Why does God forgive and come to people who have done terrible things and yet, I, who lived my life by the teachings of Jesus have been tormented until it has all been taken from me? For it is God that I have experienced. Other than Alien overlords there is no other explanation. I did nothing wrong, I never even said that he didn’t exist. I was an agnostic who prayed every night. 

All I can think is that they had been watching me and I was about to start going down a path of decadence and greed, but my intentions were good. My intentions were to write a guide to kink essentially, a 50 shades of grey done properly, think closer to Secretary where the kink improves both their lives. I wanted to help people yes, but my main motivations were sex and hot tubs and cocaine. I was on a path to revenge, revenge against my company for screwing me over that it advanced the end of my marriage, which I suppose in hindsight I should be thankful for, and I wanted to get rich in the process. The book, the additionals, Operation Guardian Angel, all of these were periphery, they were “nice to haves” and “maybe obtainables”, by the key was to screw work the way they screwed me. I was going to build the database as a high profile, properly funded project and it was going to be perfect and take me six months. I was going to deliver it with a comprehensive user manual and they quit. Hand in my fucking notice, I’d already bought the card to write it on. It said “She finally bid a fond farewell to her employers with a picture of someone giving the finger. The I was going to hold them to random, heir me back as a contractor on three days a week for my current salary or be left with a tool you can not use. The other two days a week I was going to write and focus on my modelling, I was a very good model and in peak shape.

The project was my confidence builder, my look at me, I am good now that I am free project, my learn to face my fears, to get over the years of bullying at the hands of those closest to me.

Then….

Then the smallest thing can happen and it completely changes your perspective.

Then…

Then I was watching the news and noticed that the news reporter was rubbing their hands in front of them rather than standing there perfectly.   In that moment I saw them as a person, as someone pushing themselves to do well but with complex feelings, nerves, drives and a back story of who knows what.  In that moment I realised, the problem isn’t them…. It’s me.

I am not well

I am not confident

I am terrified of people

I put myself lower than everyone

I may have to leave my husband, I don’t think I can get better in this environment

I was new to being confident, It had been beaten out of me by the age of 12 years old, after a year of Tom Boy me being constrained in an all girls school. I was just stepping out for the first time, yes I over did it, who hasn’t over indulged at least once in their life, how many of us have sweated it out in a police cell or a hospital after a drunken night, not many? I actually have no idea on the statistic. I was just that my first time was 35!

The arrest only enhanced my spirits, phew what a ride, I’d always had latent bad girl fantasies, the stuff I would rub myself off against would be imaginations of violent sexual assault or rape with me as the victim of serious assault and murder of the bad guys who abused and used with me as the perpetrator, I have never been more turned on by a film that the scene in requiem for a dream – you either know it or you don’t.

My husband, everyone I knew had had these eventful youths and I never had. No I am not proud of it, although it was rather funny. I don’t remember all of it, just snippets, but I do remember being in the pub in handcuffs with my legs up on the handsome policeman’s lap giggling and saying “oooh these are fun”, oh why didn’t they call the mental health services on my that day. I had recently discovered that I could get so horny and wound up that I black out” This man, this guy I had met knew something and I wanted to know what, it might have been stupid or nothing, but what matter, he owned a greacy steal works and wanted to rape me and my god did I want to be “raped”. Who knows why, maybe to regain control of the gang rape that I don’t remember and took my virginity, maybe because I just like taking things to the extremes. You don’t have to take when I would have given freely.

I didn’t deserve a caution AND a section. One or other would have sufficed.