Monday, January 24, 2005

First of all, you guys are great. The emails and messages I’ve gotten recently – cause of my absence, and from new readers – you blow me away. You give me a great deal of reason to come back and start running off at the mouth yet again. And I thank you for that. The motivation had left me, I hope it’s starting to return.

Second, you’ll notice a relative lack of d/s in anything I’ve written lately, or may write currently, cause – there’s no d/s in my life. The man who I thought was my dominant for life – well – I’ve already told you we’re separated. Not divorced, not yet. There’s no cause for me to go looking for anyone else, and frankly – I’m just not up to it.

Why?

Cause men confuse the very fuck out of my being.

(yes, I’ll elaborate, you knew that I would.)

In the first place, I don’t like to play games in a relationship. I suck at it, it feels bad, and I’m never sure which way to flip or fly if I’m not being 100 percent *me*. I don’t fake pout and I don’t pull away to see how far I can make a guy go to pull me back. I don’t make them play favorites between their friends and me, or their family and me. I just don’t. It’s pointless. If you want someone to love you – for *you* - why would you act in a way – deceptively – if you aren’t? I don’t get it. And I don’t know that I want to.

It seems like, though, that you almost have to play some kind of games to keep guys interested. Giving your all doesn’t keep their attention. They need a challenge, they need to be kept on their toes. Is that it? Is that really how this is supposed to work?

This is not to say that the gentlemen I’ve shared my life with have not played games with me. *chuckle* No, not by a long shot. The games are many and varied. Let’s see if I can put them into words.

There is the “let’s push to see how far I can make her go to make sure she has me.” I hate that shit. Look, if I’m there, I’m there. I’m not going anywhere. Why must I be tested?

There is the Silent Treatment – which used to work exactly as intended with me, but over the years, I’ve learned that countering his silence with my own usually suffices. And that’s not playing games on my part. I really *don’t* wanna talk to someone who is trying to make me give in by cutting me off. Not even in d/s. That’s unfair and frankly shows very little respect for me.

There is “she’s submissive and she loves me. What can I make her do, just for kicks.” Okay, look. If you truly have a desire to see me in bed with a live chicken and a chainsaw, great. If you’re just doing it to try to prove to yourself how much control you have over me, I think its shitty behavior and if I catch you in it, I will call you on it.

I guess maybe I just feel testing someone *is* playing games and I don’t like it. I don’t need to be tested for fucks’ sake, take me at my word. Not doing so simply shows – again – a lack of respect for me, and a lack of faith *in* me. How do you think that endears you to me? It don’t. Period.
Is this common submissive response? Nah. Probably not. But this is *my* response right now, and I still do consider myself a submissive.

There is a line that can be crossed between being dominant and being a dick. Testing your partner crosses that line. Do you really wanna be John the Dick? Or John the Dominant? Think about that.

This, of course, is not to say that some submissives don’t like that behavior – yadda yadda yadda – your mileage may vary. (why do I still feel a need to put disclaimers on this shit?)

And here’s another thing I don’t get about men. What is it about the word “need”? You either love it or hate it, and women walk a fine fucking line every time they get into a relationship with that very word. C didn’t mind it if I said I “needed” him (but by god he hated it if I said he “needed” to do something. His response was always “I don’t need to do anything but eat sleep and breathe, everything else is optional.”). But M. hated the very idea of that word and if I so much as uttered it in the middle of a good sound fucking his hackles went up and the mood was spoiled. We want you to know we want you around. We want you to know we want you in our lives. We want you to know we miss you when you’re gone. Sometimes, that’s a need. Why must we stop and think each time before we use that word?

Do I sound frustrated? Yea, I am. Because I’m damn near 40 years old, with one divorce and one separation and one termination of a 4-year-live-in-relationship on my shoulders and it’s got me wondering – what the fuck.

[-----]

So, in trying to piece all this stuff together, which is what I’ve been doing recently in addition to working on my apartment, making candles and playing Worlds of Warcraft, I’ve not figured anything out.

Except, that something I said to M. once – during one of those famous tearful drawn out emotionally draining relationship talks – is that maybe I’m not meant for a long term relationship. Maybe I’m just a catalyst in other people’s lives. With my first husband, I got him out of a dingy 1 room apartment where he kept cash only in a drawer in his waterbed, into a house with a bank account, credit cards, and a better grasp on finances. With C, it was helping direct him back to the military and helping him handle his dad’s death. With Mark, it was helping raise the girls. I mean, seriously, is that what I’m supposed to be doing?

If so, screw relationships. I’ll find a fuck buddy and be done with it.

I am way too old for this shit.

[-----]

*chuckle* Well. Where did all that come from?

On the upside, it’s been snowing a lot and I’m happy watching it fall.

Sophie is spastic as ever. But we like our new bed, and we like our new place, and we’re warm and toasty and safe and free.

And now, you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find something productive to do, rather than rant all over you guys. *smile*.