A letter to all my selves

13May15

indigo letter1 indigo letter2 indigo-signature-bannerI have encountered a lot of woman at the stages I have been at, as though they are on the road I have travelled, the women are resting with tired feet and dusty clothes. I listen to them and hear every word I have said myself at their stage. It made me see a pattern in this for some of us. So I wrote this:.

indigo letter4At sixteen- you don’t understand any of this, do you? You look at the prefects at school with such longing. Why is that do you think? I am not teasing you, I just don’t want to ruin this for you, this gradual unveiling of who you are.

I am glad you do not understand yourself yet. I know you and you would hurl yourself into danger with an inappropriate man who would take advantage of a young girl. It is better that you wait. You hate to be told that you are too young but you are and if you learn too much now you will never be young again.

You rage an awful lot. You are surprised I know about this because you hide it so well. But you rage at authority, at kindness, at intimacy and at so many other things you have no name for. That rage you have is connected to those urges that will not let you sleep. You don’t like it when you are told what to do, do you? You respond so strongly when you are almost in trouble that it terrifies the masters at school. You know they cane girls, don’t you? You spend your life sailing so close to getting into trouble that it amazes you that you always win. You hate winning- you did not realise that and you don’t like that I said it. Don’t sulk. It doesn’t matter yet and when it does matter you won’t have to win.

indigo letter5Those daydreams are all following a pattern now, aren’t they? You misbehave, you do something shocking you get caught, you try to cunning your way out of it and sometimes you win and sometimes you lose and you get … you get … you don’t quite know what happens next do you? Just once the thought of spanking popped into your head as you day dreamed and you opened your eyes in shock. You laid there looking at the night for a long time, doing your best to forget and remember what had just happened.

You scour all those rude books. You look for hints of spankings and men who are in charge and throw the women they love over their shoulders as they stride off into the sunset. I know your secrets and it is ok, I will not tell anyone. It is ok that you find the spanking and you throw the book against the wall. It is ok you sneak back over to it to re-read and re-read. You are not bad, don’t be ashamed of yourself.

You spend your whole life in secrets and lies, an utter rebellion against nothing. This is not for nothing, I promise you. You will understand so much later that this tentative start is all worth it. I promise.

At twenty four-I wish I could comfort you. Your urges are strong now, they feel too strong for you to control, like you are on a panicked horse. You have started to explore. Some of those adventures have been amazing, some tawdry. But it is a secret still. Everything feels like a quest, like an adventure that you will lead you to the magical kingdom of answers but you never get them.

You have known some men who were unkind, some wrong men. You are starting to learn that unkind or uncommunicative is not dominance. Do you know the word ‘dominance’ yet? Have you learned it? Do you understand what it means? You don’t yet but you will.

You are starting to write, and you show your writings to just one man. You deliver your writings and yourself to him on a platter. You have no idea what you are worth. You suspect it is nothing. You suspect you are the worst of all things. You are a pervert but consequences be damned you will live your life as a whole or be killed trying. You think it will kill you, this hunt for what you need. But you will not stop.

If unkind is not dominant then kind must be dominant. That is what you learn- it is a hard lesson and a poor conclusion.

At thirty- this is fear isn’t it? Proper cold fear that keeps you awake at night. This is as bad as you ever thought it could be. I know you loathe yourself and you would strip this part of you away from yourself if only you could. You can’t, honey. I am so sorry. You can’t.

Your heart thuds the whole time, it does not beat. You still want to rip your life down and throw it away because that is the chance that you can ever get what you need.

How you loathe yourself. You are loved and adored. You have so much. You are given everything you want by a kind man, the kindest man on earth who encourages you to have adventures as he loves you and will not, cannot give you what you need. You try so hard not to want.

But like Cathy at the window your desires, your needs, your own self, scratches to be let in and no longer denied and, like Cathy, your penchant for self destruction is about to bring the whole house down.

You write now but every word is a last will and testament. It is the sound of your death knell. You spend your life seeing the death of those you love in your dreams. It makes you wretched and you weep constantly.  You know the only way you can be free is if everyone that loves you dies.

indigo letter3I know it separates you from all morality, from spirituality, from your family and friends. You feel like the worst kind of hypocrite, you cannot find your people. You try so often to bring your needs into your life. You beg the kind man and he says he will but later. He said he will but tomorrow. He says he was just about to but now you have asked and so he cannot. He said you are too hard to spank. You know it is true. You know it has always been true.

If you leave him the world will hate you. He is your best friend. He is a wonderful man. You will never find another like him. This is all your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your choices are a noose around your neck and you call yourself an ungrateful bitch every time you breathe out.

But you know the truth, or you think you do. You are so vile, so unmanageable, and so devoid of soul that no man could ever lead you let alone love you for what you are.

You know that if you were better you would not have these feelings. You know if you were better someone could have those feelings for you.

You take risks you ought not to. You do what you can to destroy your life and then look at the ruins you made and wonder why it has all gone so wrong.

And now

You did all the unthinkable things.

You still sometimes stop in the middle of walking or talking or breathing and wonder at what you did. You have left your old life. You left the man that loved you when you realised that he wanted you to, and that neither of you were happy in the ruins.

You changed everything, location, house, job and name- all to show it would not be like before. The fear and the horror of it, stepping off into the void, kept you awake for months. It seemed the only choice by the end though, the only thing you could do, not so much bravery as the choice to live rather than die. Your heart would not stop beating. You willed it to but it would not. You had no choice but to live.

Spirituality, that uneasy word keeps at you. You are part of this world, no one can deny it. Your body is part of this world, capable of pleasure and pain and you learn through both. You still struggle with the depth and height your sexual pleasure and submission can reach, you still feel the shame of it. You were always something old fashioned, and still something connected to the world. You are still. You are no better or worse than anyone or any creature. You know, if you allow it to, that deep understanding will come to you in time. All those ancient books you studied, all those wisdoms are starting to come back to you and to include all of you in their meaning, not just the scholar in you but the girl, the woman, the sexual being, and the submissive being.

Not a pervert- other people adore the word but for you it means ‘bad’, ‘wrong’ and ‘harmful.’ You are finding the words you are happy to use for yourself and this self acceptance helps you to accept others. You can toast another person’s use of the word ‘pervert’ and wish him every joy.

You can smile at the girl that shows her herself in ways you would never dare, seeing her pleasure in it, understanding the wide variation in nature and sexuality and accepting your place in the myriad of colours.

Your self is yours, not a kink, not an oddity, just a girl living as she must. You are learning to forgive yourself and see the meaning in who you are.

You can accept the trials along the way. The trials to submit, to accept criticism of others where it is valid and to ignore it where it is not, the patience as the man you follow learns his craft as you learn yours- all of these are part of this journey. There is no end, no moment when it is done.

You are writing this on a boat and trying to ignore the metaphor. He steers the boat as you ponder, he reminds you of Arjuna and his chariot, the struggle for control against worldly problems and against perceptions of the mind. He loves you and love him. He knows all of you and he has searched for you just as you have searched for him. You let your fingertips dip into the water as he glides you along it.

You watch the river go past knowing that he knows the route to take you don’t notice the forks and bends, instead you look up and watch the birds nesting along the banks.

We can never stop on this journey. It is all the river, water flowing from one place to another. The sixteen year old, the twenty-four year old, the thirty year old and the future you as you reach forty and beyond. You are all the same person. You cannot leave the river. It will never stop flowing.

All is as it should be. Let it flow.

indigo letter7

 



10 Responses to “A letter to all my selves”

  1. 1 MrJ

    Thank you so much for sharing, Indigo,.
    A very enlightening – informative, insightful, inspiring – reading in many respects.
    I think a well-developed capacity for truly deep self-reflection is a great asset – and may be a great burden; there is a fine line between helping oneself and being – unjustified and unproductively – too hard on oneself. Keeping the balance right requires so much more than great intellectual gifts, including, indeed, a capacity to sense the spiritual dimension of life, as well as being loved, including by oneself.
    Life is beautiful when we follow our deepest desires; and most beautiful when we find ways to truly satisfy them.
    That’s all for here and now,

  2. I read this with my heart in my throat, my heart deep in my belly, my heart in my toes. I am glad to find you on a boat in the end, sailing with a sure skipper, a willing captain. Let the river flow. Xo

  3. 3 Kat

    This is a comfort to me, like the weight of my favorite blanket, candles, and pillows ‘just so’. Thank you

  4. 4 paul1510

    Indigo,
    this is beautiful, thank you.

  5. 6 Svetlana

    I’m smiling. I believe that’s because I see a girl that shows herself in ways I have never dared … and because I see her pleasure in it.

  6. 7 Kia

    This feels like a letter from an old friend, one who knows me very well and is patient and kind as I struggle towards the same awareness. Thank you for sharing this, you words have always captivated me, and continue to do so every week.

  7. 8 Lily

    Thank you for sharing your journey in such fascinating words.

  8. 9 DJ

    Hi All,

    I loved this too – thanks for all your kind words … Indigo thanks you too – she may even steal my log in again. 🙂

  9. 10 George

    Lovely


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