A Submissive's Journal

Maybe I’m about to do a little “poor me.” Maybe I’m about to play the fucking weak one for once.

And you know what?

This is my blog. This is real life. And I’m pretty sure there’s someone out there who can relate.

I’m there for everyone. Or at least, I try to be.

I listen. I help. I mediate. I try to understand everyone’s side. I try to make people feel heard. I try to help people heal.

But sometimes I can’t get too deep into things because I don’t want to become too much a part of everyone else’s problems.

Because here’s the reality:

I’m not your counselor. I’m not your fucking therapist. I’m not licensed.

If I was, you’d probably be paying me.

I’m your friend.

But I’m also human.

I’m mentally exhausted.

I’m a single mom.

I’m dealing with my own depression.

I’m hormonal because, well… that time of the month decided to show up and make everything feel ten times harder.

I’m tired because I stay up way too late at night wondering what the hell I’m doing with my life and whether I’m doing any of it right.

I’m emotionally drained to the point where regulating my own emotions can feel impossible sometimes. I can get constructive criticism at work because I made a mistake, and suddenly I want to cry because somewhere in my brain, making a mistake feels like I failed at being perfect.

And I’m not supposed to be perfect.

But sometimes my brain doesn’t understand that.

In 2024, I was there for everybody.

And somehow, two years later, I find myself doing the exact same thing again.

I built a community. I wanted it to be a safe space. A place where people could learn, talk, connect, and feel like they belonged.

But lately?

I’m tired of the drama.

I’m tired of trying to hold together something that maybe doesn’t need to be held together.

Because that’s the thing about building a safe-space community:

People aren’t always going to get along. And that’s okay.

People are allowed to disagree.

People are allowed to walk away.

People are allowed to block each other.

People are allowed to decide that someone isn’t good for them anymore.

And maybe I need to allow myself to do the same thing.

The problem is… I don’t like walking away.

I don’t like blocking people.

Because I care.

I want to hear everyone’s feelings. I want to understand where everyone is coming from. I want to help people. I want to fix things. I want people to feel better.

I genuinely like helping people heal.

But sometimes…

I really just want to tell everyone to fuck off and leave me alone.

And the funny thing?

I usually don’t.

Maybe I should.

Maybe I need to stop feeling responsible for everyone’s emotions.

Maybe I need to stop believing that because I created a community, I have to personally carry every problem that happens inside of it.

Maybe I need to remember that being a safe person for others doesn’t mean I have to sacrifice myself to keep everyone else comfortable.

So maybe this is just me venting into a blog that probably nobody is going to read.

And honestly?

Maybe that’s exactly what I need.

Because if I disappear for a little while, you guys know why.

Maybe I’m not disappearing because I stopped caring.

Maybe I’m disappearing because I finally need to care about myself, too.

Maybe I need to focus on what I’m actually supposed to be building right now.

Maybe I need to focus on my life.

My kids.

My future.

My own mental health.

My own healing.

And for once, maybe I need to let everyone else’s feelings be someone else’s responsibility.

Because honestly?

Right now, they don’t matter more than mine do.

And that doesn’t make me selfish.

It makes me human.