Healthy boundaries

In a healthy relationship there must be boundaries. If you are inclined to co-dependence, boundaries could well be your struggle. Your partner acts selfishly and/or unthinkingly and you tend to put up with it, rather than expressing your view that you don't appreciate the way they acted. Maybe it feels safer that way. Hold onto that thought...

It's well understood that the forces of human nature are that opposites attract. A submissively inclined person will be attracted to a dominant person, and vice versa, but maintaining the relationship in a healthy state still very much applies. In a healthy relationship there is mutuality and reciprocity.The rules are the same regardless of a power dynamic, or not.

It's very important that a submissive person understands that they are responsible for their relationship; that maintaining a passive stance isn't going to necessarily work against the forces of selfishness or narcissistic behavior. It's not easy, not at all, but creating boundaries for those inclined to take advantage of your nature is absolutely critical for your own emotional health.

The brighter you are, the more likely it is that you feel imposed upon and resentful if you are made to do what you don't believe is right. This will chip away at you, diminish your sense of self-esteem and make you doubt yourself and what you are doing, if not straight away then eventually.

In my opinion it is vital that you keep a discourse running and open such that you can express yourself and any doubts that you may have. If you are asked to sign something, for instance, and a voice in the back of your head suspects it's a mistake, speak up! You owe it yourself to fight for what you believe.

There's a leader in many relationships, not just  BDSM type relationships, but that doesn't mean that the other person lost their brain. You're not suddenly and mysteriously struck dumb. Leave the empty headedness for the bedroom. Use the brains that you were born with and were trained to use at college and in the workplace. For God's sake, speak up.

In childhood, shit happens. Parents are often victims of abuse in their childhood and they make mistakes. They can unwittingly behave narcissistically towards their children, become emotional manipulators, even when loving - I'd say not loving unconditionally is the biggest failing - and that leads to emotional harm.

When children are in harm's way emotionally they tend to go one of two ways: either they become passive, sorta co-dependent in their approach to life, or they behave waywardly; the opposite of co-dependent, sorta narcissistic.

The injured children grow up and the tendency is for them to want to dance with their polar opposite. If you are co-dependent then the narcissistic type, the leader at least, seems oh so very comfortable. Finally, you can be you, passive, protected, even if some behaviours of your partner are suss.

There's nothing wrong, as I see it, with wanting to dance with a partner that knows the steps; that fits so well with you. But, there is something wrong with not having boundaries; with not knowing where you stop and the other starts. What you want to be aware of is this: that you might be playing out the trauma you both experienced as children. If so, acknowledge it and make the necessary changes. Since the narcissistic partner won't recognize the pattern this leaves the co-dependent with the task of doing the work, making the necessary changes in the relationship.

Narcissists need to be taken care of. Co-dependents like to take care of people. Narcissists need to feel special. Co-dependents tend to walk on eggshells to ensure that that's the feeling narcissists maintain. It can so easily drift into unhealthy territory. If you're reading this, I think you can see how this can easily happen.

People in healthy relationships work through their problems and differences, but in an unhealthy relationship people may be closed to feedback. There's no shield, but plenty of shame. Even offers of help are unwanted.

The good news is that relationships can get better, healthier; maybe not always, but there is a good chance. It all starts with creating healthy boundaries.

This too shall pass

The end of a relationship, particularly a relationship in which a power dynamic has been played out, is never easy. I think there are reasons why these sorts of relationships are particularly painful when they come to an end. A power dynamic assumes that one person is in charge; one person is the authority figure, and thus the other person is the humbled entity; the child, if you will; the vulnerable soul. The submissive partner is not just losing a union with another person. She is losing the opportunity to express her self in a way she can't do in other relationships.

I'm not implying for a second that the dominant member of the union doesn't suffer at the end of such intense couplings. I think that they too are vulnerable to suffering and pain when the submissive is no longer under their care and guidance. But my point is that since it is the submissive partner who may have spent years learning how to yield and 'let go' to the other, it's a particularly hard task for her to find her own personal power; to stand on her own two feet. There's a very strong possibility that she (or he) will remain in a sort of grief state for a prolonged period of time.

It was interesting then to hear Oprah talk to Stanford Graduate School of Business students and mention a time when she sat with Dr Phil and a grieving mother whose child had died. This mother didn't want to go on living.

'Why,' asked Dr Phil, 'do you spend time in grief rather than celebrating the life of your child and the love  you shared?' (words to that effect).

Ophrah said she could feel a shift; a transformation of mindset. It gave me tingles to hear that.

I immediately thought about my submissively inclined friend in her grief at the end of her power dynamic with her partner. I thought about how she needed to reframe what had happened to her; that they had had a wonderful opportunity, the two of them, to explore themselves through a relationship that had lasted years and years, and that whilst it was now sad, very sad, it had been a glorious time in their lives, and one they would not have missed for the world.

Oprah was especially impressive that day talking to the students. You don't hang about with people like Maya Angelou and Nelson Mandela and not gain some wisdom. She said this:

'Your life is your greatest teacher...to bring you home to yourself...connect to your energy force and then you are your best.'

She also said this:

'When the personality comes to serve the energy of your soul that is authentic empowerment.'

She believes that we are walking towards our 'supreme moment of destiny'. How incredible that after all she has achieved she believes she is still walking that path! Still, she understands that on her path she has the opportunity to connect people to ideas and stories and to help them live better lives. Oh yes, I get that!

After all her years of interviewing every kind of person from every walk of life she believes that every person in the world wants the same thing and asks the same questions:

'Can you hear me? Do you see me? Are you fully here with me?'

There is no question that a power dynamic is an opportunity to explore these very deep, universal questions and themes. We tend to bare our soul to one another in such a dynamic in a way that we can't do with other relationships. Or, we try.

'Here are my failings. Here are my needs and my wants. Here is my hurt and pain left over from childhood. Here's what I haven't got a handle on yet. Touch my vulnerabilities. Look deep into my heart and my soul and get close to the shadow that follows me relentlessly. Embrace the darkness. Love me. Love the whole me with your whole heart. Be a whole hearted person. I'm vulnerable, show me your vulnerability too. Show me your fear. Open up. Be free. Safe, with me.'

This is what we are saying, perhaps not in words but in actions and deeds; in our efforts to reach the core and embrace the core, imperfect as it may be.

Is it any wonder we feel pain when that very special person in our lives is suddenly not there?

Yet, if it is true, and I believe it to be true, that every experience is a step closer to coming home to ourselves, what an amazing opportunity to get so close!

The waves above the water may induce a tempest, a storm of life threatening proportions at any given moment in our lives. An hour later the waves may settle; perhaps only ripples are noticeable. Yet, underneath the sea, there is always calm. The waves of our lives don't effect that which is always there, steady. That's home.

This too shall pass.

Tolerance

I'm a person who has considerable ability to endure. That's a relative statement, of course. I was saying to my son in the car this morning that I'd have died long before Hugh Glass (The Reverant), right about the time the bear mauled Glass. That I wouldn't have thought to eat a fish live, or the inwards of a bison, or sleep inside the carcass of a horse would be quite immaterial since I'd already be dead. But, relatively speaking, I can endure difficult situations. That my husband has wanted to live in a way that isn't in my comfort zone, well, I endure it. I tolerate it. (Note: Perhaps I should explain that the word 'tolerate' is one of my favourite words lately, in honour of a comedian who did a hilarious routine telling people with food intolerances to "tolerate it".)

Of course, when we hold in frustration, it comes out at the most unexpected moments. We were sitting outside in the gardens of the National Gallery sipping on a coffee when my husband made the statement, 'You don't want to make any decisions about business'. I went quiet. When he tried to engage me in discussion later I said, 'Of course I want a voice, why wouldn't I want a voice? You don't want me to have a voice.' Over the weekend we got into this a bit further, and guess what was the outcome? No change. Like always, no change.

Years ago, I said to my boss one day when he wanted to do something his way as per usual, 'Well why bother expressing an opinion since I don't have a vote.' And he replied, 'No. No. I want to discuss it with you at length. (Pause) And then we'll do it my way.' (Another note: Then, he smirked, loving the fact that he could have this repartee with me without me chuckling a wobbly.)

My eldest son who is up there at the Partner level of his firm made a similar statement to me one day, that he recognizes that people need to have their say, to feel listened to, and once he very respectfully does that listening, he explains that as good as their ideas are, things are going to happen the way he has determined them.

A friend of mine tried, genuinely and empathically, to convince her partner for a more rounded relationship. When the discussions completely faltered, in other words when he made the declaration that he wanted things his way and only his way, she called an end to the relationship, but misses him dearly, and I think from all accounts, he misses her. I imagine there is the possibility that things could be reignited but only if she can accept that nothing will have changed or even can change. He needs to have his way.

I've a close friend who keeps our relationship tightly managed, according to his dictates. Every now and again I freak out and explain that it's too bloody tight for me. Shove over and give me some room, some space, some allowances. But, there must be an insane side of me because as Einstein said, only an insane person does something over and over again and expects a different result.

From time to time I forget about the rigid nature of some individuals and think to myself, 'Surely this is just belligerence, and if I point it out logically and calmly, the other will see that they are being belligerent and bend.' But, this is to forget the rigidity of the rigid personality. They don't change because they can't change. They are who they are: committed to what they want. It is their nature.

Of course, no-one has just one facet to their personality. My eldest son, for example, on so many levels, is a relaxed and carefree individual. I heard him say a few days ago when a brother said he'd enjoyed wearing his jacket that he'd borrowed, 'Keep it.' Possessions aren't that important to him. He's happy to do something impulsively, last minute, if he can, and he can go with the flow in a number of ways. But at work, projects need to be done completely accurately and proficiently, meals need to be interesting and well contrived, girlfriends need to understand his desire for order and efficiency and get ready for the comments if he opens a cupboard here and discovers it is stacked with useless takeaway containers. He needs things to be a certain way and he's never going to change. He's not being churlish, he's just being himself.

I'm not at all unaware of the fact that there are rigid elements of my personality. Sometimes when I am trying to entice my husband to do a project around the house or garden and I don't get any traction I might say, 'If you think I am going to change and be the sort of person that doesn't care about the state of things at home you'll be waiting a very long time.' I am me and some things about me won't ever change. Having said that, is it not the submissively natured people of the world who are most likely to change enough to tolerate the rigidity in the Other? Sure, I blow up, but then I blow off and everything goes back to normal, me in the passanger seat.

I must surely have mentioned that I do Sound Healing Meditations and one time late last year I coughed. Bear in mind that we were laying down flat on the floor and when certain sounds were made with the Tibetan bowls I coughed, choked really. Later, the session convenor spoke to me about it and said that my voice chakra was blocked. I didn't think too much about it but in the last session a couple of weeks ago, it happened again. I mention this because in the two weeks after this I found myself voicing what I had held in; in one case, what I had held in for three years. I found myself saying what I had never properly said before; simply had not been able to find the words to stand up for myself.

Whilst it is remarkably onerous, futile really, to alter the dynamic of an exchange between certain people, finding one's voice is a whole other matter.  I wasn't asking, in that case particularly, for a change in the dynamic but I was stating absolutely categorically what was not on the table. I hadn't expressed my boundaries until then; hadn't spoken of what I had found to be utterly unacceptable. I'd just tried and tried to make it work, even though I knew it never would. And, why was that? Because what I was being asked to do was something that went against my personality, my sense of the fitness of things; my understanding of the role I play in this world; what I can do and what I can't. Because the dynamic worked I figured that I didn't have a voice; could not have a limit.

Of course, people have limits that are negotiated every day. But, dolls don't and in that particular dynamic I was 'the doll'. I can't begin to explain how vulnerable I am in that role. I enter that persona much as Leonardo became Hugh Glass - completely and persuasively. Do objects, dolls, fucktoyz have opinions, limits, boundaries? How could they when they don't even compute those big words!

It's captivating play: freeing, uplifting, mesmorizing, addictive; joyful. I do feel, however, that it is important to check in with 'the girl' at times. 'Is everything good?' you might ask a bimbo/doll and being in that slutty/object state of mind, what isn't good? Very important then to give the gal a voice from time to time. Rigid natures she can handle without complaint. Obedience is second nature to her. Holding her tongue is what she does best. But, does the girl who embodies the doll feel the same way, about every last command? It's important to ask the right persona particularly poignant questions about her life.

Regardless of a very naturally submissive nature, I do feel that everyone needs to feel in some sort of control in life; over their own behaviour, their own needs; for a sense of safety and security. It's a divine thought for me to think that a person can give their whole self over to another but it's a bit of an impossibility. We can stop our brains from thinking some of the time but we can't stop thinking all of the time. Our survival instinct demands that we use our minds. An animal, for example, may rely on an Owner for food but if the Owner is caught somewhere and cannot attend to the animal will not a smart animal do what is necessary to survive? So it is with humans. We think.

I think that we grade our relationships; grade those relationships where rigidity abounds and we assess whether the frustrations and the downsides are worth the upsides. Knowing as we eventually do that nothing is going to change and the rigidity will endure, we determine if we can tolerate it. I think there is a lot of love in this type of dynamic; empathy; tolerance; acceptance. It is a vital component.

Knowing

I chose to see 'Brooklyn' alone. I sensed that I would have a visceral reaction to the story shown through film and indeed I did. From the moment that Eilis waved goodbye to her mother and sister on the ship bound for New York I was already quite emotionally involved. I'd read the book some time ago so I knew what was coming, but I never would have believed that the story could have been so well portrayed on the screen. 'Characters', I said to myself silently several times, 'it's characters that we remember' and Eilis is quite unforgettable.

It's a simple enough story. Eilis lives in a small town in southeast Ireland where she works in a local  corner shop for a nasty, unfeeling woman. There is no opportunity for her to better herself in the bleak Irish economy of the early 1950s and thus her beloved sister Rose arranges for her to go to live in New York - Brooklyn to be precise - with the aid of the Catholic Church. She is homesick and sad but the priest arranges for her to go to night school, Brooklyn College, where she learns bookkeeping on the path to becoming an accountant one day. She meets Tony, an Italian who happens to like Irish girls and they begin to date. Life is sweet, but she is drawn back to Ireland and ends up in a situation where she must choose a life in Ireland or to return to Tony in Brooklyn. I won't say any more because you really must see this film for yourselves.

Eilis is good, down to her bones. She's smart and self contained. She looks after herself and she does what she must. She works hard, causes no-one any trouble. She grows to loves Tony but she's not effusive in her expression of that love. It's simply not her way, not her style. He loves her, gets her. 'Don't go quiet on me,' he says to her a few times in the story because it can be so hard to read her. Saoirse Ronan plays Eilis, the story book character, exquisitely.

But, when Eilis returns to Ireland for a month or so, because she must, she is confronted with a new situation. She looks different, more sophisticated. She is asked to work at the company where Rose worked. She has a job where people respect her. She is introduced to a kind and well mannered Irish man with means. She doesn't feel closeted and stifled there, as her friends might think she would after her life in America. Rather she sees the Irish town life as gentle now; the long stretch of barren beach beautiful. 'If only it was like this before...' she says, to herself really. We do wonder what Eilis will do, how she can make a decision that seems so impossible to make.

It is not until she is confronted with the bad behaviour of Miss Kelly, her past employer at the shop (and I so wish I could talk about it in detail but please do go see the film) that she makes her decision. She's angry, yes. Certainly, her emotions are involved. But, it's more than that. Her terribly difficult decision is made in this moment when she is accused by the old busy body, this very moment of entrapment. Her sensibilities refuse to take this lying down. Her understanding of herself, of her future, of the fitness of things and what she must now do immediately overtake her heart, her soul and her mind. What seemed foggy a few minutes before is now crystal clear.

The gorgeous thing about this movie is that we know, through a previous scene, that we can be highly optimistic that Eilis will go on to have a spectacularly happy life, full of light and love; a husband, children; a career, if she wants that. In the final frame of the movie, I sobbed; put my hand over my face and let the tears fall. It was the exactly correct moment to end the movie. My son and I talk of this all the time, the exactly correct moment to end a story and the film makers nailed it.

Long ago, my husband and I went to live in America. Newly married, we travelled first to England and stayed with relatives on a strawberry farm in Scotland and other relatives on a dairy farm not far out of London. We visited with an elderly distant relative in Wales and brought him a bottle of Scotch. It was a lovely, gentle few weeks.

And then we landed at JFK Airport and took a Connecticut Limousine (it's a bus) to a Howard Johnson's motel where the company had made a reservation for us until we found a home. The journey there filled us with horror; burned out cars on the freeway; people dismantling abandoned cars in front of our eyes. It was the early 80s for those who can remember that it was not an easy time to be living on the East Coast.  We'd never seen anything quite like it and whilst my husband was at work I ventured not very far into the town of Darien, not at all sure where it was safe to go or not go. It all felt very alien.

Of course, as time went by we became acclimated to our new home, but after about nine months or so I wanted to go home, back to Australia for a month or so and visit with my family. It was that period of time when I couldn't really say where was 'home' in my mind. On the return trip back to the United States I rang my husband in California and said not to worry about me, that the arrival time was very, very late and I'd catch one of those Connecticut Limousines home. We agreed I'd do that.

It's a long flight from Australia to New York and by the time we reached JFK I was very tired. I walked off the plane and through the process of customs and immigration in something of a daze; looked out into the sea of faces waiting to reunite with loved ones thinking my own thoughts. Here I was again in this noisy, alien place, chocked full of people, feeling somewhat out of place. I looked up, and there in the distance I could see my husband waiting for me.

It was a huge surprise. He looked rather small in that big crowd, about as vulnerable in the waiting to be reunited with me as I felt waiting to be reunited with him. I felt an enormous wave of love rush over me; an understanding that comes deep within, from the soul and the heart, that this was home. Home was where he was, and if he was here, this was my home. It all fell into place in that moment as I rushed into his arms and held him tight. Home was in his arms, by his side, walking through life together.

Well, we did return to Australia about a year after that, and then we went back; back to America where he could pursue his dreams. We bought a house on a wing and a prayer. We didn't want to sell our Australian home (one of the best decisions we ever made) and we borrowed heaps to buy the lowest priced home sold in that Connecticut town for many years. In fact, before we left for Australia again we had to sell for a rather ordinary price, before the Connecticut prices escalated after 9/11, but it didn't matter too much that it wasn't the best investment we could have made, financially speaking.

Our little Cape Cod was done up to be a very comfortable home for our growing family and we all remember it with huge fondness. We lived in that town for nine years, a town that embraced us and allowed us to bring up our children in a beautiful setting; a town with a strong education system and respect for family  Deer majestically made their way through our garden and ate my tulips in the Spring and squirrels took any chance I gave them to bite through the netting, should I leave a window open when I went out, and make themselves at home in my kitchen. (Okay, the truth is I was known to shout at them, 'Get out of my home right now!') Truly, they were wonderful years.

I wonder from time to time why people make the decisions they make; what impulses drive them and what place emotions play in their decisions through life. Of course, people are driven my emotions. We can be happy, or sad, or mad, or glad, and all in the same hour. Our egos can drive us, or our humility can prevent us from making a bad decision.

More important than emotions however are what I call our sensibilities; the core of a person that prevents them from doing something that goes against what they believe to be right. From where do these sensibilities come? I can't say, but I'd refer you to a writer such as Shakespeare who understood the various 'characters' that make up this world, good men and flawed men. For me, I think it comes down to loyalty; to do that which is 'right' by those who deserve our loyalty, good will, honesty and impeccability. We can make all sorts of excuses for behaviour but deep down we know what is right; what is pure of heart. People like Maya Angelou speak of this instinct. We all have it. It is simply a matter of what we do with that knowledge.

Attention

There was something about the feel of this particular morning that reminded me of the time when I was thinking about 'coming out' as a spanko. At that time it was a hectic life;  three children at school and one at college, and a husband who was travelling regularly, working late into the night and completely absorbed in his business endeavours. There wasn't time to scratch myself until these feelings surfaced and refused to be pushed down. The children noticed that there had been a change in me. I was quite suddenly fixated on 'research' on my laptop and dinner time was getting later and later. I seemed somewhat scattered. I remember that the older children told their Dad that, that something was going on with Mum.

There was no doubting the time was drawing near when I would say, in one form or another, 'Hey, remember me, the woman that you married a while back? I want attention and I want it in a particular way!' Actually, what I did do was go out and buy some beautiful lingerie and stockings so that when I did make my announcement I'd look particularly fetching. I was stacking the cards in my favour, definitely, and it paid off.

Fast forward to early this morning and you'd find me awake at dawn due to the whining of the dog. At such times I often turn to tumblr. I'm rather excited about my secondary blog there which covers my spiritual, as opposed to sexual journey. I have separated them out because I'm not finding that they blend together as well as they used to in my mind. Whilst cindi is the entity aiming for surrender both sexual and spiritual, I am finding I can make better sense of this with the two journeys having their own home. The real work is to be done in the spiritual domain, that's what I am discovering; an acknowledgment that, if I can control my mind, I can control everything around me, including my desire to give up control!

Of course, this doesn't sound too 'surrender' like, but it actually is. If one surrenders such that they can accept people as they are, maintain a non-judgmental approach, a peaceful mind, happiness abounds. It's not so much that we have emotions that is the problem but that we can allow negative emotions to control us. To this end, happiness is indeed a learned skill and one that we can hone. But, having said all that, understanding full well that my happiness is my responsibility, I realized this morning that I felt rather like I used to do when immersed in motherhood. I felt like I would rather enjoy some attention on me.

Of one thing I am quite sure, that I am attracted to men who aim to succeed and who work hard to achieve success in whatever arena they choose to compete, and who take their romantic relationships seriously. I remember as a child noticing the friends of my parents and I'd wonder why it was the case that some men were so doting on their wives while other men seemed to have missed that gene. I would not have called my father a doting man exactly but I do remember the day that he bought my mother a very expensive fur coat (back in the day that's what doting men did) with the monies he had saved on his weekly bets. He was a $2 punter mostly but his number system would pay off every now and again with a big win and he'd put this money aside to splurge on my mother. Somewhere in my adolescent brain, it sparked a desire for a man to dote on me, to love me enough to have me in his mind; to have my pleasure and happiness on his mind.

Years ago when we lived in the US, my husband and I were having an indulgent weekend in NYC together and we wandered into Armani, I think it was. The man there knew his trade and he had me slide into a gorgeous coat. I loved it for it made me feel very beautiful. My husband loved it too, I knew that, but the man wouldn't trade, and once a trader always a trader.

I never expected the coat in the first place, had no difficulty living without it of course, but my husband brings it up every so often, that he should have bought that coat. He knows, deep down, as such men know deep down that they aren't buying a coat. Rather, they are giving a clear signal that their wives mean everything to them and this extravagant gift is the symbol of that realization. Of course it doesn't have to be Armani. My husband bought me a hand made summer cotton hat in Nara in Japan and I felt quite adored in that moment. Still, I think you know what I mean about an 'over the top', once in a lifetime sort of gift. It's incredibly special experience in a woman's life.

In my roundabout way I am trying to convey the sense that I think it may very well be the case that submissive women are particularly partial to attention in various forms. Access to our bodies  and to our minds is part of that attention. Using our bodies and submissive state of mind to get attention is what we instinctively know to do.

Right from the beginning, back at college, my husband had his obsessions and I had mine. He'd bicycle off to check on his experiments whilst I read on into Joyce, or Virginia Woolf or Ibsen. It is the same today and then we come together to carry on with the conversation that has been endless for 40 years now - he on the markets, politics and the economy; me on literature, psychology and education. Our relationship was designed around a good dose of independence and interdependence. It was never designed for dependency on my part. He can reign in his attention on me for periods of time but he could never supervise me continually and really I couldn't handle that. Introverts like me need 'me time', introspection time; reflection time. Also he talks 100 words to my one, so I need alone time.

It was whilst reblogging posts for Cindi Surrenders that I realized something important. 'The Awakened State' said this in response to a reader's question: "What we need to acknowledge here is that when we are stuck in cycles of resistance it is because we are not letting go of what we cannot change."

Years ago, when I felt I needed a different form of loving, when I craved that, what I asked for was very clear: spank me. After that, we explored my ability to completely surrender such that I experienced these amazing highs to which I continue to aspire. The lower I got, the higher I became. It was a transformation I adored and still adore. I am fortunate that he is willing to take me on that ride, when he chooses. I have a passion for Kyoto not just because it is one of the most serene and stunning cities I have ever visited but because he was so convincingly sadistic one afternoon. My God, I loved/hated it, and my body stayed on fire for days. We can do this very well so long as he makes up his mind as to what he wants. For Pete's sake don't give me choices. cindi hasn't a clue what to do with choices.

Once these sorts of episodes are over however, I need to return to being me; absorbed in my own interests; happy to take care of myself. This is where the problem may have lain; that I wasn't doing particularly well with that. He put it eloquently to me this way: 'You need to have something to chew on because I don't want you chewing on my ass.'

He is a little bit like a 'mad professor' type. He'll basically work until I say that 'dinner is ready' or 'it's time to leave for the theatre now', or 'I need to get your okay on the apartment I want to rent in Bali'. Why, oh why, haven't I walked in to say, 'It's time for my spanking now' or 'I want to be used now please'? Well, I know why. It feels more authentic to me for him to just do it, like he did in Kyoto. But, in line with the above, that's not the way we have done so many things. Apart from big ticket items over which he has pretty much carte blanche, I do the other stuff and keep him briefed. Why not my sexual needs? (I am trying to convince myself here.)

I can't change who he is. He can't change who he is. I can't change who I am. Perhaps he could change who I am, but he has no desire to do so, particularly. Although...he does want me to take responsibility for having adequate quantities of sex; to ensure that happens. This is our sore point; that just like I have to ensure he gets to the theatre or whatever on time by calling him, I am meant to call him for sex. This strikes me as entirely unreasonable, but again, why I am resisting what I cannot change? Why don't I just initiate, get the ball rolling, because he does definitely respond to that.

At the moment I am hooked on a few auditory files of the 'hypnosis' variety. I love them all but the male on one particular file has this way of putting me to sleep that is just so dreamy. He tells me to be 'empty and obedient' and he lulls me into this erotic state of hypnosis as if he knows exactly what buttons to push, as if he knows me personally. It's hard to keep away from that file. It's hard to not have more attention. I most certainly enjoy the flashlight honed in on me. That's it in a nutshell.

Being a burden

It really isn't new at all, but I am starting to become especially conscious of the fact that my mood and feelings of contentment within myself relate to whether I feel contained enough. I think that certain daily rituals, whatever they may be, come to have significance for us, and although at times it can seem dull to do the same ole things day after day, the simple fact is that without doing them, something erodes.

It is not easy for me it seems to be able to communicate satisfactorily that I need more of a feeling of dominance in my life. There are complicated reasons for this and there is no one reason, but I think I learned very early in my life, and I feel that even at this stage that it is required of me, that I be as independent as I possibly can. I go about this independence as well as I possibly can until I become unglued. This can take the form of becoming low in mood, not myself, or it can mean that I say something rash or do something rash. Either way, it's a consequence of the independence. I am someone who needs to relate to the leader.

Watching The Duke of Burgundy recently I felt deeply for the submissive who craved tight control. She was lost in her own need and her poor lover, doomed to work overtime providing her with the sort of submissive experiences she longed for, was left wondering if she was good enough; if she was loved at all. It's not easy wanting your submissive lover in your bed at night when she wants to be put in a wooden chest and told she'll not come out until the other says so.

In my experience, when I am offered the experience of feeling controlled and connected (because for me they are completely entwined) I am so much softer and sweeter; more mellow and content. I radiate those feelings of love and satisfaction, I hope, but I do wonder if those internal feelings are enough for the dominant partner.

I've not been particularly encouraged to ask those questions which would suggest I am deeply interested in the dominant partner's state of mind. Instinctively I know, or I think I do, when it is appropriate to expect their focus and attention to shine down on me.  This is my attention on them, or I thought it was, to be aware that they are pre-occupied or low on energy for the exchange. This is why I return to my independent stance at times, not at all a comfortable place for me to navigate, but one I feel I must traverse for fear of being a burden, my greatest of all fears.