We cuddled on the sofa yesterday, as usual, and Mistress was holding my collar in her hand. She often does that, but this time she unhooked it and grabbed the end so that it formed a noose around my neck. She kept it tight but not too tight, it didn't restrict anything. It just made me feel very safe and secure and held.
Showing posts with label daily life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label daily life. Show all posts
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 24, 2016
Being parents
I left with little S after breakfast this morning and we came home again in the afternoon. It's a fact of life in our family that we all actually have a better time if we split up. It's sad and not at all how we thought it would be to be parents, but it is what it is. We do things all three of us every now and then but we need a lot of time apart too.
So in a way it's been a really good day, little S and I had a good outing and now she and Mistress are playing downstairs before bedtime and I'm relaxing upstairs. I think the little one has had a good day, and both me and Mistress has gotten time on our own and a chance to rest and recuperate. What we haven't got is anytime together.
We said a brief good morning before breakfast, but we can't have any normal grown up conversations over the meal or around it. And when we came home we pretty much changed shifts at the car. Mistress stayed outside and played and I went inside and rested. Before bed I'll watch a video with little S in bed and tonight it's my turn to read the bedtime story.
When little S is asleep, it's our time, we can be grown ups for an hour or so, and say anything we need to say. Cuddle and hang out and possibly doing something sexy or kinky. But we go to bed at around ten, and we would even if we didn't have to go to work or school because little S always wake up early and can't abide one minute without a parent.
One way to look at it is of course that we have a spoiled kid, that if we just raised her better she would be able to let other people finish a conversation uniterrupted or stand that her parents hug each other. Another view is that she's perfectly normal and behaves like every six year old and that the idea that parents would be able to exchange a sentence during a day together is asking for too much (that's my mothers' view, by the way).
I honestly don't think there's all that much we can do differently, without resorting to threats or physical violence. We've tried a lot of different tactics and I'm pretty convinced little S does everything she can to please us and do what we want her to do. I also don't think she's exactly like every other kid on the planet. I've seen the other kids, and even more, I've talked to their parents. They can do stuff we can't, without even thinking about it.
I do think we have an intense kid with a high need for social interaction and with a low impulse control for her age. She's all over the place and need a lot of time and attention in order to manage ordinary everyday things. If we don't support her, her anxiety levels goes through the roof. She's also really smart, kind, sweet, a good friend, has a great imagination, she's brave and caring and wonderful in many ways. But... no. She's not like most kids.
And that means that we can't do things many parents, many families, can. Get five minutes, or even one minute, alone together during a day, being the one we miss the most. We need to arrange things, make sure we get that time, because it doesn't just happen.
On the other hand this spring we went on a trip to Iceland and we rode Icelandic horses all three of us. Little S rode on a horse on her own, trotting and galopping and climbing the rocks and wading the rivers just like the adults. She had better control over her horse than most of the adult tourists on the tour. There's things we can't do, but there's a lot of things we can do and do that other families wouldn't. I don't want to change her a bit. I just want her to go to sleep soon so that I can cuddle with her other mother...
So in a way it's been a really good day, little S and I had a good outing and now she and Mistress are playing downstairs before bedtime and I'm relaxing upstairs. I think the little one has had a good day, and both me and Mistress has gotten time on our own and a chance to rest and recuperate. What we haven't got is anytime together.
We said a brief good morning before breakfast, but we can't have any normal grown up conversations over the meal or around it. And when we came home we pretty much changed shifts at the car. Mistress stayed outside and played and I went inside and rested. Before bed I'll watch a video with little S in bed and tonight it's my turn to read the bedtime story.
When little S is asleep, it's our time, we can be grown ups for an hour or so, and say anything we need to say. Cuddle and hang out and possibly doing something sexy or kinky. But we go to bed at around ten, and we would even if we didn't have to go to work or school because little S always wake up early and can't abide one minute without a parent.
One way to look at it is of course that we have a spoiled kid, that if we just raised her better she would be able to let other people finish a conversation uniterrupted or stand that her parents hug each other. Another view is that she's perfectly normal and behaves like every six year old and that the idea that parents would be able to exchange a sentence during a day together is asking for too much (that's my mothers' view, by the way).
I honestly don't think there's all that much we can do differently, without resorting to threats or physical violence. We've tried a lot of different tactics and I'm pretty convinced little S does everything she can to please us and do what we want her to do. I also don't think she's exactly like every other kid on the planet. I've seen the other kids, and even more, I've talked to their parents. They can do stuff we can't, without even thinking about it.
I do think we have an intense kid with a high need for social interaction and with a low impulse control for her age. She's all over the place and need a lot of time and attention in order to manage ordinary everyday things. If we don't support her, her anxiety levels goes through the roof. She's also really smart, kind, sweet, a good friend, has a great imagination, she's brave and caring and wonderful in many ways. But... no. She's not like most kids.
And that means that we can't do things many parents, many families, can. Get five minutes, or even one minute, alone together during a day, being the one we miss the most. We need to arrange things, make sure we get that time, because it doesn't just happen.
On the other hand this spring we went on a trip to Iceland and we rode Icelandic horses all three of us. Little S rode on a horse on her own, trotting and galopping and climbing the rocks and wading the rivers just like the adults. She had better control over her horse than most of the adult tourists on the tour. There's things we can't do, but there's a lot of things we can do and do that other families wouldn't. I don't want to change her a bit. I just want her to go to sleep soon so that I can cuddle with her other mother...
Jan 23, 2016
Assignment
Mistress is reading bedtime story to little S, and she gave me a few assignments to do while she was occupied. One was writing a blog entry, about whatever I wanted. Another was laying out three things she could hit me with and three things she could use to penetrate me with.
I love that. I get to choose the things I like and hope for, but I can't make her use any one thing or influence how she uses it.
She used the carpet beater on me yesterday. Ingeniously she varied the padding on me instead of the power of her strokes to serve as warm up. Well, at first she hit me with my trousers down but apparently I whimpered to much so she put them back on, and then something else - my dressing gown I think. Or maybe a blanket. And hit me full force for a while, which hurt but only just. She removed on thing at a time until she was down to bare skin again and by then I was all mellow and floaty.
Also, she used my own breathing technique on me, making me exhale and then not inhale until she told me to. I teach patients that to calm down and lessen anxiety, but counting seconds by hits with a carpet beater was not part of the original instructions. Worked very well, though.
Today we've been all kinds om jittery. I have what feels like bruises, but nothing shows, and I think we were both touched in our hearts. After reconnecting through pain and dominance we both have a need for cuddling and reassurance and just being close.
Unfortunately what was on the agenda was taking turns parenting a needy, hyper active and extremly jealous six year old. We both love her, deeply and dearly, but I think if a space ship had landed and asked to abduct her for a couple of hours, with a solemn promise of returning her unharmed and with a wiped memory, we just might have agreed.
The trick is to keep staying connected. To keep taking all the chances we get. It's hard, because it's so painful to get separated when we've been reunited. But the alternative, staying apart and distant from eachother, is frankly not acceptable.
Also, new rule. Or deal. Or experiment or whatever. When we are separated overnight, usually because Mistress travels for work, when we're reunited we wont argue. There's an arguing ban. No discussions, no conflicts, no solving of anything whatsoever. Twelve hours onwards from reuniting we are to swollow and accept anything and everything from eachother and forgive every wrong, look beyond every mistake and turn the other cheek at every slight. We're so damn nervy and twitchy and prone to conflict and crisis when we've been apart - if we could just keep quite and sit still for a day or so, I think it would spare us a lot of grief. So we'll try this radical, rather unflexible approach and see what happens.
And Mistress has formulated a goal that she shall beat me as soon as possible when she gets home, and at least withing 48 hours. We usually go sweet reunion --> horrible argument --> making up -->spanking. It would be nice if we could by pass those two in the middle.
I love that. I get to choose the things I like and hope for, but I can't make her use any one thing or influence how she uses it.
She used the carpet beater on me yesterday. Ingeniously she varied the padding on me instead of the power of her strokes to serve as warm up. Well, at first she hit me with my trousers down but apparently I whimpered to much so she put them back on, and then something else - my dressing gown I think. Or maybe a blanket. And hit me full force for a while, which hurt but only just. She removed on thing at a time until she was down to bare skin again and by then I was all mellow and floaty.
Also, she used my own breathing technique on me, making me exhale and then not inhale until she told me to. I teach patients that to calm down and lessen anxiety, but counting seconds by hits with a carpet beater was not part of the original instructions. Worked very well, though.
Today we've been all kinds om jittery. I have what feels like bruises, but nothing shows, and I think we were both touched in our hearts. After reconnecting through pain and dominance we both have a need for cuddling and reassurance and just being close.
Unfortunately what was on the agenda was taking turns parenting a needy, hyper active and extremly jealous six year old. We both love her, deeply and dearly, but I think if a space ship had landed and asked to abduct her for a couple of hours, with a solemn promise of returning her unharmed and with a wiped memory, we just might have agreed.
The trick is to keep staying connected. To keep taking all the chances we get. It's hard, because it's so painful to get separated when we've been reunited. But the alternative, staying apart and distant from eachother, is frankly not acceptable.
Also, new rule. Or deal. Or experiment or whatever. When we are separated overnight, usually because Mistress travels for work, when we're reunited we wont argue. There's an arguing ban. No discussions, no conflicts, no solving of anything whatsoever. Twelve hours onwards from reuniting we are to swollow and accept anything and everything from eachother and forgive every wrong, look beyond every mistake and turn the other cheek at every slight. We're so damn nervy and twitchy and prone to conflict and crisis when we've been apart - if we could just keep quite and sit still for a day or so, I think it would spare us a lot of grief. So we'll try this radical, rather unflexible approach and see what happens.
And Mistress has formulated a goal that she shall beat me as soon as possible when she gets home, and at least withing 48 hours. We usually go sweet reunion --> horrible argument --> making up -->spanking. It would be nice if we could by pass those two in the middle.
Jan 3, 2016
Trust (and crying and misunderstandings and a water crisis).
Yesterday when I was snot-crying into my pillow my mind was filled with very real thoughts about our relationship being over. I didn't see any way forward at that moment, and even though part of me knew I was being very much overly dramatic another part was very very sincere in the idea of "this is it - I can't go forward from here".
When we were arguing, or rather trying to solve things instead of arguing, I hugged Mistress, rested my head against her chest and asked "Can I trust you?". Meaning "I want to trust you, no matter what, I don't care what just happened, I don't care about our problems - if you say you'll be there, I'll believe you, and everything else will take care of itself. Just tell me I can trust you, and I will."
That's what I meant, and that's what I was expecting an answer to. That was, however, not how she interpreted the question, and she answered, calmly and with sincerity: "No".
So there. For me, that was kind of it. I tore lose, told her she made me panic and that I couldn't believe she just said that. She changed the subject and went to check on some practicality. I told her to go to Hell, ran upstairs, slammed the door, threw myself on the bed and cried.
For me, her answer was practically the same as thrusting a divorce paper under my nose. If she herself says I can't trust her - how can I? And if I can't trust her, if she doesn't even bother about trying to behave in a way that I can trust, if she just disregard that as something unimportant, how can I submit to her? And I know, by now, that any other type relationship will dry up and go stale very fast for me. But the thing is that I have absolutely nowhere to go.
It doesn't matter how mad or sad or frustrated or heartbroken she makes me. I can't imagine a life without her, either emotionally or in a practical sense. All my dreams, all my hopes and plans and ideas, are tied to her. Everything I want to do, I want to do together with her. The idea of doing anything without her felt lika a vast, black gulf opening before me.
But on the other hand there were those words: "Can I trust you?" "No."
Well, she followed me after a few minutes, laid herself literary atop of me, like a rather heavy duvet (heavy for a duvet, that is - she's not that heavy for a human). She hugged me and said she wanted to make things better, and that whatever I had heard or interpreted was wrong and that I could trust that she loved me and wanted me and would always do her best to take her of me. That made it kind of better.
And right around when I had stopped bawling my eyes out our time was up and little S was tired of waiting and came upstairs. Like any jealous and possessive six-year-old she did her very best to not only lay on top of us but also slide herself down between us, so that the mommy-hug became two mommies hugging her, instead of two adults hugging eachother. Ah well.
The crux of the matter is I guess what it was Mistress answered to. I asked a very broad question, concerning our whole relationship, my whole existance almost. She answered a very narrow specific question regarding the immediate situation.
When we came home the water was frozen. This is our first winter in this house, and it has so far been a very mild one. We've been gone for a week, and during this week it has suddenly gotten cold. There's a cable that needs to be plugged in so that the water in the pipes doesn't freeze, and we hadn't done that, and so their was no water in the house.
This was quite easily resolved by plugging in the cable and waiting a while, but before we figured it all out and solved it, Mistress got really tense. It had been bad winter weather on the drive home too, and she really doesn't like that either. In the end she had a fit, she talked to little S in an angry voice, hit herself in the head with her fist, and stormed off. I freaked out and got very angry (also pouty and moody) and it was when we tried to resolve this everything went from bad to worse.
So when I asked can I trust you, Mistress heard: "Can I trust you to never be stressed out over a crisis again? Can I trust you to never lose your temper, have a fit an storm off?". And she answered very truthfully: No. Because even she really tries, and even if she agress that it was unneccesary and wish she had kept her cool, she can't promise me it wont happen again. Honestly, it has happened on a regular basis since I've known her, so it's pretty much the other way around; no matter how hard she tries, she most probably will do it again.
The question, then, is; can I trust her? Can I trust her, even though she throws fits when she gets stresses, even though she hits herself in the head when she gets overwhelmed, even though she answers literarily to a loaded question in the middle of a relational crisis without regards to hwo that answer might be interpreted? Can I trust her, when this is who she is and how she will behave?
Yes, absolutely. Everyday, for the rest of my life. I don't care what idiotic things she says when she's lost her theory of mind due to stress. I trust her.
I belong to her, and I trust.
When we were arguing, or rather trying to solve things instead of arguing, I hugged Mistress, rested my head against her chest and asked "Can I trust you?". Meaning "I want to trust you, no matter what, I don't care what just happened, I don't care about our problems - if you say you'll be there, I'll believe you, and everything else will take care of itself. Just tell me I can trust you, and I will."
That's what I meant, and that's what I was expecting an answer to. That was, however, not how she interpreted the question, and she answered, calmly and with sincerity: "No".
So there. For me, that was kind of it. I tore lose, told her she made me panic and that I couldn't believe she just said that. She changed the subject and went to check on some practicality. I told her to go to Hell, ran upstairs, slammed the door, threw myself on the bed and cried.
For me, her answer was practically the same as thrusting a divorce paper under my nose. If she herself says I can't trust her - how can I? And if I can't trust her, if she doesn't even bother about trying to behave in a way that I can trust, if she just disregard that as something unimportant, how can I submit to her? And I know, by now, that any other type relationship will dry up and go stale very fast for me. But the thing is that I have absolutely nowhere to go.
It doesn't matter how mad or sad or frustrated or heartbroken she makes me. I can't imagine a life without her, either emotionally or in a practical sense. All my dreams, all my hopes and plans and ideas, are tied to her. Everything I want to do, I want to do together with her. The idea of doing anything without her felt lika a vast, black gulf opening before me.
But on the other hand there were those words: "Can I trust you?" "No."
Well, she followed me after a few minutes, laid herself literary atop of me, like a rather heavy duvet (heavy for a duvet, that is - she's not that heavy for a human). She hugged me and said she wanted to make things better, and that whatever I had heard or interpreted was wrong and that I could trust that she loved me and wanted me and would always do her best to take her of me. That made it kind of better.
And right around when I had stopped bawling my eyes out our time was up and little S was tired of waiting and came upstairs. Like any jealous and possessive six-year-old she did her very best to not only lay on top of us but also slide herself down between us, so that the mommy-hug became two mommies hugging her, instead of two adults hugging eachother. Ah well.
The crux of the matter is I guess what it was Mistress answered to. I asked a very broad question, concerning our whole relationship, my whole existance almost. She answered a very narrow specific question regarding the immediate situation.
When we came home the water was frozen. This is our first winter in this house, and it has so far been a very mild one. We've been gone for a week, and during this week it has suddenly gotten cold. There's a cable that needs to be plugged in so that the water in the pipes doesn't freeze, and we hadn't done that, and so their was no water in the house.
This was quite easily resolved by plugging in the cable and waiting a while, but before we figured it all out and solved it, Mistress got really tense. It had been bad winter weather on the drive home too, and she really doesn't like that either. In the end she had a fit, she talked to little S in an angry voice, hit herself in the head with her fist, and stormed off. I freaked out and got very angry (also pouty and moody) and it was when we tried to resolve this everything went from bad to worse.
So when I asked can I trust you, Mistress heard: "Can I trust you to never be stressed out over a crisis again? Can I trust you to never lose your temper, have a fit an storm off?". And she answered very truthfully: No. Because even she really tries, and even if she agress that it was unneccesary and wish she had kept her cool, she can't promise me it wont happen again. Honestly, it has happened on a regular basis since I've known her, so it's pretty much the other way around; no matter how hard she tries, she most probably will do it again.
The question, then, is; can I trust her? Can I trust her, even though she throws fits when she gets stresses, even though she hits herself in the head when she gets overwhelmed, even though she answers literarily to a loaded question in the middle of a relational crisis without regards to hwo that answer might be interpreted? Can I trust her, when this is who she is and how she will behave?
Yes, absolutely. Everyday, for the rest of my life. I don't care what idiotic things she says when she's lost her theory of mind due to stress. I trust her.
I belong to her, and I trust.
Seesaw
And then we got home and within three hours I was in the fetal position in our bed, crying my eyes out and accusing Mistress of breaking up with me. I hate that we do this. It's like some weird seesaw, if we are starting to get closer and more intimate, we somehow always end up with epic fights that rip us apart. I hate that.
This is so freaking normal for us, we've been doing this song and dance since we first fell in love. We have learnt, however, to make up faster than before. It took only a few hours before we had settled down again and were cuddling on the sofa.
I slept badly though, and feel a little off today. Even though we make it better, it still hurts. Words were said that can't be unsaid, and I feel a little tender and wary. I want to be loving and trusting and open and submitting. But that also makes me vulnerable and sensitive, which means both that I notice things and care more about things, and that things that hurt me hurts much more.
This is so freaking normal for us, we've been doing this song and dance since we first fell in love. We have learnt, however, to make up faster than before. It took only a few hours before we had settled down again and were cuddling on the sofa.
I slept badly though, and feel a little off today. Even though we make it better, it still hurts. Words were said that can't be unsaid, and I feel a little tender and wary. I want to be loving and trusting and open and submitting. But that also makes me vulnerable and sensitive, which means both that I notice things and care more about things, and that things that hurt me hurts much more.
Dec 29, 2015
Mission: dressing gown
We've been talking a lot the last few days. Good talks, about what we can do to bring more of the magic back into our relationship. There's nothing wrong with the foundation, it's rock solid. But having the kid, me being sick, moving a couple of times; the stress of the last few years has made us trim away everything that isn't absolutely necessary. We have a good cake, but all the frosting is gone. And the filling. And also the spoon, platters and well everything except the cake part. And it's kind of boring.
One of the things we've talked about is the time each night when little S has fallen asleep and we have a couple of hours before bedtime. Usually we do some necessary things first, clean up in the kitchen, talk about household administration stuff, maybe take a shower or prepare stuff for the next day. And then we usually make us some tea and sandwiches and snuggle on the couch in front of the telly. Without making any big changes this time could be used much more to reinforce our roles, to be us in a way we can't be in front of little S or other people.
So we discussed if it wouldn't be much better if I was naked. And yes, that would be a good way to reinforce my status in comparison to Mistress, and it would leave me vulnerable and make me feel more submissive. It would also, unfortunately, probably leave me with a cold. The house is usually around 17-18 degrees Celsius, and that's just below comfortable temperature if you don't have clothes. Actually we usually have a warm sweater on, sometimes long johns too, and always warm socks and slippers.
Okay then, but why not a nice dressing robe?
So I have an assignment - before January 6th I am to present three different alternatives for sexy, cosy dressing robes to Mistress.
Here they are:
Dressing gown Hemtex
Dressing gown Twilfit
Dressing gown Sova
One of the things we've talked about is the time each night when little S has fallen asleep and we have a couple of hours before bedtime. Usually we do some necessary things first, clean up in the kitchen, talk about household administration stuff, maybe take a shower or prepare stuff for the next day. And then we usually make us some tea and sandwiches and snuggle on the couch in front of the telly. Without making any big changes this time could be used much more to reinforce our roles, to be us in a way we can't be in front of little S or other people.
So we discussed if it wouldn't be much better if I was naked. And yes, that would be a good way to reinforce my status in comparison to Mistress, and it would leave me vulnerable and make me feel more submissive. It would also, unfortunately, probably leave me with a cold. The house is usually around 17-18 degrees Celsius, and that's just below comfortable temperature if you don't have clothes. Actually we usually have a warm sweater on, sometimes long johns too, and always warm socks and slippers.
Okay then, but why not a nice dressing robe?
So I have an assignment - before January 6th I am to present three different alternatives for sexy, cosy dressing robes to Mistress.
Here they are:
Dressing gown Hemtex
Dressing gown Twilfit
Dressing gown Sova
Oct 29, 2015
Home alone
I'm home alone all day, little S is at a day camp and Mistress is working. So far I've gotten involved in some heated internet debate about subsidised day care, and gotten all wound up in a way I know Mistress wouldn't approve of. So I'm trying to quit it for the day. I've finally made a fire in the kitchen range, and made some coffee.
And yeah, that's about it. It's after ten in the morning, and so far I've had a great day off. I will put some real clothes on any time now. I'm sure of it.
And yeah, that's about it. It's after ten in the morning, and so far I've had a great day off. I will put some real clothes on any time now. I'm sure of it.
Oct 27, 2015
Life by the woods
We had a lovely day today. Both at home, little S at day camp petting horses and bunnies. We put up some shelves and curtains, and took a walk in our woods. Had lunch in front of the teve, and then some spanking and sex. I was pretty much spent after that and haven't done much of anything afterwards. Mistress went to get little S, they're getting sushi dinner at a shopping mall and I'm supposed to go get something for myself about now. I'll do that, anytime now.
We have woods. We took a walk together in our woods. That we own. It's marvellous, amazing. We've lived here for two months now, but this was actually the first time we had the opportunity to explore together. It's not like we've bought all that much, it took us about 45 minutes to go around the perimeter of the woods We have some fields too, and a big outhouse. There will be horses there, eventually, and chickens and maybe sheep. Or miniature cows, who knows, it might happen. For now, it's still empty.
We have this beautiful big timber two storey house, with tile stoves and a huge kitchen range. We've bought another car, and we have to drive little S twenty minutes to her school, and I have ten minutes drive to the train station and then about twenty more minutes to work. If we run out of milk we have to take our coffee black, and when we realised to our horror that we had run out of coffee before guests arrived we had to text them and ask them to buy some on the way, because a round trip to the store takes about an hour all in all. It's not all that convenient.
But it's beautiful and it's quiet and even when we had a whole family with little kids staying the night it didn't seem crowded. We have neighbours, the house is in the center of an old farm village, but we can't hear them and there's almost no cars going past. We here the neighbours' chickens, and cows and horses, and sometimes the ravens talking about raven things across the fields. And the wind in the birches. But that's about it.
I think we'll be happy here.
We have woods. We took a walk together in our woods. That we own. It's marvellous, amazing. We've lived here for two months now, but this was actually the first time we had the opportunity to explore together. It's not like we've bought all that much, it took us about 45 minutes to go around the perimeter of the woods We have some fields too, and a big outhouse. There will be horses there, eventually, and chickens and maybe sheep. Or miniature cows, who knows, it might happen. For now, it's still empty.
We have this beautiful big timber two storey house, with tile stoves and a huge kitchen range. We've bought another car, and we have to drive little S twenty minutes to her school, and I have ten minutes drive to the train station and then about twenty more minutes to work. If we run out of milk we have to take our coffee black, and when we realised to our horror that we had run out of coffee before guests arrived we had to text them and ask them to buy some on the way, because a round trip to the store takes about an hour all in all. It's not all that convenient.
But it's beautiful and it's quiet and even when we had a whole family with little kids staying the night it didn't seem crowded. We have neighbours, the house is in the center of an old farm village, but we can't hear them and there's almost no cars going past. We here the neighbours' chickens, and cows and horses, and sometimes the ravens talking about raven things across the fields. And the wind in the birches. But that's about it.
I think we'll be happy here.
 |
| The house. |
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| View from the balcony. |
Jul 17, 2015
Life, in general. And stress induced amnesia.
So yeah, it was awhile ago since I blogged. And that's okay, it happens to everyone. But... I actually had to go to http://slavetomasterblog.blogspot.se/ tp check her blogroll to remember the name of this place. That'
s bad. That's really bad.
I do have the excuse that my life has been completely topsy-turvy for about a month now, and that I should probably be happy about remembering my own name at least.
My job contract was up in June and I was offered to stay on but in the end I changed jobs which means we'
re relocating after the summer. Or rather re-relocating, we're going home again. Mistress has been working from home alternating with travelling a lot, and we're moving back to closer to her actual workplace, and our home town. It's all good, I think it will be a good job for me and we never really settled in here anyway. But it's changes, and changes are hard.
And we've found and bought this amazing house. We're moving in August 14th, and we can't wait. We're both on vacation until then and little S is home with us, and yesterday we came home from a two week road trip to the south ofSweden. Before that I did three weeks at the new job, sleeping at a friends' house during the weekdays, and yeah, we haven't had decent routines or anything resembling order and structure for over a month.
But amazingly we're both good with each other. We have all sorts of stress induced symptoms, from cold sores to panic attacks, but we're in love and secure with each other. A couple of weeks ago this kind of stress and lack of alone time would have driven us at each others throats and induced hundreds of "you don't really love me!!!" meltdowns. I'm so glad we're not doing that right now.
The house though. The house! We found our dreamhouse, it's perfect in so many ways. It never even got out on the market, we heard about it from a friend of my moms. I got a phone number to "someone who wants to sell their house, you should call her" and got up my nerve and did. I'm so glad I did, Mistress wasn't even at home that week, and I was in all kinds of jitters (I have a bit of a phone phobia, calling strangers is not my favourite pastime).
We arranged to check it out on the way to somewhere else and got thirty minutes roaming around with a overexcited little S hanging around our throats while making small talks to the current owners. And two days later we made an offer and they accepted and well, we bought it.
It's built somewhere before 1850, a very classic red two story Swedish farm house. It's got original floor boards that are 50 cm wide, five fireplaces (one in the master bedroom) and it's beautifully renovated with all modern appliances. We don't have to do a thing, we're just moving in.
It also got 8 acres of land, and several outbuildings with different functions. One is a stable, and we're getting horses! Probably not this fall, since there is some work to do to make the woods and the farm land into pasture and get the outbuildings in to use, but next summer for sure.
We have our own woods! With hunting rights. Well, we have land for almost anything we might like to do. The school bus stops just outside the house, it's in a little village with other kids (though we don't know ages and whether or not they are playmate-material of course) and it's just perfect.
s bad. That's really bad.
I do have the excuse that my life has been completely topsy-turvy for about a month now, and that I should probably be happy about remembering my own name at least.
My job contract was up in June and I was offered to stay on but in the end I changed jobs which means we'
re relocating after the summer. Or rather re-relocating, we're going home again. Mistress has been working from home alternating with travelling a lot, and we're moving back to closer to her actual workplace, and our home town. It's all good, I think it will be a good job for me and we never really settled in here anyway. But it's changes, and changes are hard.
And we've found and bought this amazing house. We're moving in August 14th, and we can't wait. We're both on vacation until then and little S is home with us, and yesterday we came home from a two week road trip to the south ofSweden. Before that I did three weeks at the new job, sleeping at a friends' house during the weekdays, and yeah, we haven't had decent routines or anything resembling order and structure for over a month.
But amazingly we're both good with each other. We have all sorts of stress induced symptoms, from cold sores to panic attacks, but we're in love and secure with each other. A couple of weeks ago this kind of stress and lack of alone time would have driven us at each others throats and induced hundreds of "you don't really love me!!!" meltdowns. I'm so glad we're not doing that right now.
The house though. The house! We found our dreamhouse, it's perfect in so many ways. It never even got out on the market, we heard about it from a friend of my moms. I got a phone number to "someone who wants to sell their house, you should call her" and got up my nerve and did. I'm so glad I did, Mistress wasn't even at home that week, and I was in all kinds of jitters (I have a bit of a phone phobia, calling strangers is not my favourite pastime).
We arranged to check it out on the way to somewhere else and got thirty minutes roaming around with a overexcited little S hanging around our throats while making small talks to the current owners. And two days later we made an offer and they accepted and well, we bought it.
It's built somewhere before 1850, a very classic red two story Swedish farm house. It's got original floor boards that are 50 cm wide, five fireplaces (one in the master bedroom) and it's beautifully renovated with all modern appliances. We don't have to do a thing, we're just moving in.
It also got 8 acres of land, and several outbuildings with different functions. One is a stable, and we're getting horses! Probably not this fall, since there is some work to do to make the woods and the farm land into pasture and get the outbuildings in to use, but next summer for sure.
We have our own woods! With hunting rights. Well, we have land for almost anything we might like to do. The school bus stops just outside the house, it's in a little village with other kids (though we don't know ages and whether or not they are playmate-material of course) and it's just perfect.
Oct 25, 2014
Life and plans and mice and men...
We've been talking about life goals a bit, about plans for the future and what we want to happen in our lifes. The big stuff, the big picture. I make happy fairy tale plans for the future all the time, with Mistress humouring me and humming along, without making any commitment either way. That's just how we do it, because we have different needs when it comes to planning.
But now Mistress is the one initiating it, and it feels great. When it's just me, it's just dreaming. I can dream all I want, but I can't make anything happen. The wheels doesn't start to turn until she is onboard.
My job contract ends in June 2015. It's very likely I'll be offered another position then, with better pay, at the same place. I could go on doing what I'm doing in the same office with the same colleagues. If I want to.
Mistress has a deal with her employer about working from home for the duration of my job contract, but whether or not she could prolong that is uncertain. It might be okay, it might not, it's hard to say. And I'm not sure she wants to, either, she'll get new assignments at work around that time that might mean she needs to be more on sight anyway.
And in June I'm going to get my license, provided I keep working like I've been for the last six months, and that means the job offers available to me will increase drastically. There's a lot more job offers out there for licensed psychologists than for those just out of school.
In August 2015, little S starts school. That's absolutely crazy, I have a very hard time wrapping my head around that one. But that means wherever we are at that time will be her first year in school, and if we move after that, she's going to have to change schools, and that's a hassle I'd like to spare her. If we can - it might not be possible.
And... the trickiest part. I'm 34. We've been talking about having another baby since little S was born, five years ago. And if we're going to do that, we need to do it sometime soon. It's not to late, not at all, but it's not something that we're comfortable postponing for say another ten years or so either. We could, but the risks increases, and we can't just have sex without protection and hope for the best. If we want a baby, we need to take active steps to make it happen.
Mistress is ten years my senior, and she says she's starting to feel old (mind you, she threatend to whack me in the head with an iron saucepan when I was complaining about feeling old at 18, and she was 28 and had "about to be 30"-angst. So her feeling to old isn't really a new phenomena.)
All this means that the coming year we have to make some big decisions. Where are we going to live, and how are we going to make a living? Are we going to try to have another baby, or are we happy and content with having an only child? We need seclusion and hate having neighbours, but we want good communications and a well stocked grocery store. I dream about dogs and horses, and we both crave nature - woods and water and a view.
How do we reconcile those dreams with our needs to live in a culture rich environment where we feel safe and don't have to deal with prejudice against same-sex couples? Where will little S thrive the most? How do we balance our needs against the need to be close to our respective parents? And jobs - we need jobs that's stimulating and fun and reasonably well paid, and not to far from wherever we choose to live.
Yesterday we were cuddling on the sofa, hashing all this out, pondering this and that and the other, and circled around the question of another baby. I mentioned that when we were discussing it a time table showed up in my head. That we should keep working on being healthy and losing weight, so that I was in the shape I need to be to safely get pregnant at the end of this year, and that we should start arrangements with the relevant hospital in January 2015. If I got pregnant sometime during the spring of 2015, I would be able to finish my job contract, and be eligible for paid parental leave when the baby arrives.
And do you know what Mistress said? She said "I think that sounds reasonable. I feel the same way."
And that means it's on. It's on! It's the best gift I've gotten for a long time. She said yes!
We're going to have another baby!
(We just need to take care of some things first. Like me losing 10% of my current body weight. And oh, actually get pregnant. But apart from that, it's all settled!)
But now Mistress is the one initiating it, and it feels great. When it's just me, it's just dreaming. I can dream all I want, but I can't make anything happen. The wheels doesn't start to turn until she is onboard.
My job contract ends in June 2015. It's very likely I'll be offered another position then, with better pay, at the same place. I could go on doing what I'm doing in the same office with the same colleagues. If I want to.
Mistress has a deal with her employer about working from home for the duration of my job contract, but whether or not she could prolong that is uncertain. It might be okay, it might not, it's hard to say. And I'm not sure she wants to, either, she'll get new assignments at work around that time that might mean she needs to be more on sight anyway.
And in June I'm going to get my license, provided I keep working like I've been for the last six months, and that means the job offers available to me will increase drastically. There's a lot more job offers out there for licensed psychologists than for those just out of school.
In August 2015, little S starts school. That's absolutely crazy, I have a very hard time wrapping my head around that one. But that means wherever we are at that time will be her first year in school, and if we move after that, she's going to have to change schools, and that's a hassle I'd like to spare her. If we can - it might not be possible.
And... the trickiest part. I'm 34. We've been talking about having another baby since little S was born, five years ago. And if we're going to do that, we need to do it sometime soon. It's not to late, not at all, but it's not something that we're comfortable postponing for say another ten years or so either. We could, but the risks increases, and we can't just have sex without protection and hope for the best. If we want a baby, we need to take active steps to make it happen.
Mistress is ten years my senior, and she says she's starting to feel old (mind you, she threatend to whack me in the head with an iron saucepan when I was complaining about feeling old at 18, and she was 28 and had "about to be 30"-angst. So her feeling to old isn't really a new phenomena.)
All this means that the coming year we have to make some big decisions. Where are we going to live, and how are we going to make a living? Are we going to try to have another baby, or are we happy and content with having an only child? We need seclusion and hate having neighbours, but we want good communications and a well stocked grocery store. I dream about dogs and horses, and we both crave nature - woods and water and a view.
How do we reconcile those dreams with our needs to live in a culture rich environment where we feel safe and don't have to deal with prejudice against same-sex couples? Where will little S thrive the most? How do we balance our needs against the need to be close to our respective parents? And jobs - we need jobs that's stimulating and fun and reasonably well paid, and not to far from wherever we choose to live.
Yesterday we were cuddling on the sofa, hashing all this out, pondering this and that and the other, and circled around the question of another baby. I mentioned that when we were discussing it a time table showed up in my head. That we should keep working on being healthy and losing weight, so that I was in the shape I need to be to safely get pregnant at the end of this year, and that we should start arrangements with the relevant hospital in January 2015. If I got pregnant sometime during the spring of 2015, I would be able to finish my job contract, and be eligible for paid parental leave when the baby arrives.
And do you know what Mistress said? She said "I think that sounds reasonable. I feel the same way."
And that means it's on. It's on! It's the best gift I've gotten for a long time. She said yes!
We're going to have another baby!
(We just need to take care of some things first. Like me losing 10% of my current body weight. And oh, actually get pregnant. But apart from that, it's all settled!)
Apr 29, 2014
Longing
Did you guys know that working full time means less time to write blog posts? Huh! Who'dhavethunk?
I'm very very much in two minds about the whole thing. I like the job. I love being a therapist. I hate being away from Mistress, and I feel all lost and alone and shaky because I don't have my family with me.
I'm still hers. Amazingly, that doesn't waiver. But oh my God it's hard to be separated.
I'm very very much in two minds about the whole thing. I like the job. I love being a therapist. I hate being away from Mistress, and I feel all lost and alone and shaky because I don't have my family with me.
I'm still hers. Amazingly, that doesn't waiver. But oh my God it's hard to be separated.
Dec 19, 2013
Winter and viruses
Okay, so November and December has played out like this for me; first a nasty cold that lasted about a week. Immediately after that, another nasty cold that lasted for about a week. At the end of that Mistress was travelling for a few days, and I made the extremely stupid decision to eat an ice-cream that turned out to be covered in hazelnuts. I'm allergic to hazelnuts. In the end I ate horrible allergy medicin for ten days, which had all kinds of icky side-effects, including mind-numbing fatigue.
Eventually I could stop eating those horrid pills, we hade a nice, slow mini-vacation at my in-laws place and I was starting to feel like human again. Two days after we got home little S got a stomach bug and was a puking, pityful mess for two days, and right after that her cough got worse and she too got a cold. And well, I followed suit, got the stomach bug and now the cold.
I hate viruses! I hate winter! I hate being sick. I haven't been to the gym for over a month.
And if I ever thought I don't contribute to the household or ease Mistress' burden? Well, I'm wrong. When I'm under the weather, it shows.
I want to go to the gym! I want to have sex! I want to feel healthy and not worry about spreading viruses to people I meet.
Also, my mom had a stroke this week. Not a big one, she lost part of her vocabulary and felt dizzy and confused but not more than that, and she's already recovering. But it scared the hell out of us, and I'm probably a bit in denial still. I'm not really ready to think through the ramifications of this, and neither is she I think.
Anyway, sucky month in a lot of ways. I'm longing for spring.
Eventually I could stop eating those horrid pills, we hade a nice, slow mini-vacation at my in-laws place and I was starting to feel like human again. Two days after we got home little S got a stomach bug and was a puking, pityful mess for two days, and right after that her cough got worse and she too got a cold. And well, I followed suit, got the stomach bug and now the cold.
I hate viruses! I hate winter! I hate being sick. I haven't been to the gym for over a month.
And if I ever thought I don't contribute to the household or ease Mistress' burden? Well, I'm wrong. When I'm under the weather, it shows.
I want to go to the gym! I want to have sex! I want to feel healthy and not worry about spreading viruses to people I meet.
Also, my mom had a stroke this week. Not a big one, she lost part of her vocabulary and felt dizzy and confused but not more than that, and she's already recovering. But it scared the hell out of us, and I'm probably a bit in denial still. I'm not really ready to think through the ramifications of this, and neither is she I think.
Anyway, sucky month in a lot of ways. I'm longing for spring.
Dec 9, 2013
Shame
Shame is one of the most destructive feelings I know. A lot of the crap that has happened to me, and most of all the crap that I have been instrumental in allowing to happen, has been caused by shame.
And I'm ashamed all the time. Or at least very often. For a very long time in my youth I didn't have any memories. Every time something would pop up in my mind, there would be something shameful associated with it, and I would immediately shut it down. That feeling, that dread coursing through the body, the wish to disappear, to cease existing, it's awful. At times, it has controlled my life.
I have two major things I'm ashamed of, and one is not being liked. I grew up knowing I wasn't loved (as an adult, I've started to think that I probably was, but that can't change my experience as a kid), and I was bullied in school on top of that. I had two best friends, both of whom betrayed me horribly, first one at twelve and the next one at fourteen, and contributed to the bullying. So that's one. The other one is not being good enough.
I have ADHD, but no one knew that. I grew up trying harder than everyone around me, and still coming up short. I was always late, didn't do the things I was supposed to, forgot stuff, didn't clean up after myself, made a mess, broke stuff, and so on. I was constantly not living up to the expectations from people around me - people like my parents and teachers, who saw a smart, talented, charming kid who for some reason just didn't seem to care or try very hard. While, at the same time, I was working like crazy to get through each day, and not letting anyone see that I was struggling. Because of shame.
If I hadn't been ashamed, maybe someone would have known what my life was really like. Maybe I could have told an adult about the bullying. Maybe I could have explained that I did my very best and still couldn't manage to do homework - that I did care, a lot, but just couldn't make it work. If I hadn't been ashamed. But I was ashamed, and I much preferred being labelled lazy and unambitious than having people know I couldn't do it.
And that haunts me still.
I've been sick lately, on top of my ongoing issues with mental fatigue and burn out. I'm getting better, but it's a bumpy road, as always. Mistress has taken two day off of work and we've gone to her parents for a mini vacation. Today I took little S on a shopping trip so that Mistress could get some time for herself and work, and after lunch I accompanied my mother in law to the vet with one of the dogs, a big rottweiler that doesn't particularly like other dogs and last time had made a big fuss while waiting for the vet. I'm pretty proud of how I handled it, there was no wrestling matches or incessant barking this time, but after that and picking up som groceries, I was pretty much wiped. I spent the afternoon in bed, and at dinner time I was all kinds of woozy, feeling sick and dizzy and thinking I wouldn't survive the evening.
On top of that, Mistress had asked me earlier to take care of little S after dinner so that she could work some more, and it made me rather panicky, because I really didn't think I would be up for it. And again, that made me overwhelmed with shame.
Every time I'm asked, especially by Mistress, to do something that is beyond what I can do without feeling seriously ill or paying a heavy price afterwards I get terribly ashamed. I'm awashed in it.
In the end I did take care of little S while Mistress worked, we had a nice time playing a game on the iPad together, and it wasn't so difficult. It helped that little S was in a good mood and stayed focused on the game.
And then eventually the day was over with little S going to bed downstairs with grandma, and I started to relax and feel like maybe, maybe I was okay, maybe I had made it. And the first thing Mistress says to me is along the lines of "oh, we said we should work tonight, we need to do that thing with the survey job".
And at that point my head exploded. The shame got to me, the camel's back was broken by the last straw, the last drop made the glass of water overflow in a cascade of liquid anguish all over the kitchen floor, and I could feel my brain changing gears in to crazy mood.
Because in my mind her even suggesting that I would be up for anything more strenous at that point ment I must be a total failure. A let down. Not good enough. That nothing I had done, nothing I had achieved or managed or made myself do had been worth anything. No matter how hard I strain and press myself, it's not even close to being enough. I'll never be enough. I'll never do enough. I can't be good enough, I can't be loved or worthy of love, I can't achieve anything that makes me fit to even live and breath, I haven't earned my keep, neither as her wife, her property nor even as a human being. I need to work 'til I drop and die and be done with it, because nothing else will cut it.
So yeah. It wasn't a great conversation starter, as such. To my credit, all I said was that I wasn't up for it, that I was hurt and upset that she suggested it, and that I wanted to go lay down in the bedroom, alone. That might not sound like a very tempered or reasonable response but compared to what my brain was screaming at me, I was positively cheerful.
And then I did just that, went and laid down, and instead of rehashing every slight and every shameful moment and debating with myself whether I was right to be hurt or not, I did a mindfulness-exercise, a simple but thorough body scan. I can do that now, that's pretty cool actually, even with my mind on fire with anguish and panic and shame I can redirect my consious focus on something of my own choosing.
The feelings are still there, the discomfort and panic and adrenalin surge through the body, but I can still focus my attention on my left toe, my left foot, the leg, the knee and so on. It takes about twenty minutes to go through the whole body, and by then the panic has subsided, the raging fires of despair has died from lack of things to devour, and everythings a little more settled. It's a neat trick.
We talked about it, of course, afterwards, and we'll figure something out. But shame. I hate it. It's the least constructive thing ever. I'm working on it.
And I'm ashamed all the time. Or at least very often. For a very long time in my youth I didn't have any memories. Every time something would pop up in my mind, there would be something shameful associated with it, and I would immediately shut it down. That feeling, that dread coursing through the body, the wish to disappear, to cease existing, it's awful. At times, it has controlled my life.
I have two major things I'm ashamed of, and one is not being liked. I grew up knowing I wasn't loved (as an adult, I've started to think that I probably was, but that can't change my experience as a kid), and I was bullied in school on top of that. I had two best friends, both of whom betrayed me horribly, first one at twelve and the next one at fourteen, and contributed to the bullying. So that's one. The other one is not being good enough.
I have ADHD, but no one knew that. I grew up trying harder than everyone around me, and still coming up short. I was always late, didn't do the things I was supposed to, forgot stuff, didn't clean up after myself, made a mess, broke stuff, and so on. I was constantly not living up to the expectations from people around me - people like my parents and teachers, who saw a smart, talented, charming kid who for some reason just didn't seem to care or try very hard. While, at the same time, I was working like crazy to get through each day, and not letting anyone see that I was struggling. Because of shame.
If I hadn't been ashamed, maybe someone would have known what my life was really like. Maybe I could have told an adult about the bullying. Maybe I could have explained that I did my very best and still couldn't manage to do homework - that I did care, a lot, but just couldn't make it work. If I hadn't been ashamed. But I was ashamed, and I much preferred being labelled lazy and unambitious than having people know I couldn't do it.
And that haunts me still.
I've been sick lately, on top of my ongoing issues with mental fatigue and burn out. I'm getting better, but it's a bumpy road, as always. Mistress has taken two day off of work and we've gone to her parents for a mini vacation. Today I took little S on a shopping trip so that Mistress could get some time for herself and work, and after lunch I accompanied my mother in law to the vet with one of the dogs, a big rottweiler that doesn't particularly like other dogs and last time had made a big fuss while waiting for the vet. I'm pretty proud of how I handled it, there was no wrestling matches or incessant barking this time, but after that and picking up som groceries, I was pretty much wiped. I spent the afternoon in bed, and at dinner time I was all kinds of woozy, feeling sick and dizzy and thinking I wouldn't survive the evening.
On top of that, Mistress had asked me earlier to take care of little S after dinner so that she could work some more, and it made me rather panicky, because I really didn't think I would be up for it. And again, that made me overwhelmed with shame.
Every time I'm asked, especially by Mistress, to do something that is beyond what I can do without feeling seriously ill or paying a heavy price afterwards I get terribly ashamed. I'm awashed in it.
In the end I did take care of little S while Mistress worked, we had a nice time playing a game on the iPad together, and it wasn't so difficult. It helped that little S was in a good mood and stayed focused on the game.
And then eventually the day was over with little S going to bed downstairs with grandma, and I started to relax and feel like maybe, maybe I was okay, maybe I had made it. And the first thing Mistress says to me is along the lines of "oh, we said we should work tonight, we need to do that thing with the survey job".
And at that point my head exploded. The shame got to me, the camel's back was broken by the last straw, the last drop made the glass of water overflow in a cascade of liquid anguish all over the kitchen floor, and I could feel my brain changing gears in to crazy mood.
Because in my mind her even suggesting that I would be up for anything more strenous at that point ment I must be a total failure. A let down. Not good enough. That nothing I had done, nothing I had achieved or managed or made myself do had been worth anything. No matter how hard I strain and press myself, it's not even close to being enough. I'll never be enough. I'll never do enough. I can't be good enough, I can't be loved or worthy of love, I can't achieve anything that makes me fit to even live and breath, I haven't earned my keep, neither as her wife, her property nor even as a human being. I need to work 'til I drop and die and be done with it, because nothing else will cut it.
So yeah. It wasn't a great conversation starter, as such. To my credit, all I said was that I wasn't up for it, that I was hurt and upset that she suggested it, and that I wanted to go lay down in the bedroom, alone. That might not sound like a very tempered or reasonable response but compared to what my brain was screaming at me, I was positively cheerful.
And then I did just that, went and laid down, and instead of rehashing every slight and every shameful moment and debating with myself whether I was right to be hurt or not, I did a mindfulness-exercise, a simple but thorough body scan. I can do that now, that's pretty cool actually, even with my mind on fire with anguish and panic and shame I can redirect my consious focus on something of my own choosing.
The feelings are still there, the discomfort and panic and adrenalin surge through the body, but I can still focus my attention on my left toe, my left foot, the leg, the knee and so on. It takes about twenty minutes to go through the whole body, and by then the panic has subsided, the raging fires of despair has died from lack of things to devour, and everythings a little more settled. It's a neat trick.
We talked about it, of course, afterwards, and we'll figure something out. But shame. I hate it. It's the least constructive thing ever. I'm working on it.
Dec 1, 2013
"I like your collar"
We went to a party yesterday, a rather unusual event. Even more unusual, it was Mistress that declared she wanted to go, and even RSVPd and everything. My dad came and babysat, and we actually had a great night. It was a friends birthday party, and for me it had an eery feeling of deja vù - this is our old friends. The friends from ten, fifteen years ago, the once I've been afraid of losing since I got pregnant, and busy and tired and sick.
But they're still there, we still get the invites, we're still included and welcomed, and showing up made me feel both as if no time has passed since I was twenty and trying to move away from home and spending all my money on LARP-ing and commuting to my boyfriend out of town, living on oatmeal and spaghetti. And, on the other hand, my God how grown up we are now. A lot of the gang are married, mostly to each other as a matter of fact, those who wanted children are about to have their second go at it (and all the pregnant bellies makes me super-jealous) and most of them have a job instead of ever-on-going university-studies. I kind of like it.
I like the adults we've become. Myself included.
But as per usual, around ten PM I was getting drowsy and Mistress decided to herd me home. We did the good-bye rounds, and as I was hugging a guy I've barely had talked to during the night, I noticed he was eyeing what I thought was my blouse (a pretty blue silk one with a sequined hemline), then for a moment suspected was my cleavage until he said in a kind of low key voice "I like your collar." "Oh" I said, speechless for a moment, and then with a sheepish smile "yeah, I like it too".
Silence.
I had no idea how to continue that line of conversation. What do one say? Was he implying what I thought he was implying? Or was he just complimenting my jewelry? But no - complimenting jewelry you do in a crowd, when you meet, if it happens to be appropriate, you don't specifically wait for a quiet moment and point it out. Not if you don't know what it it is you're trying to say.
"Nice" he said.
"Yeah" I said.
More silence.
"Have you worn it for long?"
"About a year."
"Great!"
"Yeah, I think so too!".
By then the time for the usual quick "bye, nice to see you!"-hug had run out, the flow of people in the room was shifting, and also, I was embarrassed and blushing furiously and couldn't make coherent words anymore, so I just kind of backed off a little, and Mistress hugged her way around the good bye crowd while I was tying my shoe laces and waiting for my face to regain it's normal colour.
I was so outed, one might say. And I really really like it.
I don't want to be secretive, showing one face to the world and my friends and another to Mistress. I don't like this feeling of having a secret life, a secret agenda, being one on the outside and another on the inside.
When my kink-side started appearing I was five, fantasizing about spankings and masturbating without knowing what I was doing. But I always knew that I couldn't talk about it, that I was strange and odd and unnormal. Eventually, it grew in to sexuality, the adult, mature version, and I knew a little more, but it took about fifteen years from the first inklings until I got to see that I wasn't alone. Fifteen years of shame and confusion and knowing I was different.
Since then there's been another almost fifteen years, and I know very well by now that I'm certainly not alone. In fact, not all that few of the friends I tried to hide things from have turned up on the kinky side of the line during the years since then. I'm not ashamed, and I honestly don't think it's that much of a secret, anymore.
But it's still not talked about. It's not something that is reflected by people around me. It doesn't "exist", in the conversations, in the assumptions people make, in the mirrors that my friends eyes turn into when they look at me.
So for my collar to be seen for what it really is, not just a pretty piece of chain around my neck but a significant symbol, as meaningful and telling about my life as my wedding ring, communicating something important about me and about my relationship to Mistress, that felt good. A little bit bewildering in the precise moment it happened, but good.
Also, now I'm deadly curious about my friend and his young wife and their story. Perhaps there's breadcrumbs laying around the 'net, now that I know what I'm looking for? *goes sniffing*
But they're still there, we still get the invites, we're still included and welcomed, and showing up made me feel both as if no time has passed since I was twenty and trying to move away from home and spending all my money on LARP-ing and commuting to my boyfriend out of town, living on oatmeal and spaghetti. And, on the other hand, my God how grown up we are now. A lot of the gang are married, mostly to each other as a matter of fact, those who wanted children are about to have their second go at it (and all the pregnant bellies makes me super-jealous) and most of them have a job instead of ever-on-going university-studies. I kind of like it.
I like the adults we've become. Myself included.
But as per usual, around ten PM I was getting drowsy and Mistress decided to herd me home. We did the good-bye rounds, and as I was hugging a guy I've barely had talked to during the night, I noticed he was eyeing what I thought was my blouse (a pretty blue silk one with a sequined hemline), then for a moment suspected was my cleavage until he said in a kind of low key voice "I like your collar." "Oh" I said, speechless for a moment, and then with a sheepish smile "yeah, I like it too".
Silence.
I had no idea how to continue that line of conversation. What do one say? Was he implying what I thought he was implying? Or was he just complimenting my jewelry? But no - complimenting jewelry you do in a crowd, when you meet, if it happens to be appropriate, you don't specifically wait for a quiet moment and point it out. Not if you don't know what it it is you're trying to say.
"Nice" he said.
"Yeah" I said.
More silence.
"Have you worn it for long?"
"About a year."
"Great!"
"Yeah, I think so too!".
By then the time for the usual quick "bye, nice to see you!"-hug had run out, the flow of people in the room was shifting, and also, I was embarrassed and blushing furiously and couldn't make coherent words anymore, so I just kind of backed off a little, and Mistress hugged her way around the good bye crowd while I was tying my shoe laces and waiting for my face to regain it's normal colour.
I was so outed, one might say. And I really really like it.
I don't want to be secretive, showing one face to the world and my friends and another to Mistress. I don't like this feeling of having a secret life, a secret agenda, being one on the outside and another on the inside.
When my kink-side started appearing I was five, fantasizing about spankings and masturbating without knowing what I was doing. But I always knew that I couldn't talk about it, that I was strange and odd and unnormal. Eventually, it grew in to sexuality, the adult, mature version, and I knew a little more, but it took about fifteen years from the first inklings until I got to see that I wasn't alone. Fifteen years of shame and confusion and knowing I was different.
Since then there's been another almost fifteen years, and I know very well by now that I'm certainly not alone. In fact, not all that few of the friends I tried to hide things from have turned up on the kinky side of the line during the years since then. I'm not ashamed, and I honestly don't think it's that much of a secret, anymore.
But it's still not talked about. It's not something that is reflected by people around me. It doesn't "exist", in the conversations, in the assumptions people make, in the mirrors that my friends eyes turn into when they look at me.
So for my collar to be seen for what it really is, not just a pretty piece of chain around my neck but a significant symbol, as meaningful and telling about my life as my wedding ring, communicating something important about me and about my relationship to Mistress, that felt good. A little bit bewildering in the precise moment it happened, but good.
Also, now I'm deadly curious about my friend and his young wife and their story. Perhaps there's breadcrumbs laying around the 'net, now that I know what I'm looking for? *goes sniffing*
Nov 16, 2013
A cold, a sandwich and being good enough
I never feel less like a slave then when I'm sick. I get all grumpy and touchy and angsty. Being sick triggers bad memories and brings out a lot of tjhe dysfunctionals sides of me. I've been down with a bad cold this whole week, and Mistress' has been a saint about it. I still can't shake the grumpiness though.
And I feel like a failure because I don't do anything useful at home. And she doesn't find me sexy (for some reason snot and a fever is not a turn on it seems) nor does she want to hurt me or play with me. She just manouveurs around me, where I'm slumped in a corner of the couch surrounded by used tissue papers.
Or well, I have been doing some things this week too, ironically a lot more than I ever did the whole of last year. I've vacuumed some of the floors, I've left and picked up the kid at pre-school, and I've managed to get dinner on the table for her and the kid (okay, once that was arranged by me calling ahead to the local pizza-place and she picking the pizzas up on her way home from the bus stop, but still - I orchestrated the process).
And I've made ice-cream two days in a row, but I'm pretty sure that doesn't count since I only made it for myself because well, I don't really think anyone should eat something I make right now unless they intentionally want the cold virus from hell, and I also ate it all both days. But then again, it meant I ate something, points for that.
This morning Mistress had made her usual heroic morning routine and served me tea and sandwich in the living room. This isn't even a special "oh my poor baby is sick" kind of thing, it's our standard morning routine (I'll blog about our mornings one of these days...). Anyway. The sandwich today was for some reason white bread with cold meatballs and mayo.
As the first thing in the morning. When I have a sore throat and no sense of smell nor appetite. And don't even like meatballs in the first place, if they're not homemade, and never cold and never ever on a sandwich.
We haven't had time to discuss it, and I'm honestly afraid to ask, but I guess she had some kind of idea behind it. If she was inclined that way I would have guessed it to be some sort of sadistic, hard-ass test of my obedience. But she doesn't have a habit of doing those kinds of things, and my being grumpy sick and sniffling doesn't really bring forth the creative sadist in her. I think she just had meatballs left over, wanted them eaten, and had one herself and made one for me.
Anyway, I had no idea what to do. I mean, there's no really recommended way to say to your Owner "Hey, I don't like this sandwich, make me another one!". The obvious would of course be to discreetly go and make another one myself. But there's a reason I get served breakfast on the couch, and that reason is four years old and grumpy and clingy in the morning.
Everything goes much easier if I serve as kid-anchor and make sure she gets something inside her, and in the meantime Mistress gets to eat breakfast in peace in the kitchen and usually works at the same time. The whole point of feeding us in the living room is so that she can have some uninterrupted peace and quite with her breakfast and her computer. Me going out there making noise and either having the kid in tow or having her yelling loudly to me from across the apartment would kind of negate that.
I could have just eaten it of course. But no, really, I couldn't. I'm sure Mistress could have made me eat it, no doubts about that, but of my own volition, just because it was laying there beside my cup of tea? No. No way.
In the end Mistress popped her head in to check on us presumably when she had finished her breakfast, looked at me, looked at the sandwich, looked at me again in a way that made my inside kind of cringe, and said "I'll just go make you another one, should I?" And she did, and I happily ate the cheese sandwich she brought and felt more than usually sheepish.
And no, I don't think I'm much of a slave when I'm sick, nor much of a housewife or for that matter not all that great as a wife either, on any scale. But the good thing is that that doesn't matter. Because no matter what, I'm still her property, and that I'm amazingly awesome as. Even when my nose is running and I'm a picky eater.
And I feel like a failure because I don't do anything useful at home. And she doesn't find me sexy (for some reason snot and a fever is not a turn on it seems) nor does she want to hurt me or play with me. She just manouveurs around me, where I'm slumped in a corner of the couch surrounded by used tissue papers.
Or well, I have been doing some things this week too, ironically a lot more than I ever did the whole of last year. I've vacuumed some of the floors, I've left and picked up the kid at pre-school, and I've managed to get dinner on the table for her and the kid (okay, once that was arranged by me calling ahead to the local pizza-place and she picking the pizzas up on her way home from the bus stop, but still - I orchestrated the process).
And I've made ice-cream two days in a row, but I'm pretty sure that doesn't count since I only made it for myself because well, I don't really think anyone should eat something I make right now unless they intentionally want the cold virus from hell, and I also ate it all both days. But then again, it meant I ate something, points for that.
This morning Mistress had made her usual heroic morning routine and served me tea and sandwich in the living room. This isn't even a special "oh my poor baby is sick" kind of thing, it's our standard morning routine (I'll blog about our mornings one of these days...). Anyway. The sandwich today was for some reason white bread with cold meatballs and mayo.
As the first thing in the morning. When I have a sore throat and no sense of smell nor appetite. And don't even like meatballs in the first place, if they're not homemade, and never cold and never ever on a sandwich.
We haven't had time to discuss it, and I'm honestly afraid to ask, but I guess she had some kind of idea behind it. If she was inclined that way I would have guessed it to be some sort of sadistic, hard-ass test of my obedience. But she doesn't have a habit of doing those kinds of things, and my being grumpy sick and sniffling doesn't really bring forth the creative sadist in her. I think she just had meatballs left over, wanted them eaten, and had one herself and made one for me.
Anyway, I had no idea what to do. I mean, there's no really recommended way to say to your Owner "Hey, I don't like this sandwich, make me another one!". The obvious would of course be to discreetly go and make another one myself. But there's a reason I get served breakfast on the couch, and that reason is four years old and grumpy and clingy in the morning.
Everything goes much easier if I serve as kid-anchor and make sure she gets something inside her, and in the meantime Mistress gets to eat breakfast in peace in the kitchen and usually works at the same time. The whole point of feeding us in the living room is so that she can have some uninterrupted peace and quite with her breakfast and her computer. Me going out there making noise and either having the kid in tow or having her yelling loudly to me from across the apartment would kind of negate that.
I could have just eaten it of course. But no, really, I couldn't. I'm sure Mistress could have made me eat it, no doubts about that, but of my own volition, just because it was laying there beside my cup of tea? No. No way.
In the end Mistress popped her head in to check on us presumably when she had finished her breakfast, looked at me, looked at the sandwich, looked at me again in a way that made my inside kind of cringe, and said "I'll just go make you another one, should I?" And she did, and I happily ate the cheese sandwich she brought and felt more than usually sheepish.
And no, I don't think I'm much of a slave when I'm sick, nor much of a housewife or for that matter not all that great as a wife either, on any scale. But the good thing is that that doesn't matter. Because no matter what, I'm still her property, and that I'm amazingly awesome as. Even when my nose is running and I'm a picky eater.
Nov 11, 2013
Rectifying old mistakes
Three days ago, Friday last week, I took an exam that I once failed at. I took it once when I actually studied the course, screwed it up due to lack of studying combined with an excess of strenous weekend activities the days before, and then never got around to fixing it. Of course I had plenty of opportunities, but life just kind of kept going and I never managed to get to it.
Yesterday I took it. I'm quite confident that I'm going to pass, I see no reason why I shouldn't. The big thing, however, is that I actually, at long last, invested the time and the energy to get it done. Or maybe I shouldn't say that I did. I should say that Mistress did.
It's all due to her helping me, focusing me, prioritising all the things in our lives and motivating me. She said I should do this, and now I have.
This is actually the only exam I have ever failed at while studying at the University, and it figures that I never took it again, since I tend to go by "if at first you don't succeed, hide all evidence of ever having tried it" (Hillary Clinton, if I remember correctly). It was my first course ever at the University as a matter of fact, and it was in the year 2000. That's thirteen years ago. Thirteen years has this thing been unresolved, not finished. Now it is (or will be very soon). And even though I did the studying and was the one who held the pen to the paper, she's the one who made it happen.
She's just so amazingly good for me.
(What course it was? English 101. Go figure.)
Yesterday I took it. I'm quite confident that I'm going to pass, I see no reason why I shouldn't. The big thing, however, is that I actually, at long last, invested the time and the energy to get it done. Or maybe I shouldn't say that I did. I should say that Mistress did.
It's all due to her helping me, focusing me, prioritising all the things in our lives and motivating me. She said I should do this, and now I have.
This is actually the only exam I have ever failed at while studying at the University, and it figures that I never took it again, since I tend to go by "if at first you don't succeed, hide all evidence of ever having tried it" (Hillary Clinton, if I remember correctly). It was my first course ever at the University as a matter of fact, and it was in the year 2000. That's thirteen years ago. Thirteen years has this thing been unresolved, not finished. Now it is (or will be very soon). And even though I did the studying and was the one who held the pen to the paper, she's the one who made it happen.
She's just so amazingly good for me.
(What course it was? English 101. Go figure.)
Sep 13, 2013
General weirdness
We actually do have sex and stuff. Kinky sex to. And we're good, relationship-wise. Everythings good(ish). "As well as can be expected under the circumstances" have been my standard reply for the last five years, and it's still true. The circumstances at this particular time being my fucked up brain and it's inability to get better at the rate I want it to.
I've applied for a job I really want, and they haven't gotten back to me, and I lay awake some nights before going to sleep and worry about never getting an employment. But that's nothing new.
All is well, the kid thrive and Mistress isn't hating her job at the moment. She's even getting home earlier today and picks up little S on her way home, yey!
I've been feeling weird all week, and finally realised it's because I upped my dosage of methylfenidat (ADHD-meds) and that caused some weird sensations. Like all the hair standing up all over my body. Some sort of itchy feeling under the skin, all over. And an inability to relax but at the same time extreme exhaustion. Also, I've been doing some funny thing with my teeth, pressing the lower jaw forward so that the lower front teeth are constantly pushing at the upper front teeth. As if I've been going around all week trying to create an under bite by shear force. It wasn't unpleasant, necessarily, not all the time, but it was extremely unsettling and annoying. I lowered the dose yesterday, and now I'm back to being normally exhausted and dim-witted.
Why can't I get to functional normally without feeling high or hyper? Meh. I was enjoying waking up in the morning with a fully awake and functioning brain. Now it's soon 10 AM, and I still feel like a zombie. A sleepy, dazed zombie. Bleergh. I want it all. I want to wake up and being awake, I want to have the energy to go to the gym, make lunch, fill the dishwasher and still be able to form coherent sentences over dinner. But I don't want to go around gnashing my teeth and feeling high all the time.
And I must admit all these weird feelings and health issues makes the O/p-part of things fall into the background a bit. Mistress is my rock, my best friend, my sanity in all this. She owns me, sure, but I know that. It's not something I spend a lot of time thinking about right now. It's just there, thankfully, making me feel connected and present and as a real person even when I have a lot of reasons to feel like I'm a figment of imagination, drifting alone in the darkness of space. I'm real and I'm here, 'cause I'm hers.
And tonight we're having tacos in front of the telly with the kid spilling salsa over the sofa and me and Mistress cuddling a little behind her back. Just because stuff feels weird inside my brain it doesn't mean that's what the world actually looks like.
I've applied for a job I really want, and they haven't gotten back to me, and I lay awake some nights before going to sleep and worry about never getting an employment. But that's nothing new.
All is well, the kid thrive and Mistress isn't hating her job at the moment. She's even getting home earlier today and picks up little S on her way home, yey!
I've been feeling weird all week, and finally realised it's because I upped my dosage of methylfenidat (ADHD-meds) and that caused some weird sensations. Like all the hair standing up all over my body. Some sort of itchy feeling under the skin, all over. And an inability to relax but at the same time extreme exhaustion. Also, I've been doing some funny thing with my teeth, pressing the lower jaw forward so that the lower front teeth are constantly pushing at the upper front teeth. As if I've been going around all week trying to create an under bite by shear force. It wasn't unpleasant, necessarily, not all the time, but it was extremely unsettling and annoying. I lowered the dose yesterday, and now I'm back to being normally exhausted and dim-witted.
Why can't I get to functional normally without feeling high or hyper? Meh. I was enjoying waking up in the morning with a fully awake and functioning brain. Now it's soon 10 AM, and I still feel like a zombie. A sleepy, dazed zombie. Bleergh. I want it all. I want to wake up and being awake, I want to have the energy to go to the gym, make lunch, fill the dishwasher and still be able to form coherent sentences over dinner. But I don't want to go around gnashing my teeth and feeling high all the time.
And I must admit all these weird feelings and health issues makes the O/p-part of things fall into the background a bit. Mistress is my rock, my best friend, my sanity in all this. She owns me, sure, but I know that. It's not something I spend a lot of time thinking about right now. It's just there, thankfully, making me feel connected and present and as a real person even when I have a lot of reasons to feel like I'm a figment of imagination, drifting alone in the darkness of space. I'm real and I'm here, 'cause I'm hers.
And tonight we're having tacos in front of the telly with the kid spilling salsa over the sofa and me and Mistress cuddling a little behind her back. Just because stuff feels weird inside my brain it doesn't mean that's what the world actually looks like.
Aug 8, 2013
Big small things
Sometimes there is so much to say that nothing comes out. We're great, though. We had an amazing Pride Stockholm and our four week vacation ended yesterday. Mistress is back at work, the kid is back in pre-school, and I'm... I'm not in school, because I'm all done and graduated. This is a bit of a time for orientation and reflection. I'm not really sure where I'm going to go from here, or what's going to happen on a practical level in our lives, but I'm pretty sure it's going to be great.
Today I did the weekly grocery shopping. For the first time in a year, at least. I was actually a bit nervous, but I could do it, without falling to pieces afterwards. I even put away the groceries when I got home. Amazing what I can accomplish when I'm not sick and not studying full time.
It's a bit disorienting, this new daily life I have all of a sudden. I'm not exhausted all the time any more. It leaves me a little bewildered.
Today I did the weekly grocery shopping. For the first time in a year, at least. I was actually a bit nervous, but I could do it, without falling to pieces afterwards. I even put away the groceries when I got home. Amazing what I can accomplish when I'm not sick and not studying full time.
It's a bit disorienting, this new daily life I have all of a sudden. I'm not exhausted all the time any more. It leaves me a little bewildered.
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