Closing of a Year

It’s October, my favorite holiday is just around the corner. I should be sewing, but after a mentally trying couple of weeks, I’m cuddled up with a blanket, in pink jammies with both a cat and a teddy bear at my side. I just don’t have the energy to sew at the moment. Though this relaxing time to myself right now has been great too.

With Halloween around the corner, it’s always a reminder that I’ll be another year older shortly before the holiday. Mentally, I haven’t been attached to my physical age for some time now. The thought of being 27 hurts my head. It’s crazy to me to think about that. I had so many dreams for myself at this age. It’s weird to think how drastically your thinking can change because of things that happen. 

I know this next year there will be big changes. The biggest is moving back out on my own this time. I’ve had a friend offer a place after the first and I’m seriously thinking it would be a good thing. It means buying a new sewing machine, but it would be my own space without having to worry about parents going through my things or telling me it’s all downhill after 30. It also means being able to lounge around in my frilly Lolita dresses and not getting the weird looks. 

My goal before my birthday is to have my ‘costume’ done by then. I have the day off from work and plan on wearing my Alice dress all day. I don’t care if I go out or not, I just want to dress pretty and twirl around. It will be my first birthday as an open Lolita and my 3^rd as a little. My big gift to myself this years is a beautiful kitsune ball joint doll. I’ve been waiting impatiently since sending my last payment on him. Very few people know I’ve ordered him. And I can’t wait to get my hands on him to make him cute little clothes.

I’m trying to make this year positive, at least the closing of it. I’ve learned so much and done so much. I have to focus on the positive and the good things to come.

Lines on paper

It’s October, my favorite month of the year. I decided way back in June I was going to be Alice again. I love Halloween, so I’m usually planning for the next one in December. Since I sew, I always tell myself I will start in September, but every year, it seems I’m working like a made women the last few weeks of October. Last year’s dress was sewn in a weekend. I had planned on just reusing it this year after tearing the top of it apart and fixing the goofs, but then I remembered just how much work it would be to trim it down to my current size, fix the things I massively messed up, and possible dye it a darker shade of blue. I scrapped that idea and decided it would be much less work to start from scratch.

I bought fabric in a beautiful shade of deep blue. It is a texture fabric, but it works well for what I have in mind for this version of Alice. I want to be darker and more gothicy. Plus, I have darling new Mary Janes that really needed to be shown off with a dress deserving of their awesomeness. After buying my fabric and things yesterday and washing everything, I decided today was the day to cut things out and hopefully sew.

Now, recently I’ve lost a lot of weight. Something I wasn’t trying to do at all either, which has been very nice. Today while taking out the old pattern from last year, I realized just how much weight that was. When you buy clothes, I don’t think many people realize what a huge difference sizes a couple of sizes are. I recently had to buy new things because things where falling off. My default response was, ‘Meh, you’ve just stretched out the old stuff cause you where it all the time.’, but today while cutting the pattern, it really hit home. I had made the first dress a 22 ½. I often resize patterns as I go because, well, patterns are great as a base but I customize things. The first dress was one of these Frankindresses. I also hate cutting paper patterns to size, but realized today I would have to to make the dress a size 16. When I had laid out the bodice pieces I realized just how much that was off the pattern. A 22 to a 16 was a big gap. A huge gap. Was I really that big? Needless to say that this caused a slight meltdown to where I sat and cried. I hate cutting patterns I buy, but I had to to make the dress the right size for me. But how could I have ever been that huge!? 

When I accepted the fact I was little, things like looking in the mirror took on a whole new meaning. I loved myself on the inside. So I didn’t look at the outside with the scrutiny of the average women. I loved my face and my eyes and my curves. I knew I was curvy, but I never saw myself as being huge because for the first time in forever I was happy with me, inside and out. So when I started losing weight, I didn’t notice. I honestly don’t keep track of the numbers because I think it’s stupid to stress over a number. I’ve spent so much of my life hating me, fighting with eating disorders, addiction and mental abuse that now I tend to not look at things that can cause a relapse. I am beautiful, my dress size didn’t need to tell me that.

The last month or so my parents have been raving about how great I look. That I look so much healthier and better and beautiful. I try and shrug it off because I find it a tad offensive. Wasn’t I beautiful before? I felt beautiful before. After wearing my favorite apron the other day and being told that it looks so much better on me now that it doesn’t look like it’s pasted on me, I’ve been just smiling and nodding when parentals start raving. 

I really don’t need to be on another self-hating spiral. I also know that one way or another, I’m getting out of this house early next year. No more triggers to worry about. No more being compared to siblings. My kittens will remember who their mom really is. Most importantly, I can have sippy cups and kids dishes out in plain sight without having to worry about getting the dreaded look or snide remark!

Its such silly things, I know. The past few years have been an emotional rollercoaster and honestly, I’m ready to be off of it. I’m ready to be the big little girl in the big wide world.

Scared of the Big Wide World

Last Monday, at about 3am, I awoke having an anxiety attack. The trigger you ask? The thought of going into Seattle to meet up with a very dear friend from work. I couldn’t get back to sleep. I cuddled my bear, filled my sippy cup with warm water, heck! I even tried reading and playing a game, but nothing would help calm me back down and get back to sleep. I was sure I wasn’t going to be able to go. I was counting on the fact that I would have been too exhausted and could have made up an excuse to not go. Somehow, I managed to drift back to sleep for another hour. My friend ended up having to cancel, but I made myself go into the city anyway.

Most people don’t know I have a mass fear of going out. Straying outside of my daily routine causes me to go into huge panics. Being with someone often helps, but it’s still there. This attack was triggered by the fact I’d be going into Seattle by bus alone outside of work. It’s stupid, I know. I hate myself every time it happens. I’ve canceled interviews and dates with friends in the past. Shortly after I graduated college, there was a period where I refused to leave the house without Shadow. I just couldn’t do more then take out the trash. 

Then there came a day when I made myself walk to the store. It was a few blocks down the road. I grabbed my cd player, and made the trek even though everything inside was screaming at me to stay at home. I was so proud when I made it to the store, I let myself wonder in the fabric shop too. I bought myself a package of grape tomatoes and ate every one when I got home before Shadow even got home. It was a huge deal for me. This is what began my own personal therapy to overcome the anxiety. Over the years, whenever I went out on my own, I would make sure I did a little something for myself. My favorite candy, lunch, a pretty to wear, something to reward myself for doing it. I had to keep telling myself that it was ok, I can do this and nothing bad will happen.

 I might have shared this before, but here's Hope in her little pocket

Recently, even though I still have a Daddy to a degree, I do not have a lover. Shadow still encourages, supports and guards me to a degree, but the lover part has been dead for about 2 months now. It’s taken time to find a balance again, but with the realization of him being gone, I’ve found that I have a few more attacks then I’m use too. I started carrying my small stuffed fox, Hope again. She fits nicely in my purse and is good for a quick cuddle when things a rough. The attack on Memorial day was so different then the small ones I’ve had recently, that I consciously made the effort to not let it win again.

As soon as I got into downtown, I went into my favorite store and got a new makeup bag. Another Harajuku Lovers number, but I can find my nail clippers and Band-Aids now AND it was on sale!!! I then stopped and picked up a few things at an Asian dollor store, which was part of the plan for the day. A new bento box that needs to be bedazzled and some cute accessories for it. This is a project I’ll go into in another post, but I’ve been wanting to do bentos for a while now. Then it was a quick lunch and a trip into the candy store for a treat for me and my sister for laters. I walked down to Pike Place and got myself lost for a while, got some huckleberry ice cream and caught the bus to the international district. It was wonderfuly calm and quite there. It was the perfect end to my shopping trip. I bought some tasty treats for my bento, some romune and a soda for the trek back home. I decided to take the train to Tukwila, another guilty pleasure of mine. 

When I got home, I texted Shadow with what I had done. I made a point to not use my phone during the day to fully give myself a day to focus on enjoying my little adventure. He was so proud I went out on my own that it was almost a reward within itself. Even without that though, I felt good I’d done it. I might have looked silly constantly checking my purse pocket to make sure Hope could see out, but I did it. For the most part, I was little when I did it too and no one looked at me any different. 

I know that other littles suffer from some form of anxiety. The key I’ve found over the years is to find something that works for you. The reward system works for me. Treat yourself to a peddie or an ice cream for making it to your interview, even if you bomb it. You still did it. Meeting a friend for lunch, split a desert and know your half will be sweeter for going out and spending time with someone outside of your partners. We all have strength to overcome these things on our own. Yes, it is nice to have the additional support, but it’s good to know you can do it on your own too.

In need of reasurance

About a month ago, Shadow started talking about dating again. He’d met someone. Though I’ve always known that we weren’t dating, this still caused a panic for me. I love my Daddy. He has given me so much. I know I came to this path on my own to let my inner little out, but he had given me so much during this journey. He’s protected me, encouraged me, hugged me when I needed it and cheered me on when things were going good. I know we don’t always work as a couple, but we do as Daddy/Daughter. I’m scared to death of losing my best friend. 

Part of me just wants to fade away into the background and let him move on. We’ve talked about this and I know he doesn’t want that. He still asks that I wear my ring. He’s worried about me, but I’ve been lost as to what to do now. I don’t know how to act at all. He’s work schedule has caused him to not be around like he once was. I just feel like he doesn’t need his little girl anymore. Although, I’ve been in the market for a boyfriend for a while, I’ve used Shadow as a cover to protect myself while I find myself. People scare me. A lot… I didn’t have to worry about that with him. I was protected. I was safe… I had Daddy.

A lot of people don’t know I’ve never been close to my real dad. We’ve struggled over the years. We don’t communicate much at all. In fact, the only time we are close on any level, is when my siblings aren’t around. I’m just not like them at all. Shadow had given me the daddy I had craved. He let me be a princess. When he started his new job, it was nights, and part of me was scared I’d be forgotten. My dad has worked nights all but 2 years of my life. It’s something that affected me far more than I ever thought it would. I gave Shadow time. I knew he’d need to adjust. I tried to so hard to be a big girl and not put stress on him. But then, he told me he’d met someone. He has tried hard to reassure me I wouldn’t be forgotten. This is a conversation we’ve had many times over the past 2 years.

I didn’t think it would be this hard to be in a DD/LG relationship when it’s was based on a friendship. Maybe it’s just me because I don’t understand how someone who helped save me from myself, who has known me inside and out, would suddenly change. Again… I know it’s me, I think anyway.

What makes you feel like a Little Girl?

A question I’ve notice come up time and again with littles is what things area a comfort when you’re in a little state. Many times they are similar, while others they are completely different. I’ve been home alone for almost a week now and Thursday when I got home from work, the first things I did where to get into my favorite pair of pink Tinker Bell jammies, grab my bear, blanky and sippy cup and was curled up on the couch until late that evening. I got up Friday and gathered my favorite things, this time with my sippy cup of juice and curled up on the couch to watch cartoons. It’s Sunday night and I’ve realized that this much needed ‘little time’ has helped me so much recoup from a lot of stress I’ve had recently.

                                                 Korick and my Tinker Bell fleecey blanky

                                                 My single serving tea set and favorite tea

Now, I try to have little things on my person during the work week. These are things that for one is expected for a woman to carry and two, they tend to be good conversation starters!

                                             HaraJuku Lovers purse with plush fox, Hope.

In this lovely purse I carry a pair of pink Skullcandy headphones that match the purse. They also match my Rapunzel 3DS case. This might be overkill, but they make me happy. I get a lot of complements and the little foxy that sits in the pocket usually sinks down into hiding when I'm running around downtown.

Lazy Sunday

It’s Sunday morning and no one is home. I’m in my Tinker Bell jammies, snuggled in a blankie, watching something on archeology with my teddy bear Korick. My sippy cup is full of water down cranberry juice and have a plate of Ritz with pb&j. This is the type of therapy I’ve needed for a while. Quiet time, in the open and in a dimly lit room.

Korick

My room is set up as a safety zone, with my dolls and stuffies and books on display. But every now and then I want to snuggle on the couch and not have to worry about being questioned or made fun of about my sippy cup or my teddy. This has been something that has bothered me recently. With my current living situation, I can’t be Little as soon as I get home from work. Ideally, I would take a bubbley bath and play with my toys, get cozy in jammies and curl up with dinner and my laptop. I’ve thought a lot about moving recently and have actually had an offer to move in with friends. The more I thought about it, the more I realized it might not be the best situation. Again, I would be hiding this part of me, probably more than I do now. Ideally, I would love to be able to move in with my adopted Daddy. Even with things being on a friend bases currently, I know I would be protected and he wouldn’t mind me being snuggled up with a sippy cup.

The thought of being truly alone and out on my own has been on my mind a lot lately. Can I do it? Will cutting the ties with some of the people that have hurt me cause other problems? Will I become a recluse and only interact with people at work? Currently, I’m finding the later to be happening, but I’ve had so much going on around me recently that I’ve had no time to unwind and to be me. I’ve realized more and more just how important that is. Being depressed is not fun. It’s a place I never thought I’d be back in and I honestly don’t want to be here anymore.

How did we get here?

I remember the day the beginning of the end started. I was in the truck with Shadow on Lake Hills Connector, a funky doo road between our home and downtown. I don’t remember what the conversation was about exactly, but one thing he said stuck with me from that day onward.

“you’re a little girl who just wants her daddy to love her.”

There as a bit of kink tied to that remark, but we both knew there was truth to it as well. It hit that hidden part and I was scared. Someone knew. Someone knew the one thing I had tried so very hard to hide as deep as I could. I had locked her up in a cabinet within a closet in a bolted room. Each door leading to it had a tighter lock, and yet that day, with that comment, he unlocked the one of the first.

Though Shadow and I ended the relationship, after a brief period the friendship started again. During that time, I had lost everything and everyone I held dear. I was having issues with my own family, because I had further broken down in to a state they didn’t understand. I wanted to play with my dolls. I talked with fairies and chased butterflies. I was becoming a Little. Something they had fought to keep me from doing, but now, as an adult in her late 20’s, I fought back. This was me and for the first time ever, I felt good about me.

When Shadow and I started talking again, he noticed the change. He became more protective of me when I was in that little mindset. He was more careful and worked hard to gain my trust as a little. Late November was when he had asked if I’d call him Daddy. Even though the term wasn’t new to me since I’d had another during our brief period apart, it felt right when I used the term for him. He gave me a new name, one that I cherish and continued to work with me. He encouraged me with the things that mattered, he’d listen to my rambling at silly o’clock, scolded me when I had chocolate and pop for breakfast and held me when I was sad. Shadow knew he had someone that counted on him and looked up to him. We helped each other grow. I knew that when everyone else would turn their back on me, he’d be there with that smile. He’d stopped me from closing the door to the world and loosing something very dear to me.

It was February of this year that a huge turning point came. The cabinet was opened and that true little self, the little Lolita hiding there was let out. I felt so free in that moment. We had been lying in bed and he told me that he’d never let me go through anything icky alone again. At that moment I hadn’t realized what had happened, but when I did I cried. That purist part, that little Lolita doll in the cabinet will always be his. Just as he will always be my Daddy.