the good, the bad, and the ugly

Of blogging, and of the way my mind works.....

Three of other peoples' posts have come together for me this past week: lil's post on emotional masochism here, mouse's post on surrender here, and Sir J's post on mindset here.

I find all three to be beautiful and profound descriptions of their respective dynamics.  They explain the depth and the love that actually exist in this lifestyle.  And they speak to the hard work and the integrity of all of the people involved in each of those relationships (blogger and partner).  That's the good.

The bad and the ugly are that i sometimes find i read these sorts of posts as indictments of myself rather than celebrations of the writers.  I read through a lens of "what am i doing wrong, why am i not able to be that way, act that way, have that mindset of gratitude and of putting him first."

And that is what it comes back to.  I can't always, don't always put him first in my thoughts and feelings. And then there is a noisy little corner of my mind that says, "If he wanted that, he should make it happen."  Then the real, intelligent part of my mind hushes that corner.

But the reality is, I don't know where he wants my head to be.  Maybe it is already where he wants it, or is on the way there.  Maybe that is the point - i should be attuned to what he does, wants, says - not to what i think he wants or ought to have.

grateful

I have fb friends who post their feelings - any and all of them -  all. the. time.  I'm much more of a fb reader than writer; i'm not even so comfortable talking about the things i do, big, small, good, bad, indifferent....  It just isn't me.

I can't imagine posting my feelings to the public like that.  I know - somehow putting my relationship and sexual kinks down on paper here is no problem - I truly don't understand it either.

One friend in particular uses the tag "grateful"  a lot, to her friends, her family, her God, her husband...  I think about that. Her posts strike me as silly and sometimes a little desperate, and sometimes a little self-righteous.  I know her though - and she is none of those things.  She is genuine, compassionate, passionate, and humble.

The problem is with me.  Whatever it is that makes me uncomfortable, that blocks me from expressing more publicly the gratitude that i feel deeply, well - it's not good, or right.

Hence....

I am incredibly grateful for my husband.   For his integrity and character, his work and his dedication to us, his family. For his compassion.  For his thoughtfulness and selflessness.  For his depth.

And i am incredibly grateful to my husband. Thank you for being open, thank you for being willing to take risks and thank you for holding the lines you hold.  Thank you for taking care of me, and for taking care of us.  Thank you for being the example and for holding the expectations our boys need.  Thank you for listening and considering and thank you for making decisions. Thank you for taking it all seriously, thank you for laughing and smiling.  Thank you for the joy.

A moment

There was a moment last week...

We had a rare piece of time alone together.  And he was - quieter, more focused, hungry, intense...

There's not usually a lot of talking, but this time there was none - he pushed and pulled and swatted me around.  He moved quickly and changed directions often.  He went through things, from start to full on, in a blink.  He was harder - he hit harder, he pulled and twisted harder.  He bit - harder, unexpectedly.

I couldn't really catch up.  I was very on edge.  There was some fear, and the awareness that i was just this side of panic.  I would not be drifting off to la la land.  I would be very, very focused on him, his movements, his wishes, his wants.  And focused on keeping myself on the right side of panic, on keeping-up enough.

And that edge, for me, amplifies the pain, or keeps me from transmuting it (yes - probably not a word, but I bet you know what i mean).

During one of the brief stops, to switch things up, i was kneeling - in position, but a little bit cowery, a little bit quivery, a little drawn in and closed off, back hunched, head up, waiting and looking   In the right position - sort of - but not truly.

I remember having the thought that it's a very difficult position in which to feel drawn in and closed off.  And something flipped.  I calmed, i breathed, i straightened where i was meant to be straight, and relaxed where i was meant to be relaxed.  I felt my shoulders pull back, and my head bow.

I know, i knew all along, that i never have anything to truly fear.  But there are times that the way he wants to go is difficult for me to keep up with.  That is part of what he wants in those moments.

Something about that flip in my head allowed me to be open to that.  It didn't change his approach - I still had to really work to keep up - but it was like the difference between trying to do something difficult while holding your breath or gasping for air instead of breathing slowly and deeply.

reconciling the contradictions

• I think we probably all run into the points where our personal choices run counter to societies' dictates.  But there are also a lot of points where my personal choices run counter to what i believe is right in general.  I know that it all comes back to consent.  And i'm not struggling with the right or wrong of my choices in these cases; i deeply believe that we are treating each other with more love and respect than ever before.

  
  

  It's more a matter of - I noticed that my responses to these particular items were not what they would have been once.  Where i now think "ooh, yea, love that," or have a secret little blush and flush of remembrance or longing, i need to remember that those same things are reviled precisely because they are so often imposed without consent.  

  
  

  
  

  

  
  

  
  

  This is in fact how i would like the world to be - no - that's not strong enough - this is absolutely  how it ought to work, end of discussion.  This is what i want my boys to understand as the only right way. 

  
  

  Except for me - in my marriage (and other people in their relationships, if that's what they've freely chosen).  Giving him my "no" once and for all was absolutely the right thing for me.  His taking it from me has been the best for both of us.  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  If you don't want to watch the whole thing (or any of it), it plays off the pretty much universally accepted abhorrence of deviant sexual behavior.  This is a tame version, created for "real people" because real people don't condone these kinds of things and may not even believe they actually exist, or think thye are relegated to sickos (or infamous historical figures).  This one especially plays up the idea of being pissed on for the repulsion/outrage/comedy effect. 

  
  

  Except - When he takes me to the shower and puts me on my knees, I'm immediately transformed.  I need this, I welcome this.  This brings me back to him, strengthens my desire to follow him, and re-connects and re-aligns us both.  I am truly grateful when he does this.  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

i can only try

Yoda's wisdom aside - there are things i can't yet do, i can only try.


The past few months or weeks, this past week or two especially - have been - i don't know what - I've been down more, or up and down more would be more accurate.  Sometimes i think i can see what's behind it, sometimes it just hits out of the blue - i will be quite down for no reason i can put my finger on.

This is unusual for me, different from the usual cycles life seems to have....

I hadn't stopped to look at the big picture of it until this past weekend.

I guess it hit a tipping point for my husband - he confronted me about it.  He pointed out what he has seen and felt from me.   He was and is very (understandably) distressed.

I don't know what is behind this, but I think i see some things that may be contributing, changes i can make that i think may help, changes we have already started and which he is guiding and holding me to.

Being confronted with this and the long process of talking through it was an uncomfortable really horrible discussion for me.  And as part of it all, he asked me a question I couldn't answer, "Will you let me help you?"

That question sounds simple, sounds lovely and loving, and sounds like it should be an easy answer.  In the context though, he meant, "Will you be completely open to me?  Will you let me decide what you need to address this?  Will you give me the control and work with me on my terms?"

And i realized i couldn't honestly say yes.

I remember several years ago there being some long back and forth discussions on blogs about ceding control vs. remaining responsible for one's own health and safety, physical and mental.  I remember recognizing at the time that i didn't have the experience to really understand the questions first hand.  The questions are important, from a lot of angles.

I do have more experience now, i have some context and perspective.  I have been able to turn over a  great deal of control, and it has been both far more complicated and also simpler than i ever imagined.

But in being open, in being honest with him, I have to say that just approaching the thought of letting go of the control of my mental health causes an immediate surge of fear and rebellion and turning away.  There is a very clear image in my head of doors closing, locks locking, and a perimeter being secured.

This makes me sad - we've come a long way, i've come a long way, i've been able to open up, turn over to him, and submit in so many ways.  But this response is counter to all of that.

The conventional wisdom seems to go that submissives retain control because they can say no at any time, while slaves have agreed to never say no, they turn over everything at one time.  The implication being that they are ABLE to turn over control of every part of themselves.  I am not able to.

I've struggled a great deal with that construct - not the terms - I don't care what I'm called - but with the idea that the only possibilities are my retaining all the real power vs. my turning over any and everything.  I have in fact agreed to turn over any and everything to him - and in theory, in desire, in intention - i do.  I don't want to retain the power, i want to turn it over to him.  It is in the reality of actually being able to do so that i wonder how it works, that i think the construct doesn't take into account being human, or at least, my humanity.

I can give him behaviors - do or not do what he wants, but even that, only within the limits of my physical capability.  Thoughts and attitudes and feelings - I have worked to alter where he wants me to, but that takes time and my effort, it's not an automatic, "He says - I comply."

Letting him into my head  at the level he is asking is light years beyond that for me in difficulty.  I want to comply - i want to be able to comply - but i will have to work to be able to turn that piece over.

Cars

My 16 year old very boring but very reliable car is soon to be passed on to my (not so boring and perhaps not so reliable) 16 yr old son.  It's showing its age (the car).  It runs but really ought to be used more locally (read - walking distance if it absolutely came to it) rather than all the places I need to go.

So i have to pick out it's replacement....

I am a function over form kinda person - or - really, i believe form should follow function.  I don't care a whit about fancy, shiny, bedazzled, pedigree, or otherwise, when it comes to cars, although there are some i find just silly or ugly - so i guess i care a little.

I do have a list of criteria i would like the car to meet:
    4 doors
    I (at 5'1") have to be able to comfortably reach the steering wheel and pedals, and see over the dash
         - simultaneously
    somewhere over ~ 89 mpg
    a hatchback seems most practical, or a very small station wagon
    able to withstand potential crunching in an accident like a tank
    with preferably all wheel drive
    but really really good mileage
    as reliable and long-lived as my last one
    small and zippy (I drive mostly urban)
    but has to be heavy enough get up several wicked hills in the really sloppy snow we have all winter
    a hybrid (did i mention > 89 mpg),
    but a standard shift - it's just more fun that way
    cheap - as in, i really don't actually want to spend money on it
    with bluetooth, and a nice radio, and leather seats
    and, and, and...........

What do you mean i can't get all that.  I don't understand?  Impossible?  Some of those wishes are the opposite of others?  And one car can't be all those things at once?

I wonder if that ever happens with people?

bedtime and glad hearts

Bedtime ritual here involves me standing naked beside the bed asking him (already in bed) if i may join him.

We keep our house on the chilly side, and since our bedroom is over the garage, it hovers around 56 all winter.  In all fairness, the reason he is in bed first is because he warms the sheets on my side of the bed, then i get into a not-so-shockingly-cold bed.

That is indeed very sweet of him to do, especially because once i get in, he has to scoot over to his still-very-cold side of the bed.

But back to me standing naked by my side of the bed asking permission to get in.....

When i am exhausted and sleepy and it has been a long day, i really, really want to be in bed.  I can feel the warmth, i can feel myself melting up against him, my body and my mind letting go and allowing sleep to carry me off.  Oh how i want it.

And, when i am so tired, I have less than usual cold tolerance - remember i'm standing there naked.

So i stand and wait permission (usually permission is granted after some talking, or groping, or tweaking, or testing of some sort).  So i stand there and try not to bat his hands away, roll my eyes, whine or complain, or point out how unfair and utterly stupid this whole thing is.

Not a glad heart sort of arrangement at all.

And i'm not sure it will ever be - at least not in the winter.

Feeling His

HIS

I know i am His.  I believe i am His.  I think a lot about what it means to be His - most likely i think about it way too much.  Sometimes, more often as time goes on, i feel HIS,  and that is new for me.

I'm not great at feeling.  Feelings most often get translated into thoughts pretty automatically.  And ironically - to put the feelings into words here - or elsewhere - i have to go through thoughts and i lose a lot on the way.

So I've tried recently to pay attention to my feelings and to - i don't know - allow them, really experience them, remember them...   Especially my feelings about Him and about being His.

Turns out - it has a lot of flavors.

Largely, feeling His is very much tied to that submissive feeling for me.

Yesterday started with a surprise correction (because he doesn't do punishments) - it was a reminder that he actually does mean for me to follow the rules he has set.  I didn't think he had been paying attention or that it would matter.  He was and it did.  And being called on it made me feel childish (for forgetting and for being called out) and a little ashamed, and a little remorseful, and somehow a little more settled and secure and content than i had just before.

Apparently the morning's correction had put Him in a mindset also. When i got home from work, and through the evening, he growled his desires into my ear and reached out to grab or pinch whenever we had a moment alone.  He took several opportunities to make use of me - of my mouth, and especially of my ass.  (That is actually still hard for me to write). As bedtime approached, i had a fair idea of what he would be wanting that night.

Switching gears back and forth from work and kids and dinner to being his playtoy, really just his holes, led to some internal eye rolling -i guess the feeling that goes with that is "whatever".  Not terribly submissive. But i think he knew that and i know he didn't care.  And the feeling of his putting my feelings aside and just continuing with his agenda - that is a priceless feeling for me. That feels submissive, it (oh so very inexplicably) causes warm feelings towards him and a calmer and happier me.

Looking back on the experience that led to my post about rage, it created a lot of very strong feelings - but not at all those i would have expected.  There was and is no fear or trepidation or anxiety.  There is a very new level of feeling His though.

He played with me, he played with me physically - quite roughly, he took me to a place he wanted to go, a place i didn't know existed, he moved me and manipulated me and played around with me, mentally and emotionally.  I was an object, a problem to be solved, something for him to learn about and explore.  Yet "I" was not at all part of it, I was the object, I was not "me" in that experience.  It was an incredibly detached and third person experience for me.

He wanted to learn about me, he wanted to play with me and explore me - all the parts - not just the physical or sexual.   And it feels strangely - fascinating, appealing, good - to think of myself in that way.  I now crave that feeling - the one i really can't capture in words yet.   I want to be that for him - that feels fulfilling, I want to offer him that.  And that's a new flavor of that submissive feeling for me.