Ow-Triggering subject matter

Today there was a posting on one of the lifestyle lists about the death of a little girl in Cedar Rapids. She died at the hands of a child molester. One of the list members posted about being bewildered about how the mother could let the situation continue.

Why indeed. I doubt the list member's life has ever been touched by child molestation else he wouldn't be so bewildered.

I used to ask myself the same questions, I still do. More often I beat myself with the realization that had I acted on previous doubts and suspicions I would have prevented what happened to our daughter.

The fact is none of us wants to believe someone we know, love, and trust is capable of such a heinous crime against a child. Especially if we could never conceive of doing such a thing ourselves.

It isn't easy to accept that your judgment and trust were so off. Especially if you yourself survived childhood sexual abuse. I used to believe that I knew what to look for, that my instincts were spot on. In truth, they were, but the person being a family friend for many, many years, made me ignore my instincts.

Master wishes I would let this go and quit beating myself up about it. I wish to the gods that I could. I don't enjoy the pain of it. But I feel so very strongly that I let our girl down. Her recent attitude issues and outright hostility toward us feels like punishment for letting her down. How can I forget when I have a daily reminder?

Okay, back on topic. Society, as a whole, dehumanizes child molesters so when we suspect someone we know, we immediately dismiss those doubts, or doubt our judgment, because these people are our friends, lovers, trusted friends, or family members. If I could remain unemotional, I could give PSAs about this. We spend so much energy and time teaching our kids to avoid strangers and telling them that strangers can't touch them in any way they don't want to be touched. The statistics show that most child molestation cases involved someone the child knows.

How do we teach our kids to be careful with their trust without inhibiting their ability to trust? I don't know the answer to that question but we really need to find one.

An even more difficult question is how do we know who to trust? How do you accurately screen the people who will have access to your children? We thought we were oh so careful, only family members were allowed near our children and only one person who wasn't family. We'd known him for a good part of our lives, we grew up with this person yet he turned out to be what I call a wolf in sheep's clothing. Did he spend all those years working on us and gaining our trust so he'd have access to our children? These are the sorts of questions that run through my mind.

There are no easy answers, there is no easy healing. Until we figure out a way to deal with child molesters in a more permanent manner, and find a means to discover those who are at risk to molest a child before they do, we're going to have to continue to be careful with our trust, hope for the best, and pick up the pieces when our trust is betrayed.

Tribute

Fair warning, this is one of those gushy-I'm-so-in-love entries. If you don't like that sort of thing, feel free to skip it.

Eighteen years ago this past Wednesday, Alan and I became a couple. He was seventeen and I was fifteen. We were young yet he loved me with such intensity that it still takes my breath away to this day. He proposed to me way back when and I accepted. Little did I know that he was truly serious. I just thought he was being sweet and romantic.

The years have been tumultuous, adventure-filled, and loving. He's always made me laugh and feel special. Even when I fought against it, he protected me. One of his favorite stories to tell is the one about the male friend of ours that smacked me on the butt in high school. In a jealous fit he took the person into the restroom and had a come to Jesus talk with him and in the end, convinced him never to touch me like that again. Some may see that as adolescent jealousy but I know it as protection. He's always kept me safe and looked out for my welfare.

My Master, he's a wonderful, loving man. I don't think I tell him that enough. I am proud to belong to him and I'm honored to serve him.

I love you Master, thank you for not giving up on me.

Service and slavery

I find it slightly ironic that I'm where I'm at today and that I'm having the desires for and taking pride in serving and being of use.

Once upon a time I was this independent woman who didn't need any man for any thing. I wouldn't trust a man nor would I do anything a man would ask me to do. I was a regular man hater for a long time.

Now, here I am today, 18 years into a relationship with a man, a very male man, and I'm as giddy as a school girl just because I get to shave his face.

If someone asked me six years ago if I would consider myself a service submissive or if I thought I'd become a slave I would have laughed and given a very emphatic "no". It's funny how things change and how people evolve, sometimes into the very thing that they vowed they'd never become.

As I was leading last night's sub forum, I felt very deeply inside myself a huge sense of pride in being of service to my Master. We were talking about service and improving service.

I need to be of use and most importantly I need to be of use to him. Lately I have been searching for new skills that I can learn that would be useful to him. I've been bouncing ideas off of him in hopes of finding things that he might want me to learn. I guess it'd be a lot simpler if I'd just ask him if there are any skills or services that he'd like me to learn.

I feel like I'm growing as a person and learning to live authentically through my enslavement to Master.

Fantasizing

You might be expecting some hot and steamy fantasies but that won't be the case here. What I was fantasizing about today was a few years in the future when our children will, hopefully, be successfully living on their own.

I was fantasizing about what it would be like to be able to do whatever we wanted to do when the mood struck.

Today Master and I were both in the mood but couldn't really act on it because dinner had to be cooked and Zboy had to be taken to work. I eagerly await the day when we can have leisurely late afternoon sex, or SM play, or whatever might strike our fancies.

I know it might seem callous to be looking forward to our children growing up and moving out. I love my children very much and I've devoted my life to raising them, but I'm ready for my life to be my own and to be fully and shamelessly wrapped up in my Master. That sort of came out wrong. Let's see if I can clear things up a bit.

I've been a parent since I was 16; I went from being a child in my mother's home to being a child in "the system" to being a mother and wife. There really wasn't any time for Master and myself to just be together, to develop our relationship fully before introducing children. Also, I never got to be my own woman before being someone else's woman. I'm okay with that though. I don't really feel the need for that now.

I guess I'm feeling selfish, I want to have time with Master that is uninterrupted, time that belongs to us alone, not time that we have to share with the children. I know for certain that sounds callous but that is how I feel sometimes. I feel like they're intruding on our lives. Master reminds me that I'm the one who wanted children and he's right; I need to get over my selfishness.

Still, I don't think it's wrong to fantasize about a time when we can be alone together and wrapped up in each other. So, I continue to look forward to that day.

I'm not kidding myself though, I know I'll miss the kids; I'll miss their noise, their needs, and their wants. I'll get nostalgic for their younger years, heck; I do that now even though I'm really pleased that they're becoming self-sufficient.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Today was a Good Day. Master was still home recuperating so he went to the St. Pat's parade with me today. We had to park quite a distance from the parade route but I was pleased that I was able to do the walking without too much discomfort.

I loved watching the parade. The very beginning of it was emotional for me because they began with bagpipers. Bagpipe music always causes strong emotions to well up within me and it's all I can do to keep them from overflowing. I never know what's going to happen, most often I cry and sometimes it's a combination of crying and giggling.

Master gets all emotional too, though not in the same way I do, at the sound of bagpipes.

It was exciting hearing the bands and seeing the colorful clowns. I spent part of the parade worrying that Master would make good on his threat to make me wave to all the parade participants as they passed us by. It's way out of my character to do that, strange but true.

It felt good to just enjoy a moment with Master as we oohed and ahhed over the choppers and old cars.

The weather was excellent, slightly chilly but sunny so it wasn't uncomfortable. Just perfect for a little bit of snuggling together. The trip back to the car was a little more than uncomfortable, I'd gotten very stiff and sore from standing for so long and walking didn't help. But happily after an hour of resting and getting some lunch I began to feel better.

This evening we had a family dinner at our new dining room table; it was nice to have the whole family sitting together.

I'm looking forward to more days like today.

Real, true, serious, or not

I just love how those terms are used by some in the lifestyle as a means of belittling another. Most often they're used by those who are trying to make a point that they are true and real and others must not be because they don't hold the same positions and beliefs.

Actually, these same terms are used by any number of people in and out of the lifestyle to belittle others. You're not "real" if you don't believe X, Y, and Z.

It drives me bats. Who died and made these people the "true" and "real" police?

I understand having very strong beliefs and ideas, I understand wanting to defend them but defending them when they're not under attack by attacking first? I really don't see how this can be an effective means of communication.

To me, belittling another is nothing more than an attempt to shut them, and further communication, down. It seems to happen most often when someone is not open to different ideas and isn't tolerant of differences. You must do it my way or you're not doing it right. As I'm sure you can imagine this line of reasoning doesn't go over too well with me.

I'm a gray area kind of gal though I've been known to dabble in black and white on occasion. Even so, my ideas and beliefs are strong enough that they're not threatened by the ideas and beliefs of another. If you don't believe I'm a slave because I don't match YOUR definition of a slave that's fine. It doesn't matter one whit to me because I'm not involved with you.

Now, if my Master were to say to me that I'm acting very un-slavelike I'd likely be a little hurt and wonder what I was doing to make him say that. The point is he is the only person in this world that can tell me what I am in relation to him.

Maybe I'm just rambling senselessly. I'm just tired of the words "real" and "true" being used to bash others who have different ideas and beliefs.

Sick, sick, sick

Master and I both have colds. His is worse than mine. I'm guessing that is because he's been working himself to exhaustion for the last few weeks.

Of course mine just started yesterday and I've been using Zicam so that could be why mine isn't as severe, of course I could wake up tomorrow morning feeling like microwaved sh*t. Who knows? I'm keeping up the Zicam just in case.

It seems like a never-ending parade of life junk is keeping us down. Never fear! It's only temporary right?

Mark pointed out to me yesterday that I haven't done anything creative in quite a while. I haven't written any new stories in ages. More importantly, I haven't finished braiding the handles for Master's new canes. I've got to work on those. They'll be beautiful when they're finished and I know he'll really enjoy using them and showing them off.

I have had some creative urges so I know my creativity isn't dead, it's just in hibernation.

Leaning

Last night when Master got home I wasn't pleasant and peaceful like I wanted to be, like I felt I should be for him. I have it in my head that I should be pleasant and peaceful when my Master arrives home from work. He's had a stressful day, the last thing he needs is my whining about my tough day.

I was doing alright, smiling and greeting him pleasantly. Then he asked me how my day was and I told him. I think the pitch of my voice rose while my tension increased as I recounted the day's events. Yesterday was an extremely tough day with disappointments, stress, and teenagers.

I wanted to scream and yell, I felt awful, worn down, and exhausted. I needed him.

He told me he felt that he shouldn't go out of town again. He felt that if he'd been here he would have dealt with everything. I told him that if he'd been in town he would have been at work and I still would have handled everything. What I meant was that I handled it just fine and that it was okay. I didn't yell at our complex manager when I called about some issues we have, I wasn't even rude. I might have been a little terse though; I was irritated and driving down the interstate at 65 miles an hour.

We talked again and I finally let go, I cried and the tension and bad feelings just drained out of me. Master held me and cuddled me, he told me it was alright.

I think he feels that if I get all stressed out and upset by unpleasant situations that I'm not handling it. I wonder if he remembers the way things were before the D/s and the M/s, when he worked overnight and slept during the day. I handled everything, I was the day person and everything generally happens during the day. I still got upset and stressed out over unpleasant situations, especially if they just piled up one after the other.

I wonder if he equates emotional upset over unpleasant situations with incompetence. I'm not incompetent. My slavery has not lowered my competence. What it has done is created an atmosphere where I'm more comfortable leaning on him for support, for solace, and for shelter after the storm. I don't see this as a negative.

If he hadn't come home I would have likely had myself a good cry in bed after the kids were asleep. I don't think this is a bad thing. I have emotions, I have a lot of them, and sometimes they build up to a point where I have to let off some steam. I don't think this makes me incompetent or incapable of handling tough situations.

Before I start sounding indignant or anything like that, I want to say I love that he wants to take care of me and solve the problems for me. I just want him to understand that I am capable of solving the problems when he's away. I'm not crippled or hindered by my slavery and dependence on him, nor by my emotions.

Labor of love

Master is out of town today for work so I decided to go through all the stuff we keep in the main closet and weed a lot of it out. He was going to do it when he got back to town but I thought this would be a nice "gift" to him.

It was fun going through the boxes; I found the baby keepsakes and showed Zboy and HRS their baby clothes. They got a big kick out of it. It's so hard to believe they were ever that small, I swear their baby clothes look like they were made for dolls.

Then I found Master's and my old cassette tapes. Wow. I used to listen to some really bad music. *giggling* ZBoy and HRS gleefully went through them and picked out some of the better tapes to keep and the rest are going on the trash heap.

It felt good to be doing something physical and useful. It turned what had been a crappy day, into a good day. Now Master won't have that on his "to do" list and he can focus on returning his mother's dining room table so we have space for our very first brand new dining room table and chairs.

Hindsight

Yesterday afternoon was rough. First I find out that I didn't do so well on a test for word processing and then after an appointment with the doctor the older two start calling me on my cell phone because they're fighting. I don't know why they bothered to call me; it's not as if either of them listened to what I said.

Then I get told by one of the managers of our complex that Zboy is smoking in the work out room. (he's not but they're convinced it's him) When I finally get home at five I'm met by Zboy in half temper and what was to be last night's dinner, still frozen.

It was more than I could take, my brain tripped out and I couldn't think logically. What do I do? That's all I could think. I needed Master.

I called him. In hindsight I feel a little guilty for calling Master at work and leaning on him when he's got a huge project that is extremely stressful right now.

I just didn't know what else to do and I was at a breaking point. I felt like, if I could just get dinner solved I'd be okay, and I was. Master has given me permission to make executive decisions regarding dinner so I wasn't permission seeking so much as I just needed a little of his strength.