CraigJustCraig

Tag: relationships

  • Consent, Connection, and Community Integrity

    Don’t Play With People You Don’t Know

    Many consent violations happen because people jump into play without knowing each other well enough. When you engage someone whose conflict style, boundary recognition, or emotional regulation is unfamiliar, you increase the chance of miscommunication or harm.

    Play should be rooted in mutual observation, trust, and shared values—not just attraction.

    Before Playing, Take Time To:

    • Watch how they interact in community spaces
    • Ask trusted members if they’ve played with or observed them
    • Share low-stakes environments: classes, socials, rope jams
    • Notice how they respond to feedback, stress, and boundaries
    • Observe their reliability, communication, and accountability
    • Have open conversations about values, experience, and expectations

    No Private Play Until Trust Is Earned

    Private scenes reduce visibility and raise risk. Without witnesses, it’s easier for misunderstandings, escalation, or manipulation to occur.

    Build Enough Trust for Private Play by:

    • Playing publicly with them multiple times
    • Observing their behavior during stress or conflict
    • Discussing past consent experiences and their response to repair
    • Letting your community get to know them

    Don’t Play With Anyone Who Can’t Speak Up

    If someone struggles to say “no,” they’re not ready.

    Readiness Looks Like:

    • Expressing preferences, not just agreeing
    • Asking clarifying questions during negotiation
    • Using stop signals confidently
    • Giving real feedback during aftercare

    Vetting Through Actions:

    • Watch how they handle disappointment
    • Observe how they treat others when no one’s watching
    • Listen to how they talk about exes or past scenes
    • Do their words and actions align?

    Sometimes, the responsible choice is saying: “You’re not ready.”

    Accept That Misunderstandings Happen

    Consent incidents aren’t always malicious. They often stem from misinterpretation or mismatched communication.

    What Helps:

    • Discuss the possibility of misunderstanding upfront
    • Talk through emotional readiness, mental state, and trauma history
    • Clarify both desires and boundaries
    • Build a shared plan for if things go wrong

    Build Around Community, Not Isolation

    You earn trust in public.

    To Build Credibility:

    • Attend events regularly, even when not playing
    • Volunteer or support community spaces
    • Show up consistently and respect boundaries
    • Talk about your learning process and ask questions

    Reputation is built through visibility and integrity, not intensity.

    Own Mistakes When They Happen

    Integrity matters more than perfection.

    Accountability Looks Like:

    • Listening without defensiveness
    • Validating impact even if intent was different
    • Making changes based on feedback
    • Following through on repair commitments

    Prioritize Education and Empowerment

    Avoid communities that only talk safety. Choose those who teach it.

    Healthy Communities Provide:

    • Ongoing education and mentorship
    • Leaders open to feedback
    • Visible inclusion of diverse voices
    • Transparent, nuanced accountability

    Safety doesn’t come from bans. It comes from knowledge, conversation, and culture.

    Stay Visible If You Have a Complex History

    If you’re rebuilding trust, do it in public.

    Reintegration Requires:

    • Visible growth and transparency
    • Playing in accountable spaces
    • Letting time and consistent action rebuild trust

    Some people need therapy, assertiveness training, or emotional healing before play. That’s not shameful—that’s responsible.

    Understand Emotional Bonding in BDSM

    Scenes trigger intense hormonal releases. Emotional highs can be mistaken for romantic or relational connection.

    Be Cautious If You Notice:

    • Emotional dependence on one partner
    • Craving scenes to relive a high
    • Confusing skill with intimacy

    Healthier Practices Include:

    • Grounding before and after scenes
    • Talking about emotions, not just sensations
    • Waiting between scenes to reflect clearly

    Avoid Role Confusion and Identity Entanglement

    Your value isn’t your kink role.

    When self-worth is tied to dominance, submission, or scene popularity, feedback becomes harder to process and accountability harder to hold.

    Separate your identity from your role.

    Beware Narrative Hijacking

    Sometimes, consent conversations are co-opted by bystanders, exes, or community drama.

    Watch For:

    • People pushing action based on hearsay
    • Advocacy that centers them, not the harmed person
    • Escalation after the harmed party has stepped away

    You Can Do Everything Right and Still Cause Harm

    Intent doesn’t erase impact. Procedures don’t guarantee safety.

    Real Consent Includes:

    • Acknowledging harm, even if unintentional
    • Being open to repair and feedback
    • Staying humble, always

    Consent Isn’t Real Without Risk Awareness

    Negotiation is not a shield. It’s a roadmap.

    Build Risk Awareness By:

    • Including a “what if things go wrong?” conversation
    • Discussing emotional support and recovery plans
    • Being honest about your capacity

    Consent is not performance. It’s preparation for when things get messy.

    Rushing is The Biggest Risk

    Most harm happens not from cruelty, but from impatience.

    Patience Looks Like:

    • Choosing not to play immediately
    • Delaying escalation until trust deepens
    • Revisiting negotiations after reflection
    • Respecting a “not yet” or “not today”

    The strongest dynamics and deepest intimacy come from one thing: time.

  • How I Learned to Mitigate the Risk of Consent Incidents (The Hard Way)

    This is my story of how I learned the painful, exhausting, and sometimes devastating lessons around mitigating the risk of being involved in a consent incident. Not from the outside looking in, but from the center of the storm.

    This is for tops, bottoms, switches, educators, and anyone who chooses to step into kink, rope, or any play rooted in trust and vulnerability. You need to know that even when your heart is open, your art is honest, and your purpose is righteous, harm can still happen. And when it does, it hits hard.

    Consent culture is evolving. But too often, I watched people jump into scenes without trust, relying on vibes and shared kinks instead of real connection. I used to be one of them. I thought, “We’re all adults, we can make our own decisions. We’re responsible for ourselves.”

    I ignored the murmurs in the background. I saw how white men treated Black women—cold, clinical, dehumanized. I watched Black men reach for liberation through rope but wrap anything unfamiliar in layers of homophobia or queerphobia. I scrolled through images of kink online and rarely saw anyone who looked like me. So I opened myself up. I made space. I became the safe one, the one people came to when they wanted to feel beauty in rope.

    I didn’t have mentors. I didn’t have a blueprint. But I created something anyway—a community that centered Blackness, queerness, pleasure, and power. I saw how the gatekeepers hoarded knowledge, access, opportunity. I saw how Black folks were made to feel like they were too big, too loud, too broken to belong. And I said, “Fuck that.” I made a space where they could be everything.

    At first, we were unstoppable. Ten of us. Then twenty. Then hundreds. We showed up in numbers, in cloaks and rope, wild with freedom. People called us a cult. We laughed.

    Then the rumors came. Orgies. Drugs. Chaos. We ignored them. We were building something real. But I made a mistake. The first time I was accused of a consent violation, it stunned me. They said I touched them in a way we hadn’t agreed to. But I had witnesses who backed me up. It didn’t matter. I was banned anyway.

    We brushed it off. Moved on. Months later, I got an apology. But it didn’t end there. The harassment continued. No matter what I did or said, they followed me. They talked about me. They poisoned my name. And still, we kept going. We made our own spaces. We wrote our own rules—strict ones, because people were out here doing wild, unsafe, and reckless shit. We were trying to protect everyone, including ourselves.

    But the rumors grew. No one asked us what was true. They just saw the robes, the ritual, the joy we created—and assumed the worst. We opened our doors to the timid, the confused, the baby kinksters who were still learning. We accepted them because we thought that’s what community does. But some of them weren’t ready. And when things went wrong, they didn’t talk to us. They talked about us.

    We started education programs to stop the cycle of ignorance. That pissed people off. We taught anyway. Our classes were full. Our name was loud. And then I made another mistake. No one was hurt, but it didn’t matter. The rumors changed shape. Now, I was a predator. A monster. The kind of person who makes people shiver.

    They came back. The person from years ago. And now others, nameless and faceless, whispered in shadows. I went from being a safe space to the villain.

    I was never asked. Never spoken to. Just banned. Silenced. Exiled from spaces I helped build, spaces that needed our presence to even survive.

    And then the whispers made it into our home. The people I built this with started doubting. Started drifting. The weight of it all crushed us.

    I wish I had known. Not just as an individual, but as a leader. I wish I had understood the risks of open doors and unguarded hearts. I wish I had seen that being righteous doesn’t mean you’re protected. That building something beautiful doesn’t make you immune.

    Now, I know. Consent isn’t just about negotiation—it’s about capacity. It’s about readiness. It’s about knowing that the loudest harm doesn’t always come from predators—it comes from misunderstanding, emotional immaturity, or silence.

    So I offer this story to those who are building, creating, tying, teaching. Vet. Move slow. Ask the hard questions. Know who you’re in scene with, who you’re building with, who you’re trusting. Trust your gut. Listen to the whispers before they become storms.

    And remember, even if you do everything right, harm can still happen. What matters is how you respond.

    Let this be the start of deeper reflection. Stronger boundaries. Clearer communication. And if you’re like me—if you’ve had to learn through fire—let this also be a reminder: you’re not alone. And your story still matters.

    Rope is powerful. So are you. Act accordingly.

  • Sex Magick: Pleasure and Power

    Sex Magick isn’t just about orgasms—it’s about opening

    It’s the alchemy of breath, sweat, intention, and ecstasy. It’s the knowing that our pleasure isn’t profane.

    It’s prayer wrapped in skin. It’s the sacred technology of our ancestors, modernized and unapologetic

    ✦ Manifestation Through Flesh

    When I fuck with intention, I’m not just reaching climax—I’m casting.
    Each moan, each thrust, each wave of pleasure is a spell in motion. I’ve charged sigils with the pulsing heat of arousal. Whispered desires into the dark. Pushed visions of love, wealth, power into the ethers

    ✦ Ascension Through Sensation

    Sex is the serpent on the spine.
    I’ve raised kundalini with my back arched in worship, felt chakras crack open like thunder under the weight of another’s body. I’ve dissolved mid-orgasm, weeping from the sheer too-muchness of it all.

    Sex can be the door. Pleasure is the key.

    ✦ Shadow Work in the Sheets

    Sex Magick will show you your shit.
    I’ve touched old wounds mid-touch. Felt grief rise up in the heat of desire. Cried through climax. Laughed through shame. This work is deep—it will pull out your buried. It will demand your presence. It will transform.

    When you love your body loudly, when you let yourself feel fully—you heal. You reclaim.

    ✦ Alchemical Becoming

    I’ve used sex to shapeshift.
    To dissolve one identity and call forth another. To rewire my beliefs about worth, power, beauty. To become mythic. God-body. Spirit-skin. Pleasure is a spell that can mold the clay of self.

    Don’t sleep on the erotic as a tool of transformation.✦ Alchemical Becoming

    I’ve used sex to shapeshift.
    To dissolve one identity and call forth another. To rewire my beliefs about worth, power, beauty. To become mythic. God-body. Spirit-kin. Pleasure is a spell that can mold the clay of self.

    Don’t sleep on the erotic as a tool of transformation.

    ✦ Psychic Linking & Spiritual Bonding

    I’ve tied soul knots in bed. Formed sacred bonds through shared breath and bruises. Felt another’s thoughts mid-fuck. Merged energy fields. Called spirits as a silent witnesses. Sex is not just physical

    When done with intention, it becomes a way to merge. To commune. To co-create.

    ✦ Offerings of Orgasm

    I’ve moaned .Given my climax. Offered my bodyin devotion. Sex is a portal, and orgasm is one of the oldest sacrifices. Energy knows the taste of ecstasy. And when you invite it—they cum.

    That is not metaphor.

    ✦ Cultivating Power & Fire

    Through practice —I’ve built a storms inside myself. Stored energy. Directed it. Used it to strengthen my presence. Sex Magick teaches you to contain the fire as much as release it.

    When you learn to wield your turn-on, you become dangerous in the best way.

    ✦ Pleasure as Devotion

    I fuck to honor the divine.
    To worship the body. To remind myself that joy is holy. That my flesh, my desire—is worthy of reverence. Every act of erotic celebration is a defiance. Every orgasm is a resurrection.

    I don’t pray on my knees. I pray with my whole body.

  • Bondage as Strength

    You already know this isn’t about beauty anymore.

    it’s not about seduction. or sex. It’s not even about rope.
    This is about something old dying so something honest can be born.
    The ordeal. The test.
    The threshold that burns people clean.

    This is the part where pain stops being a threat, and starts becoming a teacher.
    Where the rope becomes a mirror.
    Where the body becomes a question only the spirit can answer.

    You’ve seen it happen.
    The shaking. The trance. The surrender. The screaming that turns into silence.
    You’ve seen people come undone and somehow walk away more whole .

    And you’ve felt it —how the rope holds up a mirror to your limits, your own wounds, your own shadow.

    You know this path well.
    This is Ordeal. And you’re here to guide others into it and be guided in return deliberately.
    Every culture has known it. Initiation, Scarification, pilgrimage, sweat lodges, crucifixion rites, isolation rituals, vision quests, self-flagellation.
    Pain was never the goal—it was the doorway. It was the language of the divine

    Pain is not the problem.
    Pain is information. Pain is presence. Pain is the moment the soul stops lying to itself.
    Modern medicine has numbs us to it. now pain only requires anesthesia and theroy. But Pain is the alchemy that renovates soul—transmuting indifference when pain intervenes

    Don’t confuse ordeal work with edge play. Or Therapy
    Edge play flirts with limits. While Ordeal work _steps past them_
    We are not leading people to their edge—you’re taking them over it, and bringing them back changed

    Everyone has parts of themselves they’ve disowned, shamed, denied.
    Rope makes it impossible to hide from that. When you bind the body, you unbind the truth.
    When people start shaking or sobbing mid-scene—it’s not always about the rope.

    Sometimes its a opened memory. Sometimes its fear. Sometimes its rage. Sometimes its desire so deep you finally notice you standing there all along.
    All of that is valid. All of that belongs.
    That’s Radical Acceptance, the goal isn’t to avoid anything but to walk into it with your eyes wide open. sit beside the demon and ask what it needs. and listen. what you exile is not gone whether you welcome it or not

    You are a anchor it making space for the silence, making room for the unseen, Because it’s never been about the rope and what it is doing. but what the rope is waking up

  • Having Is Evidence of Wanting You Love that Pile of Shit

    Tell the truth Recently, I had a conversation with a family member—someone I love, but who has this looping tale they tell, over and over again: _“People never respect me. No one honors my boundaries. I’m always being taken advantage of.”_

    And of course, I listened. I nodded. I offered empathy. But eventually, I thought of Existential Kink By Carolyn Elliot , I couldn’t resist slipping into my kink and I gently asked:

    “What if part of you actually _likes_ it?”

    Their face changed, Their whole body stiffened, eyes flashing.
    And then came the chant,

    “I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I _hate_ it.”

    They went into a kind of trance like egoic possession.

    And there it was: _evidence._

    Because the idea that we could _secretly enjoy_ our suffering is so taboo, so offensive, so _kinky_, that most people’s egos can’t handle it. We’ve been so programmed to believe we’re only allowed to desire good things—light, love, abundance, healing—that we’ve cut ourselves off from the darker, equally potent eroticism of failure, frustration, humiliation, rejection.

    But BAAAABBBBYYYYY, let’s be real:
    That red-hot flush of shame you feel when you’re rejected?
    That stuck, paralyzed feeling when you can’t create or move or rise?
    That humiliating little drama you keep reliving in love or money or body?

    That’s not _just_ pain. That’s arousal.
    That’s your psychic masochist doing her damn job.

    “Fear is excitement without the breath,” Fritz Perls said.

    and pain is _pleasure without approval_?

    I felt it with my family member. Their loop—the one they claimed to hate—was _lit up_ with psychic charge. The pain was electric. Addictive. And they weren’t ready to feel the truth beneath it:

    “I actually love this freaky shit, unconsciously of course.
    I get off on being disrespected.
    I love standing in this pile of shit because my pile of shit._
    And I’ve unconsciously do this again and again.”

    That admission? That’s the key part.
    When we consciously embrace our unconscious kink, the pattern loses its compulsion. The taboo loses some luster. The shame becomes a choice. And we regain out power.

    This is about looking deep enough into your own psyche to _own_ the pleasure that’s been running the show behind the scenes.

    Because as long as you insist you hate it—without ever allowing for the erotic charge of it—you’ll stay stuck with it.

    But once you say:

    _“Okay, fine. I do enjoy being stuck.
    I do enjoy being broke.
    I do enjoy feeling unseen.
    I do enjoy the cycle of almost getting there, but not quite.”_

    Then you can ask:
    “What part of me wants this? And what does it _need_ to feel satisfied?”

    that’s where the magic happens.

    Because the game here isn’t to _abolish_ the kink.
    It’s to make the kink conscious.

    Let’s be clear: _none of us invented this shit alone._

    They belong to the collective shadow. To our lineages. To the traumas of civilization. To the twisted divine that clearly gets off on the entire opera of human pain.

    We’re not separate from that. We _are_ that. your kinky little Godself, playing out a drama so dense its got your l thighs clench and your loving it.

    Your stagnation, your heartbreak, your sabotage?

    It’s not random. It’s not a punishment. you are fucking jacking off

    And once you let yourself _feel_ the secret pleasure in that, really _receive_ it—without shame, without guilt. you can get better toy baby we got you

    Having is evidence of wanting. I’m not blaming

    But in a deeply magical, wildly empowering, power-bottom-of-the-soul kind of way.

    We don’t get what we consciously want.
    We get what we unconscious craves.

    So stop denying your desire for drama.
    Get _off_ on it.
    And then—once you’ve truly savored it. Find something new

    Because that’s how the real magic happens, slut.

  • Hollow Smiles and A Velvet Thrones

    …breath that catches, through heat rising in the belly.

    This time, she came whispering about needs versus strategies.

    I didn’t recognize the difference at first. How easily we miss each other. like boats passing in the night. I’ve spent so long trying to survive that I blurred the line between the two. It’s subtle, but different strategies—like requests or desires—are about specifics. While needs? Needs are different. They’re universal truths we all carry.

    “Your needs are not too much. And they are not the same as the strategies you use to fulfill them.”

    For so long, I was confused.

    I’d say: _Call me, see me, don’t leave me, change for me._
    What I meant was: _I need connection. I need reassurance. I need to be seen._

    But I didn’t have the language. I only had the longing, the shame—and I’d end up analyzing or criticizing.
    “You’re selfish.”
    “You never listen.”

    I didn’t know I could just _name the need_.
    So vulnerable. So exposed.

    Not make someone responsible.
    Not demand a script.

    Just… that I have the right to say:
    _I need care._
    _I need respect._
    _I need room._

    Once I could name my needs, I became aware of my strategies—how I cope with the fear of my needs not being met.

    They are the most human part of me.

    When I lose sight of the truth, I trap myself. I stop seeing possibility.

    It all comes back to this: Be here, now, with what’s real. That’s the gift.

    I think about all the times .
    “I didn’t know how to ask for…”
    “I didn’t know how to say…”
    “I didn’t know how to take ‘no’ as anything other than proof I was unworthy.”

    It fucking sucks to learn this now—unseen, unspoken, unmet needs.

    To realize: I was simply trying to survive.

    That kind of shift—the one that doesn’t need to scream, that doesn’t collapse—it just _is_.

    To name what you feel.
    To honor what you need.
    To ask.

    And when I really get quiet and sit still, I feel it—that sense that our needs aren’t separate.

    We all just want to be whole.

  • The Three Steps to Effective Conversation

    1.Lead with presence.

    2.Come from curiosity and care.

    3.Focus on what matters.

    The First Foundation: Presence

    Effective communication requires presence.

    •Given the complexity of communication, transformation occurs most readily through small shifts sustained over time.

    •Presence lays the ground for connection.

    •Lead with presence; begin conversation with awareness, return to and strive to maintain that awareness, and be honest with oneself about what’s happening.

    •The more aware we are, the more choice we have.

    •Leading with presence includes mutuality, seeing the other person as an autonomous individual, and uncertainty, acknowledging and accepting the unknown, both of which create new possibilities in dialogue.

    The Second Foundation: Intention

    Intention determines direction.

    •Our intentions, views, and experiences reinforce each other: views determine intentions, intentions shape experiences, and experiences confirm our views. Shifting our view therefore can change our intentions and our experience.

    •Being aware of our habitual conflict styles allows us to transform the underlying beliefs and emotions that hold them in place and to make different choices.

    •The less blame and criticism, the easier it is for others to hear us.

    •Everything we do, we do to meet a need.

    •People are more likely to listen when they feel heard. To build understanding, reflect before you respond.

    The Third Foundation: Attention

    Attention shapes experience.

    •The more we are able to differentiate between our strategies and needs, the more clarity and choice we have.

    •The more we understand one another, the easier it is to find solutions that work for everyone. Therefore, establish as much mutual understanding as possible before problem solving.

    •Being aware of our emotions supports our ability to choose consciously how we participate in a conversation.

    •The more we take responsibility for our feelings, connecting them to our own needs rather than to others’ actions, the easier it is for others to hear us.

    •The more we hear others’ feelings as a reflection of their needs, the easier it is to understand them without hearing blame, needing to agree, or feeling responsible for their emotions.

    •Having empathy for ourselves increases our capacity to listen to others, whether or not they have the space to listen to us.

    •Stating clearly what happened, without judgment or evaluation, makes it easier for someone to hear us and to work toward a solution.

    •Translating judgments into observations, feelings, and needs can yield valuable information about what is and isn’t working and provide clues for how to move forward.

    •When giving feedback, be specific about what is and isn’t working and why, which makes it easier to learn.

    •The clearer we are about what we want and why, the more creative we can be about how to make it happen.

    •Have ideas for strategies that meet as many needs as possible, which invites others to look for creative solutions.

    •Stating how a conversation can contribute to both of us helps create buy-in and willingness.

    •Whenever possible, check if the other person feels understood before moving on to a new topic or shifting the center of attention to your own experience.

    •We have more clarity and power when we use fewer words with more sincerity. Speaking in short, succinct chunks makes it easier for others to understand us.

    •Attending to our own reactivity, noticing the rise of activation and supporting the calm of deactivation, can help us make wiser choices about what to say and when.

    •When in conflict, if we aim to listen to the other person first it increases the chances that they will be willing to listen to us.

  • Words That Land: Say It With Your Chest and Your Spirit @DiorTheGoddess

    Requests for Dialogue

    •“Would you be willing to take some time to have a conversation with me about [topic]?”

    •“Could we sit down together and look at what we both need to see if we can find a way to work this out?”

    Offering Empathy

    •“Let me see if I’m understanding. What I’m getting is…?”

    •“I want to make sure I’m getting it. It sounds like…?”

    •“Here’s what I’m hearing…Is that right?”

    Eliciting Information

    •“Tell me more.”

    •“Anything else you’d like me to understand about this?”

    Requests for Empathy

    •“What would be most helpful for me is just to be heard. Would you be willing to listen for a bit and tell me what you’re hearing?”

    •“I just said a lot and I’m not sure it all came out the way I was intending. Could you tell me what you got from all that?”

    •“What I just said is really important to me. Would you be willing to tell me what you’re getting?”

    Inserting a Pause

    •“I’d like a moment to gather my thoughts.”

    •“I’m not sure. Let me think about that.”

    •“This sounds important. I’d like to give it some time.”

    •“I’d like some time to take that in. Can we pause here for a moment?”

    Taking a Break: To Pause a Conversation

    •“I’d really like to continue our conversation, and I’m not in the best frame of mind to do that right now. Can we take a break and come back to this…?”

    •“I’d really like to hear what you have to say, and I’m feeling a little overwhelmed, so I don’t think I’ll be able to listen well. Could we take a break and continue tomorrow?”

    •“I’m committed to figuring this out together and don’t quite have the space to think clearly now. Can we put this on hold until…?”

    •“I want to finish our conversation, and I don’t think anything else I say right now will be useful. Could we take a break until…”

    •“I’d really like to hear what you have to say, but the way you’re saying it is making that very difficult. I wonder if you’d be willing to…

    …try explaining what’s happening for you in a different way?”

    …take a break until we’ve both had a chance to reflect on this?”

    …let me have a moment to tell you what’s going on for me?”

    Interrupting

    •“Let me make sure I’m still with you…”

    •“I want to make sure I’m getting everything you said. Can we pause for a moment so I can make sure I’m following it all?”

    •“I want to hear the rest of what you’re saying, and I’m starting to lose track. Can I summarize what I’m hearing so far?”

    •“I want you to continue, but I’m a bit confused. May I ask a question?”

    •“I want to keep listening, and there’s something I want to clarify. May I respond for a moment?”

    Redirecting

    •“I’m glad you mention that. Before we go there, I’d like to say one or two more things about…”

    •“I appreciate you bringing that up. I want to discuss that in a minute, but first I’d like to touch on…”

    •“Yes, that’s important. Can we finish talking about this first, and come back to that in a moment?”

    Hearing No

    •“I’m curious to know, why not? Could you share more?”

    •“What’s leading you to say no? Do you have other ideas?”

    •“Can we take some time to brainstorm ideas that could work for both of us?”

    •“What would you need to know, or what could I do, to make it possible for you to say yes?”

    Saying No

    •“I’d like to say yes, and here’s what’s getting in the way of that right now.”

    •“I’m hearing how important this is to you, and I’m not seeing how I can make it work given that I also have a need for…Could we explore some other options that might work for you?”

    •“I can’t agree to that without a significant cost to myself in terms of…[other needs]. Would it work for you if we tried…instead?”

    Requests for Do-Overs

    •“That didn’t come out quite right. Can I try that again?”

    •“I feel like we got off to the wrong start. Could we start over?”

    •“I’m concerned some of the things I said aren’t helping. Would you be willing to let me try again?”

    •“Things didn’t really go the way I was hoping when we talked. Could we try having the conversation again?

  • Nonviolent Communication by Marshall Rosenberg Review

    seriously this book is casting out spirits disguised as a communication manual.

    Marshall Rosenberg didn’t just hand me a tool, he handed me a mirror, and a scalpel. and said get to work.

    This book is not about how to “communicate better.” It’s about how to stop speaking like a colonizer. and how to stop letting the colonizer speak through you.

    This was a wake up call to how much of our everyday speech is laced with violence, shame, and guilt. This book really pulled back the veil of socially acceptable manipulation and all the ways we’ve learned to control, manipulate, and people.

    Most of what we call “communication” is a poorly disguised threat without even realizing it.

    Judgement, blame and guilt are expressions of our own unmet needs.””survival stragtegies” we us to avoid facing fact we dont know what we need and hoping someone else can figure it out for us.

    The book said “All criticism, attack, and insult vanish when we listen for feelings and needs.”

    How everytime you hear the word “should” or “I have to,” you’re handing your agency to the abyss. and saying Fuck it. you’re outsourcing your power. you’re kicking your inner child on your way out the door…. again

    When you been taught to that sacrifice = love, when actually… your just neglecting your needs and Wearing your pain like it’s a badge of honor.

    What sucked and was heard to swallow was “Nobody makes you feel anything.” The way I interpret what someone says or does is on me. “Anger isn’t about anyone else. It’s about your unmet needs.” see that one i need a minute ….

    “The difference between a request and a demand is what happens when someone says no.” Ouch. you see what i mean?

    This man said : “Depression is your reward, for being good.” like wtf!!!!!!!

    That we are taught to be good, be obedient, be productive, and above all be quiet your actual needs.

    What the real struggle is: Don’t label. Don’t judge. Just say what’s happening, say what you feel, say what you need, and clearly, concisly, ask. Language is a spell to liberate, not to control. Guilt, shame, blame? Just masks to avoid your needs.

    This book is not gentle. But it will help you grow.

    Rosenberg is calling for a revolution dismantling the internalized systems of domination that keep us distant from ourselves and each other. He teaches you how to get real and get in touch with your needs. He’s asking us to speak in a language of life. A language of need. A language of choice.

    And honestly? That shit slaps.
    Highly recommend

  • I was talking to a goddess

    She didn’t speak in words, but in heat, in breath, in the ache behind my ribs:
    “You are not responsible for their feelings.”

    …I used to believe otherwise.

    I shackled my worth to people’s moods, contorted myself into someone else’s idea.
    I made myself small.
    I apologized for existing.
    The fear of abandonment, of rejection, of being too much and not enough at the same time.
    Boy, what a time.

    Then came the revolt.

    I told myself I didn’t care.
    I wore detachment like armor.
    If I couldn’t please them—fuck them.
    I became loud with boundaries and quiet with vulnerability.
    But I wasn’t free.
    I was still ruled—by them.

    Then came a knowing:
    That I can hold space without setting myself aflame.
    That my needs matter.
    And that theirs did too.

    I was not taught this.
    I was taught to blame—either myself or them.
    I was taught to focus on them and to lose myself.
    I’ve learned: feelings are not caused by others, but shaped by how we receive them—filtered through our own needs and expectations.
    Now, my work is to OWN that.

    This is hard to learn.
    Trauma trained me to see everything and everyone as dangerous.
    I forgot how to play.
    I forgot how to imagine.
    But my body remembered, even when my mind forgot.
    And shame clung deep.

    But pleasure is not sin.

    So I began to ask myself:
    What makes me feel good?
    Can I ask—clearly—for what I want?
    Can I speak in a language that is not vague or coded in shame?

    Instead of “Don’t ignore me,”
    I would say, “Would you be willing to check in?”

    Instead of “You don’t care,”
    I would say, “I feel lonely and need connection.”

    This is power.

    I wasn’t given these tools—I had to make them.
    Walking around yearning, yet terrified to feel it.

    Risk, with clarity.

    For the child in me who never learned.
    For the adult in me who is still learning.
    Knowing it’s safe to say:

    I don’t know where I’m going.
    But I promise: I know the way.