the point

It is funny the ways i am reminded of the point of why i do what i do, why i serve the way that i do.  Funny ha ha, or funny ironic, or funny weird i haven’t quite decided.  i will leave that determination up to you Ma’am.  i know that i am never reminded by the moments that are easy.  By the tasks i am set to do that i would have been doing anyway or do simply, naturally, like breathing.  It always comes in the moments i am not expecting.  It comes in the moments when the service is difficult…or perhaps difficult is too strong a word…maybe the right word is unexpected…or a surprise.  Maybe it is a surprise because my mind has drifted off on things that i want or need to be doing or i am just going about a task with less intention than perhaps i should.  And then suddenly there is a request sometimes simple, sometimes complex, and i feel a moment in my mind and body that feels almost like conflict but again i don’t think that is exactly the correct word.  It is more like a sudden stop, like coming up short and quite suddenly being fully present in my life and in my choices and in my place.

i am not going to lie it is not always a pleasant sensation but in the end it is always a welcome one. It is of particular value when life is busy and things just seem to keep going on their way and i drift slightly, become complacent and less present in my daily tasks.  In these moments i am allowed to breath into my intention and lean into my service and show up and do it.  i won’t claim seemlessness when i am caught flat footed…i am considerably too transparent for that and i know the grinding of my gears shows though and i always regret that but i hope that i always show up and i always do it.  Whatever it is…running out at night for ice cream, altering a favorite recipe until it is absolutely perfect and puts a true smile on the face of a Pretty Lady, or remembering to load the dishwasher, or hang up my jacket…it is a million tiny things, a million tiny actions that make up day to day service and even when i stumble and even when i don’t quite pull it all off i value and savor each moment of my service.  

And i value most of all those moments that push me to be present, intentional, loving, and devoted.  i value the surprises and the reminders and hope i live up to my duties and my word.  This is not an easy path i have chosen but i know in some deep resonant place that it is the right path and i walk it with the right person.

on being sensative

Ma’am,

i am torn between saying i want to be your sensitive girl and the last thing in the world i want to be is your sensitive girl.  i want to be tough and strong and capable.  And we both know i want to be perfect.  i never want to hear disappointment, or upset, or anger in your voice.  All i want is my life of service to make you happy.  Even when i do things ‘correctly’ but they don’t work out exactly as you wanted i feel like i have not fulfilled my responsibilities, that i have let you down.  An important thing to note here is that i am all too aware that this is my issue to deal with, my problem.  i know deep down you are as much of a fixer as i am and when you see me hurting or feeling less than perfect you alternately want to make it all better and strangle me until i stop acting the fool.  If it helps any i want to do those things too…it probably doesn’t.

Being sensitive brings me so much joy…it is the thing that allows me to move through the world the way i do.  It is the thing that allows me to know what you need before you ask for it, it is the thing that allows my body to respond to the subtlest cues and touches.  It is the thing that allows me to process pain and turn it into beauty.  It is also the thing that means my eyes leak sometimes when it is really not convenient, it is the thing that makes me so transparent that you always know when i am upset even in the most frustrating moments.  i work and i work to try and change the ways it doesn’t serve me.  i try so hard to allow this thing to be my biggest strength and not my greatest weakness.  i am not so secretly terrified that i will never succeed in this struggle and i will always defeat myself letting my feelings trip me up and make me stumble on my way.  i know perfection is not realistic, or even possible, i also know that i didn’t actually screw up today.  i know that you love me as much when i am difficult as when i am easy…some days my problem is i don’t.

Some days i just want to slap the shit out of that girl.  Some days i just wish she would pull her shit together and stop being so fucking sensitive.  And some days i want her to teach me all the things she is dying to share.  Some days it is such a mix of all of those feelings that i feel nuts.  And some days i find peace with the delicate emotional being that lives inside.  i guess that’s the trick…loving her and being at peace with her so when she shows up i can welcome her in even if her timing can sometimes be dreadful.

i love you Ma’am…and thank you for loving her…even when i have trouble.

on turning 40 and how to live the second half

So in two days i turn 40…one of those milestone numbers we all like to pretend are irrelevant and yet make you stop and take stock of your life.  This is it the half-way point…for reals…and as i have arrived here i have found myself asking one critical core question.  Do i want to spend the second half of my life feeling about myself the same way i have felt, drinking the same kool-aid about myself, i have for the first half.  The simple answer to that is no.  The more complicated answer is also no…because that leads to the questions of what the hell to do about it.  My emotions…my reactions…my view of myself…don’t serve me.  These things make me reactionary, defensive, self-hating, and easily triggered…they cause me to heap judgement and more self-loathing on top of whatever i am feeling pushing me further down under the weight of it all.  When this happens it is not just my sense of self and my well-being that are damaged it damages my relationships with others and my ability to relate and interact in healthy sustainable ways.  I have hurt and injured the people i love because i couldn’t stop myself from twisting down the rabbit hole.

So now what. Well, to start with i went to therapy…and thank god for a good therapist…and i laid it out…i started by saying that i feel broken…like there is always something wrong with me and the more i feel that the less able i am to see myself as anything other than flawed and worthless…she cut through that with laser precision…she walked me back and allowed me to point directly at the voice that fuels my inner voices…the one who’s tone and pitch i have become so used to that i could not distinguish it from my own voice…i listened and hear the origin of the idea that i am never quite right…never quite good enough…i may be smart but i’m never quite pretty…i may be able to talk but that’s what the men do not the Ladies…my voice is too loud…my brain too big…and my hair not long enough or curly enough and my face isn’t made up and i’m not wearing a dress and as long as those things are true nothing else i do will ever make the difference because i am not a pretty girl and that’s what i should be…so yes i have heard this voice forever…since i was a tiny thing…heard it enough that i assumed it was my own voice.  I could never quite figure out why i didn’t like myself…my parents were always loving and supportive so there is no excuse for me to feel like i don’t fit and like i am never good enough or deserving enough…except that i did hear that i wasn’t good enough…i just didn’t look those words in the face and see their source instead i just blamed myself for never being able to pull my shit together.  That is how i have been for the first half of my life.  Hating myself for never feeling like i fit, never feeling pretty or sexy or acceptable because someone so early in my life told me i wasn’t ever pretty enough, or girly enough to be truly loved without judgement…and i refuse to spend the second half of my life feeling that way.

I will not base my relationships on deprivation…on not having enough…on not being enough…i am enough…i am good…i am worthy…i am me…i am a slave…i am a girl…i am sometimes a boy…i am complicated and human and scared and scarred and sacred just by being…i am strong enough to forge a new path forward…i am strong enough not to go back…i am strong enough to cry and not have that mean i am ruled by my emotions…i am strong enough to feel myself come up against those old road blocks and know that is what is happening…i am strong enough to know i will not be perfect and i will still sometimes be scared and need reassurance…and i am strong enough to ask for that reassurance when i need it and hear the words that are given to me with such love and honesty…i am strong enough to reach this crossroads in my life and choose the much steeper more difficult path that leads to me…leads to what i want and how i want to feel…leads to the place where i am serving from a place of  light and enlightenment and from a place that allows the best of me to be the center of me and not grow from a place of doubt and fear…i can see the dark corners and the dark stuff at the bottom…and that stuff may always be there one way or another but i don’t have to feed it and i don’t have to put my roots in it…i can clear a path through lightness…through being…and i can be better…i can be me…and i can love each flawed and vulnerable piece that i have fought so hard to deny…

i can and i will…for me.  because if i cannot serve myself and love myself i cannot serve and love the one i serve and love the way we both deserve.  i will love myself and the person i am right in this moment not because of the promises i am making myself or the pretty Lady but because the person i am right now with all the fear in my heart and the stress in my head that person deserves love just for being here and breathing today…i deserve that love just because i am…and i will give it to myself the way i give it to those around me and that will give me more to share…i won’t go back…as i write this i feel my heart pounding i feel honest profound love…i am allowing myself to feel it from the crown of my head to the tip of my toes and breathing through the thoughts that try and creep in and stick and deny and denigrate…i breathe through them and allow them to pass…writing this is my meditation for the night…i am writing this through my fear of saying these things out loud…i am writing this through the fear that it will be read and judged and misunderstood…i am writing this through the voices that say i shouldn’t talk about loving myself because who am i to be loved like that…i am writing this and posting it out there in the world as my promise to myself that when the voice is overwhelming and i can’t hear over the howl of it i will read this and remember that i am worthy…i am good…i am me.  and that is all that is necessary.

hearing words

I realized something this morning lying in my bed contemplating a series of events last night and  a few things more broadly.  Last night i was reminded that i have not been entirely successful at learning to curb my tendency toward loud, passionate argument.  This is, sadly, not a shocking revelation but one i am yet again forced to confront and deal with.  Right now i am battling not to feel like a failure, not to feel like i will never be the person i really want to be, that the things about me that i like best are so closely tied to the things about me that i like least that i’ll never untangle the ones i want and the ones i don’t.  It is currently a toss up as to whether or not i can get those voices to settle down.  i am hoping that through writing this they will at least shut up for a second.

i also realized in the course of our conversation last night and my thoughts this morning that there are certain phrases that for me as a slave are excruciating when they land on my ears.  For any slave there are obvious phrases we don’t want to hear “you’ve been bad”, “I don’t want you”, and such.  The one i realized this morning that ranks right up there is “I don’t care.”  This phrase can be followed up with anything “I don’t care” if, or what, or whether.  In this case it was “I don’t care what you eat.”  Without going into too much detail there has been much discussion of diet and health and making different life choices around our house for awhile now and pretty intensely for the last couple of months.  While i understand that i am cared for and about, deeply and profoundly that phrase hit somewhere deep.  i find myself feeling distanced from the whole process by that phrase.  i also realized it was probably spoken in defense because of my passionate stance in our conversation last night and at other times.  i also realize that it does not serve my Owner or my own service if i am alienated from the food choices that are being made in this house.  If i don’t join this path i can’t possibly serve and support the Pretty Lady the way she deserves.  The food choices that she and the boy are both making are going to change a lot about what we do as a family, what is in our fridge, what goes on the plate and if i am not a part of that there is no way for me to give the service i should give.  So when my slave brain hears the phrase “I don’t care what you eat” it panics, it suddenly feels on the outside of something critical and crucial to the care of  its Owner and i feel lost and adrift.  i didn’t even realize the phrase had sent me to this place until i was going over last night’s events in my bed this morning.  i had gotten through the file of ways that i had failed to properly communicate and tried to look at where i could have made different choices and then got to that moment and felt a wash of fear and shame that required me to look deeper and identify what i was feeling and why.  i was terrified that if  She doesn’t care what i eat, She doesn’t care what i do, and certainly doesn’t need my service in this.  If that were true a major area in which i serve and express my love would disappear for me.  How can i be of service if i am not keeping the right foods in the fridge and ensuring that the things She needs are prepared with skill and love in order to be delicious and sustainable?  If She doesn’t need me to be a part of this process what does she need me for and what good am i as a slave if i am not needed?

i hope to get to talk a little more about this with the Pretty Lady today as i am fully aware that she cares a great deal about me…and because i want her to know that, as a slave, if she is choosing a path that seems challenging and requires support i will always…ALWAYS…choose to walk that path as well in order to serve her as best as i can and to take the best care of her property that i can.

mindfulness

In my world of late i feel as though i have been needing to learn…or maybe see is a better word…lessons in mindfulness.  When i stand in the real moments of my life and look at them…experience them…my life is beautiful.  I have deep profound meaningful love…a devoted Owner who accepts my service…a committed connected poly family…a loving and accepting biological family…a good paying  job…a warm happy home.  i am blessed and lucky…truly.  That is why i get intensely frustrated with myself when my mind wanders away from the present and begins to cling to and magnify imagined troubles that don’t actually exist.  i have the capacity to create realities in my head…i think we all do…and i have to be careful what reality i put energy into.  It is such a difficult practice to remain present and grateful when i’m worried about things…my health, my worth, my weight, my job…whatever…these are things that exist all the time.  These are part of ‘real’ life but they are not the biggest things…in fact more often than not they are small…truly insignificant in the face of the abundance of my life.

Tonight the job i give myself…in order to serve my Lady and myself…is to actively make the choice to turn toward abundance rather than scarcity.  i will choose mindfulness and being present in my joyful grateful life rather than fear of things that are not actually happening.  i know i won’t be perfect at it but this is the mission i am lying out for myself and i am committed to doing it.

moments

It feels so good to be taking a moment.  A moment away from work, from commuting, from worrying about work and commuting.  My job has taken up so much space in my life lately it has left me feeling drained and sad and off center.  I have had feelings of self-doubt, self-loathing, fear, all of which add up to bad choices and negativity.  i am not blaming everything on stress from work but i certainly know it plays a part.  When i start to feel like i am not able to hold up my end of service and submission i doubt my worth and when i fall down that particular rabbit hole the results are not good.  That is, at least partly, why this vacation is well timed.  The Pretty Lady and i need time to connect and talk and heal some of the tender spots and i need time to unwind the tight bands of tension that are wrapped around me right now.

i am looking forward to the time, the moments that are to come this week.  i am looking forward to walking down the streets of the city and seeing new places and new things.  i am looking forward to the things i can’t even guess are going to happen and i am looking forward to time alone with the Pretty Lady…time to connect…

i am looking forward to time to run my hands over her skin and smooth tension from tired muscles…to focusing on her…on her body.  i can feel a touch of shyness as i write about wanting her…i want her skin under my strong hands…i want to feel her body relax until she is open to me…i want to press strong fingers into her muscles and then into her cunt…i want to take her…i want to fuck her…i even want to slip some sharp shiny needles under her skin and make her bleed…i rest assured in the knowledge that if she does not want these things she will tell me but for now i am just expressing my wants…my desire…i sometimes hesitate to do this and this seems a time where i should not hesitate…i should step up and reach for what i want…i will step up and use my strong hands and my hard cock and my body and let her feel how much i desire her…how much i want her…

i want those moments this week…i want the moments where i take her and let her feel me…i want to cum inside of her and feel her cum hard around me…i want…i want that connection…and now i let that want sit hot and low inside of me and i embrace it and love it and love myself and love her and offer my desire up to the universe…

whirlwind

The days have just started blending together.  We have all been so busy either with work or the house or whatever it seems like there hasn’t been time to breath.  i feel good about the Pretty Lady and i…about our dynamic…about our M/s, about being her property and what that means for us.  i still struggle with taking correction and having a better emotional reaction when i feel i have caused added stress or disappointment.  i feel myself grow frustrated and angry with myself when i have failed to do something up to standard.  i know there is no other way for me to learn to do better if i am never corrected but i always want the tasks i complete to be above correction…to be perfect.  it doesn’t seem to matter how much i tell myself that there is no such thing as perfection and no possible way for me to be perfect but that doesn’t take away the desire for it.  The problem is when i allow my mind to wander down that path all it does is do damage to the Pretty Lady.  It doesn’t matter that i am beating myself up for my self-perceived wrongs…the blows still land with unintended consequences on the head and heart of my Owner…onto the one person i want never to harm.  It is a perplexing and fascinating struggle to accept with grace the occasional, inevitable correction…to take in the information without internalizing a sense of failure.  i feel as though i am nowhere near mastering this skill and i fear i never will be.  Some part of me knows that i have already worked hard on this and have actually gotten better than i once was but i know i am not yet good enough…and that alone seems to make it almost worse.   i don’t take correction as well as i should so not only do i feel as though i have failed at whatever task it is that is being corrected i compound that feeling by knowing that my emotional response is not what it should be either.  i have not quite seen my way out of this maze yet…but i realize i must because not only does my internal conflict do damage to my Owner and her ability to be a successful dominant it negatively effects the other people around as well.

This last time my being out of sorts helped to contribute to an extremely poorly timed moment of conflict with the boy as well…and has, i have now learned, been causing him additional stress whenever he is confronted with it.  Now i find myself fighting not to question my value…my quality…as a friend, space sharer, person because of the impact my strong emotions can have on those i care about.  i am working hard to let each person’s issues be their own…but damn is my brain screaming to internalize every bad thing i think about myself…it is an old narrative that is ringing in my ears right now and  i just don’t have time for it…but i fear i also don’t have time to properly exorcise it either…i’m hoping this short post will do some good…we shall see…i will close by wishing myself well and trying to use my gentlest internal voice possible…and try and hear the soft voice of the Pretty Lady…telling me i am loved…and cherished…and truly deeply valuable.

the important question

For the last few days the pretty Lady and I have been working on an exercise and it has proven surprisingly challenging and I am trying to identify the source of the challenge for me.  She and I have come up against an issue repeatedly in our time together.  We both get our emotions tangled up sometimes around sex…around desire.  I can’t speak for what goes on in the pretty Lady’s head I can only speak for my process and my hamsters.  I find the murky gray area of speaking my desires and still being a good submissive to be rife with pitfalls and insecurities.  I find myself feeling around for the boundary between saying what I want sexually and not being a pushy or manipulative slave and it’s like trying to find your keys in the dark.

I fumble around trying to find the words or the actions and what they are supposed to look like and the longer it takes me to figure out the more insecure I feel…the more I feel like I shouldn’t be asking…the more I feel like my sexuality is an imposition, a drawback not an enhancement of our connection.  The hamsters start running free and I find myself completely unable to understand why She would want me anyway…and I begin convincing myself that She doesn’t.  Keep in mind this does not happen all the time…the pretty Lady and I have magic between our bodies…she told me that what my body can do is amazing…and I told her anyone can hold a Stradivarius but not everyone can play it.  These moments, the difficult ones, creep up…they invade my brain space and my core and feast on my self doubt.

As a means of trying to conquer the emotional triggers and power we have both given these moments the pretty Lady has directed me that, at an appropriate time, each day I am to respectfully offer myself to her sexually or as a target for her sadism.  I think this is a very good plan, it allows us both to step back from the emotional charge that often comes with such requests for me and for Her.  The funny development is, the asking is extremely difficult for me…far more difficult than I had anticipated.

I find myself shy and tongue tied as I kneel beside her wrestling the words out of my mouth.  It certainly isn’t that I don’t want her to say yes to the offer, and it certainly isn’t that I don’t want to ask.  There are a great many reasons I do want to ask, not least of which is my desire to follow Her directive.  It seems ridiculous since she is the one who has directed me to do this but I fear that she will be angry at my asking, I fear that she will see the question as intrusive, that she will see me that way.  I want to be quite clear that the Lady loves me and she treats her property with dignity and respect.  I hate the idea that this post would paint her in any other light.  She has not done anything to cause me to fear her wrath in this…these are my own poodles yipping about in my brain.

I hope that as the days go by the asking will be easier.  I imagine it will.  I can’t imagine I will stay stuck in this place where my service and my desire but heads and become tangled in frustrating ways.  I know I’ve already done a great deal of work in the unraveling it just seems, some days, that there is always more to untie…

the road traveled and the road ahead

It occurs to me that I have not posted here in almost three weeks.  I find this to be rather unacceptable so I am rectifying the situation, obviously, since there are new words on the digital page.  I have been trying to come up with something to write about the last few days but I find myself befuddled by my own need for profundity.  I want to have something to say not just to say something.  As I write that I realize how full of myself it sounds, as though my somethings to say are so much more meaningful or worthy than other somethings…but such is life.  It’s funny to me how I can look at my words and see the ego in them and simultaneously know  I know how thin that veneer is for me.  Though I have most certainly found myself stronger and more confident and more in love with myself in the last couple of years than ever before I still find myself running into the wall of self-doubt.

Being in service to the pretty Lady has taught me a great deal about myself and has definitely afforded me the opportunity to know myself in ways that I didn’t ever think were possible and with that I have a much more loving and intimate relationship with myself.  The problem I find myself facing comes in those moments when I feel the old doubts creep in the back door and sit down for tea.  I find myself feeling that hollow sensation in my chest that speaks with the creaky voice asking me who I think I am and of what use do I really believe I could be.  I have come to a point where I generally see these voices for what they are, I recognize their faces and don’t let them control my thoughts and emotions but I am not yet completely adept at this practice.  The problem is when they do sneak in and sit down and start trying to talk to me I have a hard time seeing how far I have come.  In that moment I feel like all the work I have done is lost somewhere or worse yet never really existed at all.

Now before we jump to any conclusions I know that these thoughts are not true.  I know I am not back at square one…in fact…I know how far back square one is and that there is no chance of me ever being that person again.  I can almost see the core of light that burns in my center and beyond the seeing of it I can feel it, each day, a little stronger and yet I stumble…I trip…I lose my vision of myself and I become insecure…I doubt my abilities…I doubt my capacity to be good for or too another person or to myself.

I guess when it comes down to it I need to realize that confidence isn’t actually narcissism and self doubt isn’t the end of the world.  I find myself in the ever present situation of requiring some gentleness and allowing myself a moment to see how far I have come and to see that, actually, I am doing quite well.  I never feel comfortable giving myself too much credit…I fear it will stop me from doing the work…that it will turn into complacency.  The trick then becomes being able to see that I have worked hard, I am constantly becoming the person I want to be, and that part of that is leaving room for imperfection.