When The Sh*t Hits The Fan…


Change sucks. To be fair, MOST of the changes I’ve had to make in my life ended up being really good for me. But those first few weeks of getting used to something new are incredibly hard emotionally, mentally and sometimes physically.

Four weeks ago Master Jason told me he was not attracted to me physically anymore. I was crushed. I know I’ve put on weight, I know I need to lose weight, but to hear it put so… bluntly… hurt. He said that my lack of motivation, my current state of depression and the added weight were causing him to seriously consider leaving me. He said that being married to someone who didn’t seem to have any real goals in life, and wasn’t working on any was “embarrassing” and that he was tired of it.

Now some of you might be thinking Master Jason is a horrible person for saying those things to me. And at the time, I would have agreed. And I still think he could have said it more gently, but then again… maybe he’d been trying to be gentle about it in the past and I just didn’t listen to him. For the past 5 years he has tried to get me to workout more, bought me a treadmill so I didn’t have to run in the super cold or super heat of New York winters and Texas summers, bought me countless weight loss programs (DVD’s, fitness trackers, random fitness gear, etc) and spent money on workout clothes, tools, shoes, etc. And every time I would get started, I ended up giving up pretty quickly. Part of this may be because of my ADHD. Part of it is because of my depression (it comes and goes, thankfully it’s not as bad as it once was but there have definitely been some dark times where I just wanted cookies and sleep instead of exercise and salads).

After telling me all of this, he left for work. I wasn’t sure if he was going to come home or not. I was devastated, broken, and extremely angry. How dare he dump that kind of news on me and then just go off to work like nothing was wrong! How dare he tell me I was failing at life! That I was an embarrassment to him! Had he not seen how much I have accomplished in the past five years?!

I bounced between crying my eyes out and being angry enough to want to throw things (but I didn’t throw things. Mostly because I’d have to then clean up those things and any mess they made along their flight path).  The crazy part is that all of this came out about a week after I’d started going back to therapy. I can’t help but wonder if he understood that the meds I had just been put on (for ADHD and for depression) take about 2 weeks to work fully (at least, that’s how long it takes my body to get used to them and for real progress to be made). And in that first week I had a meltdown and confessed to him that I felt like I wasn’t going anywhere in life. In my darkest moment, he listened to what I’d said and then turned it on me and used it against me as a list of reasons he was no longer attracted to me. Fury boiled in my veins. I vowed to change, but not for him. I vowed to lose the weight, but not for him. I vowed to get back on track with school, but not for him. I was going to do all of this stuff for me. Fuck him. Fuck his words. Fuck his lack of attraction to me. I don’t need him. I need to be in a place where I can stand on my own two feet and thrive whether I’m alone or attached. I need to be my own person.

I went for a run. I had already been planning to start running again and I had already marked that day as my first day to go for a run. I took that fury running through my blood and I hit the pavement with it. I ran fast. I ran far. And then I walked. And then I ran. I did the couch to 5k day one (which is what I had been planning on doing anyway because I like how it eases me into running). I turned on a “break up songs” playlist full blast and I just ran. When my run was over, I came home and looked up various stretching routines. I refused to even log in to the messenger program Master Jason and I use to chat on while he’s at work. I didn’t want to speak to him. I wasn’t ready to speak to him.

I talked with my galpals. I called my mom. I called my therapist and made an appointment for the next day. I sat down and I drew up a list of things that needed to be done if Master Jason was actually leaving me, who I needed to call, what I needed to prepare for, etc. I emailed a lawyer friend in Los Angeles and asked for references to divorce attorneys up here in San Francisco and marriage counselors (since some attorneys have the numbers to both stored away just in case). I researched “Husband wants a divorce” and “Husband says I’m too fat” on Google and read through countless blogs from other women who were in my situation.

Because I was back on my ADHD medication, after I had finished all of this it was only 12pm and I still had several hours to kill before the kids came home and even longer before Master Jason was due back home. I called my primary care physician and set up an appointment with him so that I could make sure that whatever weight loss journey I set myself on next was doctor approved. Then I cleaned the fuck out of the house. I swept, mopped, dusted, polished, and organized until the garage door sounded and I knew someone was home from school. Then I started dinner prep. By the time Master Jason finally came home I was too tired to think straight and definitely too tired to argue. I tried very hard not to glare at him or say something hurtful and I put in my earplugs and just went to bed.

The next day I met with my therapist. We talked about my plan. We discussed my plans for if Master Jason was serious and decided to leave me and if he was just voicing his opinion but had not actually decided to leave me just yet. I made a plan to swing by the local community college near me and sign up for classes this spring (on the off chance that I’m still here in California) and I made a plan to call a couple of lawyers and get some sound advice. Then I went to my regular doctor and had a complete blood workup done. We tested for everything. He said I would get the results back in about 4 weeks (which is now, my appointment is this week actually) and he mentioned that my thyroid felt a little large and so he was ordering extra tests for that. He said that my goal to lose 2 pounds a week was certainly doable but that it would be HARD and suggested that I aim for 1 pound a week instead, but I was determined. I told him that if he was giving me his “okay” I was going to aim for those 2 pounds a week. I understood just how difficult it was going to be. I’ve been here before, but I don’t think I’ve ever been this determined to lose the weight before. He asked what had me so motivated. I narrowed my eyes and sat up straighter and said “I need to prove my husband wrong.” and he laughed and said he had no doubt I would do just that.

When Jason came home from work that day we sat down and talked. I told him that if he was serious about leaving me, I needed a date of when he planned to move out. If he wanted to work on this, then I had the numbers to several marriage counselors we could go to. I explained everything I had learned from my research on divorce in California. I explained my plans (both with and without him) and I told him I was enrolling in school full time this spring, but that obviously I can’t go back full time if we’re not together. I asked that he give me one more chance. I did not beg. I did not fall apart. I did not cry. I presented what I’d learned, what I’d already accomplished and then I shut up and listened to him talk. I did not allow my emotions to control my reactions to what he said. (Thankfully, my therapist had upped my Prozac dose just a tad so that I could be comfortably numb for this conversation. I knew that being overly emotional was NOT going to work for me).

He admitted to being blunt and harsh in his comments. He said he didn’t want to give up just yet but that if I didn’t make some serious changes he didn’t feel like he had another option available to him. He admitted that I am not 100% at fault for our lack of communication lately or our marital issues. He said he wasn’t sure if he wanted to go to counseling together just yet, but that he would continue to pay for me to go to therapy on my own (and at this point, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go to marriage counseling with him just yet either. I was still mad, I wasn’t sure I could sit in a room with him and a therapist and listen to anything other than my own anger rumbling in my ears). In the state of California you have to be separated for at least six months before you can get a divorce (in most situations). We agreed that we were not financially ready for that step and that we definitely did not want to upset the children with that kind of move until we were sure this was over and since neither of us was actually sure the relationship was truly over, we decided to stick it out and figure it out for the time being.

It has been four weeks since that day. I have stuck to my guns and run every other day. The only time I skipped a run was when I was extremely exhausted and knew that if I pushed myself, I was going to regret it. I slept for 14 hours that day and then 12 hours the next day and then got back on schedule and ran the day after that.

I have stuck to a very strenuous diet. I stopped eating simple carbs (no rice, no potatoes, no pasta, and very, very little bread/flour if any at all). I aimed for and stuck to a diet goal of 1,500 calories per day. I stopped eating any exercise calories I had “earned back”. I played around with different recipes that called for mostly vegetables like spinach, zucchini, squash and broccoli. I ignored the urge to point out every little success to Master Jason. I was not sharing them with him. I couldn’t. If he didn’t celebrate them with me, or notice them on his own, I refused to be crushed by that. I made a point to be more than just civil around him. I made a point to be friendly, but not desperate. I made daily schedules for myself and stuck to them. I kept going to therapy, I stuck to taking my meds every day and I kept the house practically spotless. I filled every non-run day with enough tasks or naps that I didn’t really have free time to fall apart and on run days I was too tired to fall apart.

I read books on ADHD and being organized. I read books on Asperger’s and marriage (Master Jason has Asperger’s, I have ADHD). I read Runner’s World Magazine and their book “The Beginner’s Guide to Running”. I read about diet, fitness, exercise, healthy eating. I joined several groups dedicated to weight loss, progress photos and healthy recipes on Reddit. I took photos of my body at the beginning before I’d even gone for my first run, and again two weeks later, and again two weeks after that (yesterday). I kept track of my calories, my weight, my measurements.

It has been four weeks and I have lost 22 pounds. Master Jason says he’s proud of me. He says he’s finding himself more attracted to me now. I am only half listening though. I know in my heart that what he said to me four weeks ago will take a long time to recover from. I know that he was being honest and for that I guess I’m grateful, but it still hurts to think about. So I don’t focus on that. I focus on where I am going from here. I have a plan: get fit, get my degree, figure it out from there. Prove that I can do this, with or without him. Get to a point where I am independent enough that if I choose to stay, it’s because I WANT to stay and not because I NEED to.

I am proud of my progress. I am proud of how far I have come. I am proud of the woman I am becoming. It isn’t easy to hear that you’re not the person your lover wants you to be, or hopes you would be. It wasn’t easy to hear that I had let myself get to a point where he didn’t find me attractive any more. It certainly wasn’t easy admitting that he was right and admitting that I had let myself go. And it sure as fuck wasn’t easy sticking to a strict diet or getting out there every other day and running, rain or shine, cold or hot. But I’m doing it!

I don’t know where we will be in the coming years. I can’t really focus on that right now. I am choosing to focus on what I can change right now. So far it’s working for me.

New Beginnings after ten months away…

This has very little to do with the following post, but I liked the bright colors and it's late at night so I picked it.

This has very little to do with the following post, but I liked the bright colors and it’s late at night so I picked it.

It has been 10 months since I last wrote a blog post… It’s been about three months since I’ve made any major effort on my Facebook page.

I am still alive.
I am still here.
I have been moderating comments and approving most of them. (Side note: this isn’t a dating site. Those “hey baby, how you doing? Where you from” comments will be trashed).

I am still writing, but most of my writing was school related and then summer came and I stopped writing for a while and spent time with the kids, the pets and Master Jason. Then we decided to move closer to San Francisco and Master Jason’s work and I got busy with packing and unpacking and organizing… and then I just didn’t know where to pick up and start again. It had been so long since I last wrote here.

How do I just randomly dive back into the blogging world and say “hey! I’m back! Again…” after so many long breaks? I think at this point the problem is misdirection. I’ve already written the basics for BDSM. I’ve answered countless questions, some that I’ve posted, most that I haven’t. I’ve made this into a full time job that just doesn’t pay anything. And I’ve started to write more for the fans than for the joy of writing. It’s started to wear on me and it’s come to a point where I dread it. I started this blog because I wanted an outlet where I could talk about my life, my choices and my lifestyle freely. The focus was to be on how Master Jason and I choose to view BDSM and make it work for us. How do I refocus the blog? Make it more of a menagerie of writings that is based on my life, experiences, thoughts, fantasies and feelings. I can intertwine the advice I give with other pieces of my work can’t I?

Of course I can. And how do I restart a blog I ignored for so long? That’s pretty easy to: I just start. Somewhere. Anywhere. And then I keep writing.

I don’t know where I will go from here. I don’t know how long or short the blog posts will be. I don’t even know how frequently I’ll actually be posting. But I do know that I need to get back into the habit of writing for the joy of writing and not because I feel like I owe it to anyone else.


Today I feel like writing about where the hell I’ve been and how our most recent move went:

Over the past ten months my marriage has gone from happy-go-lucky to “I fucking hate you!” and back. Ten months is a long time and lots of shit happened. Some of it I will put into words and the rest of it you’ll have to use your imagination.

We’ve put each other through hell. We moved, again. I mentioned that above but the stress that comes with moving, with having to find another place to live that just so happens to be in our budget and have great schools definitely wore on us. Master Jason’s Asperger’s kicked in hard and he stopped speaking to me for almost a full week. I was off my A.D.D. medication and therefore all over the place both emotionally and mentally. We had this toxic friend (we’ll call her Mary) that came into our lives. Mary was able to agree with every complaint Master Jason and I had against each other. She made it seem as though she was on both of our sides and then watched as we fought about anything and everything. She pretended to step in to help but in hindsight it became obvious that she was only interested in causing more of a communication gap between Master Jason and I than she was interested in seeing us really succeed. It wasn’t until after we moved that we even realized how much we had unraveled and how close we had come to just calling the marriage, the lifestyle, everything quits and moving away and on with our lives separately. I’d like to say we kept the kids out of it, but I’m sure they noticed. We weren’t mean to each other in front of them, we didn’t use them to pass messages back and forth, but they’re not stupid. They’re teenagers now. They see more and observe more than we intend for them to. They pick up on the hostility hidden in the silences. They didn’t say anything about our fighting but I’m sure they knew Daddy and I weren’t getting along just the same. Mary didn’t really help with keeping the children out of the fights either. She would come over often and usually unannounced and then want details on every fight Master Jason and I had while she wasn’t there. It got to the point where seeing her car in my driveway would set me on edge and tension would build up in my back and shoulders. I couldn’t verbalize that yet though because I barely had enough energy to get through packing up our house and taking care of the kids and mentally preparing for the next verbal battle with Master Jason… there wasn’t anything left for reflecting on my feelings towards people I thought were friends.

Shortly before the move, Mary started fucking our roommate Paul. This meant that she was still over at the house almost daily but that Master Jason and I saw very little of her. Part of the reason we were moving was to get away from Paul. We had already deduced that he was fairly toxic as a friend and definitely not a very good roommate. After living with him for two years, we could barely wait to live in a house that didn’t include him. But Mary liked him and I wanted to be happy for her. Unfortunately she had gotten what she wanted from me: access to men who made a decent living and were interested in whatever she was willing to trade for their attention. She pulled back from our friendship.

I won’t lie, it hurt. It hurt to learn that someone I had confided in, someone I had trusted, someone I had invested time in was only hanging around long enough to catch an eligible bachelor. It frustrated me to find out that I had been used as a means to an end. I took out my frustrations on Master Jason and dug deeper into the petty fights about boxes being packed, hours worked and plans for after the move. He fought equally hard, stressed out about moving in general, paying for the upfront costs that always partner with relocating, and the pure exhaustion from all of the stress we were under.

But then moving day came. Real friends showed up to help finish packing the boxes. They helped load things onto the moving van and helped us unload them back off again. Suddenly Master Jason and I were in a new house, in a new city. Something happens when you’re in a new place with everything you own in boxes surrounding you. Something changed between Master Jason and I. We went from fighting about everything to being too tired to fight at all. We were more than just emotionally drained. We were mentally exhausted and getting physically sick from the stress of watching ourselves destroy the marriage we had worked so hard to build. The house we moved to is much smaller than our old house but it’s perfectly sized for just our little family. This meant that Master Jason and I had to save our arguments for when the kids weren’t home. There wasn’t a space we could retreat to for hostile discussions. It meant we couldn’t avoid each other either. It meant that we had to deal with each other and the issues hanging in the air around us.

Ever so slowly we started doing things for each other again. I made sure that he had coffee in the mornings and I would offer to drive him into work so that we could grab breakfast at our favorite café in the city before he had to be in the office. He would complement me on my progress of unpacking and organizing the house and offer back massages when it was clear that the stress was causing further tension in my shoulders. We remembered that we were in this together and then we acted like it. It’s been five months since we moved. Five months of making an effort to go out together at least once a week just to enjoy each other’s presence. Five months of reminding ourselves of how good we are together both in the bedroom and out of it. We’ve found routines that fit our new lives here. We’re working together to build this marriage back up, stronger than it was before. We’re remembering who we are and what roles we’ve chosen to play. Slowly we’re easing back into something that feels more like “us” but with a few improvements. I’ll probably blog about those more specifically later. Right now though, it’s 3AM and Master Jason is ready for bed. He’s been playing a video game while I write. We’re both exhausted but we’re going to make the effort to fuck each other’s brains out anyway. Sex is one of the many ways we release excess tension. And then we’ll lay there, out of breath and exhausted and drift off to sleep knowing that today was a good day. There’s a deep satisfaction in knowing that the man I am sleeping next to is solid and comfortable. It’s a new version of security that I didn’t know existed, or maybe I did and I just forgot. It’s definitely worth the work it takes to make a relationship successful. He’s worth it and what’s great is, I know I’m worth it too.

To new beginnings,

–Autumn Lokerson

Lucky in Love… or just stubborn?

red symbols of love

With Valentine’s Day right around the corner, I am in the mood to talk about love and how Master Jason and I view it. I am often told that I am lucky to have found someone like Master Jason. I am asked how I managed to find such a great guy and what advice can I give to others so they can find their own great guys. The truth isn’t pretty though and I don’t have any simply answers to give.

To be fair, you only get to see half of what goes on behind closed doors. We aren’t perfect. We fight more than we want to admit, we say horrible things to each other sometimes, and we lose our tempers. I’d love to say we both put each other first more than anything else and that’s what makes us work, but that’s not always true. Sometimes I’m selfish and lots of times he’s selfish. It’s hard work, tons of compromise and a truck load of forgiveness, even if we feel let down and betrayed. Hell there are times where I wonder why the fuck I’m with him and I’m sure he feels the same. What honestly keeps us together though is our belief that all of this work we’ve poured into the relationship will pay off… and somehow it does.

I’ve been sick recently (food poisoning) and as a result I’ve been watching nothing but sappy romance movies and getting annoyed with them. Love is weird. It’s fun and loopy and butterflies in your stomach for about half a year…. and then it transforms into the kind of love that picks up socks without saying anything to the sock-dropper. It turns into understanding that sometimes espresso is better than an apology. It becomes the tiny moments of breathing deep and counting to twenty before continuing a conversation. Love is knowing that you’ve gone too far but it’s too early to say you’re sorry because the other person needs half an hour to cool off. Love is realizing that you’re too tired to start over and that it’s actually easier to keep working at the garden you’ve already planted, even if you’re sick of the sun and tired of dirt under your nails.

I still have moments where I look at Master Jason and feel like my heart is so full of love that it’s going to burst, but to be perfectly honest, I rarely feel butterflies with him anymore. I’m not lucky in love. I work hard to keep us going, he works just as hard to remind me why we’re together in the first place. Sometimes it’s easy, and some days it’s the hardest thing we’ve had to do in a long time… we’re partners, through and through. We give, we take, we talk things through, especially after a fight.  If we want those sappy moments romance movies have, we have to discuss it ahead of time and then work to make them happen. I’m the hopeless romantic in the relationship and he’s the realist. I have grand plans of what could happen and when it doesn’t turn out the way I imagined it would, he’s there to catch me and lower me slowly to the solid ground of reality. In turn, I help him to see the world through the eyes of a dreamer. It’s not Hollywood movie love and it’s not always perfect all the time. For those of you watching us, remember that you’re watching from a distance. I choose what you will or won’t see. I write it up and decide what words to use where. I try not to hide much from you all, but at the same time, I choose not to share every little detail either. True love isn’t something that just happens, it’s something that you have to work at, a lot.  In my opinion, true love isn’t really love so much as it’s stubborn determination not to give up and an almost insane obsession with hard work that might not pay off the way you wanted it to.

I think it’s important to keep that in mind as you read through my blog posts. We’re not lucky in love. We’re hard workers who are determined to make this relationship work just as hard as we do. We may not have Hollywood’s version of love, but we don’t want that version either. It’s overrated and far too fake for my tastes. I want reality. I actually like the dirt and hard work part of our version of love. I enjoy watching something I work on grow and change and blow my expectations out of the water. I don’t like giving up and I hate feeling like a failure so when that temptation knocks on my door, I change courses and think about what I need to do to keep us going. I’m sure Master Jason does the same. We make sacrifices for each other, for our children and for the relationship. We choose to stay together through thick and thin (and over the holidays there was a lot of thin)!

To us, love isn’t just a romantic dinner or great sex or how easily we “click” with each other. For Master Jason and I, love is deeper than that. It’s choosing to make dinner every night, even when you are sick of cooking. It’s not complaining about the socks on the floor two feet from the laundry basket. Love is staying within the budget, even when those shoes you’ve been eyeing for months go on sale. It’s admitting that I’m wrong and then apologizing for it. (And I hate being wrong almost as much as I hate apologizing for it). For Master Jason, love is turning off a video game so that we can talk about something that’s important to me. It’s giving me back massages even though he doesn’t really enjoy doing that. It’s learning how to word criticism in a way that doesn’t sound like an insult (like when dinner isn’t that great or my writing needs a little work).

When he’s agitated or frustrated by something, I know that a latte will help improve his mood. When I’m upset, he knows a shoulder rub will improve mine. I like where we are now. I enjoy watching our love mature and grow with us, even if it does seem to take more work now than it did in the beginning. We have our ups and our downs. Some may say we have periods of falling back in love and then out of love with each other, but honestly I think that’s just healthy. It’s not fun 100% of the time and it’s not always easy, but that’s okay. Working through those times is what makes us so great together. It’s not that we’re lucky in love, it’s that we are willing to stubbornly work through the bad times and then gracefully enjoy the good times we have together.

We’re not just lucky, we’re stubborn too, and I think it’s important that my readers realize it too. What you see on my blog is not the product of a couple who hit the love jackpot. It’s the product of hard work and effort from a couple who fell in love and is choosing to remain in love, even when it takes work.

–Autumn Lokerson

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