Phases

I went through a rough patch for awhile.  Questioned damn near every ability I have in this bdsm world.  Another blogger at another site mentioned recently that d/s doesn't define who she is.  

It doesn't necessarily define me, but it is a huge part of my life now.  Something I know I won't ever live without again.  Submission, by itself makes me feel complete, and without a partner who recognizes that submission for what it truly is, recognizes the dynamic of dominance and submission, I'll just fall prey to more controlling arsewipes.  Been there, done that, have the tee.

Thankfully Master pressed through all those insecurities I had, had me sit down and take a good hard look at the reasons why I was feeling pressed up against the wall.  Through that exercise I realized that I was still haunted by the ghost of Dom past. 

Now, I should also point out that even though my head was not in the best space, I was told that said behavior would not be tolerated in the future.  To which I completely concur.  When I realized my behavior, I was crushed by my own actions.  Completely remorseful, and on some level, afraid of the punishment I could have had.  I wasn't let off easy, I'd punished myself.  It has since passed, but the emotions I felt are with me still.  A good lesson for me in humility and grace.

Two weeks ago marked one year he placed his collar around my neck for the first time. So much has happened in this past year.  Good, bad and ugly.  We are stronger for it. It's damn hard to maintain this two home deal, but we're doing it.  Some day we'll look back at all this angst and laugh. My home is by his side, whether it's at place A or place B.  

I still live by my mantra- each day is one day closer to where I want to be.

One day closer.

I was angry today.  Jealous actually.  I was jealous of his past.  I wanted affirmation that what we have is nothing like anything else he's ever seen. I wanted validation that no other submissive satisfied him the way I do, pleased him the way I do, served him the way I do.  I wanted to know whether he felt the same rush scening with someone else as he does with me.

Then it hit me.  They are ex's for a reason.  He wasn't able to flourish, grow, develop, and explore until now.  Every day is a new exploration of ideas, wants, needs.  We create them in each other, fulfill them through each other, and as a result we both grow from it.  I can't say that I'm always jumping up for joy with some of his plans and ideas, but I wouldn't have it any other way.  Like he told me yesterday, he likes seeing me squirm in both a good way and not good way.

It's like we're on this never ending spiral staircase.  Some days he holds my hand and we climb into the clouds (the sensualist), and on other days he escorts me into the bowels of hell (the sadist).  How far we go in either direction is up to him, but I gratefully hold his hand and follow his lead.  He seems to know better than I do, which direction I need to be taken to.  Even if I express a desire for up or down. 

He reads me well.  That's not something that happens overnight. It's time, patience, understanding, love, caring, devotion, consideration, empathy, desire.   I could probably go on and on, but it's time for me to get some shuteye.  Early day tomorrow and a trip home in the afternoon.

Losing or Gaining Self

Things are diving deeper.  He's been much more stringent, and his requirements are changing, his commands are broadening.

I felt like I was backed into a corner yesterday.

To my credit, I didn't lash out, I didn't get sarcastic or hostile.  I was open and honest about his "request".

So he altered it.

I don't know that this is any better.

I'm struggling, really struggling.

I have no idea how I'm going to maintain this.

I feel like he's setting me up for punishment.

The pressure is weighing me down, feels like a foot on my chest. It's not anxiety, I know what that is.  It's dread.

I don't want to comply.  I want to put my foot down and cry limit!  But in reality there is no reason for it, other than the fact that it's so very far outside my comfort zone and an inconvenience to my day- each and every day.

None of that is supposed to matter.... right? It's about his needs, his wants. This is what I signed up for- - willingly... right?

I have the man who is stronger than I, strength, character, resolve, honesty- he's all of that.  He warned me time and time again that it would not be easy being his slave.  Any request, command, instruction pales in comparison to this. So far anyway.  I hope one day I'll be able to look back on this and laugh at my foolishness.

It is taking me a long time to come to grips with this task. I'm still not fully enveloped in it.  Today I complied, because that's how I'm wired.  I have to give until I can't.  I didn't think I could envision the day where I actually contemplated a can't.  Yesterday, I did. Today was a new day though.

And other than my own pride, my own sense of propriety... I have no reason not to comply with this.

I felt no sense of relief when I accomplished this task today, I felt only dread for tomorrow is another day.  I hold on to the notion that I will find some sense of adventure to this task. But all I see is the negative impact to me- and while I know that negativity is coming from the independent side of me- it's clouding my judgement.

This IS what I signed up for when I asked him to eliminate my safe word, bring things to the next level.  I want and need this deeper dynamic. I'm still clinging to some idealized notion of M/s.  Where everything is nice and cozy and I'm pushed slowly, nudged into the mold that he's creating.

I realize I'm fighting one sense of self against the other.

I never realized until today how much strength it takes to surrender one's will.  I knew it took strength, don't get me wrong.  For as easy as it is for me to submit to him, it's always been a choice.  The choice looked easy because I was still in a comfort zone.

Today, tomorrow and every tomorrow I am for a short physical amount of time pushed out of that comfort zone.  However, mentally I am no longer there in that comfy space.  The command and my choice to comply is always on my shoulder from this day forward.

It is my choice to comply or deal with the consequences.  One of which could be being released.  That is not an option for me to play a hand in.  I know on some level there could come a day when I could be, but it will not be because I'm choosing to put my foot down over something that in the greater scheme of things is minutia. I cannot and will not become a behavioral issue, manipulate the situation by whining about all the reasons why I feel overwhelmed by this task.

I would have done that previously.  I can see Jay nodding emphatically right now.  Wipe the frown off your face Jay- he's not being unreasonable- I'm looking for excuses.  You know me, you know what buttons need to be pushed.  He's pushing the buttons- just the way he should.

He's got me by the hair forcing my eyes to his- and giving me the opportunity to walk the walk. He told me as much yesterday.  He's got the confidence in me, whereas I don't.

Knowing that doesn't make this any easier though.

It doesn't push me to want to do this, which frightens me a bit.  I'm doing this not for me, but for him.   I haven't wrapped my head around the notion that it's bringing me to a deeper self, losing that surface self, pride and ego.

If I'm going through the motions with this, how long before everything else becomes rote?  How long before I let this permeate into every aspect of our relationship?  I'm strong enough to know that if I let it, it won't take long.  He won't tolerate that, he sees right through me.  It will cause derision though.

Only if I let it permeate.

I'm hanging on, today the thread seems stronger than yesterday.  Soon, I hope that thread will become as thick as a rope.  He'll be at the top anchoring that rope, reaping the benefits of my climb.

I know this, I know it's for the greater good.

I just have to feel it.

I'm not there yet.

Tomorrow is another day.

Time flies and a whole lotta learning going on

A week ago, I fucked up.  Big time. HUGE. MEGA HUGE.  Ok, maybe not that huge, I mean I didn't break any laws, commandments, or do anything nefarious.  I did however go into full blown bitch mode with The Boss.

It wasn't until after the words had been spoken that I realized what I'd done.  In my own defense, I interpreted something the wrong way, but in my already over emotional, over worked state I took that misinterpretation and swung into defensive postulating rather than just ask what he meant.

So being me, and true to form, I beat myself up. In our time together, this is the first argument we've had, and it really wasn't so much of an argument as we both got pissed off at the other. Light a fuse watch it blow and then deal with the aftermath.  Anyway, once I realized what I'd done, I envisioned the punishment for said actions would not be something I would breeze right through.

After 24 hours, we spoke and he changed his mind on my visit.  I would come up so we could discuss what happened the previous day and move past it.

I brought the little man up with me as planned.  I need to ensure he has some testosterone time, poor kid surrounded by estrogen all the time.  After the boy went to bed, I knew we were going to 'have the discussion' whether that meant physical punishment too, I didn't know, but knew I deserved whatever was on the plate.

We ended up discussing, and as much as I tried to clam up and withdraw- he wouldn't let me. I was open and honest about what I was feeling, how I felt about my fuck up, but it was hard getting the words out in between fighting back the sobs, and covertly wiping away the tears.

I couldn't hide though, he wouldn't let me.  He made me look at him when all I wanted to do was turn my back and wallow in my own angst. I had not only disappointed him, but pissed him off- and all because I flew off the handle and reacted like a manipulating shrew.  Something I've never done, cared to do, wanted to do, intended to do with him.  Previous so called D's - fuck yeah, I manipulated my way right to the top of that pile of whatever it was called.  With him... no, never, niet, yeah, so much for that idea.

He reached inside of me and cradled my emotions (and me) in his arms while I had my meltdown. I didn't opt for tears, I hate tears for the most part. No, scratch that, I hate them period.  Even though I know that sometimes it's good to cry, it just takes an awful lot to get me there.

So I learned more about him during that little experience. Not that I will try to repeat it, second offense will not be pretty- I've been forewarned.  I didn't think it was possible to love or trust him any more than I already do, but it is.  I don't think that it's necessarily more- just deeper and even more meaningful.

A year ago yesterday he showed me a photo of the collar that I inspired.  He set out that day intending to make something else, but felt compelled to make my leather collar. I looked for that exchange the very same day we had the argument, taking the scroll down memory lane always makes me emotional, so I'm sure that didn't help matters any, but that's not where I was going with that.

It will be a year Sunday that he first placed it on my neck.  Now we hadn't talked about "being collared" specifically at that time.  We'd had conversations about a collar, what it meant personally to each of us, the implication of the significance.  We were both on the same page, or within a page or two of each other's views.

When the first D collared me, I took the collar on and off as applicable, not figuratively, just literally.  As we were 2k miles apart, and seeing each other every 6 weeks, and he liked to see me on cam chatting wearing said collar, it would be appropriate for me to put on/take off.  But even when we were together, I would put on/take off as needed.

So when I had Jefe's collar on that first weekend, and someone knocked on the door, my hands immediately flew up to the collar and I removed it.

After the company left, he secured the collar back around my neck, pulled the d-ring so our noses were scant centimeters apart, and informed me that I was never to take on/off again.

I haven't.  That's his job... I present said collar to him or said neck if I need to take a shower. I like that comfort in knowing he secures it, I'm not sure why, it's symbolism, but I haven't quite figured out why it tickles my fancy or why I take such comfort in it.  I wasn't wearing my collar the night of the discussion, and we were in bed having said discussion and by the time he was done with me I was too spent to get up and get it, but I felt naked sleeping without it.  The next night he called it out.  He wanted it there. Plain and simple.

Sometimes when I'm driving myself to the brink of insanity, wondering how we're ever going to get through this distance and time line thing, I sit and remember these little things.

His words from a few weeks back ring in my ears "I don't think either one of us expected things to go this deep"

Which considering how closed mouth he is about anything dealing with emotions, was a lot for him to admit.
He shows his emotions, he just doesn't talk about them. He's a touchy-feely kind of guy, just don't ask him to talk about it LOL.

It's the little things that keep you going sometimes.

Even something like fucking up has it's benefits.