Gavin didn’t want to come. He was the one who had bought the tickets, so it surprised me.

This was very early on and I hadn’t quite absorbed yet the extent of his people-aversion. You would have thought my kink Master would be into an entire kinky weekend, but (are you beginning to see the pattern?) he preferred to stay at home and watch television.

So I went by myself, in pig tails and a skirt; latex has never been my jam. It was fun to be out in public, in the metro, surrounded by my people.

I probably wore my collar, although to be honest I can’t remember anymore. I must have, though.

I think there may be a picture of me somewhere, perched on the escalators of the metro St. Laurent.

I was full-on Baby Girl and I didn’t even know it yet. It would be two more years before I met Mommy and she taught me what a “little” was.

After that, she would teach me what “consent” was. What “boundaries” were. What “being treated properly” meant and what “getting the hell out” could do.

August 17th 2024
I’m pretty sure I know where my digestion problems are coming from. And, come to think of it, my respiratory issues. Who knows, maybe even the inflammatory response to that wasp bite would be…

Image credit: Yours truly

August 6th, 2024:
I texted Mommy this morning. I was in bed, waiting for my phone to tell me what was going to happen with the day. Yves had already said good morning. I hadn’t yet said anything back. What happened…

June 21st, 2024: 
...But I kept my cool! And my calm, and my collection! And I even avoided weed for two of those days, which may not seem like such an accomplishment, but believe me, it is. I have a bruise in my inner…

I walked to Mizan, though, and I replenished my supply of basmati rice (a year and a half, the last bag lasted me!) This felt like an accomplishment, especially when I managed to acquire wine on the…

Of course it does.

This was never a Jasmine-scented stink bomb, and it was never Gale’s true fight to begin with. How naive could I be? Well, I’m still learning the depths to which people will stoop. I am still constantly surprised, every goddamn time.

No, this was not a stink bomb. This was a Jasmine-scented DICK bomb.

“Have you spoken with your sister?” my mom said, only she sounded less curious and more accusatory.

“You sound accusatory!” I said, proud of how even-keeled I was presenting.

My mom sighed. “You’re going to have to talk to her eventually, you know.”

“Mama,” I said, and now I could feel the blood rising, “Please don’t blame me for the fact that Mindy and I are on the outs. She is a narcissist who abuses her children and leaves me feeling depleted and sad every time I speak to her. She has ninety thousand problems she won’t solve, most of them of her own causing, she will drain you asking for advice she then won’t take, and when was the last time she was there for you? Not in a long, long time,” I spat out bitterly.

Hello to my dear sister,

Thank you for this note! I am back now from my sunshiny travels, as you called them, which did mostly treat me well, except for one particular narcissist who managed to be quite terrible. Oh well. We live and learn, and the good news is that when vacation is hard, regular life feels almost manageable!

On my wall is a quote that I have kept with me for…oh I’m not sure how long, but maybe over two decades.

It reads:

Woe to him who teaches men faster than they can learn.

Google credits that to Will Durant.

Woe to me, man. Fucking woe. To. Me.

January 16th, 2024:

Her voice was almost gone by now. These assholes, so insecure, so dumb, they dont even see the disaster they leave in their wake. All of us here shaken, activated, triggered.

Good thing we are artists.

We will make MOTHER FUCKING ART.