I keep telling myself that I will review and condense these categories, but I won’t so I am going to stop lying to myself.

I haven’t written here for a moment because I’ve needed to sort some things and that meant hitting the personal journal. It has also meant reading someone else’s personal journal, Viola Johnson. If you are into BDSM then the work of Mama Vi is likely not new to you. I do not loss about the word legend, but it fits here. Mama Vi has impacted so many of us, especially us colored. I don’t have words to describe her and I have a lot of words.

Once the fake pimp in DC tossed an ‘insult’ in my direction saying I wasn’t Mama Vi. I mean he was right, but the bigger picture is Mama Vi wasn’t always Mama Vi, she had to evolve and develop into the woman who has now mentored generations of kinky Black people. When the story is told of Nicole years from now, I still won’t be Mama Vi, but my story – that story which is still being written – will impact someone and aside from keeping my mental sanity, that was the goal.

I don’t think I ever realized To Love, To Obey, To Serve was a series of journals. I guess I always pictured it as a how to slave manual, and in a sense it is but it is also more than that. For me? Well it’s given me nightmares. Sure like I need more on my mind, but I am also grateful for it because it needed to be tossed and tussed in my subconscious to work through my current moment. As always the universe delivers.

It took me back to my last days of the Summer House and the constant assault of MM on my psyche. I can still hear her voice in my ears. I can still feel the defiance in my bones. What To love has given me in this critical moment is permission to be myself, and within that answers to questions I didn’t even know I was asking were revealed.

If you’ve been keeping up, it’s obvious that I’ve had consternation about the current relationship. It’s a part of why these entries were so infrequent because I couldn’t come here and tell the truth until I knew what the truth was.

Have I solved all the problems? No. Do I have all the answers? No. What I have is a reminder that what I have chosen for my life, the person I’ve chosen it with, and how I am designed to be, without the noise of outside interfering.

I am slave.

It looks nothing like what is written on the pages of Mama Vi’s journal. Except it also does. The similarity is the raw, the unprocessed. The difference is what made sense to the woman who’s dedicated her life to preserving Leather History, and specifically Black Leather History, is not what I could do. I’m currently at her early days in California and while I hear NOPE in my head loud and clear, I also hear yes within my heart and soul and it reminds me that the choice I made is the correct one, the path is the right path, and to trust in the Universe.

A part of that process and what is helping is being back in front of the altar. I am in no way at my prior stamina but I am creating consistency again. It allows me to sit, to process, to not question, to be in the moment and all of that is needed at this point of my journey.

Speaking of the journey, I am settled on what comes next, even if that which comes next is terrifying and it is.

I asked a question, well more than one question, and the idea of a broken heart came up. I do fear a broken heart, but what I fear more at this point is not taking the risk.

My EEOC complaint is moving forward. The employer has agreed to mediation. There is not a date set yet, but it is the next step. The goal is still to hit hard in mediation, obtain a settlement, and bounce. I have no way of knowing if that is what will happen but I am planning for it.

I miss my little one. I allowed myself to forget the joy of caretaking because of my history. Andrea killed so much within me, so much, that I thought I would never ever be able to restore. My little one is not her though. She is so amazing, so precious, so pure in a sense. I can hear her giggle as I kiss her toes, and the warmth of her love as I hold her close and I am super thankful that the Summer House happened because without it I would never have allowed myself to enjoy this experience again.

I miss the Daddy person. Watching him smile and sing In the Jungle, and just BE makes me happy, and that is without all the rest that comes with us.

I imagined myself drawing a line in the sand. The jokes on me because there is no sand.

“Your job is also to do as you are instructed.”

It is. I do. Yes Daddy.