Day 23- this is from 3/29- submission, worry, strength, honor

Dealing with being sick, but wanted to come blog. I may get this finished yet.

Blogging, and sometimes submissiveness, can sometimes be easy to put down for a moment and then before you know it, you feel like something is off or missing from your days so you look around and realize that you put it down and forgot about it a touch too long. It can get hard to get back in the groove, but if it is worth it to you- you can pick it back up like you never left off.

My submissive side is pretty important to me, I don’t open it up to just anyone and I don’t take it out, dust it off and use it just for fun sex time.

I was welcomed into the BDSM life style before the swinging life style and sometimes it is really hard to walk that fine line between dating and serving, between wanting to be independent and wanting to be owned, between knowing that you don’t need permission to do something and wishing you still should ask for it.

I think the last part is the hardest part. I know I don’t need my Bf’s permission to have people over at my house, I know I don’t need to ask for his permission to go do something, but yet there is that part of me that loves to be his submissive and craves asking for the permission from my Maestre, that truly submissive side that wants to be allowed to feel controlled – even if just in a small token way.

So live day by day, enjoy each experience and expect nothing but be thankful for all, my life and my submissive little side grows more everyday that way while my independent strong woman side of me becomes the one I am meant to be.

Follow directions and take care of myself- that is how I feed my submissive side so that when my Maestre wants to play I can please him and when I do ask for his permission to do something he will understand why (what is behind me asking) I feel the need to do so.

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Why

Do you really like me? Why do you need to know? do you feel like I like you? Do I smile when I see you? do I spend time to talk with you?

Do you love me? Why do you need to know? Don’t I tell you I love you when I feel like telling you it? Don’t I make time to spend with just you and then also with our friends?

Am I doing a good enough job at work? Why do you need to know? Do you feel like you are? Do you get your job done at the end of the day you feel complete? Do you still have a job to go to tomorrow?

Does my family and friends want me around? Why do you need to know? Don’t they make a point of always coming when you call them? Don’t they make a point of inviting you to go places with them? Don’t they text you everyday just to say hi sometimes?

Why do you have so many questions? Why can’t you just trust? Why why why???

Is it because you use to trust until it came into your life, whatever it may be man woman, brother, sister, father mother, it – – you know the one thing that brought your anxiety in to play with your sweet little mind and make you have so many questions.

Whatever it is, it’s not here anymore it’s gone so why is your anxiety still here little one?

Why do you feel like you need to know everything when sometimes you don’t you just need to let life happen. You don’t need to know all the answers before the questions are even asked.

It is in the past, it is not happening now, it is not going to happen today-however you darling are happening and you decide what path you’re going to be going down.

Are you going to be the scared little timid rabbit that needs to know where the next carrot is coming from? That needs to know that around that corner there’s not some big scary monster that’s going to come out and lop your head off?

Or are you going to be that beautiful beautiful snake that goes to the Garden with an attitude of what up mother fucker? yeah, there could be a a farmer around the corner waiting to cut your head off, but so what?

This is where you get to choose how you live your life. you don’t live your life based on the past because, how well is that working out for you a little one?

My challenge is that for the rest of this weekend and all of the most all of next week I don’t need to know. I don’t need to ask. I just need to live my life and enjoy this day that I’m given.

Doll’s life 

My grandbaby has these dolls she takes baths with. Every time after the bath, they would be put away differently. 

I joked around with my darling Meta, that I should write a blog about their poly lifestyle with pics, even had some pretty good pictures 🙂 

However; last Monday night, I came home to something that has been throwing me for a loop and don’t really know what to think, lol. 

We had an awesome date night, I love getting to spend time with my boyfriend, it is just really nice. He talked- no we talked,  about how maybe I should start seeing other people again and not be so dependent on him (which is hard for me because I allowed my submissive walls to come down with him and let him deeply inside. I learned to trust and try again and my submissive side is nervous),  it was a great talk and I felt good about my feelings and our relationship. 

But when I got home I noticed the next day,  the dark hair girl was gone from the tub. It was just the two blondes left.  Apparently her hair was icky and she got removed from the pairing. 

I don’t usually let my anxiety talk to me for a long time because I know it is just crap talking, but today (and part of this weekend) it is just bugging me. What if I am that dark haired girl and,  since he is doing so great in his life, job, relationships he (they) no longer want me around?  Which is bullshit cuz I am awesome lol giggle 

See silly stuff, but as we hit the 8 month mark of us dating I just worry about being boring. He says that I am still loved,  so why am I letting this silly little thing trigger me and make me doubt myself? Maybe the stress of moving and of being so sick lately, putting the weight I had lost back on, and also the questions my inner deep mono side keeps wanting to ask- why do you really want me to see other people? Even tho, hello– poly here and part of being poly is seeing other people, not because you are not wanted or loved but because YOU ARE!!! 

I am not that dark haired doll, I am not easily replaced and I just have to have faith that if I just keep on being just me and enjoying my life every little thing will be alright. 

Damn, I could really use a hug right now. Lol 

# Maybe he doesn’t hit you

I haven’t talked about this much, hell, my boyfriend knows more about what happened between Paul and I than my family that witnessed some of it, even more than my children know. 

How do you tell your children that you stayed somewhere because it was easy, it was easy to stay there and put up with everything because you didn’t feel like you were  worth anything else than him, better than him? 

I love this article because it really helps bring home the fact that I wasn’t as bad as he told me I was. I didn’t need him as much as I thought I did. 

  It has been over 4 years since I walked out his door, since I left his collar laying on his pillow. There were many nights in the first year that I had wished I could have gone back because I truly believed that I was the one who had something wrong with them, not him. 

 As sick & as twisted as it was,  there were a lot of times I wished I could have made it work because, hey at least he didn’t hit me. If only I had tried harder, if if only I didn’t need him as much as I had thought I did. 

I told people that he quieted my soul I really do believe that was true in the beginning.

We met online and everything he said was everything that meant so much to me. I thought we really clicked well.  You see, it was right after Tim had gotten so sick and went back to his ex to be with her during his treatments so maybe Paul just came in at the right time I truly believe that he listened to what I had to say I just didn’t know that he listened to what I had to say that so that he could use them against me.

 I moved in with him a week after being with him for the first time,  I should have known something was wrong when he wouldn’t make love to me. He got upset because I got too wet when he touched my clit and he said my smell was too strong.  He was so pissed that I got his sheets wet. We-no I – needed to get right up and wash the sheets. That is the day the verbal abuse started, but I didn’t know that is what it was, I just thought he was telling me how he felt. He was, he felt that I was less than him and I should have seen that red flag waging. 

6 months, that is how long we lasted. 6 months of me making all his lunches,  but me skipping them because I was too fat. 6 months of me sitting quietly in the living room from the time he went to bed until it was time for me to go to work, not watching his TV because I was too dumb to operate it and I couldn’t nap because I snored and woke him up. 

6 months of coming home from work every Sunday afternoon to kneel down in front of him to suck his cock as he watched home filmed cyber porn. If I started to get turned on he would make me stop, calm down, and then get back to making him cum. Once I was done making him cum, I would get up and get dinner started. The one time I asked if I could please go into the bedroom and use our glass toy to make myself cum he did not talk to me for the rest of the evening. 

 We would shower separately and go to bed, it was my responsibility to stay awake until he fell asleep so that I didn’t keep him awake with my snoring. I would try so hard, I would bite my hand to stay awake, and if I failed… He would wake up, yell at me, and kick me out of the bed to go sit in the living room in the dark till he went to sleep. 

I worked so hard to please him that I forgot about myself. 

 Maybe it would have been better if he had hit me, then they would have realized what was going on and got out of there, but he never did until the day he almost did. 

My friend’s mom died and he would not go with me to the funeral; my same friend got married and he would not escort me to the wedding, said he had something more important to do that day, so I went alone. 

During the reception, Larry came down to see me. He said I looked so beautiful with my hair up and red dress on. We made out in the hotel parking lot during the reception. That was the 1st time I gave in to temptation. It was also the 1st time I came in months. I felt beautiful, I felt wanted. 

I got home after the wedding to walk in on Paul sitting in front of his computer jerking his cock to some skinny skankey young thing getting fucked, he just looked at me and said to get down where I belonged like a good slut since I already looked like one I might as well be one. I felt so numb that night, used and tossed aside like nothing. I wish he would have hit me. 

We tried counseling, on the 3rd visit, the counselor told me to get out before it was too late for me, all my friends told me it was already too late, and my family started checking in on me every day but I didn’t understand why until after I left.

Why did I stay? Because everyday he told me he loved me. He told me that,  even though I was replaceable, he didnt want to. He said he wanted me. 

So what did it take for me to say enough and walk out that door? It was a combo of things: 

it was when Tim called me in February 2013to ask to see me again and I told him no because I was scared what Paul would do if he found out I saw him, and I was scared what Tim would say when he saw how large I had gotten. Tim told me his cancer was back and he wasn’t going to fight it this time. I went to Paul that night to be held and was told no, he had to get up early and did not want to deal with me. I wish he would have kicked me out of his house. 

It was when I found the sex toys wrapped up in the top drawer where they did not belong and they had been used by someone, but not us. I found out later he used them on a man. I wish I had had the balls to confront him about it. 

It was when I came home from work so excited that I was going to be a grandma, and his reaction? ” great another unwed mother bringing in yet another bastard into this world”  I wish he would have died that night. 

The final straw was nothing huge, not really by then. The men that had loved me before all begged me to leave him before it was too late. I had told one of them I wanted to leave, to please come get me on Tuesday, after he went to work. 

Monday night I was picking a sore on his back and hurt him. He turned around with such hatred in his eyes, his fist was raised and I don’t even remember what he said. I was so scared. 

But Tuesday morning he was so loving and sweet,  he played with my clit for the 1st time in 6 months. 

I texted my friend and said don’t come. I wanted to stay and try to make this work out. He said he was so sorry for scaring me, that he would never truly hurt me. 

 My friend was so pissed off, but he loved me enough to say ok.  He loved me enough, that when I called him in tears after Paul came home ftom work for lunch and called me so many bad naughty things while telling me to just leave, make everyone’s life better without me in it, to come over and move me the hell out of there. 

I still have issues from this experience, I am insecure, I worry that what I say and what I do will never be good enough and why should it be, when I wasn’t. 

If you are in a relationship where all your friends feel like they need to beg you to open your eyes and see what is happening to you, please listen to them. Please at least hear what they say and know that they love you.  

If you find yourself in a relationship that doesn’t feed your soul, that makes you feel less than or that you feel like you need to watch every little step you take- then you may need to take a quiet look at that relationship and ask yourself why you are there. I know I wish I had earlier than I did. 

But I did and even though I still have trust issues, it is so worth it. 

Weber online

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It is important to note that domestic violence does not always manifest as physical abuse. Emotional and psychological abuse can often be just as extreme as physical violence. Lack of physical violence does not mean the abuser is any less dangerous to the victim, nor does it mean the victim is any less trapped by the abuse.