Have you ever been alone in a crowded room? Have you ever been alone in a relationship? Have you ever been alone while in bed with your spouse?
Until recently, in the historic perspective of my life, I was alone. I heard the word “we” often. We better get to work. We have to do something about his behavior. We need to pick up more detergent.
In all of these cases, and many more, the We really meant you – You better get to work because the team is going to miss the due date and it’ll be blamed on you. You have to come up with and implement a strategy that will get the little man back on track. You need to remember to pick up detergent at the market.
Then my Boy came into my life. He has said we from the very beginning. I’m sure of it, though I did not hear it until very recently. He and I were talking about one of my persistently fluctuating health issues. He said, and I will never forget this, which is saying something if you know anything about my memory, he said “We still don’t know what it is.”
He meant that we. He meant it as it is defined in the OED. He meant the two of us. He meant we will do this together, no matter what it takes. He meant I am by your side. He meant we are partners, facing whatever life brings.
I still hear the echos of that we. The we that was so very different from any we before. I hear it when I lay in the dark. I hear it when I obsess about all the things in life that are beyond my control. I heard it today when the little man asked how I was and I told him honestly. He replied “Maybe you should go to the doctor.” I thought, There’s that you, again. Then I heard we and was reminded of all the promise held by those two letters.
Today, I read this brilliant post on fet by @TheFerrett. (For those without fet accounts, find it here, if you’re interested.) He talks about love languages and how acting from a place of your partner’s love language instead of your own can, at first, feel awkward.
I am one who practices empathy on a regular basis – sometimes voluntarily, often not and it seems the involuntary empathy is always from other’s pain. I want everyone to be happy. If happiness isn’t possible, I want the people I love to know I stand by their side.
If my partner needs to explore the world of, oh I don’t know, green grapes, let’s say. I think green grapes are an absurd, ridiculous waste of time, energy, and money, because hey, what did green grapes ever teach me and you’re only going to flush them down the toilet (metaphorically) in a few hours anyway. Being a loving partner, I not only support their eating of green grapes but I seek out new varieties. I send them hyperlinks to Green Grape Enthusiast blogs. I make the attempt to understand the basics.
This is what it is to be an active partner. I do not force my views of green grapes on my partner. This won’t change how they feel about grapes. All it will do is make me look like a selfish clod who has a closed mind. If I tell them how stupid grapes are every time they talk about it, they won’t share that part of themselves with me anymore. My partner won’t stop loving, eating, trying, reading about grapes. They will do it when I’m not around.
This is how walls are built. This is how relationships fail. I guess what I am saying is, I get it. I get what @TheFerrett is talking about: Practice empathy. Be there for your partners, not in the way you want to be or in the way that is comfortable for you. Be there in the way theyneed you to be.
Training makes my horny. I had forgotten. I have felt bad for so long I nearly forgot I had lady bits. I trained today and it was as if my body said “Oh! That’s right! There they are! I remember those. Thanks for reminding me. Now that they’re awake let’s do something. What? What do you mean we can’t? Well … fine then. You do what you want but they’re here and I’m gonna make sure you don’t forget that for a very long time.”
Yup. Sounds about right. Oddly, I don’t mind. I’m just glad I feel well again.
I had a scene once. I had been playing pretty much all day..with a spanking here or there with close friends.
Then another close friend that I trusted agreed to single tail me. And it hurt…and I cried. It didn’t hurt in the ouch too hard way. It hit something cathartic I cant explain and the tears just flowed. I trusted my friend, my walls were down and the sensation of crack searing my flesh was over powering. Like it hit my soul.
And I cried out and I cried–the tears flowed and I felt silly that I couldn’t stop them. I wasn’t sad–it was more a relief emotion.
And my friend showed instant concern and care–softly rubbing my back, whispering softly, asking me if I was ok.
My response shocked me. But with some sorta bravado and a giggle as the tears continued like a waterfall…I asked “Do tears scare you?”
And with a hint of a smile, and a very Domly voice commanded me to “Turn Around!” (That was hot!!)
And we went deeper–three rounds deep until I was uncontrollably and freely sobbing. To say it was wonderful to be able to trust and open up that much is an understatement.
Sometimes when I cry now, I remember this day. Not all tears are bad.
This made me think about the times I have cried during play. About how it makes me feel that I’m weak. About how ashamed I am that I failed to be strong. About how crying makes me feel less “hard core”. About how this often happens with my back turned. About how I dread the moment I turn around because I know there are people watching and I’m a mess.
There were several comments on the post, a good many of which stated that the one commenting had never cried during play usually followed with “I wish I could”. Not a single person said they didn’t want to cry, or that they are embarrassed when they do. A few said they find it, or would find it, cathartic. Cathartic!? I don’t get that at all. How is failure perceived as catharsis?
I can remember the early days of play when there were no tears. I wonder what’s changed. Is the play significantly more challenging now? Is it somehow more emotional? Is the pain that much more intense? Am I no longer guarded? Is it a combination of all of these? Is it something else entirely? I wonder if I could prevent the tears if I wanted to, but then, they aren’t a conscious choice. There have been times that I’ve not been aware of them. It just … happens. How do I prevent something that I’m not consciously aware of? Should I even try? Does it matter?
We have observed some situations in Our play that scare me. These things also seem to be arousing. I have been giving this a great deal of thought. I’m wondering if it is the fear or the thing behind it: The knowledge that You own me and can do whatever You wish with me.
I know it was, in fact, You exercising Your ownership of me when I struggled with asking for the shocker, that was incredibly erotic and had me all wet and bothered. Pussy and brain were vehemently opposed. Being property, being Yours, won. I believe it always will.
……………………………. Today I am grateful for: better living through pharmaceuticals Today’s funny moment: Sitting with LM in a treatment room waiting for the doctor “There I go again” (He said this with a heavy sigh) “What’s wrong, Bud?” “Nothing, Mom. It’s another erection.” Sad moment: The decline of my back with housework Protocol: n/a Water: 5 liters Corset: not worn – back pain Hood: n/a