Taking

I don’t come out as a submissive to everyone. There are many friends I’ve made and kept in the last 15 years who have no idea that I’m involved in any way in the lifestyle, and neither does anyone in my family.

So, when I do tell someone I’m submissive, it’s kind of a thing for me. I trust them with a part of myself that I do not easily share, and I trust them to not use and abuse the information for their own gain, in any way, unless it benefits us both in some way.

This especially becomes important with vanilla – or mostly vanilla – men. I have a lot of vanilla friends; people who’ve either never heard of the lifestyle, or are only mildly interested in it, or who skirt the edges of it ‘just a bit’. I typically will throw a mild joke about ‘whips and chains’ or ‘rough sex’ into a conversation when I begin to get to know them. How they react to that is basically the guide for how much of myself I share with them.

I’ve had mixed results with this. I had one gentleman that I was getting to be close with on an mmorpg that I slipped that tidbit of a joke to, and he reacted as if he were horrified that I’d even think it. The subject got dropped quickly and I never revisited it, even in jest. I remained close friends with him, but it changed the way we interacted I think. Other times, it’s gone very well, and I’ve found people with either a small interest, or a larger one, and I’ve nurtured it along if it was comfortable to do so.

It’s those --- the latter ones – which I have to be careful with, for my own sake. I have to have my own lines pretty firmly drawn in the sand, and I have to be careful about how much of myself I reveal, or how much of myself I let come through.

It’s not a ‘them’ thing, though. It’s a ‘me’ thing. And I try to be conscious of how much of my submissive side gets let out.

It’s not that I think that lifestyle dominants are any better equipped to handle it than someone who’s just exploring a dominant aspect of themselves. Some of them aren’t. Some of them are less serious about a d/s relationship than someone who just found the term.

But I digress…

I read a post on a message board awhile back that discussed the ability (or inability) of some dominants to take everything without taking advantage. That’s kind of what this is for me. If I give enough of myself to someone that they believe it’s all right to take more – that’s fine (and in most cases desirable), providing that it doesn’t start to feel like I’m being taken for granted, or taken advantage of. That goes for d/s ‘lifestylers’ as well as the vanilla people I meet. When it starts to feel as if I’m giving, on a regular basis, more than I am reaping (mentally, emotionally, physically) from any sort of relationship, it’s time for me to re-evaluate how much of myself I’m giving, and pull back if necessary.

I think that is a fine line – between taking what’s offered to you, and taking advantage of someone, and I respect men (dominants in particular) who can do that with grace and style and have their own very well defined vision of that line. It’s not something everyone can do. And when it’s not done properly, the other party can be left feeling resentful as well as depleted emotionally – and that’s not fun, not hot, not sexy and certainly not healthy.

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned to recognize that more easily. I’ve also learned to be honest about it with the other person – in a nice, healthy, gentle way (rather than getting angry). I’m happy about that, and that my confidence allows me to say to someone – hey, listen – this, in it’s current state is not working for me.

I’ve said many times – here and in my other writings – that if sex – or in this case, BDSM, aren’t fun, you aren’t doing something right. While I understand that there is a time for serious behavior, there is also a time for fun, and if you don’t take time for the fun, you’re missing out on the better part of a real human relationship, in whatever way you label it.

So is it possible to be careful and mindful of how much of yourself you give away (or take from another) as the case may be, and still have fun?

Yes, and I’m living proof of that.

Worry Less, Breathe More

I'll admit it. I have a bit of new-age-ness in me. Maybe more than a bit.

I have a desk calendar - you know, one of those with a new page for every day. It has motivational quotes on it. I got it in December, when motivational quotes were just what I needed. And typically they still are :)

Yesterday's quote hit me up 'long side the head though. And went up against some of the demons I've been wrestling with this week (and no, the demons aren't cute and no, they aren't naked either)

"We would worry less about what others think of us if we realized how seldom they do." Ethel Barrett, writer.

I smiled when I read that. Off and on all day. And yesterday was an excellent day, partially because of that, but also because:

- I got my shiny new insurance card
- The scale deemed me worthy to slip down another pound.
- The size 10 jeans that I ordered fit perfectly (ok, so I haven't' washed them yet but...)
- And my 401K made money last quarter.

All in all, a good day.
Here's to hoping for another one.

Sniff.

In my teens and twenties, I rarely left the house without some blush and mascara on. As I grew older, makeup became much less of a priority for me, to the point where now, I rarely wear any at all, unless it's a special occasion.

Perfume was much the same way, but I've typically worn it more often than makeup, just because I'm a bit of a smell-ophile (I always have air fresheners or candles burning or oil warming in the house while I'm home. That was why I started my candle business way back -- I found I spent way too much on them)

I've worn Christian Dior's Poison (the original purple bottle) exclusively for many years - maybe 10 or so. It's absolutely one of my favorite scents. A bit musky, a bit oriental. But before that, I wore Ciara, which is also a bit musky, but completely different.

Today, while I was at Walgreen's, I bought a new bottle of Ciara. Small one. I'm going to try it again and see if I still like it. Maybe it's time for a change there, too. Maybe it'll help me break out of the old me and into the new one.

But I'm not throwing out my Poison. Oh, no. I still like it the best, and intend to wear it still. Just maybe not every time.

As in every part of life, changing things up makes life interesting. A change in a small thing can lead to a change of perspective.

And it's always good to see a new perspective *grin*

Tricks

There is no trick to wearing lingerie when you're thin and confident about your body. The trick to it is when you aren't.

Let me say that in my early 20's, I basically starved myself for 6 months and got down to 135-140 pounds. I looked like shit. My face was pale and the skin looked transparent. I actually looked like I'd been sick for years. But I was thin. And I wore clothes that accentuated that - including lingerie - and wore them with ease and proudly. It didn't take long for the weight to creep back, and when it did, all those clothes (and the ease in which I wore them) went immediately out the window.

I make no secret of the fact that I'm a lingerie junkie. I love the stuff. And I love to wear it for people who appreciate it, and can appreciate the fact that it's no easy task for me to wear it, looking 'not perfect'. Aside from the fact that putting it on makes me feel incredible, that little part of my brain that looks in the mirror still says un-nice things to me. Typically I can shut her up. But she's still there.

I'd like to say that it's the media that's done this to all women - made us feel inadequate, and given us such beautiful women to compare ourselves to. And maybe it is, in part. But the fact of the matter is that most women are raised to believe that men's idea of beauty can only be what they see on TV and in magazines. There's no room for anything else.

Smart women know this isn't true. *I* know this isn't true. But that doesn't always help us get far enough past what we were always taught to believe.

I mentioned last week that I've started looking at corsets. The weekend got away from me and I didn't get my old one out of the bag to try it on, but I will this weekend or maybe sooner, because I really do need a comparison. I saw several that I liked at my favorite lingerie hangouts online (Frederick's, Shirley of Hollywood, Henry and June.com....) and I know that I really should wait to get a new custom made one done, so I'm going to placate myself with a couple of pre-made ones that I feel are going to reflect kindly on me. I have one picked out. I'll probably get 2 or 3.

Despite the lesser amount of insecurity I have with myself now, I do find myself shopping for 'the skimpy stuff' often enough to believe that while - no. I do not look perfect in it - I look good enough to feel good, and good enough for the outfit to serve it's intended purpose.

You know what that purpose is *smirk*

Do. Are.

I won't take credit for this phrase, but I will repeat it often and loudly:

BDSM is what we do. D/s is who we are.

I spent a lot of my busy-time this weekend thinking about that.

Fact is, there are an awful lot of dominant/submissive relationships in this country populated by people who've never heard of BDSM, never touched a whip, never owned a stitch of leather clothing. Are they all healthy relationships? No. But neither are all BDSM relationships healthy. (As always, I'm well aware of the thick, dark line that separates consent and abuse)

If I never had a flogger swung at me again for the rest of my days, I'd be fine.
If I never got hogtied again, I'm sure I'd survive.
If I never went to a munch/play party/rally/weekend function again, I'm sure I'd live.

As a matter of fact.... I've survived more than three years that way so far. It's actually almost a full circle thing for me. Because as far as what I want right now, this is pretty much where I started out 14 years ago. The difference is that I'm not running away from those things like I did in the beginning -- but having experienced them all, I can say honestly that I can live without them, if it never comes to pass for me again. That pretty much includes all of the 'what we do' stuff.


That’s not to say that I wouldn’t invite or encourage or enjoy them. Just that I can live without them.

I realize that at this point in my life, what I should be looking at is what I can’t live without. And I’m doing some of that, too. But this comes along for the ride.

I don’t need the trappings. I don’t need the expensive toys (though I have a bag full of them), I don’t need the leather clothes (got some of those, too) or the weekends surrounded by other kinky people (though they can be fun).

What I need is someone who understands how to dominate – me.

And when I figure out what that means… I’ll be ahead of the game /wink

A bit of reality.

For as long as I can remember, everything that went wrong in my life, I could somehow blame on my weight. I didn't get a job or promotion I wanted, a guy I wanted, I didn't get to do things I wanted --- always because I was overweight.

In the last two years, I've slowly been losing that excuse. And this morning, when I put on a new shirt I got last week, and looked in the mirror - and looked almost *gasp* normal -- I realized that excuse was pretty much gone for good.

I've spent the morning contemplating that. I had wondered why lately I've been a bit touchy about some things, and perhaps this is the reason. I seem to be taking things far more personally lately than I used to. Sometimes the slightest slight (ya, okay, not my greatest turn-of-phrase, sorry) leaves me feeling a bit vulnerable and anxious lately.

I'm not crazy about feeling that way. At a time when I should be feeling *better*, I actually seem to be sometimes (only sometimes) making myself feel worse.

It's not every slight, every bit of rudeness, every missed opportunity. But when it does hit, it hits harder than it should.

I spent so many years with such a thick inner-coating that I never had to toughen up and get a thicker skin. I guess I'm going to have to do that now.

And that's not a bad thing. The fact that after a couple of weeks of feeling this way, I've acknowledged and recognized it for what it is is a good thing. I just need to learn what to do with it :p These bits of realization are good; it's just solving the puzzles that illuminate them that seems hard.

But I'm always up for a challenge :)

It's there or it ain't.

I either feel it, or I don't.

In my 14 years experiencing and experimenting with BDSM, I don't think there's ever been an occasion where it took time for me to feel at least a little submissive to someone. Typically I know right off whether that's going to happen for me with a man or not.

I can't tell you what sets my brain that direction. And I can't tell you what qualities will unilaterally make it so. It's just an instinct; a gut feeling that starts in my throat and ends up somewhere past my knees. It may start off as less than it ends up, but there is always a twitch of it in the beginning - or there never is.

I've felt nothing for some respected (and well-liked by me) dominants. And then again I've felt utterly and wholly submissive to some vanilla men who didn't know a thing (or at least not much) about BDSM. I've met some dominants that I felt more topp-y toward than submissive.

It's all relative. It's all about what I *feel*, rather than what I hear or see.

I think this is part of the problem that new submissives face when they start meeting people in the 'community'. Dom A. has a great reputation, is attractive and friendly - and they automatically feel as if they *should feel submissive to him, so they 'do', when they really don't.

There's absolutely nothing wrong with not having that dominant/submissive chemistry with someone. I don't care if he's the most experienced dominant on the planet, if you don't feel it - you just don't feel it. Maybe the guy standing next to him, his mostly-vanilla best friend, is more your style and you instantly feel submissive to *him. That's perfectly okay. As a matter of fact, if you can admit to it - to yourself especially - you're already one step ahead of some people.

Bittersweet

It happened again.

I pulled a blouse out of my closet this morning to wear to work, put it on, and it's too big.

I know I shouldn't complain about that, and I'm really not. I always get a little smile on my face when I have to toss something into the give-away box (which is currently overflowing and needs emptied - again). But some of these clothes, I've had for a long time, and waited a long time to wear. And then I only ended up getting to wear them for a short time. This blouse, for example. It's a tailored, fancy white blouse I bought several years ago, and it ended up being way too small. It's just been hanging around since, waiting to be worn. A couple months ago, I washed and bleached it in prep to wear it. I wore it twice. Now it has to go.

I did wear it today, even though it's too big. This weekend I'll wash it and fold it and put it in the box. But I'll never find another like it, and I really like the style of it.

There are several things hanging in the back of my closet that were a bit too small when I bought them. I guess this weekend I'll run through those and see how many of them fit now. I know a few of those, I'll be happy to add to the 'wear' side of my closet.

Which brings up something else: I'm in the market for a new corset.

Several years ago, while living in California, after breaking up with M, I bought a corset at the San Francisco Fetish Flea Market. It's gorgeous red and black, and for years it fit me perfectly. I haven't had it on for many years, and this weekend I'll get it out of the toybag and wrap it around me. I know it's going to be too big. At a size 18 it fit me perfectly and now as a size 12, I seriously doubt I'll be able to tighten it nearly enough. So I'm looking to get a new one.

I love corsets. I even love the fake-y corsets that you buy from online lingerie stores like Frederick's. I just love the look and feel of them, and what they represent. So I want a new one. One that will fit now, and adjust for the last 11 pounds I have left to lose (I haven't updated that lately, have I? Yes, I'm down to 11 to the doctor's goal. We'll see how I feel there, I may go for a few more after). I want a custom made one. I'm willing to spend the money to get something I really like.

Until then, I guess I'll make due with ones from lingerie stores *grin*

Things You Don’t Need To Know….

…and I should be embarrassed to admit to anyone.

1. Tonight on the way home from work, I was blasting old Bon Jovi on my stereo. I’m talking “In These Arms” old. Half the music in my car (and a good chunk of my iPod) are full of 80’s hairband rock and roll and I blast it at every opportunity.
2. I’m addicted to these Eclipse Mints. I started buying them because I was trying to cut down on my smoking but turns out, I just love them, period. If I get close to running out, I’ll make a special trip to the gas station or Walgreen’s to get more.
3. All through high school, I bet I had 2 zits. Since I turned 30, I get 1 or 2 a month. My doctor says its hormones. I say it’s because my sister – who had terrible acne in high school – put a hex on me.
4. I bought the first season of Melrose Place on DVD.
5. I have 5 hotmail accounts, 2 gmail accounts, 2 accounts off my domain and 2 yahoo accounts. I don’t know why I collect email addresses like some women collect purses, but I only have two purses at any given time so I figure I’m allowed.
6. After writing #1 about Bon Jovi, I promptly fired up iTunes and started playing all the Bon Jovi I have on my hard drive. That’s currently 7 songs. But as I write I’m searching iTunes for more.
7. Of all the catalogs and crap I get in the mail, I look at the Frederick’s and Victoria’s Secret catalogs first.
8. If something is red, the chances I’ll buy it instantly double.
9. My fingernails match the color of my car right now.
10. I blatantly stole this idea from an email I got on MySpace (yes, I have a MySpace, bite me)

Lambasted

On one of the d/s email lists I'm on - one that's pretty inactive most of the time - a submissive woman made a posting about something bad that had happened to her. I did feel bad for her, and probably wouldn't have responded at all, except for some reason she felt it necessary to make some off-hand comment about how 'we' 'in the lifestyle' are so much more 'aware' of things like health and safety issues.

We are? Really?

No, we are not. That's a myth; a crock of shit, actually. Submissive men and women are no more careful than anyone else who meet people either in clubs or online. It's yet another way for 'lifestylers' to elevate themselves apart from, or above, vanilla people but it's just not fact.

And it's one of my biggest pet peeves in the 'lifestyle'.

I almost let it go. I sat on it for a couple minutes, and re-wrote my response to her a few times. In the end, I was simply blunt in saying that - no, sorry - we aren't any better at it than Joe Vanilla down the street.

Then I got accused of lambasting her when she'd come seeking support. Yea, who didn't see that coming? I don't know who put it in the submissive rule book that we were supposed to be sweet to everyone and supportive of people even when they act like idiots, but I ripped that out of my book and burned it in effigy.

Maybe I need to come with a warning label: "Warning: Fluffy, Cuddly BDSM Bullshit not tolerated on these premises. Feel free to move along." I am straightforward. I am honest. I am realistic. I am -- Screamer.

I did discover that this isn't just the 'lifestyle' that does this, though - the whole 'we must be nice' thing.

Awhile back, in one of the online games I play, I got treated very poorly by someone I had been friends with for quite some time. I took my leave of him, and most of his friends at that point, and just ignored them. Awhile later, one of his female friends caught up with me on Myspace and tried to get me to talk to her, and to return to being friendly with them all. I patiently explained to her that as an adult female, I get to choose who I associate with, and because of the way I felt violated by my former friend, I didn't choose to associate with him at all.

And then I got lambasted for being 'immature'.

What, just cause I don't want to cuddle up to someone who fucked me over? God, the nerve of me.

In truth, I am an empath, and I do feel realistic pain from people who've been hurt. But I have no empathy - or sympathy - for people who knowingly and willingly bring it onto themselves, intentionally or not. And as I said, I did feel bad for the submissive. But not bad enough to let her 'holier than thou' remark fly. Which apparently negates me telling her that I was sorry for her pain somehow.

Who makes these rules? *snicker*

Remind me to go back through the Submissive Rule Book and rip out those pages, too.

Self-imposed

I’ve written very little since I came back from the east coast last week. Typically, I’d say it was because of work, or because it was too hot in my duplex (both of which are true to a point) but there was something else at work this time. Something self-imposed and not very pleasing to the self it was imposed upon.

I can’t even say the exact reason for the imposition, except to say that it was because of a gentleman I was dating, and his enjoyment of this blog. I didn’t stop on purpose; I just got careful.

And I dislike my reasoning for that, noble or kind as it may have been in thought; in deed it was censoring myself and I dislike the idea that I did that.

All in all, though, the whole thing wasn’t a total loss. I got my feet wet, and had some choices put in front of me that forced me to take another hard long look at what I really want and need from a relationship – whether it’s a d/s relationship, or a relationship with d/s overtones – and while I still don’t know for sure, at least it all got brought up into my face so to speak, and demanded that I take a look.

And you know me. I don’t shy away from the thinking thing. Good, bad or indifferent, it seems to be something I’m relatively good at.

Everyone has a strong suit, right?

Anyway. It’s time to attack the growing blog list again.

Now if only work would settle down and the weather would cooperate…..

Boyfriend, Dominant, Independence.....

No, I haven't been writing much lately. Chalk it up to summer-time, being busy, working too hard and trying to sort through some newer feelings/emotions/situations that have come into my life in the last several weeks.

A few days ago, I asked a question of a new friend of mine. The question was, what he felt was the difference between a girlfriend and a submissive.

It's only fair that I answer the converse of that, right? So I figured I'd do that here.

What's the difference between a boyfriend and a dominant?

I could just say 'depends on the man' and be done with it, but y'all know me better than that. /wink

I've had two major dominant/submissive relationships in my life. Both of these were (eventually) living together or married type relationships. Partnerships. Full-blown "in love" kinda things. In those cases, there were very defined lines between the girlfriend and the submissive, the dominant and the boyfriend. In one, I married someone in the military which makes those lines very fat and thick and well drawn. In the other, we lived with his two oldest daughters, which again drew those lines thickly. When there was a threat of one getting crossed (and they did occasionally), it took a great deal of smoothing to make sure that the girls were not uncomfortable with the relationship that we had. (One was, one wasn't).

But now, I sit here at 42 years old. Almost divorced. Independent, enjoying my life for the most part, feeling a sense of self that I've never really had before the last few years. And I wonder idly if the rules for that have changed for me.

I'm guessing they have.

There are a lot of things in my life I'm not willing to give up for the sake of a d/s relationship. At least not right now or anytime soon. My writing schedule (such as it is. I do intend to make a schedule and stick to it soon...hopefully....), my gaming, my family-time, my trips to the east coast to visit friends in Philly and other places. I'm enjoying all of these things right now. The idea of having to put them aside for the sake of having a dominant doesn't make me feel all warm and fuzzy.

And I guess where I see the line between boyfriend and dominant is right there. A full-time dominant would have a 'right' to bend my schedule and time. A boyfriend wouldn't. An occasional request would be fine for me. But having to alter my entire schedule for someone else? I just can't see being comfortable with that. 10 years ago, sure. Now? No. Of course, at some point I may be willing to have them bent, but I fought hard for my independence. I'm not ready to let it go just yet.

Or maybe I'm just not ready for 'serious'. And I'm all right with that, too.

I had to stop and think about the last 'boyfriend' I had where there was no element of d/s in the relationship. I guess my first husband would be the last. I remember that the sex sucked *chuckle* but I was fine with the independence of the relationship.

Gawd, is it possible?
Am I a *gasp* bedroom submissive? *snicker*
Maybe.

I've said many times that d/s is all wrapped up in sex for me. Maybe that just goes a little deeper than I thought. At least right now.

Ask me again in six months, I'll probably have a new answer /wink

Show Off

I’ve had a couple people recently comment to me that they could not do what I do here. Meaning, exposing myself – warts and all as my grandmother used to say – to complete and total strangers.

I gave it a bit of thought, something I’ve never really done before. I have always written, for as long as I can remember. Fiction, non-fiction, poetry, prose. It’s been a part of my life since I was in grade school. Journaling like this isn’t new for me. Obviously, I’ve had this blog for ~4 years now, and before that, I used other methods to journal, mostly private, but occasionally for public consumption.

Why do I do it? I’m not entirely sure.

But I thought about it yesterday and it brought to mind another question:

Am I an exhibitionist?

It’s true that when I lived in California, I played publicly quite often and happily. Despite the fact that I was unhappy with my body, playing in public never bothered me, and often added to the scene for me, depending of course on whom I was playing with. But I never considered that exhibitionistic; it was just what we did.

Later, when I had gained a lot of weight, I stopped wearing anything that showed any part of my body and the very idea of showing any of it off made me wince like crazy.

And up until recently, it remained that way.

I say recently, because the last time I spent the night in a hotel with a man, the room had a balcony, and when I was out there having one cigarette too many, I looked at the moon up in the sky, and the railing of the balcony, and very easily pictured fucking him right there.

That shook me a little. Until I melted it with this subject. And then it made a little sense.

Not because it was exhibitionistic, but because it was spontaneous and felt completely natural.

Much like my writing here does.

I typically don’t stop to think much about what I write here. It’s usually something I’ve been thinking about, and felt a need to put into words. Once I get that feeling, I rarely hesitate to do so, unless the writing would invade someone else’s privacy – in which case, I either don’t write it, or ask permission to write it.

I write here about what’s on my mind at the moment. Whether it has any reflection upon what’s going on in my life at the time or not is irrelevant. It’s what I’m thinking about. I’m not going to say something sappy about hoping my writing helps other submissives or dominants who struggle with their desires – while that’s a nice by-product, it’s not why I write anymore. I write for me. I may write *about someone, but I rarely write *for them, unless it’s a specific piece of fiction that was inspired *by them.

This is all about – and for – me.

I don't write to show off. I don't write to impress. I write for me.

And it would be dishonest if I didn't.

As far as being exhibitionistic goes, the jury is still out. I can honestly say that I have no drive to play in public anymore. If a situation arose and I were comfortable with the people, place and setting, then I may well consider it, but it’s not something I look for. And as far as sex** in public? Well, I have been known to enjoy pushing the envelope occasionally /grin. So maybe. We’ll see.

** = the topic of a soon to come blog: What *is sex?

How Important.

Over the last ten days or so, I’ve had the opportunity to explore a bit about what I really want. That came from two things: first, I had an actual date *smirk and second, I had a few decisions to make about some other things that are going on in my life.

Between thinking and journaling, and asking some questions, I got a bit of clarity that I really needed.

There are a lot of things that are important to me when it comes to men. Things like a sense of humor with a serious side, natural intelligence and leadership, honesty, sensuality, responsibility, confidence, wisdom and discipline. These are traits I look for. As are affection, compromise, and a modicum of compassion.

But when it comes down to it, how many of those things mean anything without sexual chemistry? And if you have the sexual chemistry, is it enough to replace any of those items missing from the list?

The answer to both questions, for me, is not really, not so much, no.

I’m not sure if that’s fortunate or unfortunate.

It places a relatively high value on sex, something that we’re taught from an early age is only a small part of a good relationship.

But is it small? I mean, really? You can admire, respect and care about someone til the cows come home, but is that enough to form and keep a bond with them if there is absolutely no physical chemistry?

On the other hand, it can go opposite. You can have a huge amount of chemistry with someone and know logically in your head that they are not right for you. Are you going to fight that? Or are you going to ignore the logic and let the rest roll on it’s own?

Even if you want to – you simply can’t.

I can hearken back to all of my relationships and see that one side or the other of that equation was perfectly filled in, while the other side looked more like an advanced calculus problem. While I love calc, it’s not really appropriate for long-term relationship logic, is it?

Maybe that’s why I’ve called it ‘settling’ and why I’ve decided it’s not going to work for me anymore.

I try to always approach things with a mixture of logic and heart. Sometimes I am better at that than others and sometimes one side wins out clearly while the other is completely ignored. I know that I over think things and I’m trying to let a bit of that go, but for some things, it has to stay.

That’s *why I question. That’s *why I prefer to discuss things rather than leave them to sit unattended in a crowded airport (sorry, I flew today) and stare aimlessly. I want to *know.

I don’t think that’s a bad thing, either.

Honey & Vinegar

I learned something about myself at work last week. I thought maybe it deserved exploring.

There’s another person at the company I work for that I don’t get along with very well. I’m not really sure why, except that most of the time when she can come at me with something, she does so in a very hostile way.

One day last week, she came at me a bit sweeter than that – and found out that if she really wants something from me, the old adage is true – you’re gonna get more flies with honey than vinegar.

I’m not sure I’ve always been that way, but I know that I am now, in most parts of my life. You’re not going to get something from me by badgering or by making me feel guilty (two fail safe methods in years past) but if you ask me nicely and you ask respectfully, then chances are, I’ll not only do what you ask, I’ll do it happily and feel good about doing it.

How that meshes with submission I don’t know yet. It’s not something that I’ve had ample opportunity to explore. I do think that it’s always possible that I’ll revert to the older ways sometimes in that case, but to be honest, I’ve only had one dominant that felt it necessary to use those methods.

I’m not, of course (god forbid) saying that dominants should ask permission for every little thing and nicely and all that. I’m more talking about big things, things that will impact more of my life than a scene or sex. Again, I’m not entirely sure it applies at all in that area.

But it certainly does everywhere else. I’m glad for the opportunity to have recognized yet another change in myself and my habits.