Saying the words or hearing the words of a thing again and again is one way to learn it, to carve it into your mind. But that doesn't necessarily bring understanding, or belief. Being immersed in the reality of a thing until the nature of that reality dawns on you is another way to learn a thing, and to see all of it's meanings, and to know that it is.
I am his. I always have been. He has always been mine. We are each wired that way. It's boring and maybe not very modern, but it is who we are.
I am his - now, no differently than i was before, in actuality; but in understanding, worlds differently.
I am his, though he doesn't say those words, or the others that would lay his claim. To say the words would be easy for him. I thought the words were the key, the step i was waiting for.
I am his, and now i know this, in my mind, as a fact, and in my being, as a thing that just is.
I am his, just like i have wanted to be.
I am his - to play with, to lean on, to take pride in, to shape and mold, to take refuge in, to rail at the world through, to explore and push, to have, and to just be.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Saturday, May 21, 2011
my collar
I have a necklace my husband gave me a little over a year ago, to mark a very significant occasion in my life. I rarely wear jewlery, particularly necklaces. He asked me to wear this one, "most of the time (except when it might get lost - certain sports, etc" And i do. I wear it almost all the time.
It is a pretty necklace, very nice, it goes with everything, but is completely normal looking, nothing unique - no one would guess.
But i should back up - he doesn't call it a collar - not ever, in jest or in earnest. Neither do i, out loud. In my mind though it has a special meaning. He doesn't call it that, but the few times i have felt like giving up entirely on ttwd, i took it off and he noticed and ordered me to put it back on.
I truly don't know how he views it: symbolically, or the idea of collaring - either one. He may know of the idea of a collar, and indulge me in allowing me to view this necklace in that context even though he doesn't see it that way. He may see it as a symbol of the changes in our relationship. He may prefer it not have this meaning attached to it at all. Or he may think it is just silly and think i am silly for thinking about any of this.
We each remove our wedding ring as needed to avoid loss, damage, whatever - it doesn't make us less married. I don't believe he sees me as "his" when i wear this necklace and not when i don't - our relationship is what it is all the time - even if the manifestation of that needs to change with the context or situation. This dynamic came to be rather slowly for us, not at a discreet point in time, certainly not at the point he gave this necklace to me.
There is, of course, a mystique around the idea of a collar for me. I'm pretty sure he doesn't feel that at all. But for me, it feeds into the idea of being completely and wholly his, something i do want very much. I am very drawn to the idea of a concrete expression of that. I recognize of course that it is the state of being and the actual relationship i want, not the outward symbol of it. A collar is different than a wedding ring in this regard: it is a symbol of course, but the object itself (a real one) is also a means of accomplishing the restraint and control (and maybe humiliation) that is part of the relationship.
There is a lot about ttwd he doesn't see in the usual way, or doesn't think about at all. There are words he will not use. There has been no formal "training" in what we do, certainly no "training collar". I do find that when i think of him in certain ways, when i need to remember something he told me, to be able to recall and feel his control when we are not together, I will idly play with my necklace.
For me, in my mind, it serves some of the same functions a "real" collar would. I think he probably knows this on some level. It is (interesting?, ironic?, contrived?, bassackwards?) that there is an object i view and even rely on as a reminder of him and of his conrol, but which he didn't intend that way and may not even know is playing that role. I suppose he will know now.
It is a pretty necklace, very nice, it goes with everything, but is completely normal looking, nothing unique - no one would guess.
But i should back up - he doesn't call it a collar - not ever, in jest or in earnest. Neither do i, out loud. In my mind though it has a special meaning. He doesn't call it that, but the few times i have felt like giving up entirely on ttwd, i took it off and he noticed and ordered me to put it back on.
I truly don't know how he views it: symbolically, or the idea of collaring - either one. He may know of the idea of a collar, and indulge me in allowing me to view this necklace in that context even though he doesn't see it that way. He may see it as a symbol of the changes in our relationship. He may prefer it not have this meaning attached to it at all. Or he may think it is just silly and think i am silly for thinking about any of this.
We each remove our wedding ring as needed to avoid loss, damage, whatever - it doesn't make us less married. I don't believe he sees me as "his" when i wear this necklace and not when i don't - our relationship is what it is all the time - even if the manifestation of that needs to change with the context or situation. This dynamic came to be rather slowly for us, not at a discreet point in time, certainly not at the point he gave this necklace to me.
There is, of course, a mystique around the idea of a collar for me. I'm pretty sure he doesn't feel that at all. But for me, it feeds into the idea of being completely and wholly his, something i do want very much. I am very drawn to the idea of a concrete expression of that. I recognize of course that it is the state of being and the actual relationship i want, not the outward symbol of it. A collar is different than a wedding ring in this regard: it is a symbol of course, but the object itself (a real one) is also a means of accomplishing the restraint and control (and maybe humiliation) that is part of the relationship.
There is a lot about ttwd he doesn't see in the usual way, or doesn't think about at all. There are words he will not use. There has been no formal "training" in what we do, certainly no "training collar". I do find that when i think of him in certain ways, when i need to remember something he told me, to be able to recall and feel his control when we are not together, I will idly play with my necklace.
For me, in my mind, it serves some of the same functions a "real" collar would. I think he probably knows this on some level. It is (interesting?, ironic?, contrived?, bassackwards?) that there is an object i view and even rely on as a reminder of him and of his conrol, but which he didn't intend that way and may not even know is playing that role. I suppose he will know now.
Friday, May 20, 2011
i wonder what it looks like in there?
We had friends over for dinner - Vanilla friends - as far as we know, that's the only kind we have.
I was going to lend her a nice scarf/shawl to go with a dress she would be wearing to an event in a few days - so after dinner i asked her, "Do you want to go up and look at my wrap now?"
The men both heard "Do you want to go up and look at my rack now?"
Both were clearly confused, but neither of them questioned us until we came back down. Then i think they both really just had to know, because they both asked....
My husband had it in his mind we were lifting our shirts and showing each other....well, you know...
And her husband thought we might have a medieval torture device and some whips or floggers, an idea he dismissed with a scoff as being ludicrous and completely beyond the realm of possible.
Does make me wonder what it must be like inside their heads though....
I was going to lend her a nice scarf/shawl to go with a dress she would be wearing to an event in a few days - so after dinner i asked her, "Do you want to go up and look at my wrap now?"
The men both heard "Do you want to go up and look at my rack now?"
Both were clearly confused, but neither of them questioned us until we came back down. Then i think they both really just had to know, because they both asked....
My husband had it in his mind we were lifting our shirts and showing each other....well, you know...
And her husband thought we might have a medieval torture device and some whips or floggers, an idea he dismissed with a scoff as being ludicrous and completely beyond the realm of possible.
Does make me wonder what it must be like inside their heads though....
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
ashamed
Sometimes writing things down helps me figure them out. Sometimes i feel like i only start to get a handle on them that way - just start to make sense of it. Sometimes (too often to be honest) my ideas are way too complicated and the writing makes it moreso. Complicated isn't inherently bad - but someties it's wrong.
Sometimes someone has to point out to me the simple truth - and that happened yesterday
In my mind, my issues with neglecting to do the things i need to do to take care of myself when my husband is out of town must be deep and complex and perhaps unfixable. In my mind, it was related to punishments and discipline, and the fact that he doesn't work that way, and maybe he should, and i need to feel more control when he's gone, and he doesn't check up on me every day, and he must need to change how he does things, and i know he's disappointed by it, but that's not really enough to motivate me, i want him to do things his way - to be in charge - but i want him to force me to do what he wants, he wants me to do what he asks without his needing to force me, i should do what he wants, and, and, and....
And............. and it really is very simple.
Sometimes someone has to point out to me the simple truth - and that happened yesterday
In my mind, my issues with neglecting to do the things i need to do to take care of myself when my husband is out of town must be deep and complex and perhaps unfixable. In my mind, it was related to punishments and discipline, and the fact that he doesn't work that way, and maybe he should, and i need to feel more control when he's gone, and he doesn't check up on me every day, and he must need to change how he does things, and i know he's disappointed by it, but that's not really enough to motivate me, i want him to do things his way - to be in charge - but i want him to force me to do what he wants, he wants me to do what he asks without his needing to force me, i should do what he wants, and, and, and....
And............. and it really is very simple.
Disappointed should be everything.
I made it all about me and my wants
I've been very disrespectful
It's easy - do or don't do
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
when he's gone
He's gone pretty often, most weeks for a few days really. Every now and then he'll be home a whole week - which is lovely. He works hard to minimize the nights away. But life is life.
I am soooo different when he's not here. I am somewhat less than my usual shining paragon of respect and attentiveness. I seem to revert to a me that was me some years ago - not the best me possible, trust me.
For one thing, I don't sleep very much or very well. Not sleeping does not do wonders for my patience or motivation, or "yes sir" attitude.
I do take care of the kids, the schedules, the house, and even the dog. Of course i'm always involved in those things, I'm the mom. We work together really pretty well in those things. There is a subtle but distinct difference when he's home vs. away, but it's a pretty seamless transition really.
I don't take care of me though. I neglect the basics and i seem to be unable to manage the other, above and beyond things i do to take care of myself as well. This is not ok with him. He pokes and prods and pushes, but this is invariably where i fall down.
It occurred to me last night, as i lay wide awake past midnight, that when he's gone, when i do sleep, it's on his side of the bed. [Yes, he's one of those. Absolutely, no matter what, where ever he is, he sleeps on his side of the bed. Me - i can sleep pretty much any which way.] Maybe there's something meaningful or some deep metaphor to the fact that i take his place in the bed when he's gone; maybe it's just closer to the alarm clock.
Maybe there is also some deep, metaphorical meaning to the fact that, when he's gone, as i assume the control i need to (kids, house, etc), i exercise less control of myself, and by extension, i am being and doing far less than he wants of me.
I am soooo different when he's not here. I am somewhat less than my usual shining paragon of respect and attentiveness. I seem to revert to a me that was me some years ago - not the best me possible, trust me.
For one thing, I don't sleep very much or very well. Not sleeping does not do wonders for my patience or motivation, or "yes sir" attitude.
I do take care of the kids, the schedules, the house, and even the dog. Of course i'm always involved in those things, I'm the mom. We work together really pretty well in those things. There is a subtle but distinct difference when he's home vs. away, but it's a pretty seamless transition really.
I don't take care of me though. I neglect the basics and i seem to be unable to manage the other, above and beyond things i do to take care of myself as well. This is not ok with him. He pokes and prods and pushes, but this is invariably where i fall down.
It occurred to me last night, as i lay wide awake past midnight, that when he's gone, when i do sleep, it's on his side of the bed. [Yes, he's one of those. Absolutely, no matter what, where ever he is, he sleeps on his side of the bed. Me - i can sleep pretty much any which way.] Maybe there's something meaningful or some deep metaphor to the fact that i take his place in the bed when he's gone; maybe it's just closer to the alarm clock.
Maybe there is also some deep, metaphorical meaning to the fact that, when he's gone, as i assume the control i need to (kids, house, etc), i exercise less control of myself, and by extension, i am being and doing far less than he wants of me.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
a tale of two spankings
Well - more than spankings really.......
I think that the gamut runs from entirely sensual (the Dom does things that the sub loves, just enough, just the right way at just the right time, just the way she/he wants it, etc, etc... ) all the way to the other end of the spectrum (no safeword, just beat the hell out of the sub, no regard to her/his state of mind or body.) I haven't found the rating scale or operational definitions, but we are somewhere in between. Really, we jump all over, although certainly not towards the latter end of the spectrum.
Yesterday was nearer the sensual end. The day before, he did and said the things he knew would build my arousal. There was a lovely otk spanking the night before, then he teased me just to the edge, he used me, he whispered about the things he would do to me... There was a long, slow warm up that built in intensity perfectly, there were the implements i really love, there was touching and teasing and finally bringing me way over the edge.
He likes to make me happy. It took me a long time to accept and believe this; maybe not believe it's true, but believe it's ok. I guess that has always been my personality. All my life and still now, i have a very hard time letting people do things for me. But he wants to. He wants me to be happy, not in an indulged way, but in a filled with joy way. He especially wants to play my body and my mind to bring me pleasure (ok - so maybe that is indulging). And he especially loves to make me come.
Earlier in the week was a different time. I was preoccupied and edgy and given the choice, probably would have chosen to skip the whole thing. I know that the intensity, if not the pace, was not very different from yesterday - many of the implements were the same even. But my perception of it was entirely different. The restraints that usually move me to a different headspace only frustrated me. It hurt - pure and simple, beginning to end. And i was angry, mad, seething and not very able to control my breathing much less the rest of me.
We have safewords. Beyond that, he has stopped a few times in the past when he feels worried by the way i am acting or by what i say, even if not a safeword. We stop, talk and talk to figure out what's wrong; no harm, no foul. I have never used our words, and i didn't this time. In fact, I don't think i even asked him in plain English to stop.
And this is the part that makes me wonder. Why wouldn't i ask him to stop - either in plain words or with a safeword. Those are two very different issues i'm sure. Using the words 'stop' or 'quit' or such wouldn't really mean anything in that context, but would require me to let go of my control over myself and just be and do. And i'm not always able to let go of myself to that degree.
Using a safeword is a different matter. It would mean a great deal, it would stop the action, it should mean something is really wrong. To me - it should mean i am genuinely distressed or afraid. And I wasn't. I was furious, I wanted it all to end, but i didn't want him to stop. And there is a big difference.
For one thing, I am glad he didn't stop because I need to know he won't, that i can't manipulate him. For better or worse, I need to be reminded of this repeatedly. I need to believe that he does things for me because it is what he wants.
The few times that things have gone this way - it makes me question myself. Why do i do this? Why do i want it? Why is it part of me? Do i put up with the times like earlier in the week because i know that sometimes it will be like the second? Is it because i want to get to the part where we are finished and i can crawl into his arms and he holds me and tells me what a good girl i am? Is it because, no matter how much i wanted it to end, i felt closer and connected and safer and more confident in us, and in myself, for days afterward?
All of those are true, certainly. I know that there was more though. It is too simple to say it is what i agreed to, although that's true. It is what i agreed to. If you strip everything else away, it would come down to what he says goes, but i believe it is really much more complex than that for most people. It's maybe not too simple to say that he wanted it, and i wanted to give that to him. It made me very happy the rest of the week to know I had been able to give him what he wanted.
I think that the gamut runs from entirely sensual (the Dom does things that the sub loves, just enough, just the right way at just the right time, just the way she/he wants it, etc, etc... ) all the way to the other end of the spectrum (no safeword, just beat the hell out of the sub, no regard to her/his state of mind or body.) I haven't found the rating scale or operational definitions, but we are somewhere in between. Really, we jump all over, although certainly not towards the latter end of the spectrum.
Yesterday was nearer the sensual end. The day before, he did and said the things he knew would build my arousal. There was a lovely otk spanking the night before, then he teased me just to the edge, he used me, he whispered about the things he would do to me... There was a long, slow warm up that built in intensity perfectly, there were the implements i really love, there was touching and teasing and finally bringing me way over the edge.
He likes to make me happy. It took me a long time to accept and believe this; maybe not believe it's true, but believe it's ok. I guess that has always been my personality. All my life and still now, i have a very hard time letting people do things for me. But he wants to. He wants me to be happy, not in an indulged way, but in a filled with joy way. He especially wants to play my body and my mind to bring me pleasure (ok - so maybe that is indulging). And he especially loves to make me come.
Earlier in the week was a different time. I was preoccupied and edgy and given the choice, probably would have chosen to skip the whole thing. I know that the intensity, if not the pace, was not very different from yesterday - many of the implements were the same even. But my perception of it was entirely different. The restraints that usually move me to a different headspace only frustrated me. It hurt - pure and simple, beginning to end. And i was angry, mad, seething and not very able to control my breathing much less the rest of me.
We have safewords. Beyond that, he has stopped a few times in the past when he feels worried by the way i am acting or by what i say, even if not a safeword. We stop, talk and talk to figure out what's wrong; no harm, no foul. I have never used our words, and i didn't this time. In fact, I don't think i even asked him in plain English to stop.
And this is the part that makes me wonder. Why wouldn't i ask him to stop - either in plain words or with a safeword. Those are two very different issues i'm sure. Using the words 'stop' or 'quit' or such wouldn't really mean anything in that context, but would require me to let go of my control over myself and just be and do. And i'm not always able to let go of myself to that degree.
Using a safeword is a different matter. It would mean a great deal, it would stop the action, it should mean something is really wrong. To me - it should mean i am genuinely distressed or afraid. And I wasn't. I was furious, I wanted it all to end, but i didn't want him to stop. And there is a big difference.
For one thing, I am glad he didn't stop because I need to know he won't, that i can't manipulate him. For better or worse, I need to be reminded of this repeatedly. I need to believe that he does things for me because it is what he wants.
The few times that things have gone this way - it makes me question myself. Why do i do this? Why do i want it? Why is it part of me? Do i put up with the times like earlier in the week because i know that sometimes it will be like the second? Is it because i want to get to the part where we are finished and i can crawl into his arms and he holds me and tells me what a good girl i am? Is it because, no matter how much i wanted it to end, i felt closer and connected and safer and more confident in us, and in myself, for days afterward?
All of those are true, certainly. I know that there was more though. It is too simple to say it is what i agreed to, although that's true. It is what i agreed to. If you strip everything else away, it would come down to what he says goes, but i believe it is really much more complex than that for most people. It's maybe not too simple to say that he wanted it, and i wanted to give that to him. It made me very happy the rest of the week to know I had been able to give him what he wanted.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
It's time to dig in
The weather is finally catching up to the calandar. It's spring.
There is warmth and abundant rain.
And all around are colors and growth and interest.
It's time i start cultivating the gardens here in our new place.
We've done a lot of work on the inside.
Now the roof is fixed and the structure is sound.
I'm liking the look and the flow of the space we live in.
Now we need to look outside, to build on what we've prepared for.
There's real potential there, it just needs some work.
There is warmth and abundant rain.
And all around are colors and growth and interest.
It's time i start cultivating the gardens here in our new place.
We've done a lot of work on the inside.
Now the roof is fixed and the structure is sound.
I'm liking the look and the flow of the space we live in.
Now we need to look outside, to build on what we've prepared for.
There's real potential there, it just needs some work.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
I recently completed another trip around the sun. To celebrate the occasion, my husband (and boys) gave me really, really mundane kitchen implements. In fact - i got a shiny new pepper grinder, and one hot pad - yup - just one - cuz they thought one of my current set was still serviceable. There are lots and lots of wonderful things my husband is teaching the boys about being good men; birthday gifts is not one of them.
The thing is - there is usually a personal gift, just for me, not for public consumption. That gift is always very well thought out and planned, and usually very effective, and very appreciated. It's just that the world doesn't see it. This occasion was no exception.
My posts lately, for a good bit in fact, have been heavy on introspection and deep thoughts, mistakes made and lessons learned. Of course, that's because that is what life has mostly been recently: growing, growing pains i guess. The fantasy of it all, and the fantasies underneath it all, seem to have faded away a great deal. I guess the honeymoon's over... On to real life and all that...
I think that some of the overall benefits, the day to day effects, the really concrete stuff that makes our relationship and our family life better comes at the expense of the idealism, the fantasy, the imagination. I'm a pretty sensible girl, i know what is important, and i wouldn't trade the current feeling of closeness and (yes) intimacy that i have with my husband for anything. But i do miss that dark edge, the flip flop in my stomach at times, the sudden quickening of breath, the anticipation of being transported.
For us, the physical things that are peculiar to BDSM, or at least to *our* practice of it, are not used for punishment, or even discipline in a very strict sense. At one time, they would be used to help restore my sense of balance, or maybe adjust a wayward attitude. But lately, that has been accomplished more through words and effort. And I trust him, i don't need to go through daunting physical challenges to learn or to show my trust in him.
Which has left me wondering what role play might have for us at this point. Is it something we will just outgrow? Was my once-upon-a-time intense need for pain a delusion or a passing fancy? And what about the fantasy, the anticipation, the edge? Are those also things that get left by the wayside? Are they part of the honeymoon only? Are they a "less mature" way of expressing ourselves and we should outgrow them? Because i don't really want to give them up, but i do see that their role is not the same as it had been.
I've seen people write about not calling the physical interactions of BDSM "play", the arguement being it is real and serious and not pretend or to be taken lightly. I suppose that i have plenty of real and serious in my life already. My committment and submission to my husband is not perfect, but it is not taken lightly and is certainy not pretend. I can't help but think of our physical expression of that as play. It is all the best things that play is, free, expressive, physical, fun, challenging, exhausting, uplifting, revitalizing...
And i think that, at least right here, right now, play is exactly the right role for it: something to look forward to, a way for us to explore and express ourselves, a way to push each other, a way to realign those subtle shifts of power that get a little off in the day to day, a way to find joy in each other. And the special gift he gave me on this occasion? It has me (very intentionally i'm sure) swinging between anticipation and fear, between the excitiment of a deep rooted fantasy or maybe unexplored kink of mine and wondering if i'm just nuts. It has me a little in awe of him and a little on edge. Thinking about it takes me outside of the day to day and to a place that is just him and me.
The thing is - there is usually a personal gift, just for me, not for public consumption. That gift is always very well thought out and planned, and usually very effective, and very appreciated. It's just that the world doesn't see it. This occasion was no exception.
My posts lately, for a good bit in fact, have been heavy on introspection and deep thoughts, mistakes made and lessons learned. Of course, that's because that is what life has mostly been recently: growing, growing pains i guess. The fantasy of it all, and the fantasies underneath it all, seem to have faded away a great deal. I guess the honeymoon's over... On to real life and all that...
I think that some of the overall benefits, the day to day effects, the really concrete stuff that makes our relationship and our family life better comes at the expense of the idealism, the fantasy, the imagination. I'm a pretty sensible girl, i know what is important, and i wouldn't trade the current feeling of closeness and (yes) intimacy that i have with my husband for anything. But i do miss that dark edge, the flip flop in my stomach at times, the sudden quickening of breath, the anticipation of being transported.
For us, the physical things that are peculiar to BDSM, or at least to *our* practice of it, are not used for punishment, or even discipline in a very strict sense. At one time, they would be used to help restore my sense of balance, or maybe adjust a wayward attitude. But lately, that has been accomplished more through words and effort. And I trust him, i don't need to go through daunting physical challenges to learn or to show my trust in him.
Which has left me wondering what role play might have for us at this point. Is it something we will just outgrow? Was my once-upon-a-time intense need for pain a delusion or a passing fancy? And what about the fantasy, the anticipation, the edge? Are those also things that get left by the wayside? Are they part of the honeymoon only? Are they a "less mature" way of expressing ourselves and we should outgrow them? Because i don't really want to give them up, but i do see that their role is not the same as it had been.
I've seen people write about not calling the physical interactions of BDSM "play", the arguement being it is real and serious and not pretend or to be taken lightly. I suppose that i have plenty of real and serious in my life already. My committment and submission to my husband is not perfect, but it is not taken lightly and is certainy not pretend. I can't help but think of our physical expression of that as play. It is all the best things that play is, free, expressive, physical, fun, challenging, exhausting, uplifting, revitalizing...
And i think that, at least right here, right now, play is exactly the right role for it: something to look forward to, a way for us to explore and express ourselves, a way to push each other, a way to realign those subtle shifts of power that get a little off in the day to day, a way to find joy in each other. And the special gift he gave me on this occasion? It has me (very intentionally i'm sure) swinging between anticipation and fear, between the excitiment of a deep rooted fantasy or maybe unexplored kink of mine and wondering if i'm just nuts. It has me a little in awe of him and a little on edge. Thinking about it takes me outside of the day to day and to a place that is just him and me.
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