Archive for self-acceptance


Posted in musings, social commentary, writing with tags , , , , , on December 13, 2009 by kimmy

What is regret anyway?  Another means of self-flagellation?  A symbolic gesture of conscience?  A frustrated desire to change the past?  If self-condemnation actually accomplished its goal and altered the past, the person you are presently would not exist.  Do we really believe we can change ourselves by mourning the past?

The reasons for regret are usually linked to unpleasant current circumstance.  We experience disappointment and immediately rue our actions, as if we were solely responsible for the event.  If only I had been prudent, this discomfort would not have occured.  But there is no way to predetermine any outcome, especially if other people are involved.

We tend to forget that people are masters of their own lives.  Changing our actions will not necessarily change them.  In fact, they might respond in ways that are completely unexpected. 

Furthermore, if we are so stubbornly vested in specific outcomes, perhaps we should examine our own neediness and control dependency.  Are we really so fragile that we must manipulate every detail?  

It’s been said that adversity draws out one’s true character.  In crisis, we are put to the test and must act spontaneously in response.  There isn’t time for elaborate rumination to decide which of our many faces to wear.  We act in the moment, prompted from honest intention or fear, and this unguardedness reveals whom we truly are.

What has it revealed about you?  That you are decisive, doing what is principled and right?  That you are joyful, acting from the heart and connecting to others?  Or that you are self-protective, taking whatever you can and running from the scene?

No matter which best describes you, it is what and whom you are.  No amount of remorse will change that fact.  Therefore, if you are struggling with regret, the struggle is probably with self-acceptance rather than with external conflict.  Conflict with others usually occurs when we are not honest and disguise our natures to conform to another’s expectation.

If you are behaving with sincerity, then there is no place for regret because you honor not only yourself but others, too.  Giving them the freedom to behave and react as they choose is equal to giving yourself the same.  Allow them to be and you will discover that you have been liberated from the bonds of expectation and attachment, and regret will become nothing more than a habit discarded.



Posted in erotic fiction, love, romance, sex, writing with tags , , , , , on January 1, 2009 by kimmy

“Don’t move.”

The words slid into her ear, molasses-sweet and sticky.  Even if she had wanted to run, it was too late; they held her like flypaper.  The explosion of neighborhood fireworks outside the bedroom window was slowly muffled, replaced by the drumming inside her chest.  There was something dangerous within that sought release.  It beat against her, hammering at the bars which caged it, but she wasn’t certain whether to loose it upon him.  There was no way of knowing what it might do.

She had never intended to be drawn in so deeply.  Friends and colleagues had warned her, telling her to beware the charm that had waylaid others, but she dismissed them.  She was immune to entrapments.  What possible hazard could he pose to something dormant?  In fact, she was so confidently numb that she believed herself incapable of feeling.

Of course all that hubris evaporated one afternoon when he took her by surprise, effectively rendering her defenseless.  It was both terrifying and exhilarating, and despite the well-meaning cautions, she found herself shedding self-restraint one hobble at a time.  It was difficult to recall why she had them at all.  When he was near, she operated in a zone of moral ambiguity that seemed particular to them.  Established boundaries were curiously suspended, as if their peculiar connection took precedence.  That she never disputed it was proof of collusion, although she couldn’t explain why.

It was easier to understand as a function of her brainstem than that of conscious reasoning.  She recognized him with the same fervor and singlemindedness as a reptile knows its mate.  And when he growled at her that night, she responded in kind.

He pressed her into the wall, reaching beneath her dress to pull away her panties and the last vestiges of reserve.  She acted without thought, wrapping her legs around his waist, surrendering not to him but to herself.