I BECAME a worrier because I grew up poor.
We were often in debts despite my teachers being teachers.
(Or was it precisely because they were public school teachers that we were poor?)
I am the eldest of five siblings.
And although I didn’t fulfill that traditional role of being the breadwinner after college, I still feel responsible for my brothers and sisters.
I worried a lot until they could support themselves, and have families of their own.
I became a big worrier from when I was about 15, until I was about 40.
But my biggest liberation from worrying and anxiety came at 45, when my husband died.
Suddenly, I realized that life is too short to be spent worrying.
That’s when I became an advocate for living without much care.
But most of all, for living happily.
That’s what I would tell my 15-year-old self if I could sit down with him.
Don’t worry. Live happy.
Everyone must live their own lives.
Your siblings, your parents, your friends, your love ones, they want to make their own stubborn mistakes.
They want their own success on their own terms.
Your worrying wouldn’t help them.
Or yourself.
In the end, we each have our own standard for happiness, and success.
And in the end, we are only saved by our own strengths, and a little bit of luck.
*
I am a violin guy.
I love the sound of the violin.
I enjoy various, and many, musical instruments.
I had periods of infatuation with the harp, the ukulele, the piano, the Spanish guitar.
But I always go back to the violin.
Unfortunately, I don’t play any musical instrument.
But if I could master any instrument on earth, it definitely would be the violin.
I want to be a virtuoso in playing the violin.
I think that I could make people fall in love with me if I play the violin well enough.
I mean, I love violinists.
But also, I really want to attract people who love violin music.
*
I am rather easy as a person.
I am pretty adaptable.
If I try hard enough, I usually learn to like almost everything.
Food, music, city, climate, job — you name it.
But the hardest for me to like is being a total submissive.
After my husband died, I explored SMBD — Sado-Masochism, Bondage, and Discipline (not just Suck My Big Dick), with some of my younger, and more creative, sexual partners.
In my experience, the white boys aren’t so sadistic.
But I have some real terrifying experiences with strapping Mid-Eastern guys, who I really like.
But maybe it’s just because they are young, and don’t fully understand the rules of SMDB engagement.
I’m okay with spanking, pinching, even paddling.
But if I don’t have any sense of control, even when it’s just an iota of influence, or guidance, that is scary for me.
When you are tied to a bed with a partner that you haven’t known for long, and it takes a while for the uttered safe word to take effect, it can scare the shit out of you.
What if your partners turn out to be psychos?
I’m a trusting person.
But I live by the rules.
Rules give me a sense of control.
And I like a sense of control, even if it’s just a modicum of power. (500tinaga@gmail.com/PN)
