Vanilla Life

For most of the past year or so, I've been living a nearly totally vanilla life, something I had sworn in the past I would never do again. That's not to say that I haven't missed my scene friends and that don't miss all those wonderful spankings I've gotten over the years. But...it's been easier to do than I thought it would be. There are a number of reasons for this.

First off, and most importantly, I moved out of the home of my brother-in-law. My sister finally got tired of his crap and left him. She said she found condoms in his pants pocket when she was doing his laundry. I've known for years that he was being unfaithful. But the situation got physical and we had to get out of there quickly. We live in a pretty nice two-bedroom apartment. My sister and my niece share the master bedroom and I have the smaller room to myself. We're a bit cramped, but it's worth it to be in a more peaceful environment. The irony, of course, is that now that I essentially have my own place and can host guests, there are no play dates in my future. At least, not the foreseeable future unless things change. Having some walls and a bed and furniture I can call my own is really important to me. I haven't had my own place since Carol and I lived in our apartment and that's been almost ten years ago now. I have essentially lived with people since then. My sister, niece and I live quietly, comfortably and happily here. I don't have to worry about petty people messing with me. I have my own router now so no one can turn it off and deny me Internet access. My brother-in-law did this all the time. The router was in his room and he would often turn it off and then lock his door while he was at work. He used to do the same thing with the phone (this was before I had my cell phone). He would turn off both at the same time if he really wanted to mess with me. He did this in 2013 while I was recuperating from having my appendix out. He knew I was home every day and he also knew I would get lonely and feel isolated. He did this because that's how he got his kicks. I'm sure he went about his work with a smile on his face knowing how miserable I was. Once I moved back from Chicago, his behavior toward me improved for a while. But later, once I had a job and couldn't do the things I had done before (such as doing the dishes and other cleaning), he went back to treating me bad. Oh, he wasn't messing withp one anymore or the router (at least, he did it only occasionally), but he made it known that he didn't like me being there. The move was a nightmare. We were only allowed in the house when he was there and that was only on the weekends. My sister and I don't get many days off together, so what should have taken a few days, turned into months. Neither her husband or her son helped us move anything. We had to do everything ourselves. My good friend sold me some furniture she had for $150.00. It consisted of a couch (the kind that recline on the ends), a chair with a matching ottoman and two tables. I knew I wouldn't be able to carry the furniture up three flights of steps, so I asked a guy I worked with who does odd jobs if he'd move the furniture for me. He agreed and told me he and his helper would do it for $100, or $50 each. That seemed like a good deal. We set a date and he went over in his truck to my friend's house and picked up the furniture. The couch came apart in three sections, which made it a lot easier to carry. So for $250 I now had furniture. Once we got furniture, I set about getting cable and Internet set up. Yeah, we lived there for two months without living room furniture or television or Internet. It's  been a slow and arduous process, but we now have everything we need. Now, I'm not allowed in the house at all, under any circumstances, which I can't figure out because I never did anything to him. Despite the fact that my sister's name is still on the mortgage to their house, he changed the locks. Suffice to say, he's a miserable jerk and I'm happy I don't have to deal with him anymore. I'm happy that my sister gets to enjoy her days off, without him asking her if she sat on her "fat ass" all day. Of course, because of his conditioning, she still feels guilty about not doing anything on her days off. I told her she could do whatever she wanted to. She's slowly learning how to enjoy herself.

Secondly, my health is slowly becoming problematic. It was one of the major factors for me quitting the scene. My RA is advancing and it makes everyday tasks difficult, even on my so-called good days. I work full time, but I'm no longer able to walk like I used to. Since the move, I haven't been able to walk to work anymore because it's just too far. My knees and hips hurt almost all the time now. The flare up I had of my RA last fall was triggered by a fall I took at work in the summer. I still haven't fully recovered. Also, my eyesight is getting worse. I just don't think I'm attractive to potential partners anymore. My face is aging and quickly. I look at pictures of me from just a few years ago and I'm stunned by how much I've changed since then. I hate to say it, but I'm beginning to look like an old lady. And make up doesn't help. I still wear it occasionally, but I've gotten out of the habit of wearing it. Having to have a tooth pulled also drove the point home to me of how much I've aged. I had always wanted to keep my own teeth. The thought of dentures was out of the question. So when I lost a filling, I thought nothing of it. I thought I would just go to the dentist and get a new one put in. But the tooth had become infected, a sure sign that there was more than likely a fracture involved. My dentist and I decided that the easiest and least expensive route would be to pull the tooth. It was a molar so no one would see the bare spot. To me, it felt like the first step to hagdom. I was turning into a gap-toothed hag and there was nothing I could do about it. I'd always been careful about how I looked. Call it pride if you have to, but I always insisted on looking my best whenever I was at an event. Oh, I still get my nails done but only because of how bad my hands would look if I didn't. Plus, I refuse to give up my nails. I work hard and if I want to get my nails done, I will. My bother-in-law always hated it that I got my nails done. He also hated it that I got my hair done or bought pretty clothes for myself. I never heard a word when my nephew's wife (who lived in the basement with him) did the same thing. She went to the tanning salon and those things are expensive. But he never said a word to her. Now, it could be that he hated as much when she did it as when I did, but I rather doubt it. My nephew's wife had an elevated status in that house that precluded even my sister. When he was redecorating the kitchen and living room, he never once asked for my sister's (or anyone else's input) but my nephew's wife. It seems she was consulted on every decision, including what color the new siding should be. My sister was never asked what she wanted. This was where, I believe, the seeds of her real unhappiness came from. She had been uniformly unhappy throughout most of her marriage, but this, coupled with finding the hidden condoms, was the straw that broke the camel's back. It showed her, once and for all, how little he actually valued her as anything but a drudge; someone who was handy for cooking and cleaning and doing his laundry, but not for consulting with on important issues. The only thing I ever got from him was his constant disapproval. I gave my sister $60 a week ($240 a month) to use in any way she wanted. It mostly went towards groceries to feed the other people in the house, but not me. I was deemed unworthy of being fed and so I had to buy my own food, despite the fact that the meals I wasn't allowed to eat were mostly paid for by me. Of course, there was a time when I wasn't allowed to use the stove or the oven. Anything I brought home to eat had to be microwaved. Also, I wasn't allowed to keep anything in the refrigerator and, at one point, I also wasn't allowed to use the microwave. So eating became a real challenge. I would bring something home from work (I work in a supermarket) and put it in the microwave while my brother-in-law slept. Then I would wash my dishes right away so he wouldn't know I'd eaten. Of course, I wasn't starving. He had to know I was eating. My nephew's wife routinely threw away food I had stored in the fridge, saying it was spoiling or that it took up too much room. I was working in the accounting office of a supermarket. I didn't have unlimited funds to buy food every time she decided to pitch my stuff out. So, eventually, things came to a head and I knew it was time to leave.

So I work, I come home. I get on Facebook and see what my cousins are doing. I even sometimes look at Fetlife, but I really don't have the stomach for it anymore. I read and do other things that interest me. I do miss the fun of the spanking scene, but I just don't see myself ever being a part of it again. At least, not the way I was before. Maybe, at some point and with some luck, a man with an aim towards marriage will enter the picture. I said in my youth I would never get married. But when you're young and most of your life is ahead of you, you can afford to be brave. Once you hit my age, the thought of spending your final years alone is too awful to think about. But whatever happens, God will have his way in my life.

This is an update for those who might be wondering what I'm up to these days.