Ch...Ch...Ch...Changes

I have been working on this post for months now, but haven’t been satisfied enough with what I’ve written to publish it. My mind races with a million different thoughts that lead me down a million different paths, and that’s just one reason why this is so difficult. It’s hard to share what’s going on, when I’m still adjusting to it and working it out for myself.

It has been almost two years since I became sick and started losing weight. Almost two years that have been full of tears, determination, fears, sweat, uncertainty, self-doubt, pain, joy, happiness, adjustment and so much more. I am not the same person I was then. I couldn’t be with all the changes and everything that has happened.

As I write this, my total weight loss is 32kg (70.5lbs). I’ve lost 5 dress sizes and goodness only knows how many inches. These aren’t the only things I’ve lost; I’ve also lost my self-identity, self-consciousness, countless outfits that I adored and many other things. However, there are many things that I have gained over this time as well. A new self-identity, self-confidence that I have never known before, the freedom to walk into any clothing store and not having to worry about whether anything will fit me, and last but not least my health and knowing that I’ve added many more years to my life.

There are not enough words or enough space on my blog to explain all the ways I’ve changed (and no doubt you would be bored if I listed them all). However, I can share with you what all this has done for me. As clichéd as it sounds, this has been a big, long, eye-opening and extremely personal journey. I’ve done a lot of soul searching, a lot of thinking, and a mass of writing during this time. I’ve learnt and realised so much more about myself that I thought I would, and I’m better for it. I know myself, my emotions (and the reasons behind these) better than I ever have before. I believe I am a better me for going through this, because I have discovered the real and true me. I’m still adjusting to everything and probably will be for some time to come. After all, I haven’t reached my goal weight yet, but I am close.

Putting aside the obvious health benefits, the best part of this journey is how I now feel about myself. I never thought that I would be satisfied or content with being me. And many years ago I gave up on being the person I wanted to be. I had (grudgingly) accepted that I would always be fat and that that was just something I had to live with. How I feel about myself now, is something I only ever dreamed about, but never thought I would actually experience. For the very first time in my life, I can honestly say that I am truly happy with being who I am, with being me.

I am not perfect now that I’ve lost weight, and I never will be (but perfection is not my goal). I still have lessons to learn, and improvements to make and that’s okay. Just like it’s okay that there are physical aspects to my body that I would like to improve. However, if (for whatever reason) my body had to say the way it is right now, I would be content, I would be satisfied, but most of all I would be happy. I would be lying if I said that I found this easy. I haven’t. But to come out at the other end of this, knowing I’m a better (and healthier) version of me, is and has been worth it.

And it’s such a great feeling to finally feel sexy naked.

Anal

I miss anal sex. I can’t help it. I love having something up my arse. But nothing feels as good as when He’s fucking my arse, pounding into me, and I’m breathless, because I am, and always will be, an anal slut.

I don’t normally ask for it when I want it. I don’t ask for it at all. Why? Because I don’t like the ‘mess’ associated with anal play. I feel dirty (not in a good way) about my messiness when it comes to anal fun. And I know this can be helped by an enema, but that’s something that really scares the shit out of me (no pun intended!).

He has bought a home enema kit, but we’ve never used it. It’s always been something that will happen sometime, but at this stage hasn’t as yet. I know the basic idea of how it’s done etc, but it still scares me. This will probably sound stupid…but isn’t that something that is just a little too personal for me to do with Him? And this thought is stupid, I feel silly even saying it. But, on the same token, it is really personal. Yeah okay, we’ve been together over 5 years now, but still.

I want to just say to Him “Alright, let’s try that enema”, but I just can’t bring myself to say it. It has nothing to do with me being afraid that He’s going to know I’m an anal slut – He knows that already. It’s the messiness and the embarrassment. That’s what it’s really about for me – how embarrassed I’m going to be. 1) Asking Him to try it, and then 2) actually doing it. I’m sure the results would be great, but how do I push myself to get to stage 1 of asking Him? I don’t want to be embarrassed about it, but I am. Although I’m a slut, sluts get embarrassed about some things too.

I want to have enough courage to just tell Him that although it scares me, and that I am terribly embarrassed about the whole thing, it’s something I want to do. I know He’s okay with it; after all He’s the one who bought the kit. He hasn’t pushed the topic, to which I’m grateful. However, I’m really starting to feel that this is something I want to experience, and soon.

I don’t get turned on by the embarrassment of this situation; I get turned on by how satisfying I’m sure the end result will be. And I’m sure that once I’ve done it one time, it will be a whole lot easier to do it again and again.

I want to experience nice and clean (hygiene), but dirty and nasty, full of passion and needy anal sex. I want to moan louder and louder as He pushes His cock further up my arse. I want to push back against Him, trying to force His cock further into me. I want Him to sweat. I want to hear Him grunt as He cums in my arse, and I want to moan as loud as I can when He lets me orgasm with His cock buried deep in my arse.

Lucy