Feminism vs Submission

I reached the conclusion very recently that I would be perfectly happy to stay at home. That I want kids with S, and would be content staying home, tending to the house, to the kids and to him. Not only would I be content with this- I actually want it.

This confused me highly-I've always wanted a career, I'm an outspoken, opinionated and stubborn woman and spent years studying law, debating only recently to start studying psychology and become a qualified psychologist. Both good careers, both worthwhile careers. Yet now I want to stay at home?

My childhood wasn't the best. An absent father, a violent mother-I wasn't taught right from wrong, I had to learn those for myself. I wasn't taught what society expected of me, I had to figure that out too. And as I grew up I realized I wanted to branch out, to make a difference, to help those children who were now in the same situation I had been.

Both S and my friends both love and hate the fact I never sugar-coat and hand out tough love when they seek my thoughts or opinions. They love that I'm so forthright and blunt yet they dislike the fact I say exactly what comes into my mind without any thought of tact.

Often, I dislike being told what to do by S. And when in a D/s or D/D relationship, this can cause problems. Yet, we tried the good old vanilla way of things and within two days I was bored, out of touch, irritable and craving his authority and commands.

So when I realized my vision had changed from a high flying career woman to a sparkling house with a white picket fence, adoring kids and a hot meal served on the table at the end of the day, it's safe to say I was very confused about it all.

Yes, I wish for S to look forward to coming home, to feeling safe, to knowing he has a welcoming partner and a loving and caring home. No, I do not wish to (and wont) be silenced. Yes, I will submit to S's wishes and do as he asks of me. No, I wont blindly follow him and not state my opinion if I think he is wrong or if I think I have a better solution to something.

Does this make me un-submissive? Does it mean I am taking my gender back to when they had no rights or equal say? No, it means I love my partner and that I am willing to take care of him. Why is that frowned upon by society, just because a woman wants to cook or clean or stay home with the kids and look after her partner's needs? Why does society automatically assume a woman who wants that is a doormat? I can assure you I am far from a doormat and if and when I have complaints or hesitations or questions, S hears them all. Loudly.

Not only does he hear about them, he listens to them. Considers them, values them, respects them. Just because he has the final say doesn't mean my thoughts are unheard or unspoken. I care for him in any way I can because I love him, I support him, I trust him. I trust him to lead us in the right direction that will make our relationship better than it was before. Just because I willingly submit, doesn't mean I believe females should have less rights, less pay, no votes, to defer to someone who doesn't deserve their submission.

It takes a strong and trustworthy man to be given the gift of his partner's submission and treat it respectfully and with care. S knows this and knows I give myself fully to him in any way he chooses. He respects and treasures this, as any good man would do.

Submission Vs Independance

I wonder sometimes how the two can go together.
What I mean is, take myself for an example.

I'm stubborn, independent, fiery, hot headed and opinionated. Sometimes, I'm downright bratty and argumentative. I say what I mean and mean what I say. There's times when I want to do things my way and no other way. There's times when I refuse to listen. All the complete opposite as what is defined as submissive and submission.

Definition of submissive:

1.
inclined or ready to submit; unresistingly or humbly obedient
2.
marked by or indicating submission: a submissive reply.



And yet, I class myself as submissive to S.

It's over the last three to four days that I started thinking how one could have these personality traits and yet consider themselves as a submissive. What led to this thinking was the following:

The past three days, barring today, I've been at my very best in regards to submission. That's not to say there isn't room for improvement of course, there always is. But right now, in this present moment I've really tried my best. I've done what I've been asked immediately, with no hesitations or complaints. I've followed rules and deadlines to the letter. I've addressed S as Sir at all times. I've even headed to the corner with no complaints or questions when asked, whereas usually my answer would be something along the lines of "but why? I didn't do anything!" I've been called good girl more over these three days than I have in the last six months. One comment made to me told me how he was both pleased and proud and how I was a good girl, all in the same sentence. That was a first, as I've never had that together before now.

At one point he asked me if I preferred my submission now or as it was before these three days. Because in all honesty; it was never perfect or even close to perfect. I thought about it for a while before I answered and came to the following conclusion:

I can't decide right now, simply because it's too soon. I like both of them and can't choose which I like better. I've felt closer mentally, physically and emotionally these past few days when my submission was at its best...but at the same time, I love how it was before, too. Because I was much more playful and sarcastic. And we all know how sarcasm is a trademark of mine, and how playful I can get at times. But then, this led me to thinking how when I get playful or sarcastic sometimes I go too far. I don't mean to, it just sort of happens. And before you know it, it's changed from playfulness or sarcasm into outright brattiness or dis-respectfulness and before I can blink I'm either in the corner or being flogged.

And the strange thing is, before these three days began I didn't make any conscious decision to try harder or to be better in terms of submission, it just sort of happened and neither of us were expecting it. And I actually loved it. I loved the fact I was doing so well, that he was pleased and proud, and I adored each and every singe "good girl." And the fact I loved it so much pushed me to try even harder, to keep getting better, to keep striving to make him happy with me.

And then...then I woke this morning in a decidedly un-submissive mood. At one point he asked me what had changed, why I wasn't continuing on as before, if there was any reason for it. Was I feeling low physically or emotionally? Was there something bothering me? Was anything bothering me personally or in regards to D/s?

And the answer was a resounding no. I was just peachy, thank you very much. It was just that I didn't feel submissive in the slightest and was feeling extremely independent and stubborn and hey, I didn't want to do this or that, so stop ordering me about damn it!

And yet...even though I didn't want to do that, or follow orders or listen to him in any way shape or form (Gotta love the independent stubborn brat in me.) subconsciously I knew that this wasn't the way to go about it, because all it would do is succeed in causing confusion between us as to why my moods had changed so quickly, and why I'd found submission so easy before yet was now finding it extremely difficult to follow even the simplest of orders. But I just couldn't stop it and continued this way. I even told him I'm feeling very independent right now. (Translate into: stubborn!)

And that's how these thoughts came about. Can you have both submission and independence simultaneously or will they always fight each other for control? How do you find that balance?

When The Brain Goes On Vacation

*Warning: D/s and sexual content.*




Sometimes, my brain decides to go on a vacation. It leaves the rest of my body behind, my back and ass in particular, whilst it lounges happily upon a hammock wondering which cocktail to have next.

The other night was one of its vacations. That's the only explanation for what happened. I'd been skating on thin ice for most of the day yet somehow miraculously I always managed to get back behind it. My brain returned from vacation and stepped in to save the day just in time.

Only, once we got into bed it clearly decided enough was enough and it needed a longer vacation than a few hours at a time. So it packed its bags and off it went. And as soon as it did so my mind started thinking decidedly un-submissive thoughts and my mouth thought it was a good idea to actually say them out loud.

S wasn't impressed in the slightest and voiced his thoughts on my behaviour but I didn't want to listen and I didn't want to think about it. How could I think about it? My brain was suspiciously absent! So I continued with the un-submissive thoughts and words, and the eye rolling and the huffing and the sarcastic comments. I even went as far as to directly disobey an order (or two or three...) and turned my back on him.

Now, I enjoy my submission. It is a gift I give freely to S and he respects it and treasures it. I enjoy making him happy via my submission. But that night? That night I didn't want to be submissive. I was more like a kid throwing a tantrum because they can't have the toy they want.

And I just couldn't stop it! The words kept tumbling out as did the disrespectfulness and disobedience. S had had enough and tried to pull me towards him and I huffed and moved out of reach. So he did the thing I wanted the least-he reached under the bed. That means paddle or cane or flogger.  Sometimes it may mean restraints or certain toys I dislike. It might mean the damn crop. All. Very. Bad. Things.

So what did I do? Did I know I had it coming? Absolutely! Did I admit that and accept that? Hell no! Instead when he told me I was going to be flogged, I pouted and mumbled (also in a very disrespectful tone) "Don't want to be flogged. Don't want it. Nope!" I was certainly getting the spoiled kid act down to perfection.

He sighed at the same time my brain returned from its vacation. Better think fast, it told me. So I thought fast-very fast. Why was I acting like this? He hadn't done anything that had upset me or hurt me. He hadn't asked me to do anything I didn't want to and he hadn't refused to allow me to do anything that I'd asked for over the course of the day. We were getting along perfectly. So why was I so irritable?

It didn't take long to figure it out-frustration. The previous few days he had had me edge several times but never allowed me to achieve orgasm. I was sexually frustrated and it was becoming apparent in the way I was acting. He'd even, at one point, offered to allow me to reach orgasm in the morning. I'd refused, claiming I wanted it now or not at all. So very submissive, I know...

My brain started to quickly fire off directions and instructions. First up: Apology. But...I wasn't sorry. And I wasn't going to say it without meaning it. So a second later when he asked if I was sorry I told him no, but I want to be. I was surprised when he chose not to admonish me for my response, instead he told me that the fact I wanted to be sorry was in fact very good. His response made me smile to myself. And with his response, my mood quickly started to change. I thought about how lucky I am with how well he can read me. I can never hide anything from him. I thought about how well he had just handled my response. Admonishing me would have made me feel even more bratty and resentful, but indirectly telling me I was in effect being good by what I actually wanted worked on opening me up, on allowing my resentment to start slipping away, on focusing on how well he handles such situations and my moods. It made me realize I cherish him and his authority and it helped me begin to get my head into a more submissive mind-set...where it should have been all along.

I didn't want to be disrespectful or a brat. I didn't want to directly disrespect him, either and yet I was clearly doing that with my words and actions. I hate when he is unhappy with me and I love when he is pleased with me. So why was I acting the way I knew would cause him to be unhappy?

Yes, I was frustrated. But my attitude and behaviour wasn't the right way to go about voicing it. My brain was finally back in residence with the current switched on. So I turned to him and asked to be restrained. I knew it would help me achieve a submissive mind set much more quickly. Yes, I was starting to feel much more submissive already but not completely-there was that small part of me silently screaming that I still wanted my own way.

Within five to ten minutes of my hands being restrained together, I could finally apologise to him and actually mean it this time along with offering to sleep with my hands still restrained as some part of compensation for my earlier attitude. S accepted my offer and was still kind enough to repeat that the choice of orgasm the following day was still on the table.

I.
Refused.
It.

I must be nuts, right? I actually refused it, when it was that very thing that was frustrating the heck out of me. But I refused because, quite simply, I didn't feel like I deserved it. Not with the way I had spoken and acted towards him. So I thanked him and asked him to take that offer away and not give it back until he felt I did genuinely deserve it.

And hopefully that wont be too long, because after whispering it a little secret, my brain is no longer hopping off to destinations unknown.

 

Independence and Submission with A Dash Of Stubbornness

The two don't really mix well together, at least not when independence comes roaring out with boxing gloves attached.

I've been sick, and in being sick I've been testy and temperamental. Bratty. Argumentative. Fighting tooth and claw to get my own way about absolutely everything, when there really wasn't any need. There were times I was trying to get on with things and asked to go to him or to do something that was well within my capabilities sick or not, and I bitched about it or continually kept putting things off.

I was sick and grouchy and I didn't want to be told what to do, I wanted to be left alone and if I chose to follow an order then I'd take my own sweet time in doing so because hey: sick and you're lucky I'm choosing to follow it at all!

When he tried to talk to me about it I responded curtly and aggressively and if he repeated it I'd bite his head off and then sulk and pout when he reminded me there was no need for that. I'd raise my voice at him and if he placed his hand on my neck or shoulder, kissed my forehead or caressed my cheek, I'd turn away and tell him I just wanted to be left by myself.

 

That's been me for the past few days. He didn't deserve it, I knew he didn't deserve it and yet I just couldn't stop it! He tried so many times to talk to me and to communicate in the hopes of working things out but I just wasn't listening. Things eventually came to a head after I spent a long time alone rehashing the things I'd said and the way that I'd acted towards him. Why was I causing him pain when it was within my power to end it and rectify it? Because I was being stubborn and my pride was getting the better of me. I knew I should apologise, I knew I was the one at fault-but I didn't want to. Some of the times I raised my voice or said harsh words a small part of me was hoping he would take control of the situation by simply taking me upstairs for a flogging, whether I protested or not. But I was too proud and stubborn to admit this.

My pride and stubbornness were holding me back and not allowing me to go to him, to fix things between us and move forward. And it wasn't healthy in the slightest. He was hurting and confused, and I was hurting and feeling guilt and shame for the way I was treating him. Something had to change.

And as soon as I acknowledged this and accepted the fact I was the one at fault I felt much more willing and able to communicate and work things through. I didn't want to hurt him or cause him pain and not only had I done so I was causing him even more by refusing to allow us to communicate between ourselves, despite his best efforts and countless attempts. I didn't want that. I didn't want us to drift apart and resent each other. I love him and need him; and as soon as I realized I needed to go to him, to be with him, I also realized he knew this all along. It's why he repeatedly kept asking me to talk and open up, and kept coming back and trying to hug or kiss me even though my responses were never what he wanted, and he most likely knew they wouldn't be yet still kept insisting and trying.

So when he came to me the next time I told him I was sorry and he led me to the couch where we sat and cuddled whilst we talked things through.

Being sick meant that there's been little D/s and no floggings, spankings or canings which had started to make me feel invulnerable, safe and independent. And starting to feel independent meant I started to drift away from him both physically and emotionally, which wasn't good for either of us. I started to feel like I didn't need him, I could cope with things all by my lonesome and I was just peachy doing so. And the longer it went on, the further away I drifted and the more apparent this newfound independence became. It started to manifest itself in the middle of our relationship and while I thought it was okay and it could work, it clearly wasn't because it wasn't just showing that I could manage alone but it was in fact driving us apart in such a negative manner. Being sick probably made it seem even more apparent because I wasn't in a good place physically to begin with which then leaked into my emotional state.

I managed to voice my feelings into a jumble of words and tried to make him understand what I was experiencing and he understood it completely yet couldn't understand why I hadn't talked to him sooner and told him how I was feeling. If  I'd gone to him sooner or allowed him to come to me on one of the many times he tried we could have avoided several days of negative feelings and emotions.

Stubbornness, pride and independence all worked together and almost succeeded in convincing me that I didn't need to go to him, to talk to him, to open up and be close. It was only when I started listening to submission that I finally made the right call and did the right thing.

In doing so it allowed us to fix things between us and begin to move forward feeling content once again and even though I knew I'd be punished for it, the flogging was a small price to pay for that. It hurt like crazy yet as soon as the first blow landed I felt the negative emotions start to leave me, knowing that this would be helping him immensely in dealing with his own anger and hurt. The lecture, as always, was well timed and extremely effective to the point it had me stay as still as I could each time a blow fell. The two of them work extremely well together and I doubt either would be as effective on its own.

I learned that whilst independence is certainly a good thing, sometimes it simply has no place. And from now on

Needing Versus Wanting

Sometimes, I get one of those moods upon me. You know the type, the one where you bounce around with countless energy, find your sarcasm highly amusing and don't care if it's said at the most inappropriate of times and you generally act like a five year old kid hyped up on sugar. Those kinds of moods.

Now, those moods would be fine if you're not going to be held accountable to them sometime later but when you are held accountable it pretty much sucks. And at the time, your mind is telling you you're eventually going to pay for it and yet you just can't seem to stop yourself.

I tend to get these moods at night when we're in bed and about to sleep. All of a sudden my brain starts rapidly firing thoughts into my mind and I just have to share them with him. He'll put up with it for a while before eventually telling me to settle down and sleep and I'll listen to him-for about two minutes. Then I think of something else that just has to be said too. He'll listen and respond and then tell me he's already asked me to sleep and this is my last warning. If I start again I'll be spanked or flogged or caned. Anything that involves blasted instruments attacking my ass.

So I'll be quiet for a few minutes and then I'll think of another thing that I absolutely need to tell him right now! I'll mull it over in my mind and argue with myself:

You don't want to be spanked or flogged or caned.

But I need to tell him this!

You'll regret it, just wait until morning.

But I'll have forgotten it by then most likely!

He warned you, and you know he'll carry out his threat.

It's just a quick thing though, he wont mind.

It's not about minding; it's about the fact he's asked you to sleep and you're ignoring him.

I'm not ignoring him, I just want to tell him this teensy thing. I'll be super quick and then straight to sleep!

Be as quick as you want, it wont save your ass.

Oh shut up, he wont mind.


And so on it goes, until eventually that sneaky devil knocks that angel flying into the next room.

And so I'll roll closer to him and tell him whatever super important thing I'd thought of, which is followed by complete silence and eventually a sigh and then he'll roll over and reach under the bed during which time I've dived back under the covers, turned over and am somehow extremely sleepy all of a sudden. Imagine that.

But now that I'm extremely sleepy; he suddenly isn't and will remove the covers so that I'm not protected in my little cocoon that I just managed to create in three seconds flat and ask me to turn over. I'll complain and say it was the last thing, I'm sorry, I'll sleep now, this really isn't necessary or needed in any way and I'll plead for a few minutes before eventually giving up and rolling over, all the while huffing and sighing about it. And sometimes, I'll even throw in a sarcastic comment for good measure or ask innocently "But I thought you were tired?" I might even throw in more sarcastic comments during the first few swats.

And afterwards when it's over, he'll ask me if I'm feeling more submissive, if it was worth it and if I wish to sleep now...err, yes, no and yes?!

This pattern happens most nights and sometimes I wonder why I insist on repeating it-I know what's going to happen and I know I'll be held accountable for it and yet I just keep pushing and pushing until it eventually happens. It makes me wonder if subconsciously I'm craving it and needing it even though I don't really want it.

Ah, the perplexities of the human mind.

Alcohol makes you do the dumbest things...

Ever have one of those days where you know you should be listening, but you'd much rather be off doing your own things? After all, who needs rules? Rules were made to be broken and all that...so the past few days you could say I've been a little temperamental and consistently ignored orders.

That's all well good until you start being reminded of why those rules were set in the first place, and when I say reminded I actually mean lectured. Who needs those also?

I guess I should back up a little bit. I'm not allowed to drink alcohol without express permission, because it interferes with both my health and my medication. But on Sunday the thought kept flitting across my mind: "Just one, just a small one, that wont do any harm!"

You might very well agree that one small glass wont do any harm...what is extremely harmful is not getting the permission that I needed first. I thought about it, really I did! And then I decided it would be rude to wake him up-I'm such a considerate girlfriend and just wanted him to get his beauty sleep.

What I really wanted, was that one small glass and I didn't want to be told no in any way shape or form. So I went to the only logical solution.

I poured that glass.

Without.
Express.
Permission.

And as I took the first sip I decided oh surely he wont be mad, it's just a small glass and it's been a while. But then the night wore on and I suddenly realized not only had I drank the first glass, I'd also poured a second and a third. And maybe even more. I'm not too sure on the correct number, my head was a little fuzzy by then.

And when he woke and came downstairs to see what I was doing and why I wasn't in bed, he could tell immediately I had ha alcohol and asked me straight out about it. I flashed him the most submissive smile I could muster combined with answering in a pleading voice and told him just a teensy bit.

He wasn't happy. At all.


But the funny thing about alcohol is, is that whereas usually I'd be much more careful and subservient towards rules, it makes you just not give a damn! And I went to pour another one...right in front of him! Even though I knew he wasn't happy. But I didn't care. I was happy, and talking online to friends and listening to music and rather hyperactive. And my mushed up brain knew I was going to be in trouble the day after but just couldn't convince me there and then of how bad it was.

This would have been bad enough on its own, but I just had to go and add to it. Why get in trouble for just this? If I'm getting in trouble I might as well do it in style and go all out. So when I went and flopped into bed at some god forsaken hour and he started to remind me of my rules, I just wanted to sleep. I didn't want to listen, I didn't want to be lectured and I didn't want to know I had punishments in the very near future.

So you know what I did?

I rolled over, looked him straight in he eye and said

Yes. I actually said that. I actually told him to shh!

As soon as I said it, I knew I'd just made things several times worse. He's told me before now he doesn't like it and to stop saying it when I once said it playfully. So I guess saying it and actually meaning it just earned me some severe discipline.

When I woke a few hours later you'd think my brain would have registered the fact of how deep my hole was...but no! I wasn't done yet. I realized I'd overslept and missed a doctor's appointment AND I'd forgotten to take my medication before I went to sleep...again.

Upon remembering this one simple thought flashed through my mind:

I didn't want to tell him...but knew I had to. So I kind of mumbled it from underneath my pillow, followed quickly with the fact I really didn't mean to forget, I knew that was very, very bad and that I'd be punished for it.

He pointed out the first time that I forgot my medication could have been forgiven, it was completely accidental. But the second time and missing the doctors appointment both happened because of the alcohol. I'd completely forgotten because I was oh so merry from it.

Merry from that alcohol that I was not allowed, because I didn't have permission to drink it. Not only did I not have that permission, I never even asked for it, I just took it upon myself to ignore one of the most fundamental rules he had put in place for me. I'd missed my medication and would soon start to feel the effects of that and I'd missed a very important doctor's appointment. Lack of medication meant that I was lacking energy and I'd fallen behind on the housework and chores and now I wouldn't be my normal self for at least a couple of days. I'd blatantly disregarded a rule, which led to breaking others inadvertently and I'd succeeded in upsetting and disappointing him immensely.

The lecture went on but those were the words that really stuck in my mind.

Why had I been so insistent and disregarded that particular rule, knowing how seriously he values and how much he cares for my health? The answer was simple: I'd been stubborn and selfish and placed my own wants before his, not caring about the consequences nor about the fact I knew every rule he lays down is in my best interest. I'd hurt him by refusing to get the permission beforehand when I'd previously agreed to do so; which was and is the last thing I would ever want.

I'd disappointed him by placing my health last on my list of priorities when he spends every day taking care of it and aiming for me to love and take care of myself the way he does.

And that's the worst feeling...not the fact there is a severe punishment close on the horizon, but the fact I hurt and upset him. If only I could take it back, I'd do it in a heartbeat. But that isn't the way life works and I'm mature and intelligent enough to know that consequences have actions. I had complete control over my actions and I'm completely at fault for them.

I guess the only thing left to do is accept the punishment without making excuses and I just have one final thing to state..

Stereotypical Gender Roles

It's taken a long time for women to be able to proudly claim the same rights as men, and even now some men still dispute the fact that women are able to do, so as they believe their wives should remain stay at home mothers and look after the children and the house.

However in this day and age most of society frown upon this way of thinking and if a woman actually wants this herself then society automatically assumes that there is something wrong in the mind of the woman or that she must be being forced into saying this. The word submissive has instant negative connotations when used in conjunction with a wife remaining submissive and deferring to her husband, even now, and even if the choice is entirely her own.

Because of the negative connotations it has, it is rarely looked at any deeper than this and few people try to really engage and understand in what it means. I aim to dispel some myths, and look at the pros and cons whilst putting my own opinion across in a non biased way.

First though, I'd like to state that the opinions in this article in no way express the term submissive in a BDSM/D/s way, but solely my thoughts on a wife being submissive to her husband, without any other aspects of D/s involved. This is also MY personal thoughts and opinions and in no way speaks for the rest of, or any, of my gender. Just little ol' me.

With that being said:

I believe that a wife -should- defer to her husband and remain submissive to him. But let's get one thing straight immediately. I said she should defer to him and remain submissive, I did NOT say she should be a blind puppet who follows him unquestioningly.

Well then, if you question him how is that submissive? you might ask. Let me explain by giving you two scenarios:

Scenario one: Husband and wife can not come to an agreement on an important matter. Husband follows his own judgement without discussing it with his wife and makes his own decision and she doesn't get a say in the matter.

Scenario two: Husband and wife can not come to an agreement on an important matter. They discuss it and she respectfully places across her point of view, reasoning and thoughts. He weighs her opinion and counsel carefully before making the final decision for both of them, which she accepts because she knows the decision he is making is in both of their best interests even if she may not agree with or even like it.

The first scenario is not her being submissive, but merely a man on a power trip. The second scenario is him realising and acknowledging they both have equal say in their relationship and heeding her words even if his final decision is not the one she wanted. Her submission comes by accepting this, by giving him the power to make that final decision and by trusting him to lead them both correctly; which is a responsibility that he takes seriously.

As for stereotypical roles such as looking after the children and the house, it is my opinion that a child should be raised equally by both mother and father, as children need both parents present in their life in order to grow and be taught and raised properly.

Looking after the house, I believe that should fall to the woman. Not because "that's where women belong" or because "men are no good at it" but because it is another way of showing that she remains submissive to him. Let's face it, most males don't like chores and I view this, as another way to show that you're taking care of him and that you want to look after him.

However: This isn't me saying if you have a husband that doesn't love and appreciate you, who does nothing all day, is rude and arrogant etc, that you should do this just because it is expected of you. That's not remaining submissive, that's servitude. BUT if you have a good man, one who takes care of you, who appreciates you, who loves you...well, why wouldn't you want to take care of him this way, and to make his days a little easier if it's within your capabilities?

Remaining submissive and deferring to your husband/partner isn't because you're weak in any way, but because you know that it's practically impossible for a relationship to survive and thrive when both of you are trying to claim that power of who is right, who gets the last word, who makes the final decision...we've all done it, we're all guilty...and did it really make your relationship any better? Or did it drive you apart?

A relationship can't have two rulers. It has to have give and take. And what happens when both of you simply want to constantly take? It eventually separates you because of anger, harsh words, misunderstandings. One person has to eventually give a little more than take, even if it's just that extra one percent more.

Give and take. I choose to give my submission.

Tears Are For The Weak...Or Are They?

I didn't plan on writing this to begin with-but then I realized I had several jumbled up emotions that I wanted to make sense of; and as writing is always my way of doing that: here we are.

Anyway, over the past few days I have been a little inconsistent with some things that I really can not afford to be inconsistent with. I could use the excuse of "But it's the holidays" or "I wasn't feeling too well due to suffering with migraines a lot recently" or "I wasn't feeling good emotionally due to extenuating circumstances," or even simply, "I forgot."

But I know none of those are an excuse-it doesn't matter it's the holidays-some of the things I need to be consistent with, are needed all.of.the.time. Three hundred and sixty five days of the year. No excuses. One of those things, had I indeed been consistent; would most likely have rectified the migraines and the emotional downfall. I can't afford to forget. Not now, not ever. Not even for a day.
So I kind of went a little AWOL looking after my health recently, because of some of these things. Only now I had a problem. It -wasn't- a problem, when I lived alone. Because I wasn't held accountable to anything, and if I forgot it was a case of "oh well." It is a problem, however, when you live with your partner...who also happens to be your Dominant.

Oh boy, yes it is indeed a problem then.

How could I think he wouldn't have noticed? Bad Frosty! Of course he noticed. He noticed everything, as he always does. Only I wasn't aware of this because he didn't mention anything to me immediately, in fact he didn't mention anything at all until last night, four days after my first ...mishap.

And he mentioned it when I was least expecting it. Did I mention I hate lectures? I think I have...a few thousand times. And after his first sentence, I knew what was coming. I knew I didn't want it, yet there was no way to stop it!

I tried burying my head under him...perhaps I could muffle the sound? Nope, didn't work, he just moved position. I tried burying my head under my pillow. He just moved it away. I tried burying my head under the bedcovers. Can't see you; can't hear you! Na na na.

Nah, that didn't work either. Claustrophobia had me pop my head back out within seconds. Huge sigh. Irritated shuffling on the bed. Eyes closed. I wasn't avoiding it, he would make sure of that. Might as well get it over with.

He phrased each word carefully, checked several times to see if I was still listening to him and repeated the fact he was doing this for my own benefit. I knew this already, it didn't mean I wanted to hear it! But his words were getting to me, slowly tearing down my emotional defences. We both knew it. And it wasn't the things he pointed out I needed to be doing better with, but the way he stated his happiness comes from my happiness...and for this to happen, I need to trust him to guide me, and to follow his example. I needed to start taking better care of myself, I needed to start caring and loving myself the way he does.

Why does he have such a way with words? He is possibly the only person who can climb underneath my outer shell and reach me emotionally where no one else can.

By the time the lecture was finished, I was laying with my head on his chest, nodding yes or no to his questions. I didn't want to talk-I was too subdued. I was thinking of the fact he tries so hard to care for me and show me love and support in each and every way, and how the one thing he really wants for me is the thing I find the most difficult-to love myself. I was thinking of the things I had become lax on, things that I can't afford to mess around with and how many times in the past he's mentioned one or two of those specific things. I felt...emotional, and disappointed. Disappointed in myself for not caring for myself better, and disappointed in myself for disappointing him.

I felt like crying-but I knew I wouldn't. I don't do crying. Crying is for the weak after all, right? At least, I've always been taught to believe that. But recently my thoughts upon this have started to change. I've started to become more accustomed to dealing with negative emotions in a healthy way instead of a self destructive way. It's hard and it's a work in progress, but I'm slowly getting there; and I know he is proud of me because of that.

All of this was going through my mind so quickly that I could barely keep up with my own thoughts, I just knew one thing: I wanted....no, I needed, to be forgiven. Why did this specific lecture touch me so much more deeply than previous ones? I don't know. Maybe it's because of this very reason: becoming more in touch with my emotions. But I knew I needed that forgiveness.

So in a small voice, I asked to be flogged. Without him holding back...he has never brought me to tears via any punishment because he is well aware of my thoughts on crying being for the weak. He knew by doing so, it could potentially affect me negatively emotionally given my past and so he stayed well away from it.

But this time? This time I needed it. And I needed it to be him who brought me there.

And so the flogging started...softly at first and then becoming harder with each stoke. It hurt, but not to the point the pain lasted more than a second or two. But he kept at it, and started switching between the flogger and the riding crop.

In the last ten years I can count on two fingers the people who have seen me cry, and one time was in labour. Other than those two people, nobody else had seen me cry, and until last night I was sure nobody ever would. But as he continued, I knew I needed this; I needed to let go, I needed to bring down my emotional walls and truly trust him one hundred percent. I had to stop being so afraid of being seen as 'weak.'

The flogging continued and there was a long time I was fighting back the tears-I wanted it yet I was instinctively trying my hardest to resist it when I felt it happening. Sometimes, I don't even understand myself. The flogging that a friend saw on cam was nothing compared to this, that was like a slap on the wrist. She even pointed out at one point during that flogging "She's not a screamer, is she?" as I remained so quiet throughout it. And I remained quiet this time. Previously during canings or paddling's I have instinctively moved away, I've insisted I've learned my lesson, that I don't need to be punished any further, that I will be good. I've stalled by trying to make conversation when ordered to get back in position. If that didn't work I'd make a dumb joke or sarcastic comment to make him laugh and try and distract him. This time though, I was completely silent. I didn't move an inch. It must have continued for well over thirty minutes, each hit harder than the last, each stroke of the flogger bringing a fresh bout of pain and each swing of the crop having me clench my teeth in anticipation as I heard the whooshing sound as it neared my back or ass.

And finally, the tears came. I let go. I let down my walls, and I surrendered completely. I surrendered to the punishment, I surrendered to the pain, I surrendered to the fact that although it hurt right now, although I may not have wanted it, I needed it. I didn't just surrender my body, but I surrendered every part of myself-my body, my heart and soul-I surrendered completely to him.

And it felt...unbelievable. It felt refreshing...it calmed me in a way I didn't know was possible. And the flogging continued long after the first tears truly started...it continued for a very long time after they fell, and throughout the remainder of them. And every so often he would gently rub my back and whisper to me how proud he was, how good I was being...but I couldn't respond, I was too far gone emotionally; although each time he did so it succeeded in making me smile through my tears. He would tell me "You think tears are for the weak but can you really see any of your friends or family sustaining the amount of pain you're receiving right now?" "Do you really think you're weak? Look at what you're going through. You're not weak, you're strong. You're the strongest person that I know."
And when he finally stopped and placed the crop and flogger down, he asked me to move closer to him and I silently rolled over to him and curled my body under his, still quiet, still contemplating.
He must have known I needed that silence to make sense of my thoughts because for a long time neither of us spoke. We just lay there...together. Content. And I felt...rejuvenated. Refreshed. Open emotionally like never before. Forgiven.

Strong.