I Shouldn’t Believe All the Things I Feel

slaves of our emotions

I hate to burden my readers, new or old, smut-seekers or friends, with the crap that rattles around in my head. But I also know the best therapy is a bit of word vomit.

You’d think I could write everything down on a piece of paper, throw it away, and move on. No, strange little exhibitionist that I am, it works best when I shove my thinking out into the ether. I apologize partly because some are here for the smut and there is no smut to be had right now. I apologize in part because I know (or think I know) that once I put this out into the aforementioned ether, I’ll feel better, but my thoughts will be viewable, dissectable, discussable (is that a word?). Which is fine, except I’ll have moved on (I hope).

Basically, this is a purely selfish exercise.

This is for my benefit alone. Which is why I’ve hesitated so long. This is my therapy. This, like a spanking, centers me, gives me balance, reminds me that it’s almost never as bad as I think it is.

But this space is so much more than a personal blog. It’s my business card to the world. The Hey-Look-At-Me-I-Write-Decent-Smut platform. The Let’s-Talk-Kink platform.

Problem is, I haven’t felt much like either lately.

John Brownstone gave me one hell of a spanking last night. Hard, pounding, ass-reddening. I was crying before he even began and barely felt the pain through my depressed fog. Once my mind cleared, the pain was intense. Cleansing. I sobbed harder but not because I felt better.

I need to take you down one of my crazy-train thoughts for a second…

Excruciating spanking. Mind beginning to clear. My toes curled as the pain penetrated.

First thought: I hope my toes look okay.

Second thought: I wish I could take time to get a pedicure. (I have a Groupon for a mani/pedi purchased in March I haven’t used.)

Final thought: Like I deserve a pedicure.

There it was. A feeling of unworthiness that I didn’t recognize. Ugly tears, y’all. Nothing but ugly, snotty tears.

I knew I had to share my revelation. Later, wrapped in strong warm arms, I managed to spit out what I’d thought. My voice was small, halting, fearful of putting it out into the world, as if saying it made it so.

Before my friends get up in arms, no, I don’t think I’m unworthy of anything. The things I’ve done are earned. The successes I’ve managed to eke out for myself are from hard work and some skill.

The feeling of not deserving…what? I don’t know, but something…isn’t the only bit of crap floating in my head. It’s just the only bit that fell out to be inspected, dissected, and (hopefully) discarded in an effort to clear my mind again.

A few small confessions…

When I log in to social media, I feel alternately numb and exhausted. Scrolling through all the articles being shared, books being published, and the life that’s happening (good and bad, controversial and mundane), I can’t muster up good responses. Sometimes I share, sometimes I just log out and walk away. I’ve attributed it to content envy – the idea many creative people get of “I should have written that, done that, made that.” It’s a real thing that happens, and I work hard against it. But I don’t know if that’s all it is.

I’ve told myself that I need to stay away for a while and just write. Don’t worry about promotion. Don’t worry about sharing. Go in and get out when I need to, and otherwise, just write. But the idea of staying away scares me. I work alone (and I like it that way). Many days my only connection with the world at large is through social media. It’s where my online friends hang out. And, if I’m honest, I worry I’ll be forgotten. (There it is, the next revelation.)

When I sit down to write in this specific space, words fail me. I have a really interesting review to write, not so great sales statistics to share, and probably other stuff. The blinking cursor mocks me from a blank page. I blamed it on all the writing I did in June. I figured I’d overloaded myself. I tried to back away and not worry about blogging. Until I realized that I’m blocking myself by not dealing with whatever is in my head.

I haven’t written good erotica (minus a post at the end of June) in weeks. Worse, I have zero storylines in my head. The stories and plots I came up with early in the year hold no interest for me. The biggest problem? I have opportunities left and right for people who want my stories, will pay for them, and I’ve got nothing.

In the vanilla world, life is completely different.

I’ve had four articles picked up by one website in the past 3 weeks. Another one, after two rejections picked up a piece I wrote – it will publish next week. A third picked up one of two pieces I wrote. I feel validated and vindicated. I’m able to show my mother something I’ve written with my name on it. It’s a competitive market (about as competitive as erotica) but I seem to be making progress.

I picked up a new client two weeks ago who loves my work, let’s me do my thing, and is genuinely appreciative of the effort I put in. Even if it is about insurance. (I know way too much about insurance at this point.)

The pendulum has swung from kink to vanilla, and I can’t find the center where I’m balanced.

When I think of all the things I want to do here, in the kinky world I love, I don’t consciously feel afraid of anything. I tell myself that it doesn’t matter what other people are doing, just write. I tell myself that I’m going to let other people do them, and I’ll do me.

But then I go back to that weird moment last night. That feeling of unworthiness, feeling smaller than small, insignificant, unimportant. I don’t know where it came from. I don’t know what else is hiding in the recesses of my brain. I’d rather get it all out into the light of day so I can deal with it and move on.

I promise you, no one wants me back to my normal self more than I do.

Last night was the first night I slept without tossing and turning in days. I know lack of sleep makes every problem seem worse.

Last week we discovered we need a new air conditioner and that our credit card debt was only growing thanks to the interest. Just two days later, a miracle dropped into our laps that takes care of the air conditioner and the credit card debt. But I don’t think my body knows it can relax yet.

Two weeks ago we made the agonizing but crucial decision to stop trying to drive the crazy train that is his sister’s cancer. She doesn’t want that kind of help from us, and the stress was making John Brownstone physically ill. It was hard but we’ve confined ourselves to the help that is wanted and appreciated and backed off from the rest – even though we can see what will happen if she doesn’t get the help she actually needs. It’s not going to be pretty, y’all.

For more than two weeks, I’ve immersed myself into my vanilla writing world, attacking it with a certain amount of glee. I do love a new project. But I think I’m doing it for the wrong reasons. That writing makes me validated. I shouldn’t need validation, especially when I recognize what I’ve accomplished in the kinky world. Is it some kind of kink shame I have that I didn’t realize? Is it a desperate need to be recognized? (Gawd, I hope not.)

I have zero solutions. 1300 words later, and I’ve got nothing. But I know me. One foot in front of the other. Keep pushing. Keep trying. And when all else fails, a cup of hot tea and a good book will block out just about anything. And if that still doesn’t work, a good, mean, bruising spanking will at least help me sleep.



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!


  • A big old hug to you my sweet, kinky inspiration. You are anything but forgetable darlin’ ❤️❤️❤️

  • Number one, take the time and get that pedicure. You deserve it. It seems to me you try to be everything to everyone, and believe me I am afflicted with the same disease, but you don’t take any time for yourself. A friend recently stated that you can’t fill others buckets when your own is empty. If kink isn’t coming to you right now, the write vanilla. There is nothing wrong with that. You WILL NOT be forgotten by your online friends. You have an incredible partner to lean on. Share your burdens with him and I promise it will all work out.

    • Thanks, Robin. SSir mentioned that I need to schedule it, too. I really am afflicted, lol. I feel guilty if I sit down to read a book before 5pm – and I work at home AND read as part of my work. Sad, sad, sad. I’m working on it, though. ((HUGS))

  • We’re going through something similar. Vanilla world work has been picking up and the kinky side isn’t getting attention. I’ve been writing in dribs and drabs and I know my ideas are solid. I have so many notes on my phone!

    I have a gift card in my wallet for a mani/pedi and just can’t seem to make the appointment. We went through a couple of financial upheavals and got them miraculously taken care of, too, but I keep having guilty feelings about tipping because that money can go to the kids, or groceries, or gas! I batten down the hatches when financial storms hit and have a hard time spending money on anything that isn’t absolutely necessary. Guilt weighs heavy on me. We have a couple of huge bills coming up next month and they are all I can concentrate on.

    I know you’ll find the balance because you’re seeking it and you’re reaching out. Keeping it all bottled up inside is my job, woman! Big hugs!

    Now, let’s go get our manis/pedis and enjoy the pampering.

    • ((((HUGS)))) Ugh, I hate that you can relate at all because it sucks, doesn’t it? I read your post today…you’ve made great progress, even if it wasn’t what you originally intended.

      I think we all strive for balance and sometimes the only way we get there is with help. (I’m looking over my glasses at you, ma’am.)

      Mani/pedis for everyone! 🙂

  • Hugs to you from this side of the pond. I love your writing and like any others who enjoy what you write and feel empathy with what is happening in your world now are quite prepared to wait for as long as it takes to sort your life out first. Your health and welfare must always come first no matter what. If you write vanilla and make money out of it then concentrate on that as I know you are concerned about the finances. Hugs again to you and John. xxxx

  • So sorry to hear this but you got it down and out I hope it has helped. I feel much the same I never take time for me is this a woman thing? I have 3 jobs and I feel panic risingbwhen I try to evaluate and take control of life . Maybe sometimes we all need to go with the flow more. Easier said than done in modern life. I admire your writing at least you got into the link world and wrote I’d love to have a go but where to start….take care have the pedicure and enjoy some well deserved me time and maybe a spanking or two to help sleep…

    • Ack! Three? Wow…the last time I attempted that was in college. I feel for you.

      When it comes to kink, just wade in wherever you’re at in the moment. Beginning, middle, or end. There’s an audience out there for it. 🙂

      More spankings and sleep sounds like an excellent recommendation. 😀

  • Seems there are a lot of us suffering from what you have! Is there a name??

    I thoroughly related to what you wrote, except for the part of getting my writing published (a dream, but one I’m not sure will happen). Oh, and not getting really and truly spanked in a long time. Word Vomit is what I do all the time (hehe, that was great!). Hey, it’s my blog and I can word vomit if I want to, and so can you! The great thing about this medium is that there are lots of people out there who relate, and who have more than a kind word to say. That is invaluable. I also hear you on the content envy. I have so many GREAT ideas that now just don’t appeal… or I just can’t drum up the enthusiasm. I just have to stay true to me and write what I can. Sometimes it might be great, other times not. At least here in blogland no one’s paying for it. My reward is followers and comments, that my voice was heard. You have that in spades, plus your published work and your vanilla work. That’s a lot!

    I really liked the voice I heard in this post, so don’t be so down on yourself. We write erotica when we can. We write insurance when we can. We write. In a discussion on grammar with my college kid (who studies English and fancies herself now an expert), we were talking about the most misused and misunderstood grammar rules and spelling mistakes (lay and lie; their there they’re; its, it’s; your you’re) and I opined that in some of these cases it wasn’t necessarily the case that a person was a bad writer or ignorant about spelling and grammar, but that for some of us creative writers the words flow from our fingertips at a rate of 60-80 wpm and we can barely get it out there fast enough for our fertile imaginations, let alone monitor our spelling of those trickier nuances. And I often make those mistakes when I’m focusing solely on content; I usually catch them in editing. She looked at me and could not relate at all to the unstoppable flow of words (and, she, of course, disagreed… bitch!).

    Hey, there aren’t many of us who can write 1300 intelligible words, full of emotion, pathos and real life stuff… let alone craft real stories! Keep writing, no matter what! Hang in there. I too am wondering “whatever it is” will pass. I’ve had quite a funk going and can’t even put it down yet (partly cause I don’t want to hurt SK).

    • I wish there was a name for whatever this is, but clearly there should be a support group. 🙂

      If it helps in the argument with a college student who knows so much more than the boring adults around her, yes, my grammar mistakes often come when I’m getting the story out at 90 miles per hour. I cringe when I screw up their, they’re, and there because I *do* know better. I even jacked up no and know once. (The horror!)

      I read your post today…my first thought was you need to communicate with him, but I know it can be complicated, based on his reactions when you’ve tried to communicate other issues. In D/s, though, nothing works without it. Nothing. There may be hurt feelings, but carrying around all the negative energy and the worry you have isn’t good either. ((HUGS))

  • This post has had me thinking for two days. Those feelings of numbness and exhaustion, even content envy, or feeling that I want so badly to read and connect to the words, but my head is so full, that I just can’t. I don’t have any clear cut answers, but I do know this after two days of thinking- I’ve always been a busy brain and I’ve always set high expectations for myself. Sometimes that is fantastic and it helps in so many positive ways. But, in many ways, I’ve allowed myself to live a distracted, multi-tasked, 100mph life in which I constantly set myself up for failure.

    Over the past several years, it’s something I’ve worked so hard to rid myself of, to slow down and see myself and the world more clearly, and I’ve made great strides. However, one critical part of this journey for me was writing, sharing, and connecting, all of which prompted more and more connection, more sharing, more writing, and….just more. Which, in turn, fuels greater expectations for myself, added to those distractions and meaningful connections. A never ending cycle of distraction, multi-tasking, and feeling like I’m not meeting my own expectations, even though they are often unrealistic. I fear losing those connections too, which also fuels those unrealistic expectations.

    Al in all, this way of operating leaves me less fulfilled, urges me to see the negatives more often than the positives, and keeps me from seeing what makes my heart full at times. It keeps me from feeling good about myself at times, unworthy even, because I can’t live up to those expectations or comparisons. Most importantly, it keeps me from allowing myself to simply be, and from truly seeing the people whom I love so much.

    I guess, for me, it’s been and will continue to be a matter of ridding myself of the true distractions, being realistic in my expectations of myself, and constantly striving to just be….in moment, focused on the blessings and letting the rest go.

    Hogs to you. You are such a strong, loving, and gifted woman. No doubt you’ll find the root and figure how to proceed.


    • Kay,

      You nailed it. It’s about ridding ourselves of the distractions. My brain has been in thinking mode on this one for several weeks. I want to do the things that mean something to me and aren’t simply a distraction – or something I’ve been doing for so long that it *seems* like something important. I’m in dissection mode…I don’t have any answers, but that’s where my mind has been.

      ((HUGS)) We’ll figure it out, I’m sure.

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