i fukin love yu

“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.” ~ Lao Tzu

I have been sitting on this post for over a month now. Usually, when I write, it is about things, feelings and events that I have already processed somehow and that have settled in my heart and my mind in some way - things that I understand and that I got closure, in a way. Writing about them then, isn’t that difficult. This time, however, life stuff has been feeling like an ongoing thing, a wave after wave, and I haven’t been able to just sit, finish it and post it. It certainly feels like it’s not going to be fully completed for a while anyways, and with that in mind, I have decided to simply send out this post without expectations and with acceptance of what is.

Everything I want to say right now seems so crazy in my mind. It’s been like a sea at storm in there - strong winds and heavy rain, waves churning the water, flooding... I just want to be stopped. I want all of this to stop. I want to feel peace and calm, and get a fucking breather. I also want to be owned, led and directed by someone. I want to be owned because I want to be captured and constricted by someone. I want to be told what to do and when to do it, I want clear directions, I don’t want to be responsible for anything, and I want to fully relinquish control. I want - better yet, I need - to be guided to some kind of protection, to some kind of security, some kind of safety, through this captivity.

So much has been happening for me lately. At the same time, it feels like not much is happening really - it feels like my life has been very small. Despite of it, I’ve been feeling so much - all kinds of, often unexplainable feelings - crying a lot and pretty suddenly, feeling raw and tender, sitting with a big black empty hole in my stomach, or a tight knot deep in my belly. I have been having trouble sleeping with my mind running wild, waking up consistently in the middle of the night with these disturbing thoughts of where the fuck is my life going, with feelings of grief, and longing, and sadness, and missing. I naturally tend to like daytime more than the night time - these days especially. As the day approaches its end, no matter what day it is - I get the Sunday blues and the angst begins. Darkness just brings out more of the same in me, and I get all somber and sad.

It’s all very familiar somehow. I have been here before. And, more than once. Last time a while ago, but still… body remembers.

Photo: @calexander003, San Diego, 2024.

I have been seeing someone for the past five months, and it’s been - to say the least - intense, on every single level. When we are together, there is an undeniable and deep connection, belonging of a kind, a clear awareness of things being exactly what they should be, a sense of the self being so courageous, vulnerable and being seen. It has been deepening each time we see each other… building closeness, in every way. There is passion, chemistry, tenderness and sweetness. We have great sex. Fuck, it’s more than great. I had great sex in the past. This is not it. It’s an alchemy, a deeply transformative experience. What do you think it means? That we are in some way - or rather, many ways - compatible, right? There is openness, spaciousness and curiosity. There is a pull that is completely out of our control. We talk for hours, we kiss, we cry, we fuck, we play, we love, we surrender… It’s juicy; it’s moving; it’s fulfilling. In the end of our encounters I’m feeling empowered… feeling elevated, satisfied, fed and nurtured. I leave with a silence in my mind, feeling a deep content, connected, at peace… I am quiet, chatter stops, and often I am even happy.

When we play, I want to absorb him completely and be absorbed by him. I want to melt into him, to merge, absolutely. It's primal; it's carnal; it's also karmic, and all kinds of hot... Even as I am typing this now my heart is beating fast and my belly is twitching. He turns me inside out and I spin around. He gives me chills. I want to never stop kissing his skin, his everything. I feel empty until he fills me in. I feel chaotic until he brings in order. When I am with him, I feel so bold, so free to be my child-like self, amazed and wondrous, to be adorable, intelligent and smart, silly and bratty, and all kinds of sexy, all at the same time. And, all of these different forms of me I only really allow to come out and express themselves when I feel safe and held, when I am fully seen, when I am in love and when I feel loved. With him, I feel supported, encouraged, and celebrated for being my true self. Every. Single. Time.

I am in love; obviously.

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“Oh, love isn’t there to make us happy. I believe it exists to show us how much we can endure.” ~ Hermann Hesse

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Photo: @rlsfoto, Los Angeles, 2024.

Then, something happens. After about twenty-four to forty-eight hours (just about the time needed for me to hit a sub drop) no more bliss - a dread follows. There is death. A void. I am falling down from the highest cliff into a darkest of abysses, and dissolving into the ether. There is nothing. Just darkness. There is only me, my body with all the marks that it carries for weeks after, and my loud and chatty mind. Stupid tears that bring me down under. And, wanting… Oh, so much wanting… It’s excruciating and heart wrenching. And sooo incredibly lonely - no matter how much therapy I get and how many friends and dogs I surround myself with… It still feels overbearing and it seems difficult - if not impossible - to continue living life and to feel anything else but these grueling feelings. They completely absorb me.

I miss him… Even when I am with him.

In my mind, we ended long before we even began. I am already grieving the loss.

So, what is this - I have been wondering… Might be an infatuation. Lust, maybe? Craving of a kind? An obsession? A pure desire and carnal pleasure invitation? Is it a karmic connection? Or maybe it’s trauma bonding? Or is it love? Can it be love? Most would probably say that it’s not - most would say that it is too violent, or too painful, or too physical, inconsistent and fleeting to be love. Most would also say that love is not supposed to hurt, that love should make one feel calm, balanced, and in peace…

I have been deeply listening to myself every day, and I am realizing - I disagree with all this. I think it very much can be - and is - love. There is not one, true, objective way to love, or to show, feel, and measure it. We all love in unique to us ways. We also love different people differently. We love them with different intensity. And we love them in a variety of ways throughout the life of the relationship. Love most often involves the ecstatic longing, the mystery, and the madness. It is the unreasonable aspect of love that brings it into relationship with our soul. Love is an ambiguous concept, and its complex power originates from this ambiguity. We pretend to understand it as this primitive force that is living through us. But, at its deepest root - it is a complete mystery to all of us.

So, could this be love? Absolutely.

Additionally, since my focus has been on healing these days, then - no matter what this is or isn’t - in the words of one of my dear teachers - if it’s HOT, it’s HEALING! And, this is certainly HOT!

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“There is a voice inside of you

That whispers all day long,

“I feel that this is right for me,

I know that this is wrong.”

No teacher, preacher, parent, friend

Or wise man can decide

What’s right for you - just listen to

The voice that speaks inside.” ~ The Voice, Shel Silverstein

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Photo: @Jeff LaMarche, 2025.

The thing is, BDSM relationships and dynamics tend to be much more intense than vanilla ones. The reason for that is that, during the BDSM scenes and encounters we are inevitably touching upon the old wounds, childhood and other traumas, deep hidden shadows and desires, (often stigmatized and socially unacceptable) fantasies, old shame, and many other internalized patterns, emotions and beliefs. Of course, all of these can get triggered through any kind of intimate relationship; however, we touch these much deeper, often faster and in a more extreme way in BDSM exchanges and connections.

We step into these exhilarating dynamics after expressing our hard and soft limits and boundaries, upon detailed negotiations, trust, and with faith and hope that the other side will not break the consent. We also are (in best case scenarios) very much aware of our own feelings, our agency and ability to express ourselves, voice our needs and wants, and take full responsibility for that which can surface as a result of these encounters. And, the truth is, we NEVER EVER really know what might come to the surface, and what will be like on the other side. We can be as prepared as we want, we can behave within the consent and one’s limits, and we will most probably get out on the other side deeply affected, at least somewhat changed, and maybe even forever transformed. The integration, afterwards, is so crucial, though, and can determine how we perceive, embody and process the experience.

What’s been happening to me here is that my small tiny self, my little inner girl, has been shaken to her core, petrified, in a panic mode, scared of being abandoned, of being rejected, not accepted, and acknowledged for who she is. In the moments of separation from this man I start feeling alone, disconnected, lost and deserted. A fear overwhelms me that I won’t see him again, that I won’t feel this way ever again, and that, without him, I am nothing. It’s a relational trauma, as we know it. It is somewhat of a learnt behavior - or rather a learnt coping mechanism - a disrupt sense of safety and attachment that shows up as a reaction to being with another human with whom we feel great connection, intimacy, love. When we haven’t been attuned properly with our caregivers, this kind of split can happen. And this, then, shows up in our adult (intimate) relationships. Additionally, it often develops in a person a disorganized attachment style - where an individual wants closeness and connection, and at the same time feels fear and avoids relationships.

Photo: @Exquisitour, 2025.

I have avoided serious romantic relationships and getting attached for the most part of my adult life. When I fall in love with someone like I did with this man (which is not often at all), I immediately fall into this eternal child state and need reassurance and validation. I need them to mother me, and father me. I need them to be a nurturing parent for me. The one that I am supposed to be able to be for myself, but I don’t seem to know how.

There is both exhilaration and desperation in me. Where is my companion, I often ask myself? Why is he not here? What had I done previously in life that has made this the case? What have I said or done that made him disappear? Each time these questions appear, I feel pain in my chest. I feel nauseous and I can’t eat. Tears running down my face. And the cycle continues…

The most fascinating thing about all this is that this is not directly about him. It never is about them. This is about the little girl. This is her speaking. These are her fears and her tears. As a matter of fact, this man allows me to feel these feelings, to express them and to process all this mess in front of him. When we are together, he provides a refuge, a place where I am seen, acknowledged, and cherished exactly for who I am. But, the mess… the mess is not his, and he is not responsible for it. The truth is, I rarely hang around someone long enough to start cleaning this up. And, for now, I am choosing to stay for some reason, despite all the pain and discomfort. I don’t know for how long. Maybe not that long at all. Regardless, it is showing me something. As long as I can find that something that I am called to address here - it’s good. As long as I find a way to reframe the sense of my journey in this life stage - it is good. It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt - but it is good. It is growth.

Photo: @Exquisitour, 2025.

I didn’t expect to feel like this. I didn’t plan to fall in love. Truly, none of us ever expect it or can prevent it from happening, for that matter. And I certainly didn’t think that - in case it would happen - I will be fully unprepared to deal with my inner child, my attachment style, my past wounds, triggers, and my complexes. This particular person has been pressing all of these buttons, while doing nothing. The last time this happened was over a decade ago. And as much as I was hoping to experience this feeling again in life - this thrilling feeling of being in love again - I am (somewhat painfully) realizing how much I still need to learn how to be with it, how to exist inside of it, how to feel safe and remain open, and how to nurture and sooth myself instead of expect that from the other.

Each day fear is trying to pull me right back in my safe shell, right back into a comfortable place. Fear is telling me that I should leave this situation and be alone, and that I will crumble and die if I don’t. It is telling me that I am safer when I am on my own and not in love. And, in a way, that is true. There is a sense of balance when I am on my own. I know the rules then. When I am out there, however, it is almost paralyzing to be needing to make choices all the time. Nevertheless, there is beauty, wonder and magic in the unknown; there is a way to learn to love in the midst of pain.

“Watch out for love
(unless it is true,
and every part of you says yes including the toes),
it will wrap you up like a mummy,
and your scream won't be heard
and none of your running will end.

Love? Be it man. Be it woman.
It must be a wave you want to glide in on,
give your body to it, give your laugh to it,
give, when the gravelly sand takes you,
your tears to the land. To love another is something
like prayer and can't be planned, you just fall
into its arms because your belief undoes your disbelief.” ~ Anne Sexton

Somewhere in LA, April 2025

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