Since I was 19 or 20...about the time one really starts to question their identity...I have been struggling to find myself. Before that I never really thought about who I was...I probably didn't care or maybe I didn't want to know but probably, I thought I knew already. I was deep in the high school drama, in the throes of an emotionally abusive relationship that I refused to leave, and was smoking a lot of pot. Those became my definitions: misunderstood angst-y teenage hippie obsessed with her emotionally masochistic relationship.
When I broke up with the man I was with before I met D, these struggles really started coming to the forefront of my mind. I was forced to make choices on my own and as I saw fit. As I began facing bigger life decisions and had to build the foundation of my future, I always came back to the question, "Is this me? Is this who I want to be?" I know other people have had these internal struggles as well, and now that it's starting to come full circle for me, I feel that I can finally write about it...because I actually understand it!
D and I have had a rocky relationship to say the least. I was still in love with my ex when D and I met and was simply looking for a rebound. I was all over the place emotionally and had no idea what I wanted...because I had no idea who I was. We almost broke up a year and a half ago when we stopped communicating and we were both miserable with our lives. To make a long story short, we had a loooong journey of ups and downs, including things that both of us are ashamed to speak of. However, all of those downs led us to this point, so I guess the pain was worth it.
How would I define myself now? There are many ways, including personality traits, morals, career choices, and interests. But in each of these identities, I have questioned myself. For example, I really love rock music...alternative, indie, classic, pop, etc. I enjoy going to rock concerts and scream/singing, flashing my boobs for beads, and dancing like a typical rocker chick at these concerts. However, that persona leaves me the next day when I have to put on my cardigan sweater and glasses and teach 24 third graders about the plant cycle. How can I be both at once? I've deemed that impossible. Does that mean I'm really not a teacher AND a rocker chick? No, it doesn't. It just means I have to "persona-switch"(I made up that word) and be the appropriate me for the situation at hand. I am all of those things, they are part of my identity, but it's impossible to be all of those things at once.
This is one identity that never really leave me. First and foremost, I am D's. He is the center of my world - my rock, my everything (I KNOW this sounds barf-worthy, but I really can't find better words. D is the center of my universe, plain and simple). He is embedded in just about every single aspect of my life so I carry him with me wherever I go. I think of him constantly throughout the day (most often because he texts me non-stop when I am away, but also because I love him a lot) so I never feel as though I leave my identity as "his" behind.
Just being his gives me myriad identities: partner, fiancee, lover, friend, little girl, future wife and baby mama, bedroom slut, etc, but I'll just use sub as a blanket term for all of these identities (meatball sub? he really likes meatballs). In this meatball sub identity, I have found true happiness. I carry it with me at all times and I believe it's present in everything I do. Of course, I can't exactly wear my high-protocol collar to work, but I
owe much of my academic success to D's guidance and encouragement. In situations where I'm not sure how to handle myself, I just think, WWDD?: What would D/Daddy Do? He is a large part of who I am because he has helped me find myself. He knows me better than I even know myself. I constantly question and second-guess myself, so it was so difficult to figure out who I was because I couldn't tell when I was being true to myself. He molded me into a better version of who I was before. I'm self-aware, driven, strong, and successful in ways I never dreamed I would be. I left the old me behind...the young girl that was confused, reckless, and weak, to embrace being D's meatball sub.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Sometimes A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words
I'm a literary person, not a visual one, so it is very rare that an image speaks to me. This image however, immediately caught my eye as a representation of many of the goals that we hope to achieve through this lifestyle.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Interesting developments
This past weekend has been fascinating for me. This was the first time that laerie and I traveled to our hometown and saw our families since we truly began striving to make our dynamic as close to 24/7 TPE as we can reasonably get. In other words, it was time to take the training wheels off and see what this baby could do on the open road.
To be honest, I expected some glitches and some long conversations. Well... the long conversations have been there, but the glitches haven't. If anything, she's been pushing me to push her harder, to take more control, but that's beside the point.
I came here to write about two very specific developments that made me smile. Prior to entering this dynamic, laerie could be fairly temperamental - any decision caused her untold anxiety and bouts of moodiness would come and go with little comprehension. Since we've started this journey though, those issues have all but disappeared. I've never seen her so at peace with herself before and it's wonderful.
The first change that I observed was very general. Our first night home, laerie volunteered to stay at my parent's house and take care of some chores that were our joint responsibility so that I could do something that I love and don't often get to do. I was stunned that she was willing to take on my share of the work because she wanted me to have the chance to do what I so badly wanted to do, but never would have asked for. Our second night home was dinner with my family, a sinfully boring bunch to say the least. And for the first time in history, someone who was not a biological member of the family did not grumble or get bored with our company. In fact, she was a perfect angel and went FAR out of her way to not only be of service to me, but my family as well. At every moment of this visit, her behavior has exceeded my expectations and I could not be more pleased with the growth she's demonstrated.
The second change I observed was much more acute. In previous incarnations, laerie was a pro at conflict avoidance. If her order at a restaurant was wrong, she'd simply not eat it rather than complain or order something new... much to my consternation at times. Then tonight rolls around and the two of us are responsible for getting the pizza for a wedding planning discussion with both sets of parents. I wait in the car while uber-helpful laerie hops out to go pick up the food. As she gets back in the car, she opens the box to check it, displaying situational awareness beyond even my own! And of course, the pizza is wrong. I start to get out of the car, expecting that I'll have to go do the dom thing and make them fix it while she stood behind me. However, before I even got my door fully open, she was out of the car and stomping her way back into the restaurant with a look on her face that I'd never seen before. Not only did she end up getting the order corrected, but she ended up getting a free pizza in the process. I could not have been more proud at that moment of the strength she displayed. Apparently when it comes to her own food, she's willing to suffer in silence, but if you fuck up something meant for her man, you better watch the fuck out. The best part of the night though was the blush on her face proving me right as I informed her of my observations.
Though we've only been actively pursuing this dynamic for the last month, it's utterly amazing to see the pieces begin to fall into place and how much she has grown in such a short time. It makes me so happy to see her so comfortable with herself for the first time in the five years I've known her.
To be honest, I expected some glitches and some long conversations. Well... the long conversations have been there, but the glitches haven't. If anything, she's been pushing me to push her harder, to take more control, but that's beside the point.
I came here to write about two very specific developments that made me smile. Prior to entering this dynamic, laerie could be fairly temperamental - any decision caused her untold anxiety and bouts of moodiness would come and go with little comprehension. Since we've started this journey though, those issues have all but disappeared. I've never seen her so at peace with herself before and it's wonderful.
The first change that I observed was very general. Our first night home, laerie volunteered to stay at my parent's house and take care of some chores that were our joint responsibility so that I could do something that I love and don't often get to do. I was stunned that she was willing to take on my share of the work because she wanted me to have the chance to do what I so badly wanted to do, but never would have asked for. Our second night home was dinner with my family, a sinfully boring bunch to say the least. And for the first time in history, someone who was not a biological member of the family did not grumble or get bored with our company. In fact, she was a perfect angel and went FAR out of her way to not only be of service to me, but my family as well. At every moment of this visit, her behavior has exceeded my expectations and I could not be more pleased with the growth she's demonstrated.
The second change I observed was much more acute. In previous incarnations, laerie was a pro at conflict avoidance. If her order at a restaurant was wrong, she'd simply not eat it rather than complain or order something new... much to my consternation at times. Then tonight rolls around and the two of us are responsible for getting the pizza for a wedding planning discussion with both sets of parents. I wait in the car while uber-helpful laerie hops out to go pick up the food. As she gets back in the car, she opens the box to check it, displaying situational awareness beyond even my own! And of course, the pizza is wrong. I start to get out of the car, expecting that I'll have to go do the dom thing and make them fix it while she stood behind me. However, before I even got my door fully open, she was out of the car and stomping her way back into the restaurant with a look on her face that I'd never seen before. Not only did she end up getting the order corrected, but she ended up getting a free pizza in the process. I could not have been more proud at that moment of the strength she displayed. Apparently when it comes to her own food, she's willing to suffer in silence, but if you fuck up something meant for her man, you better watch the fuck out. The best part of the night though was the blush on her face proving me right as I informed her of my observations.
Though we've only been actively pursuing this dynamic for the last month, it's utterly amazing to see the pieces begin to fall into place and how much she has grown in such a short time. It makes me so happy to see her so comfortable with herself for the first time in the five years I've known her.
Thoughts on Punishment
I originally posted this on Reddit as a response to another dominant struggling with the idea of punishment. I thought it was insightful enough to save, so here it is:
The best answer for me came from CollarMe (of all places, really...). An older Dom in a D/s dynamic that laerie and I admired stated that he didn't do punishment. WHAT? mind blown I scoffed and wondered how on earth that could work. Now, a year later I find myself making the same claim.
Now, here's the standard caveat, this is what works for us. It is very specific to the type of 24/7 lifestyle we're developing. Also, I'm not referring to "funishment" or role play scenes, that's something entirely different. But we tend to play by the rule, "if you want something, ask for it" rather than encouraging deliberate misbehavior.
Now how can I advocate no punishment - two reasons. First, laerie has consensually agreed to live by my rules and expectations 24/7. She wants this dynamic as badly as I do, so why would she spoil it by misbehaving?
Secondly, it is my job to make sure that the rules and expectations I set for her are realistic and reasonable. When we first started out, I tended to be too heavy handed and that made her feel like a failure because we both got so focused on what wasn't being accomplished instead of what was. Now, we celebrate what we achieve and analyze our failures to understand how to avoid them next time. If she doesn't live up to the rules and expectations, then I did not do my job of setting them properly, barring any gross misconduct on her part (which has never happened... yet).
Even if she did deliberately decide to disobey, I wouldn't rely on punishment. Rather, such an act would call for a reevaluation of our entire dynamic. I would sit her down and want to know exactly why she chose to act that way, what caused it and so on. Though she might tell you that having to endure that would be punishment in its own right.
The best answer for me came from CollarMe (of all places, really...). An older Dom in a D/s dynamic that laerie and I admired stated that he didn't do punishment. WHAT? mind blown I scoffed and wondered how on earth that could work. Now, a year later I find myself making the same claim.
Now, here's the standard caveat, this is what works for us. It is very specific to the type of 24/7 lifestyle we're developing. Also, I'm not referring to "funishment" or role play scenes, that's something entirely different. But we tend to play by the rule, "if you want something, ask for it" rather than encouraging deliberate misbehavior.
Now how can I advocate no punishment - two reasons. First, laerie has consensually agreed to live by my rules and expectations 24/7. She wants this dynamic as badly as I do, so why would she spoil it by misbehaving?
Secondly, it is my job to make sure that the rules and expectations I set for her are realistic and reasonable. When we first started out, I tended to be too heavy handed and that made her feel like a failure because we both got so focused on what wasn't being accomplished instead of what was. Now, we celebrate what we achieve and analyze our failures to understand how to avoid them next time. If she doesn't live up to the rules and expectations, then I did not do my job of setting them properly, barring any gross misconduct on her part (which has never happened... yet).
Even if she did deliberately decide to disobey, I wouldn't rely on punishment. Rather, such an act would call for a reevaluation of our entire dynamic. I would sit her down and want to know exactly why she chose to act that way, what caused it and so on. Though she might tell you that having to endure that would be punishment in its own right.
What's in a name?
As graduate students, both laerie and I are quite familiar with the power of language. Despite largely semantical differences, certain words are often laced with deeper meaning than others. This is especially true in the BDSM community where vagaries abound. It seems that everyday brings another post asking for clearance on the sub vs. slave debate or the role of the Master as compared with the Dom, or my personal favorite: the service top.
Since I've already written about the inherent biases regarding the phrase "service top" (and will likely again... be forewarned), I'll move on to other ground for the time being. In particular, the word "slave" has become very fascinating to me recently. I've yet to see any other topic in the BDSM world be so contentiously debated as the concept of consensual slavery.
As you (hopefully!) know by now, laerie and I went through significant struggles trying to categorize our relationship. We wanted to know which little box we fit in on the BDSM spectrum. After all, it makes it very hard to discuss your relationship with others without relying on a shared vocabulary. As it stands today, we're still not entirely sure how to characterize ourselves, or even if we need to... but I digress.
To me, slavery is a word laced with many meanings. As a white male, it carries the burden of guilt for the unspeakable actions of history. As a dominant in the BDSM community though, it brings up thoughts of sacrifice, loyalty, and unshakeable trust. Shamefully perhaps, the BDSM definition has become the first response in my mind when I hear the word, and I won't deny that it usually arrives with a little tingle in the special part of my brain where all the sadistic thoughts hang out. However, for laerie, it is impossible to move past the historical definition of the word, even for the sake of discussion.
The impact of such latent potency in rhetoric is fascinating, at least to me. I don't have any grand revelations on the topic at the moment since it is still bouncing around my head. It simply has served to help make me aware of how easily meaning can get lost in translation, even with a couple like us who prizes our communication and honest discourse. Perhaps laerie's initial query to me way back when of why we even needed to define ourselves was right. There is something to be said for eschewing the traditional boxes and blazing the trail to meaning hand-in-hand. Afterall, actions speak far louder than words.
Since I've already written about the inherent biases regarding the phrase "service top" (and will likely again... be forewarned), I'll move on to other ground for the time being. In particular, the word "slave" has become very fascinating to me recently. I've yet to see any other topic in the BDSM world be so contentiously debated as the concept of consensual slavery.
As you (hopefully!) know by now, laerie and I went through significant struggles trying to categorize our relationship. We wanted to know which little box we fit in on the BDSM spectrum. After all, it makes it very hard to discuss your relationship with others without relying on a shared vocabulary. As it stands today, we're still not entirely sure how to characterize ourselves, or even if we need to... but I digress.
To me, slavery is a word laced with many meanings. As a white male, it carries the burden of guilt for the unspeakable actions of history. As a dominant in the BDSM community though, it brings up thoughts of sacrifice, loyalty, and unshakeable trust. Shamefully perhaps, the BDSM definition has become the first response in my mind when I hear the word, and I won't deny that it usually arrives with a little tingle in the special part of my brain where all the sadistic thoughts hang out. However, for laerie, it is impossible to move past the historical definition of the word, even for the sake of discussion.
The impact of such latent potency in rhetoric is fascinating, at least to me. I don't have any grand revelations on the topic at the moment since it is still bouncing around my head. It simply has served to help make me aware of how easily meaning can get lost in translation, even with a couple like us who prizes our communication and honest discourse. Perhaps laerie's initial query to me way back when of why we even needed to define ourselves was right. There is something to be said for eschewing the traditional boxes and blazing the trail to meaning hand-in-hand. Afterall, actions speak far louder than words.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
A Question of Rhetoric: Need vs. Want
This is another topic that's sat in the back of my mind for over a year now. When I first discussed this lifestyle with laerie, I distinctly remember saying that I thought it was a lifestyle that she needed, but would have to learn to want it. Ostensibly, the last eighteen months have been done doing exactly that, bridging the gap between what she needed and wanted until they're essentially the same thing.
This struck me as important because I've never heard anyone else discuss submission as a need. Rather, any discussion of BDSM kink is couched in the rhetoric of consent and desire. However, where do those individuals who have a visceral need, with or without said desire, fit? I consider myself to fall into this category as well as laerie. While I don't need to dominate, I need to lead - it gives me purpose in much the same way that submission does laerie.
Back to my original point though, laerie did not come to this lifestyle through any kind of desire. Hell, some days she'll still tell me that it's the last thing she wants. Despite that, it is unequivocally what she needs. Though we've only been in this dynamic for about a year and a half, looking back over our history I see myself having done many of the same things I do now, just behind the scenes. I've always played a guiding role in laerie's life, it is simply out in the open and given more power now.
Some days, I wonder what would've become of either of us if we had not met. I've struggled to find myself for the better part of the last decade, ever since I was no longer able to compete in the sport I loved due to health issues. Couple that with the identity struggles of a burgeoning dominant, and I had a number of tough years. Only recently, as we've begun to explore this dynamic more fully, have I regained the confidence that once characterized me, in all facets of my life. Being responsible for her and leading her has given me a purpose and a passion that I've long been lacking and I thank the stars everyday for us finding this peace together.
As for laerie, I think that I was meant to find her as well. Before I met her, I dated a number of submissive women, but no relationship lasted more than a date or two. These women weren't truly submissive, they were simply playing a role to please me, which struck me as very unpredictable and subsequently made me very uncomfortable. Then along comes laerie, whose demeanor and body language screamed submissive, though she was far too innocent and naive to have ever encountered the idea. There was no doubt though that her relationship with her ex-boyfriend had been a TPE, though it was never identified as such. Her story broke my heart, here was this amazing, sweet woman who wanted nothing more than someone to love her like she loved them. I knew from that day on that I would do everything in my power to make her mine. She was the first person I'd ever met whose need to submit mirrored my need to lead in such a visceral manner.
I shudder to think of what her future could've been had we not met though. As I stated earlier, her relationship with her ex was undoubtedly a form of TPE and she was miserable on the surface, but unwilling and unable to break free on a deeper level. That is all that she knew as love and she craved that feeling of "being under a man's thumb." It is not hard for me to imagine her dealing with abuse and/or neglect at the hands of another man. Unfortunately, we got a brief glimpse into what her future could've been just over a year ago, before we were able to openly and honestly discuss BDSM as an option for us. Despite my willingness to bend over backward to make sure that had everything she needed, she did not view me as a dominant figure in her life. How could she, the only dominance she knew was the cold, disinterest her ex had provided her, making her beg for his love and affection. Along came another man that she'd known for years. He began openly discussing his BDSM inclinations with her and, though she was horrified by the ideas of humiliation and degradation and elements of sadism he expressed a desire for, she couldn't help but be intrigued. Here was another man promising the same type of dominance that her ex had and she couldn't help but be attracted to it because it represented such a visceral need in her life. Thankfully, after MUCH discussion and time, and the opportunity to openly discuss my own prurient interests in the BDSM world, we were able to find ways to address that need within our own relationship.
To date, we're the only relationship that I've seen framed in this way, as a need primarily and a want secondarily. I don't know if it's an issue of semantics or that perhaps disguising the discourse of kink in the language of desire and consent makes it more approachable. However, I cannot imagine that we are the only people that have felt this visceral need on either side end of the spectrum. I can only hope that others in similar situations can be self-aware enough to know that it is not worth giving up your happiness, as laerie had with her ex, in order to fill that need. Dreams and wishes can come true, I know mine certainly did.
This struck me as important because I've never heard anyone else discuss submission as a need. Rather, any discussion of BDSM kink is couched in the rhetoric of consent and desire. However, where do those individuals who have a visceral need, with or without said desire, fit? I consider myself to fall into this category as well as laerie. While I don't need to dominate, I need to lead - it gives me purpose in much the same way that submission does laerie.
Back to my original point though, laerie did not come to this lifestyle through any kind of desire. Hell, some days she'll still tell me that it's the last thing she wants. Despite that, it is unequivocally what she needs. Though we've only been in this dynamic for about a year and a half, looking back over our history I see myself having done many of the same things I do now, just behind the scenes. I've always played a guiding role in laerie's life, it is simply out in the open and given more power now.
Some days, I wonder what would've become of either of us if we had not met. I've struggled to find myself for the better part of the last decade, ever since I was no longer able to compete in the sport I loved due to health issues. Couple that with the identity struggles of a burgeoning dominant, and I had a number of tough years. Only recently, as we've begun to explore this dynamic more fully, have I regained the confidence that once characterized me, in all facets of my life. Being responsible for her and leading her has given me a purpose and a passion that I've long been lacking and I thank the stars everyday for us finding this peace together.
As for laerie, I think that I was meant to find her as well. Before I met her, I dated a number of submissive women, but no relationship lasted more than a date or two. These women weren't truly submissive, they were simply playing a role to please me, which struck me as very unpredictable and subsequently made me very uncomfortable. Then along comes laerie, whose demeanor and body language screamed submissive, though she was far too innocent and naive to have ever encountered the idea. There was no doubt though that her relationship with her ex-boyfriend had been a TPE, though it was never identified as such. Her story broke my heart, here was this amazing, sweet woman who wanted nothing more than someone to love her like she loved them. I knew from that day on that I would do everything in my power to make her mine. She was the first person I'd ever met whose need to submit mirrored my need to lead in such a visceral manner.
I shudder to think of what her future could've been had we not met though. As I stated earlier, her relationship with her ex was undoubtedly a form of TPE and she was miserable on the surface, but unwilling and unable to break free on a deeper level. That is all that she knew as love and she craved that feeling of "being under a man's thumb." It is not hard for me to imagine her dealing with abuse and/or neglect at the hands of another man. Unfortunately, we got a brief glimpse into what her future could've been just over a year ago, before we were able to openly and honestly discuss BDSM as an option for us. Despite my willingness to bend over backward to make sure that had everything she needed, she did not view me as a dominant figure in her life. How could she, the only dominance she knew was the cold, disinterest her ex had provided her, making her beg for his love and affection. Along came another man that she'd known for years. He began openly discussing his BDSM inclinations with her and, though she was horrified by the ideas of humiliation and degradation and elements of sadism he expressed a desire for, she couldn't help but be intrigued. Here was another man promising the same type of dominance that her ex had and she couldn't help but be attracted to it because it represented such a visceral need in her life. Thankfully, after MUCH discussion and time, and the opportunity to openly discuss my own prurient interests in the BDSM world, we were able to find ways to address that need within our own relationship.
To date, we're the only relationship that I've seen framed in this way, as a need primarily and a want secondarily. I don't know if it's an issue of semantics or that perhaps disguising the discourse of kink in the language of desire and consent makes it more approachable. However, I cannot imagine that we are the only people that have felt this visceral need on either side end of the spectrum. I can only hope that others in similar situations can be self-aware enough to know that it is not worth giving up your happiness, as laerie had with her ex, in order to fill that need. Dreams and wishes can come true, I know mine certainly did.
Why I'm here (laerie)
I need a place to vent.
I would say, "that is all," to instill how true those words are, but wouldn't that also go against those words?
I feel like I have exactly 2 people besides D in my life that I could talk to about our lifestyle choices. One of them is also a Dom and it's somewhat difficult to talk to when it comes to sub problems because he just doesn't understand my perspective...and insists on debating nearly every topic I bring up, which I don't have the patience for. The other is one of my oldest friends, but she is so wrapped up in her life I would feel bad imposing my struggles on her. Typical sub...avoiding confrontation at all costs.
So I turn instead, to the empty walls and pages of the internet blog, where (hopefully) no eyes related to me will ever fall. Not to say that the bdsm lifestyle is all I've ever talk about, but it is a huge part of who I am that I don't really get the chance to speak about openly, except to D.
Other than bdsm, I'm interested in creating. I'm a fairly crafty/artistic person. I love cooking and trying new recipes or making something out of nothing. I scour Pinterest for hours on end, looking for awesome one-of-a-kind pieces and saying, "psh...I could make that." And then I do. I love painting, making jewelry, and everything in between. If only I had more time.
I'm highly emotional and most of the time cannot make sense of my emotions. I will more than likely make this a place where I can write about A, my late brother, simply because I need to get it out because I'm afraid I will forget. I said this in my last post (which was about A), but I want to write a novel about his life. It will be freeing for many of the members of my family, give me a hobby for a while, and hopefully inspire people with his story. It won't do him justice, but it will at least serve as a tribute for how much I loved him.
I may also sometimes write about my ridiculous cats. I'm pursuing an M.S. in literacy education, so as I go through the classes, I'm sure I'll have stories. This may also be the place I can write about my dysfunctional family, the woes of my job, and my champagne problems (aka FML). I can be quite funny, and my hyperbolic rants are a good way to clear my head and then later laugh at the ridiculousness.
So, that's me...I can't really think of anything more to write, but I hope that did me justice...
I would say, "that is all," to instill how true those words are, but wouldn't that also go against those words?
I feel like I have exactly 2 people besides D in my life that I could talk to about our lifestyle choices. One of them is also a Dom and it's somewhat difficult to talk to when it comes to sub problems because he just doesn't understand my perspective...and insists on debating nearly every topic I bring up, which I don't have the patience for. The other is one of my oldest friends, but she is so wrapped up in her life I would feel bad imposing my struggles on her. Typical sub...avoiding confrontation at all costs.
So I turn instead, to the empty walls and pages of the internet blog, where (hopefully) no eyes related to me will ever fall. Not to say that the bdsm lifestyle is all I've ever talk about, but it is a huge part of who I am that I don't really get the chance to speak about openly, except to D.
Other than bdsm, I'm interested in creating. I'm a fairly crafty/artistic person. I love cooking and trying new recipes or making something out of nothing. I scour Pinterest for hours on end, looking for awesome one-of-a-kind pieces and saying, "psh...I could make that." And then I do. I love painting, making jewelry, and everything in between. If only I had more time.
I'm highly emotional and most of the time cannot make sense of my emotions. I will more than likely make this a place where I can write about A, my late brother, simply because I need to get it out because I'm afraid I will forget. I said this in my last post (which was about A), but I want to write a novel about his life. It will be freeing for many of the members of my family, give me a hobby for a while, and hopefully inspire people with his story. It won't do him justice, but it will at least serve as a tribute for how much I loved him.
I may also sometimes write about my ridiculous cats. I'm pursuing an M.S. in literacy education, so as I go through the classes, I'm sure I'll have stories. This may also be the place I can write about my dysfunctional family, the woes of my job, and my champagne problems (aka FML). I can be quite funny, and my hyperbolic rants are a good way to clear my head and then later laugh at the ridiculousness.
So, that's me...I can't really think of anything more to write, but I hope that did me justice...
Monday, May 21, 2012
Weepy rambling free write
D and I were cleaning all day, so we decided to treat ourselves to a nice, relaxing dinner out. After working and sweating all day, it felt great to shower and get all gussied up for my man. However, on the way to the restaurant, I was recounting the very odd dreams I had last night to D. Other than one of me setting off a toilet bomb with my pregnant student teaching host teacher, I had one about my late brother, A, and woke from that dream crying. It seems so strange to say it, but yes, I was actually crying when I woke up. Tears in my eyes, streaming onto my temples and nestling into my hair. Of course I wasn't sobbing or hiccuping like one does during a hard cry, it was more like the silent type of cry where just a few tears stream down your face and then you regain control. I woke this way in the wee hours of the morning, so after wiping away the tears, readjusting my pillow, and hoping for a happier dream, I fell right into a dreamless sleep.
As strange as this sounds, this is not the first time I've woken up crying. Most every time I dream of my brother, I'm crying in my dreams because I miss him or I've lost him again and when I wake up, the tears are real. I've never experienced pain like this loss before and think it speaks volumes about how badly I miss him that the pain in my dreams can become a reality before I even open my eyes.
Needless to say, my weepy ways ruined our dinner plans. D sped by the restaurant and took me home to watch old home movies where I could hear my brother's laugh until I cried out what seemed to be every ounce of water in my body (yet I'm still crying as I write this). He took care of me, even though there was next to nothing he could do for this type of pain. I know it always throws him off when I get upset about my brother because he's a fixer and there's nothing he can do to fix this pain for me. Still, he did a great job, collaring me so I wouldn't have to worry about anything else tonight, holding me, and setting me about the cathartic journey of writing out my sadness of the loss of A.
A died almost four years ago and I still get this way sometimes. I have accepted his death and moved on (after a year of depression and therapy), but I still think of him every day. Most are happy memories or just a reminder of his inspirational spirit, but every once in a while the pain of his loss rips through me like a tidal wave I never saw coming. I guess the memory of my pain this morning triggered what should have happened immediately because I lost it. I torture myself with the fact that I'll never see him again, that he won't be there when D and I get married, and that my future children will only hear stories about him.
My brother had a degenerative muscle disease, and it was only a matter of time before his lungs or heart stopped working. When he went into the hospital for a hip replacement after a freak accident that caused him to slip out of his wheel chair and break his hip, his weakened lungs never recovered from the anesthesia. He developed pneumonia and was on life support for 10 days. He was heavily sedated most of the time, but we were able to wake him up once in a while to talk to him before the drugs pulled him once more into oblivion. I apologized to him for the two things I did to him in our childhood that I truly regret. He smiled...I think that was his way of saying that I was crazy for even remembering it, let alone apologizing for it. But I needed to tell him. Still, those incidents plague me and I am ashamed of the way I treated him at those times.
A had a living will, but my father was fighting the doctors to keep him going, praying for a recovery. When they finally said there was nothing more they could do and his condition was declining, we decided it was time for A to take control of his fate. My father, mother, sister, and I piled into the room and my dad gently shook A out of sedation. He opened his eyes and looked at all of us with a haunting emptiness. "A," my father asked, with tears in his eyes, "do you want to keep fighting?" He closed his eyes and slowly, yet unmistakably, shook his head "no". The tears that were streaming at that point came more freely after that because we all knew it was over. We looked back and forth to each other, seeing our own pain reflected in each others faces. With his eyes still closed, A opened his arms to us, an embrace his silent and final goodbye.
I was with him while he died...an experience I will never, ever forget. I wanted him to pass knowing how much we all loved him. I don't think I've ever prayed so hard for a miracle. And I'll never forget seeing one of the young nurses crying for us as we exited the room after he took his last breath.
I know my horomones are making me overly emotional right now and that's why I'm extra weepy. In a week or so perhaps I'll write a hilarious story about A (which I have tons of), but this needed to be written. I have been wanting to write a novel about A's life for the longest time, and maybe this is just the beginning, even though it was the end. Still, the end is not really the end, because A will live forever in my heart.
AJC - 01/25/84 - 07/25/08
As strange as this sounds, this is not the first time I've woken up crying. Most every time I dream of my brother, I'm crying in my dreams because I miss him or I've lost him again and when I wake up, the tears are real. I've never experienced pain like this loss before and think it speaks volumes about how badly I miss him that the pain in my dreams can become a reality before I even open my eyes.
Needless to say, my weepy ways ruined our dinner plans. D sped by the restaurant and took me home to watch old home movies where I could hear my brother's laugh until I cried out what seemed to be every ounce of water in my body (yet I'm still crying as I write this). He took care of me, even though there was next to nothing he could do for this type of pain. I know it always throws him off when I get upset about my brother because he's a fixer and there's nothing he can do to fix this pain for me. Still, he did a great job, collaring me so I wouldn't have to worry about anything else tonight, holding me, and setting me about the cathartic journey of writing out my sadness of the loss of A.
A died almost four years ago and I still get this way sometimes. I have accepted his death and moved on (after a year of depression and therapy), but I still think of him every day. Most are happy memories or just a reminder of his inspirational spirit, but every once in a while the pain of his loss rips through me like a tidal wave I never saw coming. I guess the memory of my pain this morning triggered what should have happened immediately because I lost it. I torture myself with the fact that I'll never see him again, that he won't be there when D and I get married, and that my future children will only hear stories about him.
My brother had a degenerative muscle disease, and it was only a matter of time before his lungs or heart stopped working. When he went into the hospital for a hip replacement after a freak accident that caused him to slip out of his wheel chair and break his hip, his weakened lungs never recovered from the anesthesia. He developed pneumonia and was on life support for 10 days. He was heavily sedated most of the time, but we were able to wake him up once in a while to talk to him before the drugs pulled him once more into oblivion. I apologized to him for the two things I did to him in our childhood that I truly regret. He smiled...I think that was his way of saying that I was crazy for even remembering it, let alone apologizing for it. But I needed to tell him. Still, those incidents plague me and I am ashamed of the way I treated him at those times.
A had a living will, but my father was fighting the doctors to keep him going, praying for a recovery. When they finally said there was nothing more they could do and his condition was declining, we decided it was time for A to take control of his fate. My father, mother, sister, and I piled into the room and my dad gently shook A out of sedation. He opened his eyes and looked at all of us with a haunting emptiness. "A," my father asked, with tears in his eyes, "do you want to keep fighting?" He closed his eyes and slowly, yet unmistakably, shook his head "no". The tears that were streaming at that point came more freely after that because we all knew it was over. We looked back and forth to each other, seeing our own pain reflected in each others faces. With his eyes still closed, A opened his arms to us, an embrace his silent and final goodbye.
I was with him while he died...an experience I will never, ever forget. I wanted him to pass knowing how much we all loved him. I don't think I've ever prayed so hard for a miracle. And I'll never forget seeing one of the young nurses crying for us as we exited the room after he took his last breath.
I know my horomones are making me overly emotional right now and that's why I'm extra weepy. In a week or so perhaps I'll write a hilarious story about A (which I have tons of), but this needed to be written. I have been wanting to write a novel about A's life for the longest time, and maybe this is just the beginning, even though it was the end. Still, the end is not really the end, because A will live forever in my heart.
AJC - 01/25/84 - 07/25/08
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Dominance as a service
As I read yet another post about so called "service tops" and how they're not "twue doms," I can't help but cringe. I've been meaning to tackle this topic for a long time, but the thought of enduring the trolls and flames that plague most forums is exhausting. However, this new blog seems like the perfect place to put these thoughts together before taking them to a wider audience.
For the moment, let's take for granted that submission is inherently tied to service. However, I believe that the same can be said of dominance as well. Is it not the responsibility of the dominant to ensure that the submissive's needs are being met? From a logical perspective, I cannot see any submissive being able to entrust their physical and mental well-being to a dominant that they did not believe would provide them with whatever form of dominance they were seeking, as well as the care needed to make sure its done properly. I would hope that any dominant doing anything else than meeting those needs would not have a very long relationship with that submissive, though I am not naive enough to think that is always the case.
Regardless, I'm sure there are also exceptions that prove the rule. My relationship however, is not one of them. As a Daddy Dom, I am absolutely in service to my little one. I have to make sure that she has the structure and discipline needed to succeed in the big bad world. And that often requires me to do things that I'd rather not at that moment. Even though I ostensibly have the power to do whatever it is that I want, I often have to put those wants aside to meet my little one's needs. If I didn't make those choices, or rather, if she couldn't trust me to take care of her above all else, I don't imagine our relationship would continue much longer, at least not in the same reference frame.
So hopefully the next time someone utters the phrase "service top," we can begin to look past the negative implications and realize that all of us dominant types serve our submissives to one degree or another, even if it's not readily visible, and that there is nothing wrong with that.
For the moment, let's take for granted that submission is inherently tied to service. However, I believe that the same can be said of dominance as well. Is it not the responsibility of the dominant to ensure that the submissive's needs are being met? From a logical perspective, I cannot see any submissive being able to entrust their physical and mental well-being to a dominant that they did not believe would provide them with whatever form of dominance they were seeking, as well as the care needed to make sure its done properly. I would hope that any dominant doing anything else than meeting those needs would not have a very long relationship with that submissive, though I am not naive enough to think that is always the case.
Regardless, I'm sure there are also exceptions that prove the rule. My relationship however, is not one of them. As a Daddy Dom, I am absolutely in service to my little one. I have to make sure that she has the structure and discipline needed to succeed in the big bad world. And that often requires me to do things that I'd rather not at that moment. Even though I ostensibly have the power to do whatever it is that I want, I often have to put those wants aside to meet my little one's needs. If I didn't make those choices, or rather, if she couldn't trust me to take care of her above all else, I don't imagine our relationship would continue much longer, at least not in the same reference frame.
So hopefully the next time someone utters the phrase "service top," we can begin to look past the negative implications and realize that all of us dominant types serve our submissives to one degree or another, even if it's not readily visible, and that there is nothing wrong with that.
Saturday, May 19, 2012
Big Surprise... The Internet is Full of Idiots
I belong to a fairly prominent golf forum site where I've bought and
sold equipment with perfect feedback, as well as an illustrious amateur
career on eBay (never underestimate the power of retail therapy for the
depressed... seriously). Anyway... I had a problem with a shaft I had
sold a year ago on eBay that the buyer returned. Despite following the
dispute process to the letter through eBay, he still left me negative
feedback. At the time, I was willing to chalk it up to him being a
douche and move on.
Fast forward eight months. I've finally gotten around to cleaning out the spare closet and come across the "defective" shaft. Deciding that I still don't see the cracking he so adamantly insisted was present, I had it checked out with a local clubmaker who assured me that it was sound. So I posted it for sale on the classifieds of this golf site for a deeply discounted rate. Despite the clubmaker's assurance, I still didn't want to take any chances. And guess who comes along and makes a post flaming me on the site and bitching about how little feedback means now (since I had perfect feedback and he'd had "problems" dealing with me in the past). AND he invokes emulating Jesus in doing so. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!!!!! I couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry at the ridiculousness of the situation.
Granted, I overreacted with my retaliation when I not only explained my side of the story but also called out his supposed values over publicly calling me out on the forums without so much as a courtesy message expressing his concerns. It was quite the visceral thrill though cutting his claims to pieces and being able to prove he was lying (ah the joy of timestamps on digital photographs). His uppance will come!
As a graduate student, I’m perpetually broke and short on time, yet somehow seem to spend those scarce resources all too freely. However, despite occupying one of the, arguably, bottom rungs on the ladder of social importance, I still manage to treat the people that I encounter with decency and respect. It utterly amazes me how many people out there in the big bad world have no common decency or automatically assume the worst of every single person around them. It’s no wonder that society is plagued with fear when we expect nothing but the worst of each other.
I wouldn’t say that I’m an overly fluffy person, but I do believe that our world could certainly be a happier, more peaceful place if everyone simply demonstrated basic manners in their everyday life. Somehow we need to find a way to slow life down and learn to interact with each other across shared identities rather than continue to create arbitrary boundaries. Sometimes a simple “thank you” is all it takes. Or if you can’t manage that, just don’t automatically assume the worst from everyone. Otherwise you might become cynical and jaded. Oh wait…
Fast forward eight months. I've finally gotten around to cleaning out the spare closet and come across the "defective" shaft. Deciding that I still don't see the cracking he so adamantly insisted was present, I had it checked out with a local clubmaker who assured me that it was sound. So I posted it for sale on the classifieds of this golf site for a deeply discounted rate. Despite the clubmaker's assurance, I still didn't want to take any chances. And guess who comes along and makes a post flaming me on the site and bitching about how little feedback means now (since I had perfect feedback and he'd had "problems" dealing with me in the past). AND he invokes emulating Jesus in doing so. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!!!!! I couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry at the ridiculousness of the situation.
Granted, I overreacted with my retaliation when I not only explained my side of the story but also called out his supposed values over publicly calling me out on the forums without so much as a courtesy message expressing his concerns. It was quite the visceral thrill though cutting his claims to pieces and being able to prove he was lying (ah the joy of timestamps on digital photographs). His uppance will come!
As a graduate student, I’m perpetually broke and short on time, yet somehow seem to spend those scarce resources all too freely. However, despite occupying one of the, arguably, bottom rungs on the ladder of social importance, I still manage to treat the people that I encounter with decency and respect. It utterly amazes me how many people out there in the big bad world have no common decency or automatically assume the worst of every single person around them. It’s no wonder that society is plagued with fear when we expect nothing but the worst of each other.
I wouldn’t say that I’m an overly fluffy person, but I do believe that our world could certainly be a happier, more peaceful place if everyone simply demonstrated basic manners in their everyday life. Somehow we need to find a way to slow life down and learn to interact with each other across shared identities rather than continue to create arbitrary boundaries. Sometimes a simple “thank you” is all it takes. Or if you can’t manage that, just don’t automatically assume the worst from everyone. Otherwise you might become cynical and jaded. Oh wait…
Our journey to a 24/7 TPE dynamic
D and I have been working toward this dynamic for about 18 months. We
kept hitting roadblocks along the way, but always kept open lines of
communication and continued to grow in love. It was very difficult
because he is currently working on his PhD and I’m an M.S. student, so
we’re both incredibly busy. To be honest, we did not privilege the
dynamic because school and work took up the majority of our time. Since
it’s summertime now (THANK YOU, SWEET BABY JESUS) we finally have the
time to pound out some rules, get strict, and make our lives what we
want it to be in time for our wedding next summer.
Regardless of whether I knew it or not, I have always been a very submissive woman. I rejected it often because it made me feel like less of a feminist and that I was not being strong in my woman-ness. That was one of the roadblocks. Couple that with an ex that took my will away without my consent at a very young age through manipulation and coercion, and the idea of letting anyone control me left a bad taste in my mouth. When we broke up, it left a void in my life that I did not even realize was there. I was with fuckstick (as D likes to call him) from age 13-19 so I really had no idea how to carry myself as an independent person. Without a dominant force in my life, I was lost and left to control my own life, which I had absolutely no idea how to do.
My anxiety started soon after I escaped hell with fuckstick. It became more pronounced over the years as I was required to make bigger decision regarding school and my future. Despite D’s best efforts, it got really bad last semester because I was so busy – so bad that I had a panic attack IN CLASS. Granted, I was busier than I had ever been in my entire life, but I still feel that same type of anxiety over very small situations. This made me realize that I needed something more, but I always felt bad asking D for help because he was so busy with his PhD work.
I absolutely loathe making any type of decision, large or small. Even choosing a restaurant (Chipotle of Five Guys for lunch?) makes my skin crawl. Oftentimes, I would say to D, “I don’t care.” He took this to mean that I did care, just that I wasn’t saying my preference. In actuality, I don’t care AND I want him to choose for me because I hate making decisions. In this way, D leads me. Of course, he does take my opinion into account and I’m not afraid of letting him know when I do or do not want to go to a specific restaurant. Usually, we compromise on two choices and then the final decision is his. I always want the final decision to be his (this process will take anywhere from 5 minutes to half an hour).
When faced with larger decisions, though, it takes hours and hours of discussion. For instance, when I was choosing where to take summer courses last month. We spent about 10 hours in front of computer screens doing research, looking up course descriptions, emailing people, crunching numbers, etc, to figure out the best option for me. In this way, he is also leading me. I could not have done any of that without his help because the sheer thought of it caused a panic attack. Time was closing in, I was finishing up huge final projects for the semester’s end and working and I had to get summer courses lined up as well. I cried and he just said, “Calm down. We’ll figure this out together,” and directed me to every website I needed. He helped me make lists, kept track of my progress, and made sure I was staying on top of everything. He wants what is best for me and for us as a couple, which is why he works so hard to keep me sane :)
I did not pick this type of relationship. This is the life that I NEED. I need the structure, routine, and guidance to make sense of my world. Thankfully, when I met D five years ago he saw that in me. I did not even know I was a sub (I didn’t even know what it was!) but he saw it in me the first day we met. I was a broken shell of a person, but he saw everything that I could be and put me back together. He built me up into a strong, confident, and able-bodied woman BEFORE he even suggested a D/s lifestyle to me. Our relationship is unlike anyone else’s I’ve ever met. We turned to the Daddy/little girl lifestyle because it’s more about love, protection, and comfort than the traditional disciplinary format of M/s or D/s. We started out with those two and it was simply not working for us. More roadblocks. We exhausted every possibility before landing on one that worked. I did not want to be a slave, a servant, or even a sub. The semantics of it all pushed my buttons and I still have a problem with calling him "Sir" or him calling me his "slut" in bed (for a short time he called me his pancake because I disliked all of the terms so much). When I asked him if I could call him Daddy, he said yes even though it freaked him out a little (And here's a hilarious related quote from my favorite book: "He had once asked Rachel, ‘Who's your daddy?’ during sex, to which she had replied, "Saul Goldstein," thus rendering him impotent for a week…" – A Dirty Job by Christopher Moore) and that is when our new dynamic was born. He has always called me baby, darling, and little girl anyway, so we kind of just fell into it without actually knowing it was a thing. It’s perfect. It’s everything both of us have ever wanted.
He has always had a dominant personality and been interested in the BDSM, but he was gentle with me and careful because of my past. I had trust issues and did not want to be controlled (still don't - he does not CONTROL me, he GUIDES me...semantics, again). He was patient, helped me work out who I really am, and now we’re both happier than we have ever been. We present the opposite side to each other’s coin. He needs and wants to lead someone through life, and I need and want to be led. It helps that he is a few years older (and many, many years wiser) than me and has the brains and strength to do so without leading me wrong. We don’t do age play, but he takes care of me and guides me much like a father would. I feel safe, protected, and loved... a warm fuzzy feelings spreads throughout my body when he calls me his little girl. We have collars much like a D/s relationship and while I am a submissive woman, I do not want to be a sub or a slave. We have 3 different collars for different meanings.
Every dynamic is different and we picked and chose certain things from each as we tried them. I know there will surely be more kinks (hah, kinks) along the way, but we both feel like we’ve had a EUREKA! moment while making these rules and falling into these roles.
What has 24/7 given me? We have been doing this for about 2 weeks and I feel more comfortable in my skin than I ever have. I felt like that void has been filled. We’ve slowly been putting the pieces back in place for the last 18 months but I feel now like I’m bursting. I’ve never been happier. I’ve never felt more at ease. I’ve never felt more loved. This lifestyle has freed me. I feel as though the collar, mental (his guidance and love) or tangible, has created a force field around me that nothing bad can penetrate. It takes a lot of work though, and I know we still have a very long way to go. I think anyone in a healthy relationship will tell you that they work hard on their relationship to keep going strong. The structure of our dynamic requires a LOT of work. However, we are both committed to each other enough to do it. I am less anxious because I know he will be there to catch me when I fall. I’m free to let go because he is always there for me and I will soon call him my husband. Even throughout this post I’ve referred to him as D, not D for Daddy, but because his first name begins with D, and the two are not mutually exclusive. He is D: my lover, my fiancĂ©, my Daddy, my Dom, my Master, my protector, my leader, my soul mate, and my very best friend. I don’t think I could ask for anything more.
Regardless of whether I knew it or not, I have always been a very submissive woman. I rejected it often because it made me feel like less of a feminist and that I was not being strong in my woman-ness. That was one of the roadblocks. Couple that with an ex that took my will away without my consent at a very young age through manipulation and coercion, and the idea of letting anyone control me left a bad taste in my mouth. When we broke up, it left a void in my life that I did not even realize was there. I was with fuckstick (as D likes to call him) from age 13-19 so I really had no idea how to carry myself as an independent person. Without a dominant force in my life, I was lost and left to control my own life, which I had absolutely no idea how to do.
My anxiety started soon after I escaped hell with fuckstick. It became more pronounced over the years as I was required to make bigger decision regarding school and my future. Despite D’s best efforts, it got really bad last semester because I was so busy – so bad that I had a panic attack IN CLASS. Granted, I was busier than I had ever been in my entire life, but I still feel that same type of anxiety over very small situations. This made me realize that I needed something more, but I always felt bad asking D for help because he was so busy with his PhD work.
I absolutely loathe making any type of decision, large or small. Even choosing a restaurant (Chipotle of Five Guys for lunch?) makes my skin crawl. Oftentimes, I would say to D, “I don’t care.” He took this to mean that I did care, just that I wasn’t saying my preference. In actuality, I don’t care AND I want him to choose for me because I hate making decisions. In this way, D leads me. Of course, he does take my opinion into account and I’m not afraid of letting him know when I do or do not want to go to a specific restaurant. Usually, we compromise on two choices and then the final decision is his. I always want the final decision to be his (this process will take anywhere from 5 minutes to half an hour).
When faced with larger decisions, though, it takes hours and hours of discussion. For instance, when I was choosing where to take summer courses last month. We spent about 10 hours in front of computer screens doing research, looking up course descriptions, emailing people, crunching numbers, etc, to figure out the best option for me. In this way, he is also leading me. I could not have done any of that without his help because the sheer thought of it caused a panic attack. Time was closing in, I was finishing up huge final projects for the semester’s end and working and I had to get summer courses lined up as well. I cried and he just said, “Calm down. We’ll figure this out together,” and directed me to every website I needed. He helped me make lists, kept track of my progress, and made sure I was staying on top of everything. He wants what is best for me and for us as a couple, which is why he works so hard to keep me sane :)
I did not pick this type of relationship. This is the life that I NEED. I need the structure, routine, and guidance to make sense of my world. Thankfully, when I met D five years ago he saw that in me. I did not even know I was a sub (I didn’t even know what it was!) but he saw it in me the first day we met. I was a broken shell of a person, but he saw everything that I could be and put me back together. He built me up into a strong, confident, and able-bodied woman BEFORE he even suggested a D/s lifestyle to me. Our relationship is unlike anyone else’s I’ve ever met. We turned to the Daddy/little girl lifestyle because it’s more about love, protection, and comfort than the traditional disciplinary format of M/s or D/s. We started out with those two and it was simply not working for us. More roadblocks. We exhausted every possibility before landing on one that worked. I did not want to be a slave, a servant, or even a sub. The semantics of it all pushed my buttons and I still have a problem with calling him "Sir" or him calling me his "slut" in bed (for a short time he called me his pancake because I disliked all of the terms so much). When I asked him if I could call him Daddy, he said yes even though it freaked him out a little (And here's a hilarious related quote from my favorite book: "He had once asked Rachel, ‘Who's your daddy?’ during sex, to which she had replied, "Saul Goldstein," thus rendering him impotent for a week…" – A Dirty Job by Christopher Moore) and that is when our new dynamic was born. He has always called me baby, darling, and little girl anyway, so we kind of just fell into it without actually knowing it was a thing. It’s perfect. It’s everything both of us have ever wanted.
He has always had a dominant personality and been interested in the BDSM, but he was gentle with me and careful because of my past. I had trust issues and did not want to be controlled (still don't - he does not CONTROL me, he GUIDES me...semantics, again). He was patient, helped me work out who I really am, and now we’re both happier than we have ever been. We present the opposite side to each other’s coin. He needs and wants to lead someone through life, and I need and want to be led. It helps that he is a few years older (and many, many years wiser) than me and has the brains and strength to do so without leading me wrong. We don’t do age play, but he takes care of me and guides me much like a father would. I feel safe, protected, and loved... a warm fuzzy feelings spreads throughout my body when he calls me his little girl. We have collars much like a D/s relationship and while I am a submissive woman, I do not want to be a sub or a slave. We have 3 different collars for different meanings.
- When we committed to this lifestyle a year ago (before we even found a dynamic that worked for us) he bought me an eternity bracelet. He wanted to collar me, and I suggested something less conspicuous so I could wear it daily without feeling self-conscious. I don’t want people I know to know. I’ve worn it since the day I got it as a reminder of our eternal love (that sounds cheesy, but it is true) and the level of commitment we have to one another.
- We have a leather collar that is strictly used for bedroom play (simply because he thinks it’s hot).
- My steel collar is the high-protocol collar. It can only be removed with a special tool that only he has. I believe these high-protocol rules will eventually bleed into our every day routines and it will simply become a mental collar that I wear 24/7. For now, it is a way for me to let go of everything and free myself. IT FEELS SO GOOD to not have to make decisions, worry about what I should be doing, etc. When I wear this, he tells me what to do and I simply follow his direction, much like a slave would a Master. If he wants me to sit at his feet and watch a movie, that’s what I do. He’ll have me write, possibly do my daily chores, or paint my toe nails. It’s all about narrowing my world down to a singular focus that he gives me. I NEED THIS sometimes. When I feel anxious about what I have to do, I will tell him I need the collar and he takes complete control. I aspire to one day have a lifestyle reminiscent of a slave, but want to be his little girl, not his slave.
Every dynamic is different and we picked and chose certain things from each as we tried them. I know there will surely be more kinks (hah, kinks) along the way, but we both feel like we’ve had a EUREKA! moment while making these rules and falling into these roles.
What has 24/7 given me? We have been doing this for about 2 weeks and I feel more comfortable in my skin than I ever have. I felt like that void has been filled. We’ve slowly been putting the pieces back in place for the last 18 months but I feel now like I’m bursting. I’ve never been happier. I’ve never felt more at ease. I’ve never felt more loved. This lifestyle has freed me. I feel as though the collar, mental (his guidance and love) or tangible, has created a force field around me that nothing bad can penetrate. It takes a lot of work though, and I know we still have a very long way to go. I think anyone in a healthy relationship will tell you that they work hard on their relationship to keep going strong. The structure of our dynamic requires a LOT of work. However, we are both committed to each other enough to do it. I am less anxious because I know he will be there to catch me when I fall. I’m free to let go because he is always there for me and I will soon call him my husband. Even throughout this post I’ve referred to him as D, not D for Daddy, but because his first name begins with D, and the two are not mutually exclusive. He is D: my lover, my fiancĂ©, my Daddy, my Dom, my Master, my protector, my leader, my soul mate, and my very best friend. I don’t think I could ask for anything more.
Why we're here
I've been meaning to start a blog for a long time now. In fact, it's
been continuously on my to do list for the last fourteen months or so,
since my two day spurt on tumblr. So here I am, and here's hoping that
my energy lasts a lot longer with this one.
So who am I and why should you care? Despite my insistence on remaining anonymous (I bailed on tumblr precisely because family came WAY too close to finding out WAY more about me than I wanted them to know), I believe I have some fairly interesting thoughts and far too few people in my life that I can discuss them with.
As to who I am... I'm an eclectic mix to say the least. I'm an avowed socialist from a wealthy family. I'm a PhD candidate at an R1 university. I'm an avid golfer and sailor and former rower. I am fanatical about college athletics and pay zero attention to pro sports. My interest in music peaked with Nirvana and Pearl Jam and Reel Big Fish in the late 90s. I live on the writings of David Sedaris and Christopher Moore, but also browse fanfiction stories just for free fiction to consume. I'm also the Daddy Dom in a 24/7 BDSM relationship with a wonderfully submissive woman who will soon be my wife. I'm sure I'll touch on all of those topics and many more - I predict the ravings of my conspiracy theorist uncle who joined a cult will provide particularly amusing fodder for many posts.
And I decided to drag my wonderful fiancee along for the ride as well. She can explain herself in another post. I wouldn't dare to pretend that I could do her justice!
Here's to new beginnings and new outlets for the mess that swirls around the in that empty space between my ears.
So who am I and why should you care? Despite my insistence on remaining anonymous (I bailed on tumblr precisely because family came WAY too close to finding out WAY more about me than I wanted them to know), I believe I have some fairly interesting thoughts and far too few people in my life that I can discuss them with.
As to who I am... I'm an eclectic mix to say the least. I'm an avowed socialist from a wealthy family. I'm a PhD candidate at an R1 university. I'm an avid golfer and sailor and former rower. I am fanatical about college athletics and pay zero attention to pro sports. My interest in music peaked with Nirvana and Pearl Jam and Reel Big Fish in the late 90s. I live on the writings of David Sedaris and Christopher Moore, but also browse fanfiction stories just for free fiction to consume. I'm also the Daddy Dom in a 24/7 BDSM relationship with a wonderfully submissive woman who will soon be my wife. I'm sure I'll touch on all of those topics and many more - I predict the ravings of my conspiracy theorist uncle who joined a cult will provide particularly amusing fodder for many posts.
And I decided to drag my wonderful fiancee along for the ride as well. She can explain herself in another post. I wouldn't dare to pretend that I could do her justice!
Here's to new beginnings and new outlets for the mess that swirls around the in that empty space between my ears.
Words to live by
“We need to make books cool again. If you go home with somebody and they don’t have books, don’t fuck them.” - John Waters
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