needles

This is something deeper and less clear to me. It's something that I have always thought was very, very strange about myself, but I never had any context to use to even try to figure it out. But it is certainly there, whether I understand it or want it, or not.

I read every moment I could as a child. I much preferred to be immersed in stories others had created than to sit and daydream. When I did have mental free time (I'm old, this was pre-electronic entertainment), if the option was not there to read something, I did daydream. My reveries were likely not as imaginative as many; most often they were merely extensions of whatever make believe world my current novel had created. Very few of my daydreams related at all to my real world. I never imagined growing up, or getting married, or my wedding day, or any of the triumphs that seemed to be important in the world of that age.

But my mind did wander to needles, often. I would recall getting shots - a common enough occurrence for a child that age, I would dwell on it in my mind, the way a child worries a loose tooth with her tongue: it hurts to push it around, it calms to a dull throb if you stop, but that doesn't feel quite right, so you push and twist to make it a more immediate pain. This was what my mind did with needles. I would dwell on the memory of it, and on the idea of it. And the memory and the imagining seemed to be as much in my flesh as in my mind. I was allowed to get my ears pierced for my 10th b-day and I created that scene and reveled in it in my mind for months beforehand.

Even then, I wonderered that, of all the real world things my mind could choose to dwell on, this seemed to be the only thing it did. I was convinced that this all meant that I should be a nurse or doctor when I grew up. Ironically, I went into a health care field which involves no invasive procedures at all. I never did put it together that, in my daydreams, I was receiving, not giving.

I am reluctant to use the word fantasy about this. I was certainly well younger than puberty when this started. Even as I got older and began to incorporate the sexual into daydreaming, I really don't think I put the two together, certainly not explicitly or that I recognized. In fact, the imagining about needles subsided greatly as I moved through my teens, I had always thought that it was replaced by the typical teen obsession with anything sexual. And it probably was.

I don't know how much pre-pubescent day-dreaming is or is not sexual at its root. I am learning that pain is very intertwined with my sexuality, something I would not have imagined a year ago. Reading about the masochist's experience of play has a very distinct effect on me. But the first time I read about needle play, it was like a kick in the gut. It knocked the wind out of me. Memories came flooding back, memories which suddenly had a context. Of course it also had the the effect of being overwhelmingly arousing, and something maybe more that I can't quite put my finger on.

What BDSM does for me_D (maybe)

I came home from work the other night wanting to crawl out of my skin. Life is crazy - for everyone, I know we don't have a corner on that market. I both got behind and got slammed at work which means that I had to rely on my husband to take care of kid things that I would have done. This had me edgy and sleep deprived. Add in an erratic boss and office politics and I was pretty pissy. I also hadn't managed to run or do much else physical, so my body was as wound up as my brain.

Come bedtime I started antagonizing my husband. He doesn't love (read: tolerate at all) the hyperkinetic, goofy, juvenile, incredibly annoying me I sometimes morph into when I feel this way. I pesterd, and goaded, and pushed his buttons on purpose. Yes - I was really wanting really rough play. I craved, in my mind and in my skin and flesh, for him to physically subdue me and to drive all the hyper out of me. I have always had occasional moods like this, now there is something that I know is a perfect answer for it. But it wasn't possible then, and I knew it wasn't, but was conveniently ignoring that fact. Oh, but it would have been so welcome.

He knew what I wanted too. His response, after ignoring me and then asking me to stop, was a threat to make me sleep elsewhere - not a threat to do any of the things we both knew I was craving anyhow. He did have me do something for him - that helped - it wasn't what I really wanted - but it was what he wanted - so it helped - there's a loop to get caught in.

I feel like I should be self disciplined, responsible for my own actions, accountable for what I do and say and how I act. I should be able to do what I need to do to try to keep myself on an even keel: not get behind so I don't stress as much, run or other exercise. And I should do what I need to not take out my mood on those around me. I certainly don't always succeed, in fact I am an open book and there is really never any doubt as to the kind of mood I'm in, but there is no excuse for me to take it out on my family.

Of course there is the issue of it not really being a punishment if it's what I'm craving anyhow. Let's assume we'll call a spade a spade and that there is "stuff" that I want and other things that are really not what I want. The other night, whether you call it a punishment or just good hard play, it would have set me to rights. I could easily come to rely on that. But should managing my moods be my husband's responsibility? He absolutely knows me and my moods well, knows how to respond, what he can do to help, and more importantly what I can and should do to take care of myself. So why would it be right for me to shirk that and put the onus on him to intervene and set me straight?

Or is this part of what one submits also? Is it a deeper level of submission that I'm not seeing or reaching to turn over this part of myself - to "let" him have some kind of control of and responsibility for my moods? Is this something I do as part of his taking care of me? The particular form that submission is taking for me is far different than I had imagined, so maybe there is a way that this somehow fits in.

I think I have an idea about what he believes. I feel pretty certain that he wants me to push myself and manage myself, to practice being my best self.

The "S" word again.

For some reason, in my mind the relationship sorts of aspects of ttwd or D/s or what have you are very separate from the sexual aspects. For us this started with sex, it started with me submitting that aspect of myself to him. As we started learning about it all, I guess we saw some potential for the same ideas in our relationship as well. The changes in the dynamic of our marriage have not been as extreme, but I think that part is evolving more, and more quickly. The improvments in our relationship have been no less wonderful than those in our sex life. I have no doubt in my mind that those improvements are due to the focus on each individually; our relationship is stronger because we have paid attention to it, tweaked it, worked on it, and our sex life is better because of the pretty much wholesale change.



I also know, however, that these two are not really as mutually exclusive in reality as they are in my mind. My submitting to him in the actions of what we do in bed could only really go so far if I weren't also committed to truly being honest with him about my thoughts and feelings. Likewise, it would hit a ceiling if he didn't feel confident and right to ask, and to expect honest answers. It works the other way also, the closeness, the intimacy, the all around good feelings bleed over into the rest of our relationship and our lives as well.



I tend to write here mostly about our relationship; I think that this is where I have the most questions. Certainly this is where I have learned more about myself and about my husband, through the differences in how we relate to each other, and through the work it takes getting here. I imagine this is where we will both continue to grow, individually and together. But the sex is part of the journey as well - for us in any case. I have written before about my hesitancy to talk or write about sex in general. A lot of people do it very well, but among other things, I am afraid of sounding more juvenile or mechanical than being able to convey my real feelings about it. There have been some things though, about our sex life or about my thoughts and feelings, that I have started to want to write about, some rather silly and some I'm not really sure what to make of them. So I think there will occasionally be posts here that are a little bit of a departure for me, and pushing my comfort level as well.



For today, I will cop out just a little. This comes under the heading of "Duh!"

When we first started, I realized very quickly that I loved him being in control. His moving me, directing me, doing to me, was all sooooo much better than the other way. I had no desire to go back to 50/50, or me having veto power, or us sharing the decision making functions so to speak. In fact it distressed me a little to think about going back. I couldn't grasp how he could possibly be enjoying this arrangement, since, from my perspective, his role was no fun and would be a big turn-off for me.

I couldn't understand how he would want to always be the one doing the work, leading - what if he wanted to lie back and just relax, enjoy, not have to make plans, think about it, lead... ? I was very worried he would tire of carrying the load by himself and I really, really didn't want to go back. So I asked him - what if there is something you want me to do to you? "Well - then - I would just tell you to do it." -What if you don't want to have to think about it ? - what if you want to be surprised, just totally sit back and have me do the work? - "Then I would tell you to do that." ..............Oh?!?

In-side-outside-up-side-down

That was the name of a book our kids loved - a very long time ago. But it is also my emotional state, my thought processes, and my understanding of this whole thing at the moment. Since everything is now turned on it's ear, this all may not make any sense, and I'm pretty sure this isn't the end of it, and I really hope that it will evolve and clarify. It's also long - I apologize.

I had been feeling restless about where we (my husband and I) were with our relationship. Not bad - but ready and wanting to move forward. I think that must just be what happens to people: as you learn or try something new, as one step becomes incorporated and comfortable, there is an internal urge to try the next. But I had no idea whatsoever what that would mean or entail in a practical sense.

My husband is not interested in playing the manager for my life. There is no formal list of rules or chores or have-to's or don't-you-dare's. There is a long history of us living together, so I know some of his preferences, and we both know what needs to happen to keep the family and household running, and we coordinate to work out who can and should do what, when. In fact though, I feel like I don't know a lot of his preferences, like he is reluctant to express or impose his choices on me or on us, and I feel like I must have caused that reluctance over the years. It's a big part of the appeal and the potential for ttwd for me: it offers a way for me to step back and show him that I want to hear him. I had the notion that the way to move forward must be for him to exert more control over my day to day life, to somehow make it harder.

Patience not being one of my virtues, I decided to try something. I made a list of the things I think are important to him, about me: things he has hinted he would like me to do or change or pay attention to. The list had things like following through with my job search leads, exercising more, keeping things more under control with the kids and the house, and being more focused and organized so I don't end up panicking to get big things done last minute. My hope was that commenting on a list I generated would be easier for him than just telling me what he wanted of me.

He came back with a list of his own, a much shorter list, but a list of how he want's me to be. It had three points, and they boiled down to he wants me to be happy. He wants me to feel okay to really pursue all the oppurtunities that are now available in my career, he wants me to "stop sweating the small stuff" so I don't get so stressed about day to day to things, and he wants me to make time to do things for myself, things i really enjoy. My initial reaction was - good I can make lists of things I can do to work towards these goals - and that will make my husband happy. But as I really thought about it, it dawned on me that I would need to change fundamentally the way I work and react and even feel.

This part should probably be a whole other story - but since I don't know why it is what it is, I can't really write that story. The essence though is that I get deeply distressed having things done for me or things being about me. I am happy to be the one working to do things for others, to take care of others, to see to their needs. It is the way I want the relationship to flow. I can politely tolerate letting people do something for me, like haircuts or service at a restaraunt. I can, with effort, be gracious if a group is doing something in my honour; birthdays are tolerable, my wedding day was awfully difficult.

As the idea of having my husband focus his effort and attention on taking care of me began to sink in, I became more and more distressed. This was supposed to be about me doing more for him, it was supposed to shift the focus further off of me. I'm not even at all sure how to go about accepting or accomplishing this. The in-side-outside-up-side-down part is that this is far harder for me to submit to than just about anything else would have been. I know I have some serious challenges ahead.

The Irony of it all is that it should be easy for me to let him focus on me, to let myself be taken care of. Isn't that what most women want? Yet it is, short of him being sick or no longer in my life, the very hardest thing for me to face. To make him happy, I have to figure out how to let him make me happy, which at this point makes me unhappy, which isn't going to make him happy, which makes me unhappy also. Furthermore, I think it should be easy for him to want things for himself; I'm offering him really whatever he wants- but what he chooses is to take care of me. It's not just in-side-outside-up-side-down, it's also backwards.

What's in a name?

Clearly my parents didn't sit together, look back through their family histories, make a few lists, negotiate a bit, then decide that "greengirl" would be just the name for their firstborn child. It's a bit goofy as pseudonyms go, but it is quite apt for me on a number of levels, including at times the goofiness. Up to now my husband has simply been "my husband" when referred to herein. Other bloggers have very creative names for their spouses, SO's, partners, ...... So I have been thinking very hard to try to come up with a moniker for my beloved. I have rejected the suggestion of anything green for him (greenman, greengiant), and "he who has yet to be named" takes way too long to type. The thinking about a nickname for him led me to think about what the overall impression of him is in my mind; no small thing after this many years together. So, here are some of the possibilities I explored:

dominus - latin [master of a house , lord, master]. Transf., [husband or lover; a master, owner, possessor; employer; ruler, lord, controller].
This covers a lot of bases, most of which fit pretty well, it sounds strong and no-nonsense, but it doesn't really sound like a name.


ara -ae f. [altar]; hence [refuge , protection]; 'arae', plur., [name of certain rocks at sea].
I liked the connotations of this one. He is my rock, my refuge and protector. And he may be more than pleased to think of himself as the alter at which I worship. This one does sound like a name too, but it's too vowel-y a name. My husband is more of a consonant-y kind of guy. Besides - if you look it up it means a lot of other things in other languages; it's a Phillipina name meaning "beautiful eyelashes." So I just don't think it will work.


I tried a number of other single words (husband, lover, friend, guide, man) in other languages; he is true blue Heinz 57, but a good bit German and his family name is Scottish so those were on the list. Nothing that I could spell or pronounce easily made itself apparent.

Then there are the obvious: stud, big dog, lover-boy...... Yea, I just can't see myself typing any of those in any seriousness.

I even turned to literature. The frontrunner there was Petruchio, he who tamed the shrew. He had the completely recalcitrant, headstrong, utterly defiant Katherine eating out of his hand by Act V. Just picture Denzel Washington uttering these lines:
I will be master of what is mine own.
She is my goods, my chattels, she is my house,
My household stuff, my field, my barn,
My horse, my ox, my ass, my any thing.
It's quite an image. And along the way his methods would make most Dom's proud, objectification, humiliation, sleep deprivation....But, in the end, Petruchio's motives were suspect, actually they were pretty out in the open, he wanted the money. My husband's motives are all much more noble. I also think I might just be unable to keep a straight face thinking of him as "Petruchio."

When I try to capture an image to sum him up in my mind, he is so many things. He is my rock, my lover, sometimes the object of my worship, the one who tamed me, but also the one who pushes me, my friend. In a word, he is my husband. So, as unimaginative as it is, that word has come to mean so much to me that I think I will keep it.

Why do we, why do I?

This wondering I think doesn't really have an answer. Or maybe it has a number of truths, rather than just one. Mouse used an analogy in one post in which she compared her progress into her slavery to climbing a mountain. Her master guides and encourages and sometimes may even push a little for her to move onward and upward, but she still has to do the climbing herself. I loved this imagery. Really - no one else can do anything for us or make us do anything that doesn't come from within ourselves. Like the mountain guide, others can motivate, instruct, facilitate, demonstrate, act the sherpa, and even cheer-lead. But, the climber must climb.

So what I wonder is, "Why do people choose to climb mountains?" metaphorically speaking of course. Specifically in my case, or our case, what is the drive to want to take a marriage to the next level. Things were by no means headed for disaster, neither of us needed saving, we couldn't even say there were particularly rough patches recently. Of course it could be better, no one is perfect, nor is any dynamic between two imperfect people.

There is the question, "Why this way?" I think that has to do with the stars aligning to present the ideas at a time when we were ready for them. I also think some things about this way fit both of us fairly well, or at least intrigue us enough to give it a go.

But the more basic question is still: Why did we, and why do we still want take apart and re-assemble something that wasn't broken? Why put in effort to something that was ok to begin with? Why climb this particular mountain?

When asked, people claim to climb mountains, "Because they are there," or, "Because they can." That seems an over simplistic answer in this case. When I started pondering this, the answer that came to mind first was that I love my husband. But that's a fact, not a why. Part of it does indeed have to do with the fact that I want to make things better, more enjoyable, more fulfilling for him. Frankly - he has always treated me extremely well, in a lot of large and small ways, some to take care of me, some to push me. I think after I started all this - I realized that I didn't always act the same way towards him. Maybe part of it is selfish; there is no way to deny that the changes have made life more peaceful, that I haven't loved feeling more connected and close to him, and that a lot of the other perks aren't, well, just plain good. But these realizations and rewards didn't come till after we had started down the path.

I know that humans have a drive to accomplish, excel, do better, to move onward and upward. I wonder if this is an example of that; albeit a more complex example that involves not just two individuals, but the interaction of the two as well?

Silly Fish Thoughts

I was talking with a friend recently about some different things I had been thinking. He told me I need a fish tank - whether he meant that I need one to distract me so I stop thinking so many silly things, or to focus my mind to (hopefully) improve the quality of my thinking, I'm not really sure. We do have a small tank with two goldfish. I've found that they don't really either distract me or improve my mental processes, but maybe that's my fault and not the fishes'. This past weekend was a busy one and not filled with deep thinking at all, but I did wonder two random things.

[I'm still working on a name for my husband -he's being no help with that. In fact, he told me that if he liked what I end up choosing, he will reward me, and if he doesn't like it, well... I guess he'll reward himself. But this isn't one of the random things. ]

Anyhow - he who is yet to be named was teasing me about something and I told him he couldn't do "that." He informed me that he could in fact do whatever he pleased. I replied that this was true, but only until I rescind my consent. He proceeded to tell me that I can't rescind anything unless he tells me I can. Now, this was all joking, and laughing, and having fun - we tend to do that a lot, it's sort of our style. But so far I really like all the things he does to me, and I like the changes in our relationship. Even the tougher expectations are things I know in my heart are the better way.

But it did make me think about the whole paradox: I give consent for him to do whatever, whenever, however - or something like that. But I can in fact take back that consent. So, the cold hard reality is that I am ultimately in charge by virtue of veto power; if nothing else, I can veto with my feet. But I don't actually feel that at all. It's like marriage I suppose. Many people take the wedding vow as binding only up to a point, that point being the one at which they no longer care to remain married. I very much believe that taking the forever part seriously is what often keeps people from giving up. Of course, there are instances in which staying with someone is the wrong decision, in any sort of relationship, with any sort of arrangement. Period. But for the rest, having the commitment to fall back on when there is nothing else to fall back on, is indeed something. I have to believe that the same principle applies with this thing we are doing (whatever you want to call it because I have no idea.) I have committed to what we are doing and, joking aside, I feel very deeply that backing out of my end of the deal is NOT an option, despite the quite obvious fact that the option to walk away is absolutely a reality. Further, the premise that I am not the one making the decisions anyhow is sort of the lynchpin of the whole thing. I'm not sure how my brain manages the gymnastics to reconcile this; although, I am the first to admit that times haven't gotten tough so it remains an untested commitment at this point.

[That went deeper than just random fish thinking I guess. I wonder if the fish are helping or making things worse?]


Oops -
Last night before we fell asleep we were talking in bed about silly stuff. We were both naked and quite intertwined. His hands were roaming, as they usually do. Except this time I was focused enough on what he was saying that I didn't notice the direction of the roaming. Apparently I missed something. After a few minutes he rolled over and said good night. I was so confused. He told me that I had not responded to him, I had ignored him, and that was that. I'm not proud: I apologized, explained that I just didn't notice, I hadn't refused - not at all; I even pleaded, I won't say I begged - but I certainly pleaded. But no go. It occurred to me that this was the first time in a very long time that I had (albeit unintentionally) turned him down. This left me with some unpleasant feelings and memories of feelings. This I'm not going to spend any further time thinking about though, I will just make sure to pay attention from now on.