Shelter From the Storm

It’s after 2:00 am.  I can’t sleep, there’s too much on my mind.  Readers, I warn you….this is not going to be my typical post.  I’m in a state, so bear with me on this one.  It needs to come out. So here goes….

Emotional vulnerability is not my thing.  I rarely open up to people and very seldom do I show true emotion.  I keep my feelings in check until I can deal with them in private.  It’s just how I am wired. This is why submission is such an integral part of me.  In a scene, I can be vulnerable (more so in a physical sense) and I must let go to experience it.  It is a literal manifestation of vulnerability and for a long time, it gave me what I craved.

Until meeting Maestro, my submission was focused exclusively in the physical realm.  I was comfortable to be in a submissive “role” when engaged in a scene with one of my suitors.  But never did I allow myself to become emotionally vulnerable.  My guard was always up, as were my towering walls.  And if I felt someone was about to scale one of my walls, I would simply run.  It is an instinctive defense mechanism.

But Maestro changed all of that.  I felt like I was re-wired in a sense.  For once, I felt safe to be emotional.  To be vulnerable.  I felt protected.  I found myself embracing my suppressed submissiveness.  I began to feel things.  Experience things.  I didn’t run.  I could allow myself to swim in the deep waters, because he had my back.  And I knew that he wouldn’t allow anything to happen to me.  Submission was becoming more than a scene.  It was allowing me to finally become me.

So on this emotional and spiritual journey of mine,  I have learned many things.  I understand faith and grace and unconditional love.  But at the present time, I don’t feel very submissive.  And I am most upset about that.

Looking back at my two marriages, I was the strong one.  I was the one who handled everything.  I had the career and ran the house with a stern hand while raising and nurturing children. And with the crystal clear vision of hindsight, I understand why they ended.  That is not the natural order of things and it was destined for failure.  Upon deep reflection, I feel that I created the environment.  My reluctance to be vulnerable.  My inability to relinquish any form of control.  My need to lead it all, helped convert these two (polar opposite) men I married, into blubbering idiots….dependent on me for every decision.  Dependent on me to handle it all.  My inability to let go…my inability to be vulnerable helped to create an environment of learned helplessness.

And I am terrified that I am once again, subconsciously this time, headed for a similar scenario.

I just lost my mother a month ago.  That’s a pretty catastrophic event to endure and I was there for it all, spending many nights with her in the hospital.  Wanting to be alone with her for the communion of it just being us, but also because I wanted the privacy to be emotional.  And I am having a difficult time letting go.  I am really struggling to grieve.  I don’t think any of my friends or family really see this.  I put on the strong face and work through it.  I can maintain a stoic front for as long as I have to.  But the difference is….I don’t want to “have to”any longer.

In the midst of this, I have pulled away from Maestro.  I feel my instinct to run creeping back into my thoughts.  And I don’t want to run from him.  But I have had so much to handle…mom died…the kids have been terribly sick…I got sick…we were in a car accident (all of this in a 3 week span.)  And I am still caring for my father…still working as the only breadwinner…still getting up every morning and being a single mom. It gets to be too much at times.

Sometimes, I just want to curl up in his arms and know that I am protected.  That everything will be alright.  I want to be the little.  I want to hand over my burdens.  But he is seven hours away and this is when it really sucks to be in a long-distance relationship.  And here is my struggle with my submission.  I have pulled away and pushed him away…telling him I need to cope with things on my own.  I have been distant and in-turn, I feel him becoming distant…which is the opposite of what I want or need.  I am sure I am sending mixed signals, but what I need more than anything is the feeling of protection.  To complicate matters, he has a lot going on in his life right now, too.  So I can’t expect him to make the trip here every weekend.  But I need him.  I don’t want my stoic front to fool him into thinking I don’t.  I do need his strength.

And I need my submission to him, which feels a bit lost in all of this.  But to process, I need it now more than ever.  And part of that submission is being honest with myself and with him by admitting that I do need him.  I need his guidance.  I need his level-head…and his way of making me laugh…I need how he simplifies my life just by talking me through whatever task is in front of me…whatever I am facing.

I need shelter from the storm.

Not a word was spoke between us there was little risk involved
Everything up to that point had been left unresolved
Try imagining a place where it’s always safe and warm
“Come in” He said
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm”.

I was burned out from exhaustion buried in the hail
Poisoned in the bushes and blown out on the trail
Hunted like a crocodile ravaged in the corn
“Come in” He said
“I’ll give you shelter from the storm”.

Advertisements

“Sister Christian”

Thought I’d lure you in with the title!  Who can resist that?

The sheer mention of the Night Ranger classic takes me back to a simpler time…when the biggest dilemma in my life revolved around which acid-wash jeans to wear to school. When my biggest inconvenience was having to fast-forward through the songs I didn’t like on my worn-out Footloose soundtrack cassette.  When my hopes and dreams were as big as my hair. It was a time when my burdens were few.

Life was good.

And Sister Christian was the song.

What a venture down memory lane…

If you will recall, I recently wrote about meeting one of my readers in person.  That may not seem like a big deal to some of you.  For me it was huge.  The fact that I write about D/s along with spirituality, attracts a mixed group of followers.  This particular reader finds herself on a similar journey within her marriage.  So we do have common ground, but within very different contexts.  She is married and engages in D/s with her husband.  Until recently finding the One, my Maestro, I went through men like I went through those acid-washed jeans in 1983…fast-forwarding to the ones I liked.  Thank God, I found Him in the midst of the chaos.  And thankfully I am finding what I seek spiritually, reconnecting with God.

I was initially nervous about meeting her in person.  Like I mentioned before, there is a safety and comfort of writing behind a computer screen…putting your deepest, in my case-darkest, thoughts out there for the world to see.  So the thought of meeting a reader, face-to-face, was a bit unsettling at first…there is nowhere to hide.  This is where the shit gets real.  And it did.

She was an absolute delight.  We met in a nearby restaurant and immediately hugged, like long-lost friends do.  The conversation was non-stop from the moment we got together.  She is a brilliant woman with several degrees, one of which is a PhD in Theology.  How fascinating.  We dished on everything from D/s…to kids…to marriage…to all of the different kinks we’ve read about on here….to spirituality….to business ventures….to health and wellness…to the Bible….to discipline…to healing spiritually…and all the way back around to the subject of D/s.

We eventually went to my house where we could have some privacy to talk in more depth.  We were standing in my kitchen when she asked about different blog characters.  I provided a bit more detail about those she asked about.

She then said, “Tell me where you have found God in all of this.”

Wow…that’s the question, isn’t it?  Where did I find God in the midst of my turbulent descent into BDSM?

My answer, “Everywhere.”  Which is so true.  As I reflected on the question, I realized that He has been everywhere. First and foremost, as my protector…I did some risky things in the beginning, scary things, things I haven’t even written on here, and through His grace, I came out of it safely.  And then He has served as my guide…helping me to discern those who were worthy, from those who weren’t.  Giving me the insight to know when to let go.  And then as a father…forgiving me of my trespasses. loving me unconditionally as I sorted all of this debauchery out.  So in a strange sort of way, God has been the prototype, the example of the ultimate Dom.  Which is completely her line of thought.  She just helped me arrive at the same place by posing the question.

You know, she helped me through a lot things.  And I don’t feel this was a coincidental meeting at all.  I feel that we were meant to meet….meant to be friends.  She is an amazing woman and I have deep respect for her.  I admire her commitment to her husband, to her family, to her faith.  I know I will learn things from her.  I realize that our meeting was yet another one of those God-moments in my life.  Despite her background in theology, her knowledge of the Bible, and her deep and unwavering belief, she was not “judgey” at all.  Like me, she is who she is and she is a real person. She is a person who understands my journey, without critical judgement.  A person convicted in her faith that didn’t try to condemn me for my unorthodox path.  And she didn’t try to convince me to drink the Kool-Aid.  There was no Kool-Aid.  All she was offering was friendship.

And because I felt a sister-like kinship with her immediately, I am sure she understands my choice for the post song.

So my dear friend…my Sister Christian, thank you for the visit.

And many thanks for the gift of your friendship.

Watching the Wheels

“Watching the Wheels” is one of my favorite songs of all time.

John Lennon died on my eight birthday. I always felt a kinship…a responsibility to remember him because we share a day.  And to me, this is one of his best.

I find this song appropriate as I prepare for my day tomorrow. A few posts back I wrote about a reader who reached out to me as Maestro and I were about to watch Exodus. Her message struck a chord with me as we are on a similar journey…both of us seeking God and enlightenment in our D/s relationships. And tomorrow, I will have the opportunity to meet this lovely woman.

As serendipity would have it, she is visiting a nearby state and is willing to make the drive here to meet me. I have to admit, I am a bit nervous. Yes, I know….I’ve done things far scarier than this that involve a variety of gentlemen and a variety of scenarios. But this is a different kind of nervous. After all, outside of a handful of friends and close acquaintances, no one knows my real identity. On the blog, I am anonymous…equipped with a laptop and a pseudonym.  I can express my thoughts freely.

And tomorrow, I will sit face to face with a reader (who I might add is also sharing her identity) to discuss this tumultuous journey of mine. To discuss the experiences within her journey (hers is a bit different, as she is exploring D/s in her established marriage). To discuss where we find God in all of this. How we seek solace in the guidance and direction of our partners and ultimately in The Almighty.

I am excited to meet my new friend.  I am eager to hear about her journey.  I hope that we are able to glean much from each other’s experiences.  It will be refreshing to talk with someone who sees the dynamic in a similar light as I do.

 

So I leave you with this…

People say I’m crazy, doing what I’m doing
Well they give me all kinds of warnings, to save me from ruin
When I say that I’m okay, well they look at me kinda strange
“Surely, you’re not happy now, you no longer play the game”

Pennies in the Spaghetti Jar

Warning:  This post will be different.  It will be deep and reflective.  Soul-baring.

Just sayin’.  No kink today. Consider yourself warned…

It’s not in my nature to put my innermost feelings out there.  I am an outgoing, bubbly person who will talk to most anyone.  I am confident.  I love meeting new people.  But I typically keep them at surface level.

I love to dive deeper into others, just not into myself.

I have always been a bit guarded.  My mother is primarily the culprit.  From an early age, she made me suspicious and suspecting of people and their motives.  And although I am friends with many, I trust few.  Which leads me to the point of this post….

Here I am.

Looking for a person to dominate me.  To take control of me.  To consume me.

Me, the one who has trust issues.

Me, the one who likes to keep things on a surface-level.  Not too deep.  Deep enough to swim, but I have to be able to touch the bottom.

And I have had some great experiences.  I have learned so much about myself.

I know what I like by trying things I don’t.  I feel this is the best teacher for me.

I know that I am capable of pushing some serious limits.  And even with betrayal, I know I have the capacity to trust deeply.

Which leads me to this…

I, who scorns the concept of true love, who scoffs at the mention of it….

I have an immense capacity to love another.

And this epiphany did not come from falling in love.  It did not come from any of my suitors.

It came to me.  Little old me.  This gift of realization.

I realize that my real need is not to be dominated.  Or to be controlled.

My need is to give myself completely to someone I feel is worthy of me.

Someone worthy of my love.

My need is not to be loved and adored, but to love and adore another.

Hopelessly.

Shamelessly (gosh it’s painful to write this word…but it’s true)

Completely.

Submission to love.

And it all came to me this morning.  Crystal clear.

My middle child was sick today, so I stayed home with him.  We were returning from a morning errand and ran into my next door neighbor.  She is an elderly woman, who obsessively sweeps her driveway.  It gives her purpose.  (Wish she would do mine…I am sure it must bother her.)

We began talking and my son showed her his collection of coins.  He is saving for yet another Lego set, and he is proud of his resolve.

She said, “I’d like to add to that.  Give me just a minute.”

She disappeared into her house and reemerged with a spaghetti jar filled with coins.  She held the jar as if it were priceless.  As if it were an heirloom.  And then…

She proudly handed the jar to my son, who was giddy with excitement.

She told me with tears in her eyes, “This was his jar.  I want your son to have it.”

“His” jar?  And then I recalled who he was.  Her son.  The one who committed suicide when he was a teenager.  The one she still grieves for so many years later.

It dawned on me in some way, this jar that she has kept for almost 30 years, signified her love for her son.  It was a reminder of him.

And she just gave it all away.

Completely.

To a little six year old, who was overjoyed by the gesture.

So what does this have to do with submission?  What does any of this have to do with my journey?

I realized at that moment that I need more than a mere scene.  More than a scenario.  I need to give all of myself to someone.

I need to purge my soul into someone.

I need to hand over with unabashed feeling, my jar of coins.

What freedom I feel in knowing my task.  (And it’s true, most subs love a task)

Knowing now, what it is that I truly seek.

My eyes are open.  And so is my heart.

This is going to be an interesting journey.  spaghetti jar