Don’t worry. It’s only stressful because I’m a panic-driven freak.

It’s right up my alley. I’m getting paid cash to do what I love. And I don’t even have to leave my house.

I can’t even begin to tell you how this makes me feel. Anxious, and scared, and grateful (God, so very grateful.), and humble, and happy, and excited, and worried, and terrified, and ecstatic, and…

My bosses/editors are awesome. My co-reporter (reporter!) is awesome. The other people who work for the company that publishes the magazine I’m writing for are awesome. They all (mostly) know (of) me, and I’m good friends with a few.

So, okay. It’s still kind of a start-up mag, and it’s only actually been published on paper three times. Or… twice, and it’s about to be published the third time? I think that’s what I heard? Anyway! It’s news. Sex-related news. And I’m getting paid for it. And…

Wow.

My first day was yesterday, and I had a bit of a rocky start. They (nicely) told me my stories sucked weren’t what they were looking for, and (gently) pointed out that the stories were a little outdated, and (politely) offered to rewrite them for me, so I had a better idea of what they were looking for.

I’m not gonna lie. I cried. I was crushed. And the confidence I felt when I took the job was shaken. I mean, I wouldn’t be me if it hadn’t been. And I was all, “It’s the end of the world. Fuck this. I give.” for a minute.

And then M said, “Hey. Ya dumb bitch. They didn’t say you suck. They obviously think you can handle it, or they wouldn’t have given you the job. So quit yer sniveling. Ask them when they need it by. And get back on the damn horse, already.” I’m paraphrasing, but it was pretty damn close.

Which, I mean, obviously, once I’d had my cry, and left my pity party, I’d be over it and get back on the damn horse already. I just needed a minute. But it was still super awesome to hear Him say it. I can’t put into words how nice it is to be owned by and married to someone who will just say, “Hey. Ya dumb bitch. What the fuck is your problem?” instead of letting me hole myself up in a wall until I’m strong enough to pull myself out of it. For a long time, I needed that, and couldn’t find it. And now that I have it, I’m starting to learn how to pull myself out of the tailspins on my own.

And really, this whole thing is thanks to M. I was a little frustrated at the questions He asked when I had the contract in my hand, and was about to sign it. I mistakenly thought He had no confidence in my ability, and I acted angry, but really, I was hurt, and, true to form, I was shielding myself from any further perceived attacks on the little bubble of, “Oh my god, I’m a paid frickin’ writer!” I’d built around myself.

But once He shoved, that was all there was to it. I was like, “You know what? He’s right. I can do this.” And I fuckin’ did it.

When it comes right down to it, if it weren’t for M, I would never have started blogging. Without blogging, I wouldn’t have met Carrie. Without Carrie, I wouldn’t have had, among other things, the avenue through which I began reviewing, guest writing, and now… reporting! I owe those two… God, I think I’ll be indebted, still, for at least ten years after I die, no matter what I do. 🙂

Say hello to SexIs Magazine’s newest Sex Feed reporter….. Me!

<3
rayne

P.S. Here are my first two stories: DADT Fate Uncertain After Senate Vote & “Patient Zeta” AIDS Testing Clinic Closed Down