When my daughter was at school, there was lots of talk about “balance”. They talked of balancing out one’s day; doing masses of work but leaving a little time for play, getting some exercise, being creative and so on. Girls were encouraged to seek balance for themselves going forward in terms of career, a possible family, friends and travel. Over and over again, the message was delivered loud and clear, that a girl from this school could be anything she wanted to be; do anything she wanted to do.
In a D/s relationship, two people tend to balance each other out. One has a strong desire to lead and the other to follow. One may wish to mould and the other may be willing to be moulded. One may believe he is right and the other may be prepared to yield to that version of the world. One may have rigid views and the other person more fluid in her thinking.
In discussions re D/s relationships about a dominant man and a submissive woman, it may sometimes appear that the dominant man is strong and the submissive woman, weak. I don’t believe that is the case at all. Submissive women show enormous tenacity; a willingness to bend(!!), to try again, to improve, to make themselves more their partner’s perfect mate, to forgive, to manipulate their minds. Time and time again, a submissive woman demonstrates resiliency and resolve to overcome setbacks; to endure; to make it right.
We must recognize ourselves for who we are: smart, capable, resilient and embracing of our own ability to grow and change. Whatever our man’s needs, we make room for them. We make it right. Without our strength of character submission would be not possible. The next time a submissive woman doubts herself, she might think about that. She is her own internal balancing act.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
A way of life
I find sitting in traffic tedious, but when I can listen to a good program on the radio, time in the car transforms to be a joy. I was lucky enough this morning to catch an interview with Alex Miller, author of 'Love Song'. I plan to procure a copy and when I read it I just hope that I enjoy it as much as I enjoyed listening to Alex Miller talk about his inspiration for the novel and his various characters. A few comments really resonated with me.
His main characters meet in an out of the way cafe in Paris and he talked of the warm places where people may gather. I adore watching people in cafes and all the potential stories therein. It's the cost of a cup of coffee but the possibilities are priceless.
He talked of food as being the "great seducer" and he's right. I do love an author who can bring food alive, so I'm anticipating a real treat here.
His characters meet and their eyes connect. They are instantly attracted. But, there is a process before that "look" can transform into a "commitment" of the attraction, and he says, this time can be "fraught". I suppose it is the 'unknown' quantity and the waiting he refers to; the anticipation; the hope. I can't wait to cast my eyes over those scenes.
He spoke of "real love" - hanging in when things go bad. Strength. How right he is. We're on the same page philosophically, too.
And, he discussed the difference between story telling and story writing and said that, in large measure, that was what his book was about. His Dad could start with a fact - the purchase of a pair of candlesticks - and, having no idea where he was going, weave a story. There is magic in the potential of the unknown and it is shared, he said.
But, a writer crafts a story in a solitary fashion even though his story is for others; to lift spirits, to engender warmth and excitement and engender a commitment between people. Stories move amongst us, he said, for it is a "human compulsion to tell stories". Would any one of us with a blog disagree?
"Is it a compulsion (to write)?" he was asked.
"No, " he replied. "Compulsive behaviour is not healthy. It is a way of life."
And, that is the sentence that compelled me to write about this interview. Yes, I feel compelled to write and at the moment, most often in this space. And, it could be called a compulsion, by some. It's true I have less interest in meeting up with the girls in my spare time, to gossip and drink coffee. I'd much rather sit at home and write.
But, I don't think it is unhealthy at all. I'm doing, finally, what I want to do, causing nobody any harm, and connecting with others of a like mind. It is my "way of life". And, possibly the D/s dynamic is your "way of life", too. Something that feels this darn good cannot possibly be bad for you; surely.
His main characters meet in an out of the way cafe in Paris and he talked of the warm places where people may gather. I adore watching people in cafes and all the potential stories therein. It's the cost of a cup of coffee but the possibilities are priceless.
He talked of food as being the "great seducer" and he's right. I do love an author who can bring food alive, so I'm anticipating a real treat here.
His characters meet and their eyes connect. They are instantly attracted. But, there is a process before that "look" can transform into a "commitment" of the attraction, and he says, this time can be "fraught". I suppose it is the 'unknown' quantity and the waiting he refers to; the anticipation; the hope. I can't wait to cast my eyes over those scenes.
He spoke of "real love" - hanging in when things go bad. Strength. How right he is. We're on the same page philosophically, too.
And, he discussed the difference between story telling and story writing and said that, in large measure, that was what his book was about. His Dad could start with a fact - the purchase of a pair of candlesticks - and, having no idea where he was going, weave a story. There is magic in the potential of the unknown and it is shared, he said.
But, a writer crafts a story in a solitary fashion even though his story is for others; to lift spirits, to engender warmth and excitement and engender a commitment between people. Stories move amongst us, he said, for it is a "human compulsion to tell stories". Would any one of us with a blog disagree?
"Is it a compulsion (to write)?" he was asked.
"No, " he replied. "Compulsive behaviour is not healthy. It is a way of life."
And, that is the sentence that compelled me to write about this interview. Yes, I feel compelled to write and at the moment, most often in this space. And, it could be called a compulsion, by some. It's true I have less interest in meeting up with the girls in my spare time, to gossip and drink coffee. I'd much rather sit at home and write.
But, I don't think it is unhealthy at all. I'm doing, finally, what I want to do, causing nobody any harm, and connecting with others of a like mind. It is my "way of life". And, possibly the D/s dynamic is your "way of life", too. Something that feels this darn good cannot possibly be bad for you; surely.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Limits
As a girl who realized very early in life that her thoughts were unacceptable for the world at large to hear, but her behaviour beyond reproach, my circumstances were not ideal for practising submission. My Dad was loving and proud and not in the least bossy. The simple and very true situation is that I was a ‘good girl’ in all ways, except my thoughts. There was just no reason to be cross with me, to second guess my behaviour, to lead me down a more correct path. I was already pretty perfect as far as a Dad was concerned. I did not have an older brother or an uncle who might boss me around and my teachers considered me the perfect student. Basically, I ran my own show.
It was not until I was in my very late teens that my husband (then boyfriend) showed up and very quickly began to tell me what to do. His temper flared about day 2. (Okay, that’s a slight exaggeration.) We were at the family farm at the time and he was irate that his girl didn’t even know how to drive a tractor correctly. Whilst I sobbed in the bedroom, his Dad reminded him that I was a city slicker. How in the hell was she supposed to just ‘know’ how to drive a tractor?
I was always a bit cheeky around boys but had never been called on it before. It was quite a shock to discover on that first visit ‘home’ that his older brother didn’t appreciate my sense of humour, at his expense. I got a good ‘dressing down’ for my quip. Boy! I was learning fast that certain boys had different expectations of ‘good behaviour’ than fathers or teachers.
If you said that I know how to get around my husband on most matters, you’d be pretty right. I certainly don’t always get my way; not at all. But, if he is really cross, tears can have him consoling me. And, if I look forlorn, as girls tend to do when they have been ‘told off’ I can usually extract a hug from him. Yesterday, the dear man brought me home flowers after a bit of a lecture he felt compelled to send my way. I truly do think of myself as a ‘good girl’ and so, when I am in trouble, I am truly shocked. Me? In trouble? But, I am a ‘good girl’!!
When a rule or a limit is set in place within the D/s dynamic, most of me wants to comply absolutely. But, a small part of me wants to see if I can negotiate, too. Perhaps, it is the intellectual challenge of the exercise. Perhaps, it is just what submissive women do. They see a gate and they just have to bang up against it to see if it might open, just a little. I do not confess to this being a conscious thought. It is not a conscious thought. I am merely trying to come up with some explanation as to why submissive women like me do what they do. Perhaps, no matter how much one yearns to be dominated, one has to be made to do certain things.
I was set a limit; one that I freely and excitedly agreed to accept. And, I’ve enjoyed that limit to the hilt. However, there came a day recently, when I wasn’t so sure about that limit. Perhaps, it could be given a bit of a push to extend the walls out a bit and give me a bit more room to move.
I am not so silly as to think that my plea would be met with jubilation and fanfare. I made it, more or less closing my eyes in anticipation of the less than enthusiastic response I expected it would engender. As anticipated, my challenge was met with a stony resistance and a good deal of disappointment and anger that I should even try this stunt. In for a penny in for a pound, I held my ground and argued my case. He dug in his heels and repeated his argument.
Well, blow me down, Vesta wasn’t winning this one! The limit remained. If she wanted to register a complaint, she could do it in a formal way. She could send an email through appropriate channels airing her grievances there. Of course, she was never going to do that. The girl had no jurisdiction in his court. Her case would be thrown out; judged as frivolous. They both knew that.
What’s that you ask? Oh come on! If you are expecting me to say that the girl is secretly pleased to not get her way, you are expecting too much. Girls don’t admit stuff like that. You’ll just have to take your best guess!
It was not until I was in my very late teens that my husband (then boyfriend) showed up and very quickly began to tell me what to do. His temper flared about day 2. (Okay, that’s a slight exaggeration.) We were at the family farm at the time and he was irate that his girl didn’t even know how to drive a tractor correctly. Whilst I sobbed in the bedroom, his Dad reminded him that I was a city slicker. How in the hell was she supposed to just ‘know’ how to drive a tractor?
I was always a bit cheeky around boys but had never been called on it before. It was quite a shock to discover on that first visit ‘home’ that his older brother didn’t appreciate my sense of humour, at his expense. I got a good ‘dressing down’ for my quip. Boy! I was learning fast that certain boys had different expectations of ‘good behaviour’ than fathers or teachers.
If you said that I know how to get around my husband on most matters, you’d be pretty right. I certainly don’t always get my way; not at all. But, if he is really cross, tears can have him consoling me. And, if I look forlorn, as girls tend to do when they have been ‘told off’ I can usually extract a hug from him. Yesterday, the dear man brought me home flowers after a bit of a lecture he felt compelled to send my way. I truly do think of myself as a ‘good girl’ and so, when I am in trouble, I am truly shocked. Me? In trouble? But, I am a ‘good girl’!!
When a rule or a limit is set in place within the D/s dynamic, most of me wants to comply absolutely. But, a small part of me wants to see if I can negotiate, too. Perhaps, it is the intellectual challenge of the exercise. Perhaps, it is just what submissive women do. They see a gate and they just have to bang up against it to see if it might open, just a little. I do not confess to this being a conscious thought. It is not a conscious thought. I am merely trying to come up with some explanation as to why submissive women like me do what they do. Perhaps, no matter how much one yearns to be dominated, one has to be made to do certain things.
I was set a limit; one that I freely and excitedly agreed to accept. And, I’ve enjoyed that limit to the hilt. However, there came a day recently, when I wasn’t so sure about that limit. Perhaps, it could be given a bit of a push to extend the walls out a bit and give me a bit more room to move.
I am not so silly as to think that my plea would be met with jubilation and fanfare. I made it, more or less closing my eyes in anticipation of the less than enthusiastic response I expected it would engender. As anticipated, my challenge was met with a stony resistance and a good deal of disappointment and anger that I should even try this stunt. In for a penny in for a pound, I held my ground and argued my case. He dug in his heels and repeated his argument.
Well, blow me down, Vesta wasn’t winning this one! The limit remained. If she wanted to register a complaint, she could do it in a formal way. She could send an email through appropriate channels airing her grievances there. Of course, she was never going to do that. The girl had no jurisdiction in his court. Her case would be thrown out; judged as frivolous. They both knew that.
What’s that you ask? Oh come on! If you are expecting me to say that the girl is secretly pleased to not get her way, you are expecting too much. Girls don’t admit stuff like that. You’ll just have to take your best guess!
Monday, November 9, 2009
True love
A dominant man just is.
He cannot turn off.
A submissive woman loves him for who he is.
Her heart is steady and she follows it;
As she must.
A dominant man is a force of nature.
Often a light summer breeze but
sometimes the bluster of a foul day.
The submissive woman stays the course
but she has a mind as well as a heart.
She finds refuge in the still of the cave.
She gathers her thoughts:
is calm, breathes deep; resuscitates.
The dominant man waits for her return
like the bear without his breakfast.
It is her unconditional love of him
which keeps his life on course.
As opposites attract,
So shall they reconnect.
Two hearts beat to the rhythm of
the same drum;
Love.
He cannot turn off.
A submissive woman loves him for who he is.
Her heart is steady and she follows it;
As she must.
A dominant man is a force of nature.
Often a light summer breeze but
sometimes the bluster of a foul day.
The submissive woman stays the course
but she has a mind as well as a heart.
She finds refuge in the still of the cave.
She gathers her thoughts:
is calm, breathes deep; resuscitates.
The dominant man waits for her return
like the bear without his breakfast.
It is her unconditional love of him
which keeps his life on course.
As opposites attract,
So shall they reconnect.
Two hearts beat to the rhythm of
the same drum;
Love.
Through the years
She was too hot to sleep
And she thought back to him
His smile, his pride, his petulance and
His rebuke.
She remembered his desire for cake
His attention to detail
His love of her white dress
and his dislike of all things careless.
He had demanded her best
but was slow to praise
She had no doubt
that she pleased him in every way.
He was forever gone now
She could never give or receive
a tender word again.
And yet at times he could feel so close.
She had woken during his tutelage
As if from a deep sleep.
And she would always remember him
Through the years, through the years.
And she thought back to him
His smile, his pride, his petulance and
His rebuke.
She remembered his desire for cake
His attention to detail
His love of her white dress
and his dislike of all things careless.
He had demanded her best
but was slow to praise
She had no doubt
that she pleased him in every way.
He was forever gone now
She could never give or receive
a tender word again.
And yet at times he could feel so close.
She had woken during his tutelage
As if from a deep sleep.
And she would always remember him
Through the years, through the years.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Burdens
My children have a very different life to the one I had. My parents were occupied most of the time and their work ran over a seven day cycle for most of my childhood. I remember some lovely childhood holidays when we managed to relax as a family, but outside of holiday time, every day was a work day.
My natural inclination is to be quiet but as well, I learned early that I must entertain myself. My mother encouraged me to be an active person and I was an active person. I danced my spare time away and there was also the piano. I adored to read. I had good friends. I was happy.
When the children came along, I loved them with all my heart and soul and I wanted them to have my full attention. We did a great deal together. We still do. I think they feel they have a good mother. They made and wrote me a card for my birthday and their messages were full of praise and love. I think I've done a good job with them. They are four stunning human beings.
My husband, for his own reasons, grew up with a strong desire to succeed in life, and he has succeeded. There have been great highs in his career and some disappointments, too. It is his nature to care for us and give to us all that he can. In his efforts to do that, to ensure that the future is secure for us all, he works very hard. He's a very bright person and he chooses complicated ventures. He seems to be drawn to that which is intense and convoluted, perhaps because his mind needs to be challenged. He is, in fact, in a seven day cycle now, much as my parents were. Nearly every day is a work day for him.
I learned very early to occupy myself and I'm good at that. I have plenty of interests and things to do and I never allow myself to be bored. I am what is known as a 'doer'. But, it is more than that. Surrounded by busy people, the thought of being a burden to anyone is perhaps my greatest fear. I avoid it at all costs.
I've been thinking about this; this feeling of being a burden as it relates to the D/s dynamic. For a girl who worries about being a burden, the dominant must understand why she does what she does. He needs to understand why she withdraws if she senses that she is a burden to him. It is not necessarily a rational response and must confuse him, at times.
It's not at all easy for a girl to discuss this feeling. Even the discussion itself implies that she is burdensome, you see. But, if there are dominants out there who think that this might be the case with their girl, a discussion must be had to sort this out. I'm not a professional person and I cannot offer advice. All I can say is that she should be given regular dollops of your love and reminded that she is the light of your life at regular intervals. This should help. Good luck.
My natural inclination is to be quiet but as well, I learned early that I must entertain myself. My mother encouraged me to be an active person and I was an active person. I danced my spare time away and there was also the piano. I adored to read. I had good friends. I was happy.
When the children came along, I loved them with all my heart and soul and I wanted them to have my full attention. We did a great deal together. We still do. I think they feel they have a good mother. They made and wrote me a card for my birthday and their messages were full of praise and love. I think I've done a good job with them. They are four stunning human beings.
My husband, for his own reasons, grew up with a strong desire to succeed in life, and he has succeeded. There have been great highs in his career and some disappointments, too. It is his nature to care for us and give to us all that he can. In his efforts to do that, to ensure that the future is secure for us all, he works very hard. He's a very bright person and he chooses complicated ventures. He seems to be drawn to that which is intense and convoluted, perhaps because his mind needs to be challenged. He is, in fact, in a seven day cycle now, much as my parents were. Nearly every day is a work day for him.
I learned very early to occupy myself and I'm good at that. I have plenty of interests and things to do and I never allow myself to be bored. I am what is known as a 'doer'. But, it is more than that. Surrounded by busy people, the thought of being a burden to anyone is perhaps my greatest fear. I avoid it at all costs.
I've been thinking about this; this feeling of being a burden as it relates to the D/s dynamic. For a girl who worries about being a burden, the dominant must understand why she does what she does. He needs to understand why she withdraws if she senses that she is a burden to him. It is not necessarily a rational response and must confuse him, at times.
It's not at all easy for a girl to discuss this feeling. Even the discussion itself implies that she is burdensome, you see. But, if there are dominants out there who think that this might be the case with their girl, a discussion must be had to sort this out. I'm not a professional person and I cannot offer advice. All I can say is that she should be given regular dollops of your love and reminded that she is the light of your life at regular intervals. This should help. Good luck.
Saturday, November 7, 2009
What to do
With one thing and another, it has been a very busy week. And, as well, there was that rather late night chat with one of you last night. You know who you are! So, after lunch today, I found myself tip toeing back under the covers.
Four or more hours later (yes, I was very, very tired) I woke to the sounds of two men discussing a business matter outside my door, as my husband showed the friend to the door. I rallied myself and had a shower and got dressed.
Truth to tell, my man is in a grumpy mood and apparently, I'm being cheeky. I really don't think so. Perhaps, I have not woken sufficiently well enough to pay him due deference. That is possible. Or, perhaps the discussion with the other man has him fired up. That's entirely possible, too.
Now, let's see what I have learned. What does a girl do in this situation? Does she
1) Ask him if he would please relax.
2) Try to be as good as she can be and hope for the best.
3) Offer her owner something that would relax him and put him in a very good mood for a pleasant Saturday evening together.
4) Feed him a lovely steak and salad with a glass of red wine.
Mmmmmm. I just don't know. What do you guys think?
Four or more hours later (yes, I was very, very tired) I woke to the sounds of two men discussing a business matter outside my door, as my husband showed the friend to the door. I rallied myself and had a shower and got dressed.
Truth to tell, my man is in a grumpy mood and apparently, I'm being cheeky. I really don't think so. Perhaps, I have not woken sufficiently well enough to pay him due deference. That is possible. Or, perhaps the discussion with the other man has him fired up. That's entirely possible, too.
Now, let's see what I have learned. What does a girl do in this situation? Does she
1) Ask him if he would please relax.
2) Try to be as good as she can be and hope for the best.
3) Offer her owner something that would relax him and put him in a very good mood for a pleasant Saturday evening together.
4) Feed him a lovely steak and salad with a glass of red wine.
Mmmmmm. I just don't know. What do you guys think?
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