new @25.1016-1056.37 Atx
Dear Marla,
This morning, while I was washing the dishes, I realized something.
I've had my fetish all my life.
I still remember the rubber dream I had when I was probably 4-5 years old. I was crawling around in a huge, greasy gearworks and had rubber pants on which 'protected' my privates. (That's all I remember ~66 years later.) The fetish was there, even at that early age.
Yes, most of the time I try to repress or ignore it because my culture demands that I be 'normal'. I'm supposed to be one of the them. Not different. Not Other.
Not me.
My fetish has always been there as an integral part of who I am.
"It" has always been there.
"It"?
I have always felt it had a feminine aspect.
Not long ago the idea of personifying my fetish with a real, human name began to sneak into my mind.
Today I name thee Fetish as 'Hevea', from hevea brazilliensis, which is to botanical name for the commercial rubber tree from which all latex garments come from. It seems fitting, don't you think?
It's all just a metaphor, of course.