I Crave Approval #dominance #submission

There’s probably some rule some where that says I’m not supposed to admit that I need approval. And before anyone gets themselves twisted up about how I shouldn’t need anyone’s approval ever, let me explain.

A few truths…

I care what people think about me.

I want to be liked. I’m not actively seeking a big group of friends (it’s not in my introverted-nature to do that) but I don’t want to be disliked, either.

I need to hear that I did get a good job, that someone’s impressed with me, etc.

A few different truths…

I don’t let other people’s impressions of me stop me from what I want to do. It just means I don’t talk about it with them.

If I’m not liked, I don’t lose sleep over it, and I don’t think too much about it.

I do my best for myself and not for any praise I might receive.

Is that complicated enough for you?

I have no idea if these are submissive traits or if they’re specific only to me. But I do think they play a large part in my submission to Daddy and how I interact with the rest of the world.

Daddy is the only person who’s approval truly matters to me anymore. I would never want to alienate anyone, but I’m also not out to please the world. There was a time (before Daddy) that might not have been true.

I can remember getting twisted up in knots whenever I needed to make a decision, big or small.

Should I wear those shorts? What would people think if they saw me dressed this way? And by “people” I mean strangers in the grocery store.

I can never go without a bra. My boobs would flop around and I just know people will stare.

I have to work a “normal” job, don’t I? It’s irresponsible of me to put what I want before a steady paycheck and what the boys need. Isn’t it?

Should I do this? Can I do that? What will people think of this, that or the other?

It’s fucking exhausting walking around like that. And I had no idea how exhausting until I stopped. That’s right. I stopped.

There’s only one person who’s approval matters anymore. Daddy.

If he likes the shorts I’m wearing (even if my ass is hanging out of them), I wear them – and I almost dare people to have an opinion.

He says, “No bra” and I say, “Thank you!” I might feel weird with my boobs swaying freely, but I also feel relaxed and confident.

I don’t work a normal job, and I’m practically a domesticated woman with the amount of cleaning, cooking, and errand-running I now do during “working” hours, and I don’t care if anyone has an opinion about giving up my lucrative (but soul-sucking) career.

I crave one man’s approval, and only one man. If he’s happy, I’m happy. Thankfully, my happiness matters to him almost more than his own. I don’t need to worry about what strangers think of me. All I need is the occasional “Good girl” and life is good.

I’m finally able to channel all my people-pleasing, approval-craving ways towards one person. I don’t know if my vanilla world has figured out the difference in me yet – or if they ever will. But I know their approval no longer matters to me, and I’m happier, healthier, and saner because of it. I also wear shorter shorts and no bra more often than ever before. 😉