Friday, April 27, 2012

Who knew?!?

The past couple months have been a struggle for me.  Growing pains i guess, or learning pains, or - "i'm dense and don't catch on very quickly" pains.  

To sum up: 
   my husband has no intention of forcing me into anything
   he will wait for me to come to him, his way
   this sometimes makes me feel as if he is uninterested, un-invested, lazy, or just 
      doesn't care
    once i get over myself and come to him.......
    once i submit...........
    everything is better - we both feel better, work better, relate better, have 
        fun better, D and s better

But -  as much as i often wish it could be true, my whole life isn't just Him and me, naked and exploring the D and the s (and the B, and the other D and other S, and the M, mmm hmmmm.....)

In my overall existence - the past 4 days have seemed about 3 weeks long.  And it looks like that temporal distortion will continue awhile.
So the fact that things are more stable and flowing with us - is a very, very good thing.  

For one thing, it allows me to turn my focus to other things - like life and work and kids and plans and work.  Not that i don't function all the time, but i function better on those other fronts when i'm not pre-occupied or discouraged or worried about us.  Which is as it should be.  It is part of the point of the whole thing.  He wants me to do better than just function in all the aspects of my life, our life.  And he wants to be part of making that be so.  

But -  the good,flowing, balanced times always mean less blogging:  1 - i have less to write about - i have no great angst or worries or concerns - so i don't feel a buring need to process out loud, or ask for help; 2 - my life isn't exciting enough for the flat parts to be worth writing about; and 3 - that damn temporal distortion thing leaves so little actual time. 
And speaking of time running out....

Friday, April 20, 2012

Sex Ed

Aisha wrote about and posted a link to this week's Newsweek article about the hubbub surrounding 50 Shades of Gray.  I've not read the book, and i probably won't - if for no other reason than that books that come into the house get noticed by our boys who read like they breath - constantly, reflexively, involuntarily.  Our house is not set up for privacy: computers and the toybox are the only restricted access.  It is challenging to read anything and not have it at least noticed.  Once upon a time we could tell them a book or a movie had "kissing and stuff" in it and that was enough to insure it was left alone.  Those days ended years ago.

These days, we have to be aware of what we bring into the house.  Which is the issue with the Newsweek article.  They read Newsweek.  We've had to have other very difficult discussions about very difficult topics brought up in various news stories - genocide, war, hate crimes, abortion, war crimes...  We try to strike a balance between protecting their innocence and their view of humanity as good, vs. a 'stick your head in the sand and pretend it's is all rainbows and daisies' view of the world.  I'm not sure my husband or I has the answers to why people do evil things - but we share what we know and what we believe and we tell them how we hope they will come to engage with the world.

We've even discussed our views and our values around reproductive rights and homosexuality and what makes a family.  They know we will accept and love them, what ever they come to discover about their sexuality.  Except that's not true for every aspect of sexuality; we've talked about same sex relationships and our views vs. the  views of much of the world.  We haven't talked about kink, at all.  And I'm not at all sure how we would or if i think we should.

I grew up with my parents living their sex life out in the open, way, way out in the open. Nudity was the norm and I (we - all of the kids) saw the touching and the groping and the doing, as well as the forcing and the fighting and the manipulation and the hurting each other.  My husband grew up in a house in which he believed his parents were asexual or at least celibate so reserved and private were they about modesty and affection, much less sex.

I've been a teenage girl.  My view of sex was likely quite skewed, but i know generally how young, teenaged girls think and feel about it.  I have no idea about boys.  Yes - i'm a mom and still have eyes on the back of my head - but the workings of the adolescent male brain are a giant black hole to me. My sense is that, for them, sex is a mystery, an obsession, a driving force, a frustration, and maybe something that controls them more than they control it.  Obviously, I hope that last one isn't true, but, like i said, a giant black hole.

Our overarching theme so far in discussing any aspects of sex with our boys has been respect: respect for themselves, respect for their partners, insisting they are respected by others, respect for other people when it comes to joking or teasing about sex (because there will be joking and teasing about sex).  And i wonder if it is possible to explain kink at all in a way that lets them see the respect.  I wonder if their young, inexperienced, hormone addled, not-fully-developed-by-a-long-shot brains, could grasp what so many adults can't: that what appears hurtful or disrespectful or even wrong may be loving and good and right - in the right context.

We try to strike what we think is a healthy balance - all parents do - right?  We demonstrate affection, we want them to know that bodies are beautiful and not sinful, but that all people have the right to privacy.  They know that we have (gasp!) sex, but they also know that is something between just the two of us.  Of course we have no intention of making the details of our sex life explicit to them, not the vanilla aspects, nor the kinky ones.  

I know that they are and will be exposed to ideas from all over - not just in our home.  I know that many of those ideas and images will be far more dangerous than this.  And i know that boys all over the world grow up and sort out all the seeds of ideas that got dropped into the hormonal stew of their adolescence.  And - I have until they get home from school today to decide if i will leave this issue of Newsweek in the pile with the rest of the mail, or if i will tuck it away for my husband to take with him next week when he travels.

Monday, April 16, 2012

please talk to me

This is also from the files of, "His Way - Not Mine."

He doesn't talk to me during beatings.

[I know "beatings" is an uncomfortable term for it.  Sometimes he calls it play, but that's broader, with a different intent. Sometimes it really is just a lot of impact and pain.  We understand each other - when he talks about a beating - it's something i need, sometimes have asked for, most certainly have consented to.]

But he doesn't talk to me when it's this.  This is never a punishment, but is often a re-set, an adjustment, an opportunity for him to push and me to submit more deeply.  He commands or corrects, sometimes encourages if it's particularly difficult, but there is no commentary or explanation.

Most recently he was using canes (but just one at a time).  He doesn't typically do a few really, really hard strokes.  He goes on for a long time - some strokes are very, very hard, but most are just below what i think i can take.  I don't float away with the canes.  Often i end up angry, frantic, and not handling it before i eventually settle down.  On a good day i can stay on top of it with a lot of work and some tears.  

This day i was fighting to stay on top of it.  I could feel myself getting angry.  Often i have a good idea of what he wants it to be about, what he wants my focus to be.  But this time i didn't.  This was harder and longer and didn't feel like what i thought he wanted it to be about.  It started to feel like a punishment, which made me angry and confused.

As the anger threatened to throw me off the edge and out of control, i asked him to talk to me.  I hoped he would explain what he was looking for, or let me know what i had done that he wanted me to change, or why he was angry, what i should be sorry for.....

His response was to describe what he was seeing: the sunlight filtering in and the patches of light and shadow over his view, me lying open in front of him, how much he loved the colors - the white of my ass, the contrast of the brown where i'm tan, the dusky red where most of the blows had landed, and the stripes where only a few harder ones had.  He talked about wanting a picture, but opting to just keep this memory.

All of this sweetness while still bringing the cane down again and again, at this point with both a fierce burning and that deep bruising pain.  I was completely taken aback.  I expected a lecture, or an expression of disappointment.  I wanted to tell him he was doing it wrong - he wasn't supposed to be loving with this kind of pain.  But i also remembered he has always, always said that he will not use any of this for punishment, and he will not do any of it while he is angry.  I should have known that more deeply.

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Submitting to the reality

The hard parts about this thing are not at all what i imagined they would be.  Or at least, at this stage they aren't.

The hard part for me right now is doing it all his way.  Yes - you could reasonably accuse me of being a little slow at catching on to the whole point of the whole thing.  Nevertheless....

He has in mind how he intends to do things, how he intends to be, what he will or won't do, etc...  Oddly though - he hasn't shared the playbook with me.  He expects me to pick it up as i go along - by - you know - listening and following and paying attention.

And i keep getting caught out guessing and assuming, and doing things my way.

For example...
I often do want him to overpower me, conquer me,  make me stop whatever i'm doing, or force me to do whatever i'm supposed to, or just generally save me from myself.

There are many moments in which i can imagine how lovely it would be to have him sweep in, set me to rights some very strict way, wrap me all up in His dominance, and then set me back on my feet to go off to face the world again.  In fact, i can imagine getting used to having that done for me several times a day.

But he never does.  At least not the way i expect, the way i think i want, ok - the way i think he should...

Instead, he sits quietly (figuratively or literally) and waits.  He waits patiently, but it's not a warm, fuzzy patience; it's a rather chilly, stern patience.  He makes it clear what he wants, then just ignores my silly carrying on.  I know, and he knows, that i will come around.  I will stop and turn to him the way he wants - eventually.

Later, after I've come to him the way he wanted me to, he makes it clear that he didn't appreciate the carrying on and feet dragging.  He is very good at demonstrating his disappointment in ways that are crystal clear, yet could not be mis-construed as the type of punishment or show of force i was hoping for in the first place.   And - really - next time around, i don't bother with the game.

Often, this happens over small things, and is fairly lighthearted.  Big things i seem to have enough sense not to push on this way.  But, sometimes the seemingly trivial things are only that on the surface.  Sometimes there is an awful lot of meaning and sub-context.  Sometimes it feels as if the weight of our entire relationship is wrapped up in one insubstantial exchange.  In some ways, it is:  i'm testing him, i know this as i'm doing it, i'm trying to prod him into responding the way i want him to, and he is making his wishes quite clear.  

In that moment, it feels for all the world as if it just doesn't matter whether i listen to him or not, like he isn't at all interested in what i do or don't do, and just doesn't care enough to make me do what he wants.   Clearly, I'm not too bright 'in the moment'.  It's not about him making me do things, it's about me submitting to him. And, oddly enough, every time i finally do just that -  everything falls back into place and feels right again.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012


I like to think i'm not vain about my appearance.  I like to think of myself as so very *not* high maintenance. Mostly though - that's a defense i've developed over years of believing that there really just wasn't any point to that kind of vanity for me.  Looks were not my gift when the gifts were being doled out.  There isn't much that can be done about it - so why fight it.

My husband is either a very unique man or a very, very good liar.  He insists he thinks i'm beautiful, he says he doesn't want high maintenance, he thinks i'm wrong about myself.  I stopped arguing, we maybe agree to disagree. I believe he sees what he says, i just don't see it.

Yesterday that came crashing in on itself.

I have a small something on my lip - no one know's what it is - so it has to come off.  And it will leave a scar.  My skin scars, badly.  And for some reason, this has me completely crushed.  I am upset all out of proportion and can't even talk about it with him.  He's at a loss and has no idea what to say.  

I have plenty of other blemishes and imperfections: my skin is hardly milky or porcelain.  If it were going to be a flaw on something flawless - I would understand being upset.  As it is, it will just fit right in.  I know damn well that this is s stupid thing to be upset about at all. My health isn't threatened and it's really a very small thing.

I don't understand my response to this and i don't really care for it - it does make me feel vain and i really thought i could do without that.

Saturday, April 7, 2012

D/s and love - for me

I've been reluctant to write this post - but the feelings and the conclusions have become increasingly important for me...

I know that other people have needed to make different choices, are in different situations than I am.  There are appropriate places in the world for judging and disapproving of other's decisions - this realm isn't one of them for me.  Nuff said.

I love my husband and i know deeply that he loves me.  The issues we had in our marriage had more to do with me than him.  They had to do with me and my lack of wanting sex, and all the ramifications to the rest of our lives from my rejections and lack of intimacy between us. You know what?  D/s fixed that.  I'm sure there's more too it - if i wanted to dig.  But let's call it a style issue - vanilla was not my style.  It just didn't work.

The intimacy and the connection and, let's be honest - the giving over of power - is lovely: it's heady, and arousing, and centering, and thrilling, and insanely addictive.  And the lines that separated sex from the rest of our relationship have been obliterated.  Maybe they never really existed.   It's all part of the same thing.

I think love - we have figured out.  We don't always have our mutual expressions of it perfected, and God know's we misunderstand each other often enough.  But we know, we KNOW that the love is there underneath everything else.  That's huge when it comes to facing the inevitable (or even the selfish but avoidable) issues.  We can let go and feel the hurt and the despair and the anger and whatever other ugly feelings because we know that our foundation is safe and solid.

We didn't fall in love at first sight, lust maybe and infatuation, but not love.  Certainly it took time for the love to solidify and grow.  And we had to and are still learning the mechanics of having our relationship; what adds to the love, what challenges it, how to build each other up, how not to sabotage each other....

I'm not sure how to say d/s fits into all this.  Is it like love?  Is it really something that can grow to be so assumed and ingrained that i could let go and rebel and doubt and kick at it, precisely because i know it is solid enough to withstand my attack?  I don't trust it that much right now - which is really to say - I don't trust him that much.  And that's a problem.

I flip flop.  Sometimes I think that D/s is something we overlaid onto our marriage, something substantial, but still not innate to our relationship.  Something almost pretend - like first moving in together feels a little like "playing house," like life with the first baby feels unreal and alien, like if it doesn't work, we could just take it off and go on without it.

Other times i see that the essence was always part of us - just not expressed because we didn't understand.
We had to learn how to live together - we weren't just playing house.  We had to learn to be parents because the baby was real, was ours, and was staying.  We haven't perfected the realities of D/s either.

I imagine this whole post has not much meaning for anyone else.  But for me - i need to stop flip flopping.  I need to stop seeing it as something i can step out of.  We are long past thinking we are playing house and the kids are closer to moving out than just arrived.   If i can't take it off or quit playing - then i need to figure out how to really make it work.

Monday, April 2, 2012


We had a wonderful vacation - lots of sunshine, lots of family time - actually - in a 500 sq foot condo - close family time.

Coming back has been odd - and trying to come back to this blog has been as well.

I talk a lot here - and - by necessity - i talk abut me.

I feel like i need to stop for a while and listen.

I think i need to be quiet for awhile.