GUEST POST: The Pain of Healing

GUEST POST: The Pain of Healing

Today I am somewhere along the Pacific Coast Highway, meandering along, stopping to see glorious views, visiting tide pools, and hopefully spotting some seal pups!

It’s my second day of sharing guest posts on my feed. Today’s post is by @HiThereCatsuit on FetLife, the creator and host of What Women and other wonderful humans Want podcast (https://wwwpodcast.datingkinky.com/).

He’s been writing his journey over the past few years, and sometimes I’m simply left in wonder.

When I asked him what he wanted to share more widely to the world, this is the piece he chose, and I think he chose perfectly.

The Pain of Healing

I have so many things to say, I don’t know where to start. For a writer this can be a problem because the connections and loose ends are all in disarray, and the theme of the writing can be so difficult to pin down. Especially the way I write, which is like a faucet. Open up the mind, and let it all flow out.

Today, I sit in my apartment fulfilled but desiring more. It is the dangerous line I tread because the lack of kink in my life over such a long period makes me feel I have so much to fit in now. The reality is, that what I am trying to do is heal so many years of pain and I look down and see the scars of what was and wondering why they don’t heal.

This goes for my real life as well, the one that never thought he was good enough even when people handed him awards for being the best.

There is a lot to heal, and on Friday, it began in earnest.

We had a super busy day at work, and in a new role as supervisor, I saw that our team was totally overwhelmed by the sheer number of customers that were waiting for us to help them. I sat there feeling helpless that I couldn’t contribute to ease their pain. Suddenly, I had the thought. Was it possible that I could go back to my old job for a couple of hours and help them clear the queue as we call it? I went to my boss and told her that our agents were not making progress on getting the number of callers down, and could I do something about it by getting on the phones myself. She smiled and said, “absolutely.” So there I went, doing the job I had been promoted from and within a couple of hours, I helped the team bring the amount of callers from 110 waiting to just 16. When I got back to my desk, I received an email saying my boss had nominated me for an award for what I had done. I just thought doing the right thing was important.

With the glow of that, I drove north to see my Queen for a party with my old kink fam. She knew this day was going to be difficult for me and planned a scene to help me get out of my head. You see, this day would have been my 25th Wedding Anniversary. It is one of those anniversaries one dreams about, but one I had been cheated out of. The last 15 years of those 25 were full of emotional abuse, lack of intimacy, and overall shaming of the man I was so that I was reduced to an ATM of money and responsibility.

My Queen knows my pain. She feels my pain with me. She knows the pain that needs to be inflicted so that the pain in the gut goes away.

It all began with a kiss. A simple gesture of togetherness. The crowned Queen and the hooded Catsuit. The darkness overwhelming me, looking to be brought into the light.

The details fail me, as from there, a series of implements were used on me. One blending into the other, from little ones to big ones to stingy ones to the ones that make me growl and then yell.

My tights, which hold me in my safe place were ripped from my body and in their place, canes and other instruments of torture were rhythmically hit on my thighs, my chest and the outsides of my legs. It fucking hurt.

It was at this time, my head filled. I can’t really describe it, but it was as though a headache was coming on, but it did not hurt. It was as though someone opened my head and filled it with liquid and my mind went blank. I could still feel the pain, but I could not hear the other things around me. It was just me and my Queen and the intense feeling of my nerves heightened from the strikes of my sadistic partner’s cane.

Inside my hood. Tears. I couldn’t stop crying. It was not from the pain, it was from the beauty. It was from the emotions of a quarter a century, and nearly half my life all coming out. My screams of pain release the agony of my heart. The bruises mending my heart. I could not stop crying, but because my hood covered the watery eyes, it wasn’t apparent. Yet, through the hood, my Queen knew, and just hit harder.

In the end, I was released and held. I was safe from my internal pain. Catharsis had taken place. My Queen, the one who loves me, allowed me to feel loved again.

For those who are reading me for the first time, many would say, “why of course you feel love, it’s YOUR QUEEN?!?!”

My Queen is my love. We share love simply and simply love. We are not partners in life, but we are partners in our souls. We love deeply, and unconditionally. Yet, our greatest wish is for the other to find the partner that makes them feel loved 24/7/365. Many don’t understand our love, and wonder why we aren’t each other’s partners. The reason is simple. As a man of my age, and a woman of her age, it would be so selfish of me to take the possibility of all the things she has in her future away from her. We are romantically platonic. We are platonically romantic. We kiss. We hug. We tease, but our love is reserved for the soul and not the privates. We love each other’s heart. It is the most beautiful love I have ever felt. One without expectations and one that I know is always there. She is my Queen, and I shall forever be her Knight… standing by her, and being there for her, no matter where my odyssey take me. And she will forever live in my heart, and does every day. She is the first thing I think about in the morning and the last person I think about as I fall into slumber. And at the time when she finds what she genuinely needs or I find someone who can hug me every day and love me without conditions, we will STILL love each other, because it is that kind of bond, and for our future partners, we will remain the non negotiables for each other.

I am having trouble seeing my screen through my tears now. Our love is that powerful.

I drove home through some severe storms because I had to work the next day. It was not at my regular work, but rather at one of my old media jobs. For just one night, I would step back into my old world, the one of so many nights and weekends, that I forgot to live. As it turns out, I am still pretty good at what I do, and created an atmosphere where every member of the crew felt appreciated for all the hard work they do. It was showing love to them that I am not sure they had felt with the person who usually sits in the chair I occupied. At the end, I realized that I still loved the work, but I did not crave it or miss it where I would want to go back to it full time again. On my desk at work sits an Emmy Award from one of my shows. On the move back here from Cleveland, one of the wings on it broke. I put it on my desk to remind me that I was once considered the best in my business, but the broken wing symbolizes that in doing that, it broke me. It’s a reminder to never feel that way again and to live my best life.

So many years of pain, and the healing is finally starting to feel real. My life is at a point where my love, empathy and kindness is being recognized for what it is rather than what my wife used to call “a desperate cry for attention.” Yes, that was what she told the therapist when she was asked what it was like when I tried to be intimate with her.

There is so much more to do when it comes to healing my heart and soul, but with my Queen by my side (even though she is 100 miles away), a group of wonderful friends in my life, a kink family old, a new kink family developing, and a job where I can show that when you approach work with kindness and love, the world can be better, I have the opportunity to heal. And suddenly, the pain inflicted is pain I want to feel, not something I have to run away from.

And as I close the faucet to the words shared, please know that loving does not have limits. It is not a finite thing that can only be shared with one. It is about giving your whole self to every person you care about. There is no taking love from one to feed another. We all are in this beautiful ocean of love if we allow ourselves to be. I choose to swim.

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What are your thoughts?

Is kink a powerful force of healing for you? In what ways?

What emotions have beens stirred for you during kink scenes? Have you cried, not from pain but from release, or healing, or catharsis, or even joy?

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