How Rediscovering My Pup Self Helped Save Me

🐾 How Rediscovering My Pup Self Helped Save Me

There’s a version of this story where I talk around the edges.
This isn’t that version.

2025 was poised to be one of the hardest years of my life. I ended a 20-year marriage, changed jobs after 12 years in a corporate role, and began traveling the world. From the outside, it probably looked like momentum. Like reinvention.

But what actually got me through those changes wasn’t pushing forward or trying to forget the past.
It was quite literally the opposite.

I’ve been Ruff for a long time. But like many parts of myself, my pup side had gone quiet—tucked away under responsibility, grief, burnout, and the slow, creeping weight of depression that doesn’t always announce itself loudly.

I was still functioning. Still in crisis-mode. Still appearing to be “fine.”
Inside, I wasn’t okay.

As I reflected on my journey as a kink practitioner, I kept coming back to something that once brought me real joy. One of the things that excited me most early in my marriage was that my ex was kinky, curious, and wanted to explore with me. That’s where Ruff was born—and it was one of the happiest, most alive times in my life.

That reflection led me to a hard but honest realization:
I needed something from my past to hold onto in order to survive the present.

Rediscovering Ruff

When I stepped fully back into pup space, something familiar clicked into place.

The noise in my head softened. The constant self-monitoring eased. My body remembered how to breathe without bracing. Being in pup headspace didn’t take me away from reality—it brought me back into myself.

Ruff wasn’t something new to become.
Ruff was someone I had forgotten how to be.

As a pup, I didn’t have to justify my existence. I didn’t have to perform competence or carry everything alone. I could play. I could rest. I could ask for affection without shame. I could take up space simply by being present.

That permission changed everything.

The Basics I Forgot—and Relearned

As I reconnected with Ruff, I also reconnected with some of the most basic principles of kink: consent, negotiation, aftercare, and trust. But this time, those skills weren’t about finding a partner.

They were about learning how to take care of myself.

I had to give myself permission to grieve. To be angry about what happened. To enjoy memories from the past without guilt. I had to define my hard and soft limits—what I needed in order to be okay—and set boundaries that honored them.

I had to check in with myself. Take self-care days when I felt overloaded. And most importantly, I had to trust that the decisions I was making were the right ones—that I was finally back on the path toward the person I was meant to be.

Reconnecting with Ruff helped me embody those principles again and step into a headspace rooted in curiosity, adventure, and care. It allowed me to show up #UnapologeticallyPuppy—not as an escape, but as a way to thrive.

Community, Connection, and Care

Ruff also reconnected me to community.

I attended pup events, furry conventions, and even traveled to the UK, where I discovered an entirely different kink culture—one I deeply thrived in. By the end of that rough year, I found myself with an Alpha I share a powerful emotional connection with, one that still feels unreal some days. And I’ve continued to explore, learn, and grow in pup spaces ever since.

Pup spaces—when done well—are built on care, humor, accountability, and presence. I found people who asked how I was really doing. People who celebrated progress, respected boundaries, and understood that vulnerability isn’t a flaw.

It’s a form of trust.

Where I Am Now

I’m not “fixed.”
I still have hard days. For those, there’s therapy—and yes, a lot of antidepressants.

But I’m grounded in ways I wasn’t before. I have language for my needs. I have practices that bring me back into my body. I have a pup name that reminds me of curiosity, resilience, and joy—even when things feel heavy.

I’m sharing this because I know others are quietly carrying the same weight.

If you’re struggling, I want you to know that healing doesn’t always look like moving forward into something new. Sometimes, it looks like coming home to something you already were.

For me, that meant rediscovering my pup self—and consciously choosing to let it help me heal.

This blog will be a space where I talk about classes, gear care, community, and education. But it will also be a place for honesty about the ways this path has shaped me.

If you’re here, you’re welcome.

🐾 Ruff