‘That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile.’

These were the words of my therapist on Friday. I had just come out to her about poly, about my rope making, about kink and kinbaku and about you, dear reader. I told her about this blog, about the podcast I constantly mean to get back to, about the store I am struggling to set up.

Apparently the lifestyle is what makes me happy, is what brings me joy.

Now I know that we should do the things which make us happy, ‘follow your joy’ as my mother once quoted me (no doubt out of a self help book I have yet to get around to reading), but is that possible when everything else sucks the joy out?

Is joy a privilege? Or is it like patience: you have to wait for it? Overthought of the day.

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