Monday, December 3, 2018

When tragedy strikes

Last week was a very hard week. 

At first I was going to ask Jason if I could take this week off from blogging, because I’ve needed to withdraw and regroup. But after further reflection, I realize I need to write about this, and I know this post will be a bit of a diversion from my usual posts. 

Last week was the final week of our kitchen renovation. So I had no sink or fridge access or stove while feeding a large family. It worked out (and our kitchen is now done!) but it was stressful. Then my kids got sick…every single one of them. These things come up, though, and you handle them. That’s what we do. But then I got news that devastated me.

Friends of ours lost their child in a tragic car accident. He was a senior in high school. A teen-ager. Just like my babies. My heart ached for my friends. 

I did what any good friend would do… reached out in support and prayer, ready to help with whatever they needed. I took some time off from my work and didn’t go online much. I needed to regroup. Grieve. I was quiet throughout the week, processing. Praying. Jason and I kept up with the normal flow of things. 

Friday night was the wake. There were so many people in attendance, the line to get into the funeral home wrapped all around outside, and the three hours it took us to get in felt like a sort of pilgrimage. My heart broke for the children who showed up in droves. They reminded me so much of my own babies, mourning the loss of a friend, comforting each other. And when I got to our friends, all I could do was say, “I’m so, so sorry. I love you,” and hold on as we wept together. 

Some of you, those who’ve read my blog for some time, may remember I lost my own father in a tragic car accident. I always grieve his loss at the holidays, and I felt that loss so keenly over the past week. 

Jason was home with our children, as he didn’t really know the people who lost their son the way I did and I went with my closest friends from my church. When I came home, he was ready for me. 

He asked how I held up. He asked how it went. He asked if I needed daddy time, or stress relief, or for him to hold me for a little while. I didn’t really understand it at the time, but I told him no. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want stress relief. I didn’t want to be held, or even touched. It confused me a little, but it was a very clear need of mine that I needed to retreat even from him. Jason gets me. We communicate openly and honestly and with such regularity, that although it surprised him a little, he respected that. He said, “Okay. I’m here when you need me.”

The next morning was the funeral. The funeral was far harder than even the wake had been. 

I arrived early and sat with my friends. The church grew so packed there was standing room only. The sheer amount of people who showed up to mourn the loss of this boy, to celebrate his life, and to pray for his family, was overwhelming. I wept for the children that came to mourn their friend, for my friends who now face the holidays without their youngest son, and for the certain knowledge that this life is temporary. That one day I will face more loss, for none of us escapes death or tragedy. Seeing a child pass away is such a vivid, painful reminder of our mortality. 

It was a beautiful, heartbreaking ceremony. 

I came home, and Jason asked again if I needed him. I told him no, not yet. I told him I couldn’t talk about it...that I needed to, but I wasn't ready. Again, he was confused but respectful of my need for space. Honestly, even I was confused. 

My kitchen was done, so I put it together, then I threw myself headlong into a thorough purge of my house. I wasn’t really sure why I needed to, but it was incredibly therapeutic. I’ve read that decluttering our lives with things we no longer need or love helps us make peace with the past. For me, it helped me not only make peace with my past but bring clarity to the present. Jason, once again, seemed to intuitively understand this. He brought the donations to the car for me, and even drove to the thrift store and carried it all in with me. He praised me for bringing order and beauty to our home, and that meant a lot to me because I bask in his praise like sunshine. Throughout the weekend, he kept telling me he loved me and thanking me for everything I did. 

A few times yesterday he asked if I needed my daddy. Instead of retreating, I began to open up a little. I said, “Yes, daddy,” and he hugged and held me. 

Then yesterday, I finally talked to him. I told him everything, about the wake and funeral, what I felt and thought, what happened and how it impacted me. We talked about so many things. Our faith. Our children. Our relationship. Our past. Our future. We talked for hours, and in the end all I could do was give thanks for the gift of my husband.

I began craving the connection of submitting to him. Of his dominance. He made me kneel, but there was no spanking involved. Instead of putting me over his knee, he let me rest my head on his lap and tell him what was on my heart. 

I didn’t realize until this morning why I needed to retreat. Why I needed to turn inward. At the end of the day, though he’s my Dom, the person I love more than life itself, though I adore everything about that man, Jason is a human being. Mortal, like all of us. And there will come a day when one of us has to say good-bye to the other. I was afraid at first I was internalizing my grief, burying it in a way that’s unhealthy. I wasn’t, though. Instead, I was turning to my faith. I don’t often speak much of my faith on this blog, because my readership is wide, and I accept that we all have different walks of life. I am a woman of faith, though, and during this past week, I needed the strength beyond what even my husband could give. 

This morning I woke up early. I turned to Jason and said, “I need a check-in this morning. Can we check in later?” He squeezed my hand and said, “Yes. Of course. Always.” 

Even though it may not seem like we were living our D/s life through all of this, we were. So much. The beauty of all this is the mutual give and take. Self-giving love. He was prepared to give me comfort and guidance. We’ve practiced honest communication so long that I was able to tell him what I needed and when, and he was able to respect that. 
Source: Picassa

There is no such thing as perfection. but every day there is something to give thanks for. Today, I give thanks for Jason, for loving me and guiding me and caring for me. For being my Dom. And I give thanks to you, my readers, for listening. Reading. Reaching out to me among your own struggles and pain and letting me know that I’m not alone.

Monday, November 26, 2018

Holidays, Routines, and Keeping it all together

As the holidays approach, I find myself busier and busier. Pulled in so many directions, my routines thrown off, the demands of travel and family take their toll. Every single year I try to prepare myself a little earlier, to simplify gifts and streamline the necessity of running into stores, so we have more time to enjoy the traditions and comforts of the season. But no matter how much preparation I make, I still do find myself stressed at one point or another. Maybe we have unexpected guests. Maybe an illness hits my family and we have to adjust. Maybe someone at Jason’s work gets sick, and he has to take on additional hours. The one constant predictable in this busy life is that things are unpredictable. 

One of the biggest struggles of any Dom/sub couple is achieving consistency in the dynamic. There are oh so many reasons for this. 

For one, our dynamics are not commonplace enough that we can often share with our friends or family, so the necessity to keep things secret sometimes means that we do what I sometimes do with “very important things” I find and “put in a special place so I don’t lose it.” Out of sight, out of mind. Often, women are the ones who ask for this dynamic, and we women are trained from a very early age to put the needs of others before our own. So when the holidays approach and our families need us, we have a tendency to neglect our own self-care (and this includes our submissive needs). 

But when our dynamics are in full swing, when we’re in our respective roles with expectations and accountability, when our needs are met, we often thrive. We are often better able to meet the needs of others when our own needs are met first. 

So while others are advising about Christmas budgets and planning meals and deal hunting and goal setting for the new year, here in my little corner of blogland, I’m going to give you my perspective on how to keep the joy in your dynamic over the holidays. 

Establish routines 

Submissives crave structure. Routines and rituals help form the framework. I wrote more about that HERE

What are the routines that might work for your family? Here, in our house, I get up before Jason every day. Our routine has shifted over the years, and now he gets up a few hours after I do to help the kids with their morning routines, as early morning is my prime writing time. I work in the morning, then when I’m done I head up to check-in with him before the rest of my day begins. Here, before I work I write my daily to-do list and sketch out my agenda for the day. This daily list has my family tasks, work tasks, and self-care list, and a timeline for how I’ll plan my day. I bring this to him to look over so he knows where I’ll be and what my goals are today. We go over it and sometimes he adjusts things. (Interested in what I use to plan my day? I've been using various versions of the Happy Planner for a while, but also have started using the 90x goal system).   

I kneel. It helps me get in the right headspace. After we go over my list for the day, he puts me over his knee and asks me my rules, then he spanks me. It’s just a centering maintenance session, and helps me stay submissive and focused. This is what we do most days, though it’s not uncommon to miss a day here or there. Sundays, we don’t often do this until the afternoon. Sometimes when he’s home from work we go over our days. Sometimes I have an evening check-in as well, sometimes I have “daddy time” before bed when I tell him everything on my mind, but the most consistent routine of all is the morning check-in. He puts on my bracelet with my “daddy’s girl” charm, and I go about my day. 

This is what works for us after years of trialing different routines. 

Do you have a routine? A weekly check-in night? Is your current routine working for you, or does it need to be adapted? Our lives are ever-changing, so it’s important to adapt our routines from time to time. Is it time to establish one? Some couples use apps, some email or texts, some journal. Whatever it is that appeals to you, make this a priority. Dominants, this very well may be the greatest gift you give your submissive. Submissives, don’t neglect your self-care to the point of not asking for what you need. If having a routine appeals to you, bring it up respectfully and ask that you begin one. 

Open up Lines of Communication 

I’m going to be writing a bit more about communication soon, but for now I’d like to suggest we find ways to communicate more clearly. During the holiday season, when people are busier, when we indulge a bit more than we normally do and sometimes our self-control slips, when privacy is at a premium with travel and guests, it’s essential we find ways to communicate with one another. 

Do we find time to talk to our dominant or submissive? Do we have hopes or fears that we’ve hidden and not discussed? Are we craving that Dom/sub connection but we’re afraid to ask? Submissives, the actual work of submitting is incredibly difficult work. If we can’t even bring ourselves to ask for our needs, I’m not sure we can ever bring ourselves to do that hard work of submitting. Asking for our needs to be met sets us up for disappointment. We don’t want to be rejected or hurt, or brought to a place of vulnerability and left there. But if we want to grow, it’s essential we communicate. 

Communication doesn’t just mean we ask for what we want, though. It also means we tell our dominants when they make us happy. We praise them for the hard work they do. We ask for help if we need it. Essentially, we take stock of what’s on our hearts and don’t hide it. 

Consider a gift

With the holidays approaching, is there a gift you might consider that might help your dynamic? My two favorite things Jason gave me are my collar and my charm bracelet. The collar is a locking one I can’t take off, and he bought it HERE. This store has grown over the years and it's a lot pricier now than when he bought mine, but they're top quality. l've worn mine for years (four or five?) and never removed it. It’s subtle but sturdy, and I love it. Collaring can be very serious, though, and some aren’t quite ready to go there. It took Jason some time before he was comfortable enough with the idea. So before then, he bought me a charm bracelet and purchased a “Daddy’s little girl” charm as well as a few others. He puts it on me in the morning when we go over my rules, and takes it off at night when I go to bed. 

Is there a gift you really want? Spend some time thinking about it and add it to your wishlist. Just a friendly reminder that Obsession Jewelry has some beautiful, affordable gifts you might consider. My post about them is HERE


Give thanks

I’m convinced that one of the simplest ways to be joyful is to give thanks for the gifts we already have. Have you made progress in your dynamic this year? Things may not be where you want them to be, but can we still give thanks? Sometimes in our struggles we fail to see our growth, and we fail to see how challenges have blessed us. Have you learned to communicate better? Learned to be more patient? Overcome a bad habit, learned how to deal with a challenge you faced? What are you grateful for? Take time to think on this. 

Enjoy the journey

Remember that we don’t really hit a point where we “arrive” in all of this. The joy is in the journey. The intimacy and connection. The peace we establish, the love we grow. As this year draws to a close and a new one is on the horizon, let’s remember to take time even amidst the chaos and stress to enjoy where we are and who we’re with.

Monday, November 19, 2018

"Tell Daddy All the Things"

The past week has been super stressful here. We were kinda going on at an even keel, and I knew things were going to begin to get stressful because we’re doing some major construction in our house. Namely, my kitchen is being remodeled. They’re moving fast, and I can’t wait to get into my new kitchen. But… it’s stressful. 

The house is so cluttered and impossible to keep tidy at the moment. The task of feeding a large family with crockpots and a toaster oven and no kitchen sink is a little daunting. So, even though things are really going well overall, I’ve had to put a lot of energy toward managing this situation. 

Friday night, I had to confess to Jason that I’d broken two rules. I told him the first and he nodded and said “stand up and turn around,” like he was going to give me a quick spank to remind me to behave. Sheepishly, I told him there were actually two rules I’d broken. He wasn’t angry, and they weren’t major infractions. 

But I wanted mercy so badly this time. 

“I don’t want a spanking,” I told him and to be honest, I pouted a little. “I didn’t mean to. I know it was wrong but I’m stressed and I just lapsed.” 

He nodded. He sat at his desk and folded his hands on his lap, thinking. “I understand. But you need a spanking for this.” I was so tired from the challenges of this week I leaned over and put my head on his shoulder, because the thought of punishment was awful. He gave me a hug and said, “you doso much better when I don’t let you get away with these little things. You need me to hold you to this. I know you don’t want it, but it’s better for you if I punish you for this.” 

I appreciated his honesty and I always appreciate his consistency, even if in the moment I’m not too jazzed about an actual spanking.

So the day went on and we did what we had to. But by the time night rolled around, I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Jason was reading in bed, and he just gave me the one eyebrow-raise look and said, “Tonight, or tomorrow morning. I’ll leave it up to you.” 

I was so tired, I just mumbled, “can you tell me if it will be very bad?” What can I say. I’m sort of a wimp. If it’s an intense spanking, I can’t really go about my day very well. And we both always prefer to get a real punishment over before bed. 

“No,” he said. “But a very good reminder is in order.” 

I rolled over and fell promptly to sleep. 

I wake up a lot earlier than Jason does, so the next morning, I woke up, and of course the first thing I thought was, “I’m going to get punished today.” I tried to focus on everything I needed to do but the more I thought, the more my fears compounded. 

We had unexpected guests on their way. I think our fridge accidentally came unplugged during the remodel, because a whole bunch of food went bad, and I had to throw everything out. So, we were out of food. I had gym plans and work to do and laundry and things for the kids, and… my mind just spiraled and spiraled. 

I kept looking at the clock and fearing our guests would arrive sooner than later, and Jason wouldn’t be able to deal with me. But it was way earlier than he normally gets up, and literally his only day of the week to sleep in. So I sat on the couch and thought and thought. 

What would he want me to do? 

I talked it over with my friend Maisy and she confirmed my gut instinct: “Go see him.” 

So I made him a cup of coffee, and I headed on upstairs. I crawled under the blankets and snuggled up. He was groggy when he asked, “What time is it?” 

I told him and climbed up onto his chest. He held me and with his eyes still closed, said, “It’s a little earlier than I expected.” 

“Daddy, I know,” I said. And then I began what Jason calls Tell Daddy All the Things. 

(I love this image) 

I went on and on and on about everything on my mind. He slowly woke up drinking his coffee and listened. But eventually, I started getting a little worked up and my voice rose in pitch. I was really spiraling out. 

He said one word. Just one. 


I’ve been trained to obey him. 

So I did. 

I stopped worrying. I stopped thinking about it. I stopped talking about the things bothering me. I just laid there with him, being held by him, enjoying the quiet after his command. 

He asked me a few things, and he told me how we were going to handle everything. I nodded and listened. 

“And,” he said, “there’s the matter of your spanking.” 

Right. That, too. 

Without a word, he leaned over and lifted my leg that was snuggled up against him and tipped me over. Without a word, he spanked me with his hand. It took my breath away and hurt a lot more than I expected. He spanked me again, and again, probably half a dozen times or so. 

“There,” he said. “Now watch your rules, and don’t do that again.” 

I curled up onto his chest and let everything go. My eyes kind of watered but I didn’t really cry. I just felt a peaceful sort of calm. 

A dom can silence the mind . Without a word, he spanked me with his hand. It took my breath away and hurt a lot more than I expected. He spanked me again, and again, probably half a dozen times or so. 

“There,” he said. “Now watch your rules, and don’t do that again.” 

I curled up onto his chest and let everything go. My eyes kind of watered but I didn’t really cry. I just felt a peaceful sort of calm. 

A dom can silence the mind of his submissive with the power of his words. His command. He can take the tangled mess of insanity that swirls in her head and silence her fears. He can discipline with love or decide to be merciful, but meeting the needs of his submissive is a gift he gives to her because discipline is given in love. 

Last night I came to him before bed and did it again, “telling daddy all the things.” 

“I like when you do this,” he said. “When you’re all melty and soft.” 


Submission is a choice, but he’s the one that makes that choice an easier one.