Since returning from France, I’ve had a rough Couple weeks. It appears the Universe would like me deal with any and all unfinished business I have in my life, because the past has been popping up incessantly to smack me in the face.

Some of it is good. A number of callers from before I took my hiatus from Phone Sex have stumbled back across me randomly, and it has been lovely reconnecting with them. I’ve been in contact with a couple of old friends I had lost touch with. I’m also feeling more inspired to write in general, my creative juices flowing again.

After a necessary break from the local kink scene, sadomasochism is seeping back into the corners of my mind. I’m making an effort to get out to munches, play parties, and other events, and my private play with J has ramped back up. We’ve both been so distracted with work and life admin, and it’s nice to have that facet of our connection sparking again.

But overall, I’ve been feeling something scary bubbling just under the surface. It started in the wake of the Harvey Weinstein scandal, and built to a crescendo in the subsequent #MeToo movement. There was something I hadn’t dealt with, and I couldn’t ignore it any longer.

So this week I finally confronted a former partner about a consent violation that happened very early on in our 3 years together. It set the tone for our relationship, one in which I felt unable to request boundaries, stand up for myself, or negotiate my needs getting met.

His response was the only acceptable one there is: a specific apology, acknowledgement of how it affected me, zero defense or justification, asking me how I’d like to handle it if/when we encounter each other in social situations, which we do on occasion. And on one level I’m relieved. I don’t really think there’s a better outcome to be had in these situations. But I’m also so mad. Why couldn’t he be this decent to me back then? I want to rage without thinking, “but he said all the right things, he’s not a bad person.”

I’ve been emotionally flooding since our email exchange, as if I’m processing three years of sub drop in three days. My body is a mess. I’m realizing how much pain I locked away in my sinews and bones and how profoundly this hurt me. The day after we communicated, I found myself pretty wrecked~ crying, shaking, big waves of emotion crashing over me. I just needed…something. So I did what I almost never do and posted on Facebook asking for people to say nice things about me.

And…WHOA. Talk about a lesson in asking for what you want and need. I was overwhelmed with a barrage of comments that had me sobbing even harder. But these were tears of gratitude, appreciation, and relief, not anger, regret, or mourning. And because I’m working hard on radical self love, I want to share what I Learned about myself and how others see me. The recurring themes…

I am generous, selfless, thoughtful, compassionate, and kind. I have a “big heart.” Yes. Being service oriented, nothing makes me feel more fulfilled than knowing something I’ve said or done has made someone happy or improved their life in some way.

I am smart, talented, and creative. People hold my artistic endeavors in high regard. My confidence, assertiveness, integrity, and resiliency are inspiring. I’m perceived as brave and courageous, and “strength” was the single word that came up the most often. “Amazing” was second.

I am admired for my authenticity, openness, vulnerability, honesty, and willingness to be present. People think I am beautiful, which is appreciated but less important to me than the fact that they also think I’m fun, have a great sense of humor, and enjoy spending time with me.

But what really struck me was how many folks expressed that I had affected their lives in little ways that I never knew about, that I helped make them a better person and the world a better place. Often they had stories about instances in which I gave my time to someone I didn’t know very well or had little to gain from, and how that small act of kindness changed their lives and set them on new paths. They told me that my encouragement and belief in them had a profound effect on their lives. This, more than anything else, made my heart burst open with love and gratitude.

It’s very hard for me to receive. I’m a giver; being of service is where I find my bliss, and it’s why phone sex is personally gratifying as well as financially lucrative for me. But sometimes, I have nothing left to give. Sometimes, I need. It’s difficult for me to ask, but I’m getting better at it.

To everyone who reached out to me, thank you so very much. You reminded me of something I had lost sight of, something the relationship I mentioned at the beginning of this post had obscured: that it’s ok for me to ask for what I need. I’m going to be doing more of that from now on.