That feels accurate. For me. For us. For our marriage. For this D/s relationship. Hell, for the entire world these days.
These past years have been fraught with – well, they’ve been fraught. One thing on top of the next concurrent with a third on top of a fourth. There’s been no rest, no lull, no end. Nothing catastrophic but boy, don’t the little things add up quickly to become overwhelm.
But how has all this affected our dynamic? Can you guess? Did we go full speed as an amazing coping mechanism to help us through the day? I WISH. But we sure as fuck did not. Did we restructure our marriage and life and do away with our D/s completely? Hell no. Did we sometimes forget to communicate? Did I go into survival mode and shove my submission down? Did Sir focus on other things and let the leadership slide? Yes yes and yes.
It makes tears fall out of my eyes to type that. It makes me feel a little broken, a little fraudulent and a lot embarrassed.
We’ve been living full-time D/s for almost 9 years. Now I’m not saying we stroll through Target with me on a leash – we do have jobs and children, but our dynamic is not just a bedroom one. Though our 23 year marriage didn’t start out D/s, when it evolved into that dynamic, everything became one. Our marriage WAS D/s, D/s was our marriage, I was wife & sub, He was husband & Sir. So when I began to feel the separation of everything into little compartments – I panicked and withdrew, then spilled my guts, them panicked & withdrew. Sir would listen and acknowledge but nothing really changed, for a while. A long fucking while. Our dynamic never completely went away but it just wasn’t feeding me (I don’t think it was feeding Him either), a skeleton of what it once was.
It did. It is. I feel it in my bones. We are rising again. Life isn’t much calmer. I’m not sure what really changed, or if this is just another ebb and flow of life. Maybe it has to do with talking, maybe it has to do with me figuring out my exhaustion, maybe it has to do with fucking. Sometimes, maybe it is mind over matter. Fake it til you ARE it. If life is a series of habits, a habit is just repetition until it becomes second nature. Whatever the case may be, this is our resurgence.
I’m so thankful to do this life with a person that gives me so much love. I’m also thankful to have a sore bottom this morning.
I would say we don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day because it’s a frivolous, capitalist, Hallmark holiday.
I would say we don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day because all that red and pink together is nauseating.
I would say we don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day because we don’t need a mainstream day to celebrate our love.
I would say we don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day because we are too busy rolling our eyes.
I would say all those things you hear everyone say about Valentine’s Day except…
It would all be a lie.
We do celebrate because what is more fun that giving and receiving gifts?! We don’t go out to dinner or get dressed up or make a big deal of it, but we exchange gifts and cards. We know it’s silly and we just don’t care! Sir loves getting me things and I love that about him. 🤣 I like giving him gifts too, but I mean, let’s be real here – he’s just not as excited as I am about getting presents.
This year, like every year, we exchange gifts that are family appropriate and also naughty ones, which are my favorite. What did I get last month? So glad you asked! A curry comb (a steel toothed horse comb for deshedding)! For me, it is a great sensation tool, but is heavenly for [careful] impact as well. That is not the first horse-related instrument in our collection – we also have crops, a jump bat, and a bit gag. And so with that knowledge swirling around in my brain, the first use of the comb only had me thinking YeeHaw. I didn’t say it out loud because my sexytime giggly fits aren’t always appropriate, but it was all that was left in my brain.
Happy Monday and Happy March! Take yourselves down to the local BDSM store Tractor Supply and let me know what you find.