Tali’s World

Over the past 6 months or so I have heard a lot about self collaring. What it means to people and how they wear it. I have been pondering this for sometime now. I have been getting peoples perceptions on why they do it.  Since I was released I have struggled in many areas of life. I have struggled feeling like a submissive. I have struggled feeling like I belong. I wrote a poem recently called Darkness. On another forum I was able to attach a pic of how I felt. Even though I’m sitting there I still struggle.  I struggle to belong I struggle to be good enough in the community. Especially as a leader.  I struggle to feel like I am a good enough employee to a sadist of a boss.  I struggle to remember to take my meds on time and when to take them.  I struggle with drinking water and basic self-care needs.  At the end of the day, I feel alone as a submissive. A submissive who struggles to be heard, seen, loved, etc. No, a collar doesn’t do those things. It’s going to be the reminder to take

I walk into a dark abyss I kneel Head down Palms on my thighs I sit in silence The only light is that shining on me I try and listen For anything Yet, only silence surrounds me I’m waiting for someone Someone to walk up to me Place their hand on my shoulder Even kneel in front of me Someone to tilt my chin Force me to look at them Tell me I’m a good girl The loneliness is all I feel The darkness is all I sense Emptiness fills me No one here I sit and wait Hoping One day Someone will come

  I sit there this evening with my world full of anxiety and stress. Since Christmas my car has broke down four times. It’s been the same issue and no one can seem to fix it. Here we are almost in the month of February and our car is still busted. As I look back of January 2022, all I have is stress. From being negative for covid and yet I swear I have it. To my car continuously breaking. My stuff I don’t want to talk about.   In my body I want to kneel at someone’s feet. With my knees together and my head bowed. My palms faced down and waiting for someone. Someone to stand in front of me. Someone to kneel in front of me. Pick up my chin and call me a good girl. Remind me what it’s like to be a submissive.  When I am submissive I don’t have to think. I can give my anxieties and my stress to my Dom. He can help me carry such a burden. I want to be someone’s his good girl and be told I’m doing everything right.  All I feel right now is, me kneeling and my head down. In my head I see me k

 Two years ago I felt such heartache. The first time in my life I ever felt such a thing. Yes, I had breakups before. This, this, was the worst thing I have ever felt. I know I talk about it here and there.  I have never talked about the man behind the heartache. I never talked about how I met this man. I didn’t talk much about my experiences with him.  I don’t talk about things that being up triggers. I have kept it buried deep within me.  He was the last thing I needed to talk about. The last thing to deal with to finally heal.  He brought on so much pain when I talked about him.  A pain I didn’t want to feel. Today, going into therapy, I knew it was going to be hard.  I didn’t realize how hard. Today, I found out just hard.  Not only was this man my boyfriend, he was my Dom, my love of my life. He was my everything.  The world came craving down when he broke it off that December day. I can still see his apartment and remember the smell.  I just wish it would go away. I’m tired of fe