23 Nov 2012

5O shades of grey

I found this lovely and far more eloborate review. It also shows me it is not worthwhile at all to read on.  How the books continue makes it all even worse. But what concerns me most is how BDSM portrayed! I really dislike that thought. The books are one shade of grey.... so sad.

22 Nov 2012


Right! So after reading a few other by now boring erotic scenes and a apallingly stupid part about flying in a glider with no spark, the everlasting sexy Mr. Grey is 50 shades, Ms. Steele is still as ignorant and of poor language as she was of the start and after even more unlikely scenes it ends up with a cliffhanger to sell her next book.

It's a bestseller.....

Do I want to read it?

Is Ms Steele 50 shades of fucked up as well?

So what would be the perfect BDSM novel?
Any suggestions?
Perhaps I should read 'The story of O' again....... written in the 1950's....

19 Nov 2012


Did I just read a sparkle of light int he 50 shades of foggy grey?

A contract! A contract for someone who has no clue to what it means and... with the ever so handy brand new notebook. She is even given some time to read on her notebook about BDSM. Right, she must know all by now to understand, grasp fully and comprehend this contract. I bet many couples are by now downloading a bdsm contract before they engage into a session of nipple torture of which she will as if by 'magic wand' can cum ever so easily.

I am rather enjoying this book.


Everyday schoolday I cycle to school with my children crossing a busy road. Today the traffic lights weren't working and the cars passed fast by in a steady stream. I just wanted to safely cross the road. The morning rush hour in front of me and finally after some time there was enough room so we could continue our journey.
When I went back I saw a police officer on the crossing. His motor with lights on behind him and he stood there vulnerable but strong on this busy road, guiding the traffic with his body and arm signals. I waited until I was allowed to pass. The tears streaming down my cheeks.

18 Nov 2012


They say submission is like flying
researching all darkest sides.
But I say submission is staring
starstruck into dark night sky.

17 Nov 2012

Ms. Steele

After fuck pigtails?

There she is Ms. Steele, who has never masturbated, never had sex and lives with her sexually active friend. They have never talked about masturbating, about their bodies, about anything as it seems. Miss sexually active Katie is concerned but has never given her full details before. Ms. Steele has no clue about her body and was only kissed twice. Perhaps I am far to Dutch to really understand this level of naivety in a girl of her age in these modern internet times. But even that is somehow explained, the poor girl doesn't have her own pc.

He gives her hints.... hints? But doesn't even mention BDSM to her or any other real clues, until he shows the red room?
Suddenly her life revolves around a extremely handsome and rich Mr. Grey who takes her virginity, although Mr. Grey has never had vanilla sex himself. He gives her one weekend of vanilla sex with his apparantly huge throbbing hot rod after confronting her casually with his 'red room'. To enhance more of the magic of the weekend she secures him after giving him a full professional blow job, deep throat and all. But ofcourse that is what a girl does all innocent and naive.

After our initial laughter we have now reached boredom with the dull sentences, the bad descriptions. I have promised him to extract the bits that are steamy. But I didn't even read the vanilla sex part to him.  As I said in my comments before it is a mixture of the movies "pretty woman', as unlikely as well where the rich handsome man safes the prostitute, and 9,5 weeks where he seduces her into hot steamy sex without revealing anything of himself.

The taste of the book is like eating a MacDonalds hamburger with a supersize drink. I think both Ms. Steele with all her immaturity and Mr. Grey with his smouldering 'grey' eyes are simply not very interesting characters. I keep telling myself it is a fairytale: Belle and the Beast.

I will read on and perhaps I will find something of interest to me.

15 Nov 2012


The autumn mist surrounds;
grey with dark silhouettes.
Things appear.
The water is like a mirror.
The grass covered in crystal.
Frost, crisp,
the world is so beautiful.
But I feel estranged
of familiar things.
The sun is out there,
He is winning.

14 Nov 2012

Mr. Grey

We started reading about Mr Grey and the little miss Steele. And to me it is like a Harlequin version... with BDSM. But we haven't really reached that part yet. The juicy bits, other than her looking at the tall handsome version of a modern Mr. Darcy and feeling hot. But as I said, it is not a Jane Austen who wrote it.
We are reading on for the steamy parts, so far we laughed a lot.

6 Nov 2012

letting go

So what am I doing? I am letting go. One time a psychologist told me this story and it is one of the most valuable metaphors in my life. 

In the kitchen we place things in a way we think is convenient. We have an order of things. It is good we can find things easy and after a while we can 'blindly' find the times we needed. But their might be a time that we need to, for some reason, place an itme at another cupboard. As soon as we have done that we need to reprogram our brain and because we are so used to the old place.

So it might be a mug, I placed it near the coffee, but it wasn't really right there so I replaced. Everytime I reach out for that it is no longer there. Every time I will think: Oh yes I replaced it! This will happen several weeks until, I have learned and replaced it in my brain as well.
I am gradually replacing items in my brain at the moment. It is not just the one item. It feels as if I moved house and have to keep asking myself where I put everything and like moving it is stressfull and makes me tired. I am used to certain rhytms, to certain orders, to be dominated in a certain way. That domination was very succesfull. 

So how does that feel, to be suddenly without a Dominant?

When I talk to him, see him or think of him the feelings return. Sometimes out of the blue it returns when I have a memory. It will only gradually go. It is lost luggage. I moved on and lost a suitcase with some of my best clothes in it; that wonderful dress, those ideal shoes, that one lovely picture of a special person etc. It cannot be replaced. But I do know that, even when I long to wear that dress again, it is out of reach. It is gone.
I drove home in the car today, for the first time I suddenly felt happy. I went over my suitcase of lost luggage and I smiled, feeling the happiness of all that is in there. I have been able to wear that dress and those shoes that fitted so perfectly. I am blessed to have known that, to have felt that and to have enjoyed it. I looked around and the sun shines, all is there, all that love that has been given to me, what pure beauty!

The mug?

The mug is within reach, it has always been.

3 Nov 2012


I feel like being in a dinghy surrounded by an Ocean. It is not like you abandoned ship and just embark  on another one and live happily ever after. It is hard to deal with all at the moment. I feel deep sadness, anger, resentment, grief and so much more all jumbled up into a hard nausiating ball in me. I wake up with it, do my chores with it and try to sleep without it, which is hard.

I should be happy now shouldn't I?

A longterm relationship is dealing with life: dirty socks, food on the table, work to do, kids around the house, and in between there might be some time left. I have hardly any time to grieve. I have to put all my energy into this new path. But I have no energy. It's life staring me in the face and I am clueless.
So I better get my act together. Little steps they say. Two steps forward, one step back and never give up!


I am 
not used
not ordered
not directed
not controlled
not dominated
I am lost