Submission

A married girl.This is true. A step mother. A homemaker? 

We got married May 19th. Happy Day. Very vanilla, but not. We combined a handfasting with a normal ceremony. Exchanging vows, declaring love. My parents made the drive up and walked me down the aisle.

A short time later, we moved. Pack everything up. Load up everything again again again. Unpack everything.   Well, start to unpack everything. Boxes boxes everywhere...

Some where, some how in all of this, that submissive in me is still packed in a box somewhere. The little side of me too. Not lost, not forgotten, but packed away, waiting for the attention we both want to give it.

A conversation is needed, about what I actually want, need out of it. But my stupid mood swings make it vary so much from day to day. One day I crave that submission, the next it feels like repression. I feel sorry for my darling husband, trying to keep up. And somehow he manages to try.

The truth is, I have no idea what I want, or how to voice it. I love the way submission at the purest level makes me feel. When it is treated as a gift, something to be cherished, instead of being taken advantage of, demanded or ripped from my soul. He does that. cherishes it. Looks at me as if I am a gem, offering myself up to him. 

I think what I am needing now is ritual. Something designed, something planned, so that we both realize its meaning and value.

We're all searching for something. That special someone. The meaning of life. Where we belong. Our path. Our purpose. Unfortunately, there's no map for those things. No website that can tell you exactly how to reach it. The best you get is a good guess.

Reflections at 2 am

How many times have I thought about abandoning this blog? How many times have I been set to erase or hide the words I have written here? I have chosen to leave them here for those new submissives entering the lifestyle, stumbling upon it whilst on their own journey. I have also chosen to leave it as it is much the history of my life as a submissive for the past three years. To simply delete the things I have written here would be, for me, like attempting to delete the past three years of my life, unfair to say the least. This acts as a record for my new husband to read, to see the me I used to be, the me I am growing out of, growing away from, whether by choice or not. He can come back (has come back as time allows) and read and gain understanding of the person that I was, on the events in life that have lead me to be this person that I am today.

Oh yes, Husband. Devin and I are married, as of the 19th of May. I will reflect upon this later.

Many things await me in the future. Many questions unanswered, paths unseen. But all the dreams I have had up till now have come true. I wanted to be a wife and mother. Now I have a wonderful adoring respectful husband, and two beautiful step children who are not without their own complications.

As for the D/s nature of our marriage.... It struggles to exist, like the new born sprout in the middle of a May thunderstorm. It has potential for great growth, it is survives and gets everything it needs... What WE need... is a new apartment. Where we are moving to the 20th of May. Huzzah!

Kitten

The Flood of information

I've released any and all blog entries here, even those that are incoherent ramblings or parts of thoughts. From now on, this will be the case. Uncensored in my thoughts, my words, even if they may not make sense to others...

Find your peace, your love, as I have found mine...

Kitten

Consumed.

Four times now, I have started to write here, but erased what I had to say. Nothing feels right. This rage of mine is boiling just under the surface, making my hands shake. Its burning away anything else I might feel for more than a few moments. Any joy, happiness, is a distant background in comparison to the fire that seems to be all consuming. EVERYTHING gets on my nerves. 

Left to my own devices, I would cut. I would drag a blade against my skin over and over and over until I bled it out. That option has once again been removed from me, as I fear that I will not be able to stop. Rather, I know that I would not be able to stop once I started, as I have already once this week been overwhelmed by the desire to just sleep... and sleep and sleep until my body withers. Knowing that this would hurt those I care about, I still had enough sense remaining to call out to help to my fiancee. Barely. 

My stomach is in knots. It has been all day. Everything seems to be fighting against me... Or perhaps that is simply my perception of things. All I know is that I feel near that breaking point, more than where I was yesterday, when I destroyed a room and cut just a little too deep. I fear my reactions, fear what I might destroy.

Solutions....

I came here to write to try to let it out, and it is not helping...

Do I seek S&M? Do I ask him to hurt me to cope, as a temporary solution? To be lost in the pain done to my physical body until the emotional pain melts away? How can this be done given our current living situation? What other options do I have? 

This is a hopeless place. Can I find my love again?