Thanks to a Sinner I know, I’ve been thinking fairly hard lately. It’s rare that someone I barely know can get me to think this deeply, but he did it…damn him!
He asked me several pointed questions when I questioned whether I was real or not:
What does She want out of life?
What excites her (not just naughty stuff) what are her passions?
What is she scared of trying, but wants so badly?
What is stopping her from bliss?
What is her true north?
I don’t know if I can answer these questions yet. I’m still percolating on them. I think before I can answer the what, I need to answer the who. Who am I? There’s more to me than the submissive woman who just figured out how to orgasm eight months ago. There’s more to me than the woman who craves spankings as much as I crave hand-holding.
I am more than the sum of my parts. I am more than Mom, co-worker, friend, lover, pet, little, slut…
I am a strong woman – regardless of the vulnerabilities I show you in this space. I keep going when others would give up, throw their hands in the air, and walk away. People say they wish they knew more people with my traits – until I decide not to give up on them, then they wish I was a little less strong.
With my strength comes a great deal of stubbornness. When I believe something, I believe it with my whole heart, and heaven help the person who wants me to change my mind. I am capable of changing my mind but not because someone else wants me to. Given enough time and information, I will let go of the thoughts and beliefs I cling to, but only because I choose to. The same people who rather I not direct my strength towards them often wish I was less stubborn.
I love with my whole heart. When I choose to give someone that piece of me, it’s because they’ve knocked down the walls or infiltrated my defenses. Right now, the only love I can give is that of friendship. For some, that’s not enough. For some, that’s too much. When I love someone, I hurt when they hurt, and I bleed when they bleed. As stupid as some of you may find this to be, I still reach out to my Lion from time to time. Not because I want something from him, but because I can imagine what he may be going through in his personal life. The thought of him being in pain breaks my heart; it sends a searing pain straight through me. I know he won’t answer, but I have to let him know he’s not alone and that he’s cared for. I have to. Stupid as it may be.
Now that I’ve experienced my own complete heartbreak, I have become extremely sensitive to other’s pain, even that of strangers. When I care about someone on a personal level (not just a basic human level) it’s unbearable. I need to do something to help alleviate their pain. Sometimes that means walking away and not being the source of it.
I will do what’s right, regardless of how hard it is. That surprises some people – and that makes me sad for them. I want to be selfish, of course I do. Anyone who’s followed my blog long enough has undoubtedly read a few of my temper tantrums. But, at the end of the day, it’s about doing what’s right – right for the other person. What do they need from me? Lately, they’ve needed me to walk away. They’ve needed me not to cling desperately to them. My little girl side hates it. She kicks and screams, flailing and crying, wanting what she wants. But the woman in me? She dries her tears, sucks it up, and gets on with the business of surviving.
Yes, I have that moment of “I don’t want to be with anyone who doesn’t want to be with me” – but that comes later. That’s after I’ve dived down deep into my head, felt every negative emotion possible, and then clawed my way back up to the sunlight.
I’m ever-hopeful. I can’t help it. I don’t want to be, because the things I hope for almost never happen. I can’t just work my way towards the things I hope for. I can’t make someone love me again. I can’t will someone to miss me so much they can’t possibly stay away. But I hope for it. I find the silver linings – eventually. It’s a dark day in my little girl world when I don’t see the bright side to something or find the smallest kernel of hope. I’m even hopeful that the American political system can one day be fixed. Before you laugh yourself sick, I didn’t say I think it will happen…I just have hope for it.
I’m insecure – what’s wrong with me that the last several men in my life have chosen to walk away from me? How am I so easy to leave behind? What’s lacking? For a brief moment in time, I felt beautiful. I believed it completely. I gained confidence. I walked with my head high and noticed appreciative looks of strangers (both men and women). I’m convinced those looks only came my way because of the confidence I exuded, not for my actual appearance.
And yet, for my insecurity, I have a great deal of confidence. Don’t try to out-work me, because you can’t. Don’t think you know as much as I do about my industry, you probably don’t. If you do, I’ll sit at your feet and soak up as much knowledge as I can. Don’t get in my way when there’s a job to do and someone needs to take charge; I’ll run you over.
I will never compare my parenting skills to someone else’s, but I know I’m doing a damn good job. My children are smart and funny, sweet and sensitive, and hell on wheels. They are polite, thoughtful, and caring. And hopefully, they aren’t too damaged by the lack of their father’s presence in their life. I work double-time to be both parents for them. Yes, they make me crazy, and God knows, there are days when I am so frustrated and tired I can’t see straight, but no one can do what I do for them. I take pride in that. I kick myself in the ass when I think I’m doing it wrong, but I’m a better mom now than I was a year ago, three years ago, seven years ago.
Let me never forget to include that I’m a submissive woman. Admitting my submissive nature makes so much sense to me. I’ve always been a people-pleaser – especially the people I care for. I hate confrontation…hate it. I think it’s part of the reason I will give people what they want (like letting them go) even though it hurts me to do it. If that’s what they need, I have to give it to them. It’s almost a compulsion, but it’s so much a part of who I am that I know that’s not the right word.
Lion called me a natural submissive. I don’t really know what that means, but I’ve recently been told that (supposedly) many Dominant men dream of a natural submissive. Any Doms want to dispute that? Feel free – I don’t know if I believe that statement. I take it to mean, though, that my submission is what makes me happiest. Yes, I want the rough sex. I want to be bound and restrained. I want to be used. I want to be broken. I want pain. I want the lightest touch of humiliation. Yes, please!
What I want most, though, is to make Him happy (whoever He is). I want to give the man I submit to whatever he wants. The idea of breaking a rule or disobeying terrifies me. I don’t want to be forced to submit. I don’t want to be punished. I don’t want to disappoint him. Does this make me a natural? I have no idea. But I know it makes me a submissive woman. I’m proud of it. The world makes sense to me now.
I’m sure there’s more to me than I’ve thought of here. If I’m thinking hard enough, I’d also include that I’m sarcastic and a smart-ass, but you probably already figured that out before now. I can be flirtatious if I think it doesn’t matter – I clam up tight if I think it does (those damn insecurities again).
But if I’m going to rail about not feeling real and try to explain what I want, then I need to start with who I am. I don’t know if any of this makes me more understandable, relatable (is that a word?), or likable. I don’t know if it matters much. I figured that maybe I would make more sense and feel less ephemeral in this space by trying to explain myself – to myself.