thinking [resurgence] thursday

Rising again.

Rising again.

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.

And then…

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.

Happy Thursday!

~ shygirl

thinking [friends?] thursday

Do people have friends?
Real friends?
Actual people in real life?
People they count on and confide in?
Do people have friends that share news with them? Friends that tell you things so you don’t find out by murky facebook posts?
People that check in and check up on you?
The kind of friend that you can tell about your daughter’s new job?
Or more than that…
Do y’all have real friends in this lifestyle?
Bdsm friends?
Meet for coffee and discuss your newest spanking invention kind of friend?
Or less than that…
A compatible soul, steadfast and true?
Just the kind of friend you tell you’re having a rough time and they ask for more information?
Do people have friends these days?
Seems like a wistful exaggeration to me.

I have Sir (who is also my Husband of 22 years) but that’s it.
People I thought were real friends turned out to be something less.
Something a little false, a little conditional, a little… Guarded.
It’s fine.
I mostly don’t miss all of that, but on occasion…
I think it might be nice to have a real friend to talk to, drink coffee with, commiserate and have candid conversation with.
Maybe?
But I’m not sure it exists!
Do people really have friends?

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Happy almost weekend! Enjoy your friends, if you’ve got ’em! Please wear a mask though. 😉

-shygirl

thinking [through it] thursday

Come here.

I take the steps to reach him and look up, wondering what this is. It’s so familiar but it’s been a while and I don’t dare raise my hopes.

Kneel.

I hesitate. I hate myself for it, but I’m scared. Not of anything He could do, never scared of Him, but of promises, of what this means. Kneeling now means a return for me but I’m not sure if this is another isolated moment for Him. I’m just not sure anymore. I hate myself for that, too. My mind is swirling in these seconds, full of love and hate and trepidation. He has given me an order, the very thing my soul yearns for, and I have hesitated out of fear. I look down, try to will my knees to fall, slightly bending and then I shake my head and look back up. A tear escapes and I hate myself a little more. I was made for this, and I just can’t do it. My mind is all over the place now – still with the love, hate, trepidation but now anger and oh my god, a touch of resentment. I shouldn’t feel this way, but I cannot shake it. He has facilitated this predicament we find ourselves in and I cannot overlook it. Frozen in time I wonder how long I’ve been standing here lost in my thoughts, crying in the stillness. I hazard a glance and realize it’s only been seconds. An eternity inside of seconds. Is it too late? Can I recover? Will this help? Why can’t He just know!

Su-b, kneel for me.

I let out a sob, gasp for a breath, search for a spark of resolve. I need just a pinpoint of light to break through the dark in my head, a tiny little beacon to guide me out.

Kneel. Now.

I sink to my knees. My mind isn’t quiet like it used to be. All those feelings don’t leave, instead they swirl together becoming background noise, a low din. Coming to the fore is a simple ‘please’. I don’t know if i let it slide off my lips, but inside I am crying please, the mantra holding me to the ground for Him. Please. Please. Please. Begging for what? For more, for less, for clarity, for continuity, for peace, for love, for a new beginning, for a revival of old. For everything. I beg for it all. Please. The damn tears are still flooding my face and I don’t know where we go from here. My mind is ramping back up and I think I can’t be here anymore. I fight the urge to stand but it’s just too much. Such a simple thing -kneeling- means everything yet is threatening to take me down. Please.
His strong hand pets my head, pulling it to his leg, where I melt into Him, exhaling for the first time in a long, long time.

Good girl. You are mine.

My brain wants to question this, to grill Him, to demand answers, to understand. These few minutes have felt like hours and I’m still frightened. But my soul soars. My very being knows in this moment, He is right. He is everything, He is that light, and I really am His. He is my only home. With Him I will be free.

– shygirl