Secrets

I live a life of secrets. All of my friends know that I'm kinky, that I have a sex blog, that I do X, Y, and Z, and that I enjoy it immensely. They know this because I met them through either Jefferson or through the scene. Ulimately, many of us are keeping the same secrets, from our families, employers, school mates and teachers, the list could, potentially, go on and on.

For those of us keeping these secrets, it's a nessecity, we stand to lose our families, our jobs, and our standing in society. So we take on scene names, and write our smut under alias' to protect our identities. Kind of like bizarre super heros, someone should give us capes and we should start wearing our underwear on the outside of our clothes.

I was recently cleaning up in my bedroom, clearing out my closet (which looked like a bomb had gone off in it), and moving my summer clothes from my secondary dresser onto shelves in the closet. I threw out lots of shoes and old boxes. When I was digging through my dresser, I uncovered the box my Hitachi came in, and my first strap-on. I had relegated the one I have now to an antique minitature steamer trunk underneath my bed. I froze when I saw my strap-on, I had bargained for it in a Chelsea sex shop and got paid what I wanted to pay for it. It was ghetto fabulous while it lasted.

I sat there, staring at it, knowing it was time to throw it out, not quite sure how to accomplish it without getting caught. So I went downstairs and got a garbage bag, and came back upstairs. I threw out some old boxes and put my old strap on in the bottom of the bag. I went through my closet, clearing out old shoe boxes, breaking them down and putting them in the trash bag. I cursed loudly when the bag began to tear, so I ran downstairs and got two more, for the sake of covering all my bases, and placed the now shredding bag inside of the other two. It held. I filled another bag with shoes and old purses that I never wore before, and probably won't wear anytime in the future, no matter how much I try to convince myself I will.

I cleared my other sex toys with the exception of my Hitachi (which has a permanent home in my primary dresser) and my one pathetic porno into the small trunk with my strap-on. I hid it behind my much larger steamer trunk which holds my costumes for role playing and my fine bedding. I'm supposed to be getting a new computer that I'm going to stock full of my blog stories and scene pictures and plenty of other debaucherous things in addition to my less carnal daily files and programs, and then I'll proceed to password protect the hell out of it. Hence the cleaning, in preperation for the desk that will go in it's place.

I live a life of secrets, like so many of my friends. Sometimes secrets are nessecary, they allow us to keep our jobs, our families, sometimes they are the glue that holds our lives together. My mother discovered my blog a while back, I had gotten lazy and forgotten to clear the history, a mistake I can't afford to make again. I could very easily end up on the street, and I am in no position to handle a situation like that.

I have lived like this since I was 18 and went to my first TES meeting. I love my family, I don't want to hurt them. I made a stupid joke about SM once to my mother and she freaked out. That's when I knew for sure that no one in my family could ever know. Terra and I have a plan to get an apartment together with another friend of ours at the end of next year, I have one more year to live my life under lock and key. If our plan works out, then I'll have one more year of passwords and stories and secrets.

I will live my life of secrets because I have too, many of us do, it is a simple fact of life. But I do look forward to the day when my home life doesn't force me to lie and make up stories about what I'm doing and where I'm going and why I have bruises on my chest. Silence is golden for a reason, but damn, when the day comes, yelling is gonna be fun.