakup.

He completes me.     More Than a Memory

I closed the laptop.  Somewhere between the thirteenth Kleenex and the third round of wracking sobs, I heard these words from I can only assume, the universe…

‘Don’t take it down because he left you.  Make it better than you imagined in spite of the fact he left you.’  

That was a year ago.

Here I am.

 

I am a submissive/baby girl – Finding my sexuality late in life is both a blessing and a curse.  It feels amazing to finally know who I am and what I want and be able to articulate that to my partners.  This didn’t come easily.  It is difficult as a mature woman to gather all your thoughts and excitement and strip away the insecurities and move forward how you want.  Scared with the past, the curse is the lessons learned are often hard to implement.  Then, find your way and feeling strong and confident and losing the one thing you attached to that strength and confidence.  So much wasted time on feeling less than and hiding my true self.  I struggle now to know who I am without Him.  Were my thoughts and desires based on my love for him?  He helped me find a part of me that I had suppressed for my entire life.  Perhaps he opened the door that allowed me to grow and find myself.  Perhaps that was his only purpose and that is why I am now on my own.  His leaving devastated me, and he took my trust with him.  I am giving myself time to figure it out and trying to be patient and kind to myself.  I miss every part of him, even the part I didn’t like because that made him who he was to me.  I still want him.  Every night, every day, every little thing that happens good or bad, I want to share with him.  I will recover.  Until then, I will learn to balance my memories of him and my sadness of his no longer being in my life in any role he played in it.  I miss his dominance, his control, his soft gentle touch after a harsh one.  I miss my friend that I watched the news with, watched him play video games, went on motorcycle rides with, sang with.  I miss cuddling, holding hands in the car, grocery shopping and dancing and singing to their music, making everyone look, stare, laugh, and wish they were us.   I miss all of him.

I want to be reckless      The Gift of Being his Toy    I fear I have ruined you

 

 I am a woman – with all my titles and the hats I wear I always need to remind myself that I am, on my own with no one else, a woman.  Labels have always bothered me and categories that we must fit neatly into are never really a perfect fit.  Taking time for myself to remember that I need love from myself as much or more than others need love from me is always a forced practice.  I have the vocabulary of a sailor (that I still filter when in the presence of my mother).  When you see the word Fuck in a post, it isn’t gratuitous because we are talking about sex.  It’s just me.   I am a country girl with a beach addiction.  If I lived on the beach and had horses in the backyard that would be close to perfection.  I think Miranda Lambert and I are soul sisters.  Her songs speak to me like few others.  She is the writer of songs that I would love to be of anything.  I relate to so much of her songs and writings but the two most recent, Vice and Tin Man, spoke to my soul at a time I needed to know others felt it too.

Beach lessons, Sunday morning thoughts.    Miranda Lambert – Vice     Miranda Lambert – Tin Man

 

I am a mother –   I was never really sure I wanted to be a mom.  Then I had my daughter.  She changed everything.  I’ve written about her struggles but writing about her love and how she makes me feel is something I should do more of.  Sometimes I don’t feel worthy of her love.  I made a lot of mistakes and she has dealt with those consequences.  But she always reminds me that our love is unconditional.  I simply fucking love being her mother. When my daughter was about 4 years old, Trisha Yearwood released How do I Live Without You.  It was a love song in a movie, but at that time in my life, it spoke to my relationship with my daughter.  I would sing it to her every night before she fell asleep.  As she got older we would sing it together, setting up the duet perfectly and performing for each other on long car rides.  When she was a teenager, out with friends doing what teenagers do, she sent me a text with the lyrics of the song and said she heard the song and thought of me.  Mom’s life was made that night.  To this day, when it comes on we listen, we sing, and we cry because it means so much more now than then as the years have shown us that we truly don’t know what we would do without each other.

Unexpected Love notes.    Moving back in with Mom!     One More Time.    How do I Live Without You

 

I am a creative writer – I have always enjoyed all kinds of writing.  I use to write people’s bio’s and even wrote someone’s life story once.  I enjoy being able to help others tell their stories, real or imagined.  Writing has always been one of my forms of therapy.  From the time I could hold a pen I was writing things down.  I have several journals that were started and never finished.  As I read through them now I realize I wasn’t always completely honest in them for fear someone would read them.  That has changed substantially as now my thoughts are out there for all to see.  I have to admit, I like it that way much better than hiding my thoughts.  Hiding your thoughts essentially means you are hiding your true self.  That is a very sad way to live.  Writing about myself is hard but it is getting easier.

Pen and Paper.    Creative Writings from Toy – Poems and Love Letters

 

I am a sex toy/product reviewer – I am new to this.  I actually found this way more difficult than I thought it would be.  I hope to do this responsibility justice and look forward to the opportunity to share with everyone

Toy’s Toy Review – Satisfyer Pro Penguin