Happy New Year kinky readers. And welcome back!
2017 was, for most people I know, nothing short of an utterly harrowing year. For myself, this was a year of the highest of highs and the lowest of lows.
On the low side was my health. As a disabled person, I have definitely been in more desperate situations and I’m profoundly grateful that that I did not have any surgeries this year. But the pain of the daily grind for me this year was the worst it’s ever been. I battled an infection for most of the year, with rounds and rounds of antibiotics. The fevers and pain seemed insurmountable at times. My mental health was the lowest it has been in years, if not ever. I took a medical leave from my day job which, though I’m tremendously grateful to have had, still took a toll on my life. Many times this year, I felt out of control in my own body.
But the highs—Oh the highs. I made some of the best memories of my life on my trip to Los Angeles when I spoke at a sexuality conference in September. I literally ticked off five things from my bucket list in one weekend, with people I truly love. It was an amazing experience.
I also published more this year than I have in my life up to this point. My work appeared in three anthologies, with another coming out early in 2018. A story I wrote was published in a progressive porn magazine. I independently published two fiction novels and one non-fiction sexuality book. The feedback that I received from these publications taught me invaluable things as I go forward with my writing that I am extremely thankful for.
Finally, I planted the seeds for two very important projects coming up. I outlined and began drafting on them, along with one completely experimental project that I’m writing just for fun. For fun! Imagine such a thing as writing for fun!
I have many goals for 2018, one being to get back to blogging. I want to get back to what started this sexy erotic adventure: reading and reviewing sexy books. Whether I will be able to stick to this goal depends on many factors that I cannot predict at this time.
As it is now, there’s a really important something up in the air that could completely change my life for the better. I have taken the leap, but I can’t tell what the outcome will be. The New Year has pushed me off the edge, but I am falling into a completely dark abyss. I do not know what is going to happen. But none of us really do.
As I’m falling, I want to say I am hopeful. But I am not hopeful. I am serene. I may be tired, but I now know what it is like to endure. The taste of survival is fresh. I have collected tools, honed skills, and built an emotional philosophy that will help me going forward. I now flex my muscles not to fight, but to hold myself up. That is what I am taking with me into this freefall. I hope all that I have invested will be fruitful in the upcoming days, weeks, and months. I desperately hope so. But more than hopeful, I am prepared. If anything, in the past year, I have been prepared. Though I might continue to be scraped and nicked and burned, this darkness will not swallow me whole. I know this. It’s the only thing I know, but it brings me peace. And whichever way the coin lands, I will muster all my strength to do good in my world, whatever that world looks like.
In one of the fictional works I am drafting on for this next year, my character looks out to the horizon and contemplates their life. The prairie sounds back to them, “Onward, pioneer. You are wary, I know. But you shall not settle here.”
That is my motto going forward.
You shall not settle here.
None of us shall.