Good Ropes and Bad Ropes

Good Ropes and Bad Ropes

First, the bad ropes. My divorce was a mess. I lost my job, gained a few pounds, got depressed and in debt. The crappiest part of my life. That’s when I knew that owing the place you live in, the bed on which you sleep, the food you eat, is like having a corset around your torso. You can’t breathe. You can’t think. To put it clerly, you can’t go on with your life!

I eventually recovered. I worked hard. And when I thought I just couldn’t go on, I walked an extra mile. Piece by piece, I regained everything I had lost. I found a new job, I got in shape, I cleared all my debts. I did it! It was the best part of my life. It is what I’m most proud of.

I have a new husband now. He’s a good man, and my only regret is that we didn’t share my comeback. It’s hard to love someone and wanting to share your life with him, knowing that he missed the best part only because he wasn’t there yet.

I’ve always liked BDSM, and so does my husband. So, it was only a matter of time before I came with the idea of recreating my struggle and victory through bondage. I ask him to tie me, and, while he does, I remember the debts, the auctions, the hunger. When I’m totally tied up, I revisit the hole where I once was. It is a dark, ugly place. But I’ve been there before, and it didn’t break me.

Then, he unties me and, as he does, I remember every effort, every sacrifice, every bold decision I took to have a life again. By the time he finishes, I feel exhilarated. I remember I can do anything. I’m a winner!

This way, we share my story through Shibari, because he’s right there with me, sharing the good ropes and the bad ropes.

This is my Shibari story.