I haven’t felt much like posting here over the past couple of weeks. There is nothing wrong, I have just run out of steam. The past couple of months have seen lots of activity on the blog; the blogging A-Z in April and then lots of meme participation. Ultimately though, there is more to this place than following a format, fun as it is to do.
There are many posts whirling around in my head, but nothing will quite come out. Last weekend was busy, in a fun and cultural sense. Generally there has been a limited amount of kink and overt submission.
That submission is always there, it is just that sometimes I struggle to see it. I really do long for the time when I am able to demonstrate it every day when we are free to be the Master and slave we desire to be. Just when I think I am stuck in a particular place though, I come across something that reminds me how far I have travelled, how much better my life is now, how lucky I am.
This morning, I found this post, written to my ex hubby from June 2013:
B,
On Sunday we have been married for 29 years. That is a lifetime – we have both been married for longer than we were single. We have had some great times, how ever would we have stayed together if we hadn’t. Equally we have had some difficult moments, not least the present. This year there will be no cards, no romantic meals – not even the pretence that we are happily married. No we won’t even see each other. Tomorrow you will tell me where you are off to for the weekend, personally I will find something useful to do; perhaps be with friends, who knows. Even though our marriage is on it’s very last legs, I will not be with Sir (and wouldn’t have been even if he hadn’t been working).
Today, I saw you for the first time in over 2 weeks. You were too busy to take me to the airport, too busy to join me on holiday, too busy to be here on my return. Yesterday on fathers day, your son was sad you weren’t here. Whether his failure to even text you was warranted, is between the two of you, after all, he is an adult now. It has been 7 months since I told you of my infidelity and 5 since the say I confirmed it by going off one Sunday to see my lover, leaving bereft at home. Since then we have not (as far as I can remember) spent one whole weekend together. You were away at Easter and even when I was away on holiday you spent few nights at home. You ask me to be patient with you. Say you don’t want to lose me. But even when I have offered to give up Sir you tell me that since it will make me unhappy you do not wish me to.
Both Sir and the friend I was on holiday with say that I now need to take control of this situation, and I know they are right. I am allowing myself to be treated just as badly now as I was before this happened. I know I have committed the worst sin possible within a marriage, and I have made no secret of this, but you did too. Granted it was many years ago, but the facts remain. You keep information from me – even tonight during the 30 minutes you were here having a shower and changing – refusing to tell me when you will be home, where you are going, where you stay, where your clothes are. You spend money recklessly and ask me for more.
You say you can’t give me what I need. Sexually, this is probably true. But even though I have offered to give this up you prefer to remain the martyr. If I am to be married, I need a husband, I need a loving relationship, I need to be cared for. You provide me with none of the above, yet you take all that you can.
I am reaching the end. Despite the fact I have most recently broken our wedding vows, I am the one currently feeling most deceived, most cheated upon. I think that after Sunday I will be ready.
I am sorry it has come to this, but I think that we need to face facts. We need to stop pretending and you need to realise that this is about more than sex, even if that sex is of the kinky kind.
I still care for you B, but I no longer love you as a wife should, I no longer respect you. My feeling as I started this letter was anger, but now, it is sorrow.
J
Immediately after reading this, I started to wonder that I had moved on at all. After all B is not completely out of my life (though the person I called Sir at the time is). We are still married and the house is not yet sold. I had forgotten the extent of his betrayal of me at that time, of the fact that I had offered quite so many olive branches to him. Since then I have discovered that he was pretty much living with another woman. I have also found out the extent of the hurt my son felt about what was going on.
But tonight as I look back on the day that I wrote this I can only be grateful that the relationship with S ended and that I didn’t go back to B. Grateful that I met Master and that his relationship with his then slave ended. Grateful that I recognised my need to be Master’s submissive and to give myself totally to him. Grateful that together we have enjoyed so many great experiences together and that we continue to plan more.
In June 2013 I barely knew what submission was about. I had yet to experience pain in the way I now have. I perceived that there was much missing from my life, but didn’t even know what it was let alone how to find it.
Today, in June 2016 I know that I am an owned slave. I know that I exist to serve and please him. I know that my life is more fulfilled than I might have expected. I know that I have no need to make decisions in most of my life (save work and my own family), I know that I need Master’s help and guidance in all that I do. I know that I am not scared to have given up control.
I have come a long way.
This year, on the day of the anniversary of that marriage I will be with Master. I won’t be worrying about B and his life, but instead I will be focusing on my service to the man who owns me and loves me. Being the slave he wants and needs. I will just be girl.
This girl, His pierced slave. His property. His love
His.
Wow… what an incredible saga… I am sorry for all the heartache… it sounds like you know who you are and are taking care of you, which can only be good. 🙂
Thank you Mala. Yes, sometimes we need to look back, if only to see how far we have come and how good things really are now.