Thoughtful Thursdays…

Today I get really personal as I talk openly and honestly about submission. Of course, I write the shit, but unlike some writers…I live it. I have for three years openly. But if I am really, really honest, I have been seeking it my whole life. I remember back when I was the ‘preacher’s wife’ our senior pastor did a month long series on ‘wives submit to your husbands.’ I had never been happier in my marriage. It felt so f’ing natural to surrender control. Unfortunately, my husband was a sub himself and not a very good decision maker so it was all too short lived. But damn did that shit feel GOOD…

The thing is that while some readers have complained that my heroines are TOO submissive, not even Kirsty is as submissive as I am. I crave the control of a strong Dom like a junkie looking for their next fix. And no, folks, that is not always good, because it generally leads to one of two things 1) most Doms who actually enjoy that much control are not Dominate but domineering (big difference that I learned the fucking hard way) or 2) I end up settling for less control than I need to make the Dom in my life comfortable.

Everybody loves Pretty Woman, but my favorite Julia Roberts and Richard Gere is the lesser known…Runaway Bride. Not since Rock Hudson and Doris Day has there been an on-screen chemistry that got better with time. But Julia and Richard do…but this scene from that movie has a deeper significance for me…

Like Julia’s eggs…that is my submission…the proper 50’s housewife, the little girl, the perfect sub, slave and shieldmaiden, I have even tried bedroom only role player (yeah, I know…not a good fit for me). My submission is so f’ing deep that I lose myself in what the man in my life needs me to be. To be fair, I am so complex that all of those are parts of me…but that is just it…PARTS. I am all those things and more. So much more that at times, the depths of my need for control and pain have frightened even me.

I called it my darkness. I used to say that my darkness was deeper than even I wanted to admit. BUT NO MORE! That word…darkness…is playing into the societal misconceptions about what submission, masochism and BDSM really is. We are NOT freaks as the DSM once espoused (the bible that shrinks use to decide if you are crazy…they finally this time took BDSM out of it, though those prejudices still exist).

I can remember sitting in therapy right after my separation with my not a hair out of place, matching shoes and purse, upper class, 20-something, out-of-touch, don’t have a care in this world therapist. She asked me…why do you always try so hard to please everyone? It took me another eighteen months to learn about submission and another two years to come to the point that Maggie talked about yesterday.

To get to the point that I can be comfortable in my own skin…in the amount of control and pain I need from my Dom. That I can finally say:

These days I am singing a different tune. My submission is NOT my darkness, but rather my LIGHT. It is the source of the strength that allows me to manage the stress of raising my nine year old autistic daughter alone. Fighting the doctors, the education system and even strangers on the street every fucking time we leave our house. It is what keeps me dreaming of more, keeps me getting up early to write books that are not yet selling very well, but that I believe will one day. It is the source of all that strength that has every single one of my friends saying…you are the strongest woman I know, I don’t know how you do it.

I do it, because of the butt plug in my ass that He told me to wear while we play in the park. Because of the delicious pain of clover clamps on my nipples or rubber bands snapping against my clitoris. I do it because of dildos that are too large to fit, but will prepare me for His fist. The soaring freedom of the words…good girl or pet.

And I will no longer be subjected to the control of a society that says something is wrong with that. I will not call it my darkness. Darkness is prejudice, narrow-minded people who are afraid of anything that they do not understand, anything that is different. Light is found in knowing and accepting yourself…and in the freedom that comes when you are accepted by another…not because you have become what he wants…but because His needs and wants matches your own.

That is a place that has me humming…

This little light of mine

I’m gonna let it shine.

Let it shine, let it shine, let is shine.