It is funny how things can change in a short span of time. This time last year, I had just begun to realize who and what I am. My nose forever in my Kindle or on my phone, I could not get enough. Websites, fiction, non-fiction – I devoured it all and just wanted more. I had never really thought about why I did the things I did, why I felt the way I felt. I pretty much assumed I was just fucked up and left it at that. But I read these books, and suddenly I had a frame of reference and a new vocabulary. Maybe I wasn’t just fucked up…maybe I just needed to understand.
So, for the first time in many, many years, I began a journal. I wrote on the page “I am submissive” and it made my stomach hurt. It was all I could do not to scribble it out. Those that know me would tell you I am bossy and don’t take a lot of shit from anyone. They would say I am extremely impatient and strong. I would say they are right, but not really. I struggled in the journal, I struggled in my head. I didn’t want to be submissive because I thought it meant being weak. Back and forth on those pages I went, accepting and fighting. It became clear that I have always been submissive, though I didn’t know the words, and much of my tough persona were just walls. Walls protect and walls hide, and the walls I’d built had become me. My Husband had climbed over many walls in our years together, but I’m such a great builder that a few walls couldn’t be scaled.
I had to make a decision. Would I continue to live in the fortress I was safe in, or would I let in some light? Really, there was no choice because once you know there is really no going back. I started small…mentioning things to my Husband that I’d read in books, sending Him emails with links to articles (my subject line always something like “hmmmm” or “interesting”). I was just testing the water.
Soon enough, I couldn’t hold it in anymore! I felt the need to lay it all out there…and I did. I put that disjointed, tear-filled, angst-ridden, heart-on-the-page journal in His hands and asked Him to read it. I went and hid in the closet. No lie. Of course, He found me – I was hiding from myself more than Him. He pulled me close and held me tight. He was not shocked. He loved me and said He’d pretty much known all these years (though he didn’t have the vocab, either) and was waiting for me to know. I think I took my very first breath that day.
From then on, it was smooth sailing. Yeah, right!! This has been the most difficult, wonderful journey. It has been up and down, slow-going, torturous, tear-filled, ripped-open, hard,frustrating. It has also been the most rewarding, sweet, passionate, honest, soul-feeding, freeing, sex-filled, consuming, loving thing I have ever been a part of. Lately, things are really good. Really good. I still have my struggles and we are still navigating and tweaking, but we are in it together! My husDom (thanks to LK for the term) and I are living the life we were meant to live, and we are doing it our way (or His way, which is my way too!).