A while back … what seems like a very long time ago, You began identifying me as Your fucktoy. The word made me uncomfortable – so uncomfortable that I had difficulty doing nothing more than agreeing with You. I expect that You knew this. You didn’t ask me to say it for at least a month, and it may have been longer than that. I had become used to hearing it by the time You asked me to speak it. Saying it then was as challenging as hearing it had been at the start.
Dealing with fucktoy was rough because that word fuck has always been a “bad” word. A word I only said when furious or in a great deal of pain. There was nothing positive about it. DH knew if I was, to use his vernacular, dropping F bombs, that he had better tread very lightly. It took a great deal of time for me to view it as a good thing – to see it as something I wanted to be.
Now this. This word cunt, perhaps the most offensive term a woman can be called. A word that I have never used. A word that when said on a very rare occasion by DH, conversation will halt, I will raise an eyebrow and he will apologize. A word that is only ever assigned to a person if they are being insulted. You had me say that word about myself and I felt dirty. I don’t know how else to describe it, and believe me, I’ve spent some time working on this. Even with everything You and I have said and done with each other, I was embarrassed to speak that way in front of You – ashamed to refer to myself in that way.
I had barely choked out the words. Still awash in the emotion they invoked and You said a thing that I want to pretend I didn’t hear … It will get easier the more you say it.
Today I am grateful for: progress
Today’s funny moment: What kind of computer do you have … and please, don’t say ‘a white one’.
Sad moment: yet another phone call from the school
Water: 4 liters
Corset: 24.5 am, 24 pm
Hood: 1 hour