Is It My Fault?

I didn’t sleep with Teddy last night. I couldn’t figure out how to explain to my mother who spent the night just why I had a teddy bear, so I put him some place safe, kissed him good bye, and waited for my family to leave. When we were reunited, I hugged Teddy very tight. This bear comforts me in ways I can’t explain – and I guess I’m not even going to try.

I fell down deep into my head this weekend, and I’m still at the bottom. I’m not even trying to pull myself up and out. I’m not depressed. I’m not feeling tragic. I’m just thinking. About who I am, what I am.

I wonder if being as obviously sexual as I am is a good idea. Were our mothers and grandmothers right when they told us boys wouldn’t marry girls like “that?” No, I’m not worried about getting married. I just wonder if I send out a vibe by being so open with my sexuality. Am I the one you fuck but you don’t take home to Mom? There have been times when it feels that way. Is it my fault that I tend to be the dirty little secret?

I argued with someone I care a lot about yesterday and something was said that bothers the hell out of me. “Did you ever think that maybe people don’t just walk away from you? Did it ever occur to you that maybe you push them away?” Is it my fault that I’m alone? Maybe so. I’m still afraid of being left behind, so I keep my walls up. I’m not apologizing for it. When the walls are supposed to come down, they will. But, did I do this to myself? Is it my fault?

I’ve become a person who compartmentalizes. There are people I care about, but no one who holds my heart entirely. This one wants to fuck me and as a side, be my friend. This one wants to know me. That one wants to flirt. And one wants to love me. And I fail them all because I can’t be what they think they need from me all the time. Yet, I care for them. I hurt when they hurt. I laugh when they laugh. I try to remember the things that are important to them. And yet, none consume me. Is that my fault, too?

I miss the one I can’t have. Yet, I have moments, entire days when I don’t think about him – until I do. I don’t cry anymore. I don’t wallow in sadness anymore. I don’t shut down anymore. My heart aches; I worry about him. Is it my fault I gave him my whole heart? Is it my fault that I want what I had before?

We are all a product of the choices we make in life. I guess whatever, whoever I am really is all my fault.

About the author

Kayla Lords

I am a sex blogger, podcaster, freelance writer, international speaker, kink educator, and all-around kinky woman. You can find me online sharing my innermost sexual thoughts and experiences, teaching other bloggers how to make money writing about sex, and helping kinksters have happy healthy BDSM relationships. I'm also a masochistic babygirl submissive with an amazing and sadistic Daddy Dom and business partner, John Brownstone. Welcome to my kinky corner of the internet!


  • The word “fault” implies that there is somehow an error or mistake in you. Perhaps it is better to say “responsibility”. You are responsible for your choices, your actions.

    Yet you also don’t always have complete conscious control over them.

    Truly, no one does. We are all products of our past, influences we can’t even remember, moments in time that affect us forever in ways we simply can’t see. Even the most mentally healthy of us are run by programming that was instilled in us before we could talk, by genetic inheritances and brain chemistry that we have absolutely no control over.

    As far as being what ANYONE needs from you ALL the time – that doesn’t happen for anyone, anywhere. Don’t let that stop you from finding something rich and meaningful.

    Do boys marry girls who are openly sexual? Boy, is that a tough question, one for which I don’t have an answer. I married a man who loved my sexuality, but slut-shamed me for my past. How the fuck did he think I learned all that shit? There is still a double standard for men’s and women’s sexuality, like it or not. I think it takes some maturity on the man’s part to set that thinking aside. Would you really want a man who couldn’t or wouldn’t embrace you as you truly are? I know I don’t.

    Good thinking words. ((Hugs))

    • Well, you gave me some good thinking words right back…((hugs))

      I don’t want someone to be my absolute everything, expecting them to fulfill every need…that’s crazy…and I know I can’t be that back…I guess I just want what I had, and that’s over, in the past, dead and gone…as hard as it is to accept…

      I’ve spent so long not being who I am, I guess I’ll have to hold out for the guy that likes the slut in me AND wants to take me home to meet their mom…

      Thank you, friend…((HUGS))

      • You’re very welcome. ((hugs))
        I miss our chats. I’m sorry to be so up to my nostrils in schoolwork. The end, however, is in sight. Graduation in 33 days!

  • I hate the word FAULT. We are created by our pasts. We learn as we live. We make mistakes. But.. there are those who love us flaws and all. We just have more lessons to learn. In the end it will be alright. And if its not alright then its not the end. remember that.

  • There are guys who marry the more open girls. I remember discussing “numbers” with my now husband, and cringing when I realized my number was 5 times higher than his. (and his certainly wasn’t 1!) And, I told him anyway. He’s never brought it up again. He did take me home to mom, once. It went horribly, and he hasn’t seen her since. So, yeah, those guys are out there.
    I think we choose to be a “dirty little secret.” I secret only has power as long as it is one. So, if you keep finding yourself being a secret, why do you let yourself be one? If somebody can’t/won’t openly love you, care about you, then, the responsibility is on you if you stick around. If you let yourself get attached.

  • All your fault? Hmmmm … not sure about that. Own all the light and shade that makes your name but dont make it a fault. Take credit. 🙂

  • We all do what we have to to get through heartbreak. Compartmentalize all you need to, make an agreement with yourself that you are allowed to do X until you feel better.

    Just such an agreement has gotten me through great pain and suffering. It gives an ending somehow even though you don’t know when or how it’ll happen.

    Anyway, be kind to yourself, and sleep with Teddy whenever you can. xx Hy

    • Thank you…I’m trying to be kind…I’m harder on myself than any Sir probably could be…lol…

      Teddy is my constant companion from the moment I put the boys to bed until I get up in the morning. Strange how a stuffed animal can bring such comfort…


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