Household God

The ancients often revered a household god, a specially chosen deity who protected the home. The residents worshiped that god in private within the household, rather than at a temple.

The picture below is of my household god, also known as my boyfriend, whom I worship in our home as often as I can. I love him absolutely and unconditionally like I have never loved anyone before. He, in turn, loves me in so many special ways like no man ever has. Our relationship grows closer and stronger every day because we're the perfect yin and yang, opposites that make a complete whole. I wish I could show his face but cannot because of his work.

I did not know him a year ago. In fact, this time last year I was in something of a funk. I was determined to make a personal transformation because I was becoming increasingly flabby and overweight as I grew older. I hoped to return, at least, to my former weight, but I had dreams of becoming more muscular and "ripped."

That was the personal reason behind starting this blog, exactly one year ago today. I had collected many pictures and videos of hot men but always felt some remorse I never attracted a boyfriend who looked that good. I thought if I could transform myself, I stood a better chance of attracting a stud. The pictures were my inspiration. Men who looked like me, well, they often felt like me. I wanted more.

A few months before beginning this blog, I had hired a very strict (and hot and straight) personal trainer who started me on the road to my goal. Although he was a good trainer and a genuine god, he was also an asshole with attitude to spare. In fact, this post was written specifically with him in mind, because he had treated me exactly in the manner I described. (He was not, of course, the bloke pictured in that entry.)

Cut to a few months later when I met my boyfriend, shortly after I started this blog. I thought he was mad at me for looking him over, because he is very hot, but it turns out he had been watching me, as he admitted later. In our first conversation, he complimented me on my transformation, which was only partly achieved at that point -- I had lost a good deal of weight, rather quickly, but still did not have anywhere near the definition I wanted.

He very sweetly started to volunteer training advice when I saw him. He had worked as a personal trainer in the past but more recently had moved on to other pursuits. One thing led to another and, without my directly asking, he agreed to help me for some extra income. I fired the fascist.

What began as a friendship soon blossomed into a full blown romance. As I grew stronger in body, so too did I in confidence. I learned it mattered far more on the inside who I was than on the outside, although having a nice exterior never hurts. I now feel as good as I did when I was in high school and college, but I look much better than I did back then. I will never be a big massive musclestud -- I'm far too ectomorphic and short for that. I am very happy with how I look, however, given my transformation is complete. My baby keeps me on the straight and narrow, so no more flabby gut and jiggly ass for me.

So begins Year Two of this blog. I have far, far more traffic than I ever thought possible, according to Google Analytics. Thanks to all you readers for stopping by, for subscribing, and for your many comments.