Faith, Restored…

Restored….

Things are much better now. I’ve had a trying start to 2015. I didn’t realize how much I’d distanced myself from everyone, especially Maestro. I guess it’s how I cope. Instead of reaching out to him for help, for support…I pushed him farther and farther away. My last post was my way of reaching out and initially, he didn’t take it well. I can certainly understand his perspective. Instead of just telling him how much I was hurting, I turned away from him and turned to my writing.

He was hurt that I didn’t open up to him, but being the strong man he is…he was able to put his own feelings aside and focus on me.  We talked for hours.  He helped me through the darkness I was feeling.  He helped me identify my triggers.  He helped me understand his triggers.  And at the end of our conversation, a talk that lasted into the wee hours of Friday morning, he made an announcement.

“I am coming up this weekend. I need to see you.”

We were planning a visit for Valentine’s weekend, so this was an exciting surprise.  At first, I worried that he would not be able to visit two weeks in a row.  It is a 7-hour drive, one way, after all.  But he was undeterred by time or distance.  He still planned to be here for Valentines, but he wanted to make sure I was okay.  He wanted to be there for me.  He wanted to make sure “we” were okay.  And being a man of his word…

At 1:15 am, Saturday morning, my Maestro was here.

One I saw him, everything was okay.  I immediately felt the protection and support I needed just by his presence.  We had a great weekend…quiet and relaxing.  And he is so good with my kids.  He understands how challenging it is for me to give them all of the attention they need, while trying to work and keep the house, and care for my father.  So he senses where I need the support and jumps in to help.  He keeps me calm and grounded when things become chaotic.

And he also knows how to give me the release I so badly need.  And in my recent stressed state, he understood just how far to push me, without going too far.  He knows what I need.

We are stronger than ever.  This was our first real challenge.  When I was falling he came to the rescue and caught me in those big strong arms of his.  When my problems were too much, he carried me.  When we began drifting apart, he closed the distance between us and showed up on my doorstep.

When I began to doubt everything, he restored my faith.

I learned from this experience…I learned that I need to trust his strength.  Trust his judgement.  And most of all, trust him to be the man I know he is.  The One who can handle it all.  The One who holds my fragile heart in his strong and worthy hands.

All my love to you, M.  See you again soon.  

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”.

Re-Birth Birthday

Maestro and I share December birthdays. Mine is this coming Monday, his is later in the month. So, we hatched a plan. Why not plan a getaway to see each other in between our special days, to celebrate?

In less than 10 days, we will be together again! I can hardly wait…

Next Saturday, Mary Poppins comes to stay with the kiddos, and I board a plane at “oh-six-hundred” to see my Maestro.
I can’t think of a better gift than to be able to spend time with him. Kid-free. Relaxed. In the moment.
Together.

This year, I find that my birthday is like a re-birth of sorts. Finding myself. Enjoying the gift of true love. Giving myself to him. Letting go of control.

It’s a gift of self-acceptance.

Thanks to the One, that in his wisdom and guidance has illuminated the way…leaving the candles on the birthday cake to burn a bit longer so that I may clearly see what’s in front of me…

Knowing that I don’t have to close my eyes and make a wish when I blow out the candles.

Because my wish has already come true.

COUNTDOWN IS ON!!!

Patience

It has been 40 days since I have seen my Maestro. But He is coming to spend Thanksgiving with me and my family.  I cannot wait for Him to get here next week.  He has been traveling for work for a month now, spending considerable time in the Midwest.

This Southern girl can’t wait for Him to darken her door so that she may show Him proper Southern hospitality.

In the meantime, our talks have taken on a deeper significance.  There is something to be learned from long distance relationships. Although we are not in each other’s presence, the depth of our connection continues to grow.  I find myself sharing everything with Him, a new phenomenon for me.  Not keeping anything from Him.  Telling Him my thoughts…my struggles…my insecurities…and also sharing the good stuff, the silly stuff, the boring stuff and (of course) the naughty stuff.

Yesterday, in the middle of the day, via text, I shared a scenario that was on my mind.  It was a bit detailed and it was very “involved” and very naughty.  I won’t share the specifics, but use your kinky imagination.  Your very kinky and creative imagination…

Maestro replied with this:

“I like your naughty thoughts and I like where you went with this. There is no doubt in my head that this scenario will play itself out sometime in our future…There will be things that I will do to you that will make this seem tame and will pale in comparison.  But everything in its own time and place…The taking of you will be slow and sweet.  Have no doubt about that.”

I was in the grocery store when I received His reply.  In the frozen foods section.  I found myself blushing as I read it, despite the chill from the freezers surrounding both sides of me.

And I totally forgot why I had ventured down that aisle in the first place.

The Man knows how to get my attention.  From thousands of miles away.

I found myself reading the message a few times more…each time I read it, it made me more impatient to see Him.  To be in His presence.  To feel His arms around me.

Sigh….

Guess I need to be patient.  Not a strength of mine.  But I am learning…it’s part of this wonderful journey.

Said, woman, take it slow
And it’ll work itself out fine
All we need is just a little patience
Said, sugar, make it slow
And we’ll come together fine
All we need is just a little patience
Patience

Longing and Belonging

I have a deep appreciation for all music. In my opinion some of the best songs were written in the 1950’s, when idealism and hope were alive and thriving.
This song has such a deep meaning.

No matter where…no matter when.

Whether traveling to warm desert sands or the Dells of Wisconsin, this perfect feeling of belonging to someone transcends time and distance.

Safe travels, my -M-

The Sub-Whisperer

We were having such a lovely evening together.

Such connection.

I am a hater…let’s read that again, HATER, of public displays of affection.

I always find a way to avoid it.

No hand-holding…I’ll pretend to fidget with something in my purse to keep my hands occupied.

No hugging or embracing…I will fake a coughing fit that could bring medical personnel from a two-mile radius to avoid this in public

And no kissing…I will keep coughing if needed, but I may throw in a fake phone call for good measure.

But this time, when He reached for my hand I didn’t fidget.

I let go of me and all of my weird quirks and grabbed His hand.

His big strong hand.

And yes the PDA was slightly uncomfortable at first, but I quickly acclimated.

We did it all…out in the open.  Hugging, kissing and hand holding.

Dinner was perfect.  He is a natural gentleman, pulling out my chair when we arrived at the table.  The server was impressed and forgot herself when she said out loud, “Awwww. Real chivalry.  Sweet!”

We noshed off of each other’s plates as if we had been together for years.  The conversation and the energy was so intense, we made the server a bit uncomfortable.  We could tell she was afraid to interrupt us to ask if we needed anything.

After dinner we talked.  And talked.  And talked.  We were never without something to say to each other.

We arrived back at his room and we laid across the bed and talked.  And talked.

Did I mention that he drove SEVEN hours (VII in Roman numerals) to see me.

Yes, SEVEN hours one way.

We began kissing and it was amazing.  The closeness.  The intensity.  The undeniable depth.

He was in no hurry to move to anything more.  We just laid there and kissed.  And talked.

Each kiss drew me in deeper.  I knew this was different.,,what I was feeling was different.

He was different.  I could be myself around Him.

Just me…

He whispered in my ear, “You please me…I love how you respond to my kiss…to my touch.  Now, I would like for you to take your dress off.”

Without thought.  Without trepidation, I removed my dress.

I had no inhibition.  None of the usual body-anxiety that I typically feel when undressing in front of someone for the first time.

I confidently stood in front of him.

Completely naked.

And he was still fully dressed.

He sat there and just took me in.  Looking at every square inch of my body.  Touching me as he carefully studied each curve, each bend, each edge, each blemish on my skin.

Even the scars.

Even the stretch marks, remnants from three children.

Again…I had no reservation.  I felt comfortable.

I felt beautiful.

And for once, I truly felt at peace in the moment.

I reflected on what was happening as it happened.  It was almost as if I stepped out of the moment to observe the moment.

And during this reflection, I began to think of Him like a horse whisperer.

He had a way of taming me…but not breaking me.

He knew how to speak my language.  He knew how to make me comfortable and at ease.

He also knew my issues with trust.  My instinct to run.

But I chose not to…not this time.

I was steadfast and still

But without a bridle.

Not saddled.

Not tied.

Not whipped.

I was free to go.  Free to roam.

But I wanted to stay.  I wanted to be in His presence.

I craved his touch.  His kiss.

His approval.

The evening carried on and he continued to explore every part of me.  His attention to detail was beyond overwhelming.  He knew how to bring me over the edge in ways I had not experienced.

And he relished in doing so.

Over and over.

And over.  And over.

He was completely focused on figuring me out from the inside out.  His pleasure was in seeing me (and hearing me…my God I was sooo loud) enjoy Him.

His focus went on for hours.

He would whisper in my ear, stroke my hair.

Clutch my throat.

And make my body shake uncontrollably with pleasure.

Sublime in His style of dominance.

And knowing how I craved His touch, He saw fit to give me a proper spanking.

Knowing just how I wanted it.

This time, I am shameless…

Shameless to admit to you and everyone, that I have fallen.

I am under the spell of this “sub-whisperer”

Finally understanding that what I have been missing is Him.

And as I spend more time with this man…this gift, I realize more and more that what I seek from my journey is more than kink.  More than a scene.

I want the full dynamic.

The 24/7.

The mundane and the erotic.

The vanilla and the kink.

The public displays of affection.

And of course…

The whispers.

His whispers…

“Faith requires following the power of a whisper.”Shannon Alder

“You know I can’t let you slide through my hands”

The Runner

You know…I think I will break tradition and write about someone different.

No gentlemen callers.

No Dom prodigies

No gangsters, outlaws, or coaches…

Today’s post is about a runner.

When I think of a runner, I think of someone disciplined.  Devoted to their sport.

Most runners are over-achievers, perfectionists. type-A personalities.

Many have established running routines.  They rarely miss a day.  They are driven by their need to run.

Although unorthodox in her methodology, this runner is no different.

She rarely misses the opportunity to run.

She’s a sprinter.  Able to run extremely fast for short spurts of time, to get ahead of the pack.  Leaving others far behind.

She’s a distance runner.  Able to run for long distances and for long periods of time…always ensuring that no one is too close to her lead.

She’s a cross-country/all terrain runner.  Able to run wherever she needs to.  Regardless of the environment, no matter how rocky, unstable, uncertain…she finds a way to run through it.

Her resolve is relentless.

But unlike the runners who run for sport, this runner is compelled.  She is addicted to the run.

For her it is an escape.

You are probably thinking…most runners do run for an escape, a break from their daily existence.

She runs to escape the things she fears most…

Not a monster…real or imaginary.

Not a person.

Not her past.

She runs to escape her future.  

She runs from what could be…

She runs from the things she perceives to be “too good to be true”

She runs from the people that make her feel something on a deeper level.

She runs from the beautiful possibility of true and everlasting love.

She runs and runs and runs.

Never looking back….

But never in sight of the finish line…

As there is none.

There is no victory in her race.  

In order to win, she must first lose

Lose control…

Lose herself in another.

To do so, she must slow down…

She must stop running.

And as I write this, she prepares for yet another run…

Her eyes locked in a gaze straight ahead

Sprinting to gain the lead….

Afraid to see what was beside her.

And I ran, I ran so far away
I just ran, I ran all night and day
I couldn’t get away

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