I Love What I Do

Image via Pixabay

Another Wicked Wednesday, and another prompt (this time “love”) that gets me thinking. It’s understandable that you might assume when I hear the word “love” I automatically think of John Brownstone. Or that my love for him would be all I want to talk about.

Actually, I do think of him. And I’ve written of my love for him over and over and over…and will do so far into the future. I know I’m capable of loving others, but he’s got my heart on a level that I can’t imagine anyone else ever achieving. I’m his and he’s mine in the absolute and best sense of that sentiment.

When I love — whether a partner, my children, or anything — I love fiercely, with every fiber of my being. To love, in my world, takes a huge emotional and mental effort so I tend not to do it often. I feel too much, I care too deep, and I go all in.

And that includes when I love something rather than someone.

Following a Passion

Following your passion is a tired, worn out cliche that doesn’t always make sense to people. But it can also be (and has been) an amazing adventure in life. It’s also one of the scariest roller coasters I’ve ever been on. I don’t know, had I realized sooner the depths a passion can go, if I’d have taken this path. Except, I probably would because I want to follow the good and interesting “what ifs” to their ultimate conclusions, and this would always have been a what if for me.

I recognize the privilege I’ve had in being able to follow my own passion. If not for John Brownstone’s willingness to support me and two kids while I figured out the freelance writer thing, it would never have happened. Without that freedom, I wouldn’t have had the time, energy, or mental space to say, “I’ve got some ideas. What do you think about this?”

Without those moments, there would be no Loving BDSM podcast, no Smutlancer website, no Patreon, no Masturbation Monday podcast, and no trips to London and definitely no hand-written pages of things I want to do and goals I want to achieve. As someone who spent the first 34 years of my life struggling financially (yes, in childhood, too) and taking any old job to get by and pay the bills, the idea of this life would seem impossible to me if I hadn’t lived it.

A Life of Fun and Fear

Ask anyone who’s ever worked for themselves, built something that didn’t exist before, or believed that they could make things happen through their own determination and work, and I think we’ll all admit two things. It’s a lot of damn fun, and it’s also the scariest thing you can ever do. Your tolerance of fear and idea of fun will vary, of course.

My anxious brain spins the fear out of control, pushing me to never stop because maybe this is a house of cards that will all fall down if I rest. Anxiety pushes me to ask, “Who the hell are you to have this thing so few people have?” and “Why do you think you’re so damn special?”

But the fun, excitement, and exhilaration kick in when someone says, “You helped me.” When a client says, “Take my money!” Especially when a fan says, “Take my money!” Money is precious, it’s hard to come by, and it’s hard-earned. To be deemed worthy of someone’s money makes me feel ten feet tall. To worry about not having enough sends me spiraling.

What Do I Do?

Not everyone knows what I do because I’m kind of shit at talking about it. Part of me worries that no one will care. Another part worries it looks like bragging. Except, is it really bragging to say, “I set a goal, worked hard, and with a bit of dumb luck and a lot of effort, did this thing”? I hope not.

But here’s what I do…

I work for myself, on (mostly) my own terms, setting my schedule, my price, and my priorities. Mostly.

I’m a full-time freelance writer who writes for both adult industry clients and “vanilla” clients (think insurance, real estate, and other topics that don’t welcome sex toys, bondage, or naked submissives). My adult writing accounts for 50 to 75 percent of my income in a month, and the vanilla writing picks up the slack. It’s what pays the mortgage, buys groceries, and keeps kids in clothes that actually fit (do they ever stop growing?!).

But that’s not what I really want to do…

While I’m doing that – a full-time job by itself – I also blog about sex, kink, my mental health, John Brownstone…you already know that. You’re here, aren’t you? And I co-host and co-run Loving BDSM with him. Together, we make Masturbation Monday a thing. And, because who needs sleep?, I share what I’ve learned about making money writing about sex over at The Smutlancer.

Why do I do all of that? Because that’s my real passion. Living and working as Kayla Lords, taking care of my family as Kayla Lords, finding whatever I decide “success” means as Kayla Lords.

And that’s where things get hard.

To do more of what I love — and to become the rare blogger who earns a living from my true passion — I have to get uncomfortable. I have to do things I’ve never done, and I have to stretch and grow and put myself out into the world in ways that make me want to hide under the covers.

What I Love and Fear

You’d be forgiven for thinking becoming a freelance writer was the passion I followed. Actually, I wanted to work for myself and control my own destiny, and picked Freelance Writer as the safe option. That’s right. Quitting my job of seven years, moving 440 miles to be with John Brownstone, and convincing people to hire me to write for them was the safe option.

Trying to be Kayla Lords – Sex Blogger as a job — that’s the scary thing. That’s where I question, doubt, and get in my own way.

But when you love what you do, sometimes it means you have to do hard things you wouldn’t otherwise do. You have to put yourself out there and try new things. You’ve got to say to people, “I do this thing, and I’m damn proud of it.” And sometimes you set big, hairy goals and then let passion, determination, and pure stubbornness help get you there.

It’s not sexy. But it’s me, and it’s my passion, and a thing I love. And if I can do one thing better, it would be to stop worrying that people will think I’m weird, selfish, unhinged, or delusional because I think I can follow this passion down a wild, rabbit hole of a roller coaster, and make it happen.