Evolution

So much has changed and I simply haven’t had the time (or energy) to write in far too long; I’m not even sure where to start. There have been incredible changes in H. We were really going through a rough … Continue reading

Disenchanted

I had another rape dream last night. That’s not at all uncommon for me, however this one was different in a major way: I was male. As I mentioned in my post Gender Fluidity, I am male in about 50% of my dreams. In spite of this, I’ve always been female in rape dreams until now. I find that rape dreams really stick with me, this one is no exception. My emotions were identical, and even the plot was basically unaltered. The attacker (in this case a woman) was belligerent, I wasn’t able to get her to calm down, and she overpowered me. The fear I felt practically paralyzed me, and I knew I could not, would not, escape. There was no hope. Enter yet another twist: I was rescued.

I’ve never had a rape dream before where the attack was prevented. I’ve never been able to fight off my attacker, sometimes I didn’t even try. And nobody has ever attempted, let alone succeeded! in protecting me from an attack. After so many years of rape dreams, I’m aware of my usual reaction and mostly okay with it – that is, I usually feel upset and shaken for up to several days. Seems like a healthy enough response to me, so I let myself feel those things and let it pass without additional concern. This time, I’m not sure what I’m feeling or how I should feel. I think I’m relieved that I wasn’t actually raped, as that seems like an improvement. However, was that just because my unconscious mind thinks I wouldn’t have to fear if I was male? Or am I feeling safer, more confident and less distrustful of the world around me and that’s why the rape was prevented? If so, I can’t be too improved if I’m still dreaming of near-rape, right? I’m confused…that’s about the only feeling I can identify at the moment.

Now I’m feeling after effects from a dream in which I wasn’t raped…how do I handle that? If I can’t even sort out my emotions, how do I acknowledge them, feel them and let them pass? Should I be feeling so much from dreaming of not being raped? Hell if I know!

I love sex, but it can be so complex. I feel like my life revolves around sex. There’s the people I do have sex with, the people I want to have sex with, the people who want to have sex with me; there’s how I feel when I’m having a lot of sex, how I feel when I’m having less sex, and how I feel when I’m not having any sex. Then there’s the issue of flirting; for instance in my post Casual Friday I talked about a coworker I’m wildly attracted to, and I interpret his words and actions as flirting with me on a regular basis. However, I’m constantly holding back, concerned that if I let myself go and responded as is natural to me, I’d be slapped with sexual harassment in the workplace so quick it’d make my head spin. So, now I feel like sex is defining me and my relationships with others. No wonder I haven’t been happy lately.

Feeling like sex controls my life is hardly a new revelation, I’ve been dealing with this since I was a teenager. What about before that? Well, I felt it was perfectly acceptable to make decisions according to my own wishes, regardless of the impact on others. My entire life revolved around the manipulation of others – I was quite skillful. Sound a bit far-fetched for a child? Growing up the way I did, I knew nothing else. No wonder I have had to work so hard, always had to fight for happiness. First my life revolved around manipulation, now I’m controlled by sex. I wish I could see life in another way. Let’s be honest, manipulation has a whole lot to do with sex, so I’ve hardly divorced myself from that modus operandi.

H and I haven’t been having hardly any sex for the last month plus. I was really sick with a virus so he wouldn’t have sex with me, but he promised we’d have a sex marathon when I felt better as he was feeling horny also. Then when I was feeling better, H seemed to constantly not be in the mood or have an excuse to say no. We had sex a couple of times, but not anywhere near our usual rate. Then, with awesome timing as usual, I had terrible menstrual cramps. Once again, I didn’t feel well enough for sex. But, that only lasted a couple of days. So why on earth have I not been getting laid since then!? What happened to my promised sex marathon???

Compounding all of this, my submissive needs continue to grow stronger and more clear, and continue to be ignored completely. H and I often have to work hard on our communication with one another, so I suppose it’s not too far fetched to think that he truly didn’t understand what I was telling him when I admitted that I’m submissive. The problem is, I don’t know how to bring it up. In the past, every time I’ve ever admitted being dissatisfied with the amount of sex we’re having, it’s always turned into a huge damn deal. I think H can’t help but take it as an insult to his masculinity. So, if he is likely to get upset when all I want is more sex, it seems unlikely he would take my masochistic requests well. I admit, fear is certainly playing a part in my hesitation, but I know I can overcome that since I’ve talked to H before about my being submissive. I think the real problem is I don’t know how to make him understand. Until I figure that out, I’m not sure discussion could do anything other than push us apart, which is the last thing I want.

I’ve been considering talking to H about DD/lg dynamics, as he might be more receptive to the nurturing nature of a DaddyDom. Then again, neither of us have had great relationships with our fathers, so he might get caught up on the “Daddy” part and freak out before I can explain. Also, I really don’t want to go in to that if I’m not interested in being little – which is something I’m still exploring. I would love to be exploring what I want with H rather than on my own, but I don’t see how that’s possible. Right before I got sick I bought some fresh ginger and was hoping he would try figging with me, but alas we never had the chance. So much for that attempt!

I’m continuing to brain storm and work on myself, and I figure I’ve got a long way to go yet. I am deeply in love with H and am so grateful he is in my life and loves me too. I want everything else to be surface concerns compared to our love, but that doesn’t seem to be how life works. Communication, sex and everything else we deal with in our every day lives impacts us, our feelings and our relationship. I’m far from a master at navigating everything, but I hope I’m learning and improving. Right now I’m feeling frustrated, tired of working so hard at everything, lonely, horny, sad, and generally disenchanted with life. I hope I’m able to move past these feelings soon and be happier. I spend every day trying to focus on the good as much as possible, but I’m telling you between a lack of sex and a lack of submission in my life, I’m currently loosing the battle. Wish me luck…

The Dirtiest Word of All: Normal

In my post Accept Me As I Am (http://wp.me/p4jKhN-dS) I touched briefly on the concept of being normal. For most of my life, I’ve equated being normal with being healthy. I’m slowly beginning to untangle the Gordian Knot that is the connection between these two concepts in my mind. It’s rather a complex task, but one to which I’m committed. All I ever wanted was to be normal. wish that was an exaggeration; it’s not. In school I was always a mile ahead without even trying. As an adult I discovered I have a previously undiagnosed hearing disability which has been deteriorating over time. I’ve always found relating to other people tiring; I became depressed and cynical at a young age. The dysfunction which permeated my home life as I grew up was something I blamed on myself. I learned early on that it was imperative to my survival that I construct an iron facade . I did it perhaps too well…

 

My defense mechanism of choice was over-achieving. As I got older, that alone wasn’t enough for me to survive. I discovered other methods of feeling in control such as not eating, cutting and exercise. Then along came V, discussed in Playing With Fire (http://wp.me/p4jKhN-bN). By the time I met E, I was very skilled at concealment & compartmentalization. It also helped that batterers typically target areas that can be covered by clothing. I was able to hide everything behind the “perfect child” persona I constructed for others. I’m not proud of the high level of skill I obtained as a manipulator, but it sure came in handy as a salesman! Anyway, it was as I matured in this state of mind that I learned to interchange normal with healthy. I looked around and saw normal people, living their normal lives. I didn’t detect any hint of the effort on their part that I put into every interaction, no matter how insignificant, just to appear normal. It was hardly a big leap to acknowledge that I was the common factor, that I must somehow deserve the pain. I’m not normal, I can’t fix it, it must be my fault.

 

Clearly this line of thinking isn’t rational, but how many rational teenagers do you know? I was different in so many ways, some of which I wasn’t even yet aware of. I had to compensate every day, in so many ways. Being normal was everything I wanted. I didn’t want to be brighter than average, I didn’t want to be interesting. All I wished for was a simple, shallow, average life. Even now, having gained some distance and perspective, I still yearn for that seductive vision of normal I’d constructed at times. Life is hard, marriage is hard, being healthy and making sound decisions is hard. However, I am healthy. I don’t mean to imply that I’m perfect, but I respect myself now. I don’t carry around the self-directed hatred and blame any longer. I don’t believe I deserve traumatic experiences. I try to avoid punishing myself for perceived failures. Now I just need a Dom to do that for me 😉

 

In all seriousness though, I think unravelling the connection between normal and healthy is an important step in accepting my need to submit. I also think this will help me understand how to responsibly indulge my masochistic side by setting safe limits, to protect myself both physically and psychologically. I’m not there yet, but I’m journeying in the direction of the life I want to live. My past no longer holds the power to determine my future.

 

P.S.

If you’re wondering why the word normal was italicized throughout, this was done in an attempt to reflect the vicious tone the word carries in my mind. To me, normal truly is one of the worst words in my vocabulary. It has caused me so much pain over the years; the word itself is one I’ve made a conscious decision to avoid using whenever possible. 

My Fellow Lonely Subs

Since beginning this blog, I’ve been slowly connecting with other subs via their blogs. I’ve learned a lot, and am grateful to be connecting to an entire community of people who can relate to my experiences and desires. However, there’s a topic I haven’t yet addressed and I’d love to get other’s input. 

 

As my “About” page explains, I am not in a BDSM relationship despite my desire for one. Nor have I ever been in one, although I have been abused. While I do understand the difference, I must admit as a masochist and a submissive I had a major identity crisis once free of the abuse. How was I suppose to separate my desires from the horrors I had encountered? How was I suppose to accept myself for who I am without also blaming myself for having been battered? It’s taken years, and the process is ongoing. However, I’m slowly getting there. 

 

What I’ve been considering lately likely has more to do with my masochism than my submissiveness, and is rooted in my past. However, I am who I am because of where I’ve been. As a teenager I relied on self harming for a very long time. I doubt I will ever be free of the impulse, and sometimes I have to wonder what’s healthy and what isn’t. For example, in my post I Won’t Go Down Without A Fight (http://wp.me/p4jKhN-ck) I mentioned my outing to the Adult Store. In spite of the fact that I went specifically to purchase my first butt plug, my interest was caught by an entirely different product:

 

Image

 

This Icicles No. 38 flogger’s handle is made out of hand blown glass, with swirls providing texture. It can be heated or cooled for temperature play and is body safe. It’s hardly new news to me that I want to be flogged, but I was totally unprepared for the visceral reaction I had to seeing this particular product. Sadly I didn’t buy it as I seriously doubt H would be okay with me even owning such a thing, let alone wanting to use it. However, not owning a flogger certainly hasn’t curtailed my fantasies in the least. I can’t hardly cum anymore without imagining being flogged, bound, humiliated etc. etc. Arriving at my point: how do you subs handle it when you don’t have a dom? 

 

Don’t get me wrong, I’m an intelligent, strong woman. I have a successful career and know how to take care of myself, in addition to having a wonderful husband. I don’t need a keeper. What I haven’t figured out is how to handle my less vanilla needs, particularly since H isn’t interested in assisting with that. I suppose craving pain is normal for a masochist, right? So, it’s okay for me as a masochistic submissive to let someone else hurt me, but I can’t hurt myself…See where I’m confused? FML. Is it only motivation that makes hurting oneself bad? I did it out of desperation when I was younger; it was a way to exert control when I was powerless and a way to cope with emotional trauma. I made a promise to myself years ago to never again go to such atrocious lengths to survive. A promise I’ve never broken, but now the temptation has a different flavor. I don’t want to hurt myself because I hate myself, I want to hurt myself because nobody else will and I want the pain so badly, I crave it, I need it. I’m going crazy and I have no idea how to handle it. 

 

 

 

 

Power and Control: Understanding Abuse, and How BDSM is Different

Recently I was cleaning up my email accounts and went in to my oldest account, from when I was in high school. There are very few things still attached to that account, but one or two things of interest still show up once in a while. That’s why I log in occasionally. What I wasn’t expecting was to see was an email from E, only a couple days old. I’ve always known E had that email address, but he hasn’t tried to email me in years, so I’d kind of assumed I didn’t need to worry about it. E has tried to contact me occasionally in the past, but not in a long time. After I cut off contact and blocked him on FB, he text me once. I responded politely asking who it was, then asked if I knew him. Convinced him a new person had my cell #. He never called or texted again. It wasn’t easy though. I very likely had a panic attack in fact. I don’t know that I’ve ever had one otherwise, but thinking back on it I was terrified.

In many ways, I was a classic domestic violence victim. Even after E was out of my life and had moved out of the state, I was still always looking over my shoulder. I was afraid he would come after me, try to hunt me down. Hurt me more, again. Thoughts of E and my fear of him consumed my life. I tried to leave him three or four times at least, but he had systematically destroyed what little self esteem I had when we met and layered guilt on top of the ruins of my former confidence. E threatened to commit suicide if I left him. I was also afraid he would hurt people I love if I angered him. E knew where I lived, where my Mom lived, where my sister lived. He knew where I worked. I believed he was an alcoholic, and that he had anger management and depression issues. But that’s not true at all.

As a victim I wasn’t able to identify the patterns of behavior of my batterer. In fact, E was very controlled. E had high self-esteem. E was charming, like most batterers. He was a skilled manipulator. E never lost his temper with his boss, his coworkers, his friends or family. The only time E was ever anything other than a perfect gentleman was in private, alone with me. E only got drunk a hand full of times in the year that he abused me. While those nights were never easy, in truth they weren’t any worse than when E was sober either. As I was only 18 at the time, I had no real concept of what the normal consumption of alcohol was like. I assumed E’s drinking was a problem, something he couldn’t control. I thought he was an angry drunk. I now realize that E had fun when he drank; he was always smiling and laughing, until we were alone. He only drank when it was appropriate, such as when he had a couple days off from work. E didn’t drink to cope with stress, or drink until he was blackout drunk. E didn’t need to drink, as an alcoholic would. Part of why I was first attracted to E was his easygoing, friendly, upbeat personality. No pun intended. So, now I’ve ruled out depression (and low self esteem) as reasons for his behavior.

E’s control over himself seems obvious now, but at the time I was unable to comprehend the fact that someone in control of themselves would be capable of inflicting upon another person the things he did to me. It’s a coping mechanism, assuming E’s out of control, that there were reasons for him to abuse me. I fabricated excuses for him as discussed, convincing myself none of it was his fault. It was mine. Batterers are masters of avoiding accountability and victim blaming. I fell for all of it. I vividly remember confiding to my best friend after he’d left the state about the abuse. Her response was, “What did you do, burn the roast!?” Which, if you don’t recognize it, is a family guy quote. Point is, even if I had burned dinner, it still wouldn’t have been my fault. No victim, in any way, causes their batterer to abuse them. Violence is a choice. It is not acceptable for any reason. Everyone has the right to live a life free of violence.

For me, understanding how batterers think and work has been extremely important in helping me begin to let go of these experiences. The shame, guilt, disgust, pessimism and fear never left, even after E did. There is a seven stage cycle of abuse which shrinks over time as a batterer asserts more and more control over their victim. When I realized that E fit in to this cycle, it was another step in the right direction for me of realizing E was a batterer, which is not something I had control over at any time. The cycle is:

  1. Incidence of Abuse (this follows #7)
  2. Expression Guilt (the batterer does not actually feel guilty, but is attempting to ensure the victim remains available in the future and/or that the batterer will not be caught or face consequences for their actions.)
  3. Rationalization/Minimization (the batterer gives reasons why it isn’t their fault, and blames the victim. Ex. I wouldn’t have reacted that way if you hadn’t _____.)
  4. “Normal (or Honeymoon) Phase” (interactions with the batterer are superficially ‘better’, allowing the victim to fall in to a false sense of safety/security.)
  5. Fantasizing (the batterer imagines in their head how they would react in situations involving the victim. Ex. If ____ forgets to _____ again, I’m going to _____.)
  6. Planning (the batterer begins to think about how to turn their fantasies into reality. This may include deciding what the victim has done wrong and how the abuser will make the victim pay for these wrongs.)
  7. Set Up (the batterer puts their plan in to action, with built in justification for the next incidence of abuse.)

As the batterer becomes more confident in their control over their victim, stages of this cycle begin to disappear. Often, #2 and 4 go right out the window. The batterer becomes so confident in their control of the situation and the victim they feel no need to express false guilt or allow for a “normal” phase to ensure the victim’s compliance.

At this point, I’ve gained the greatest tool in recovering from my past abuse that I’ve ever encountered. No amount of individual or group therapy, nor time or changes in lifestyle had any impact on my feelings of responsibility for being a victimized. But, learning how batterers think, work, plan, their personality traits, and understanding for myself how clearly E fit in to that category, that finally made the difference for me. Prior to learning all of this, I truly believed I was different from every other victim out there. Of course it wasn’t their fault they were abused, but I was different. The truth is, we are all individuals, in unique situations. That doesn’t mean that the abuse was my fault, or within my ability to stop. This leads me in to my next topic: Why do victims stay? Why don’t they leave?

There are more answers to those questions than I could ever possibly cover, but there are several important things I can share on this topic. First of all, it takes a victim on average 7-9 attempts to leave their abuser before they are successful. I personally attempted to leave E at least 3 or 4 times, possibly more. I don’t recall exactly. One of the many reasons I always felt guilty was because I went back. Now I realize I did exactly what most domestic violence victims do, I tried and failed, and tried again. Leaving an abuser is a process, not an event. As I touched on earlier, there were many compelling reasons for me to fear E, as there are for any victim to fear their abuser. As in my case, batterers isolate their victims. The victim is cut off from contact with friends, family, coworkers and everyone else who could possibly provide a support system as much as possible. The abuser learns of the existence of all the people the victim cares about in order to implement the isolation, and therefore potentially poses a legitimate threat to all of these people. Children are also commonly used against the victim as a means of control. Although I didn’t have children, I was terrified not only for myself, but also on behalf of those I loved if I angered E.

In addition to physical abuse, victims are often subject to other types of abuse as well. This may include emotional, psychological, sexual, financial and other types of abuse. Batterers systematically destroy the self esteem of their victim, convincing them they are worthless and untrustworthy. A victim may not be able to depend on themselves enough to make even basic decisions as a result of ongoing abuse, thus erecting a powerful barrier to escaping abuse. Sexual abuse is also common. Sexuality is used as a weapon agains the victim, further eroding their self esteem and convincing them no one else would want them. Batterers are often in control of all financial resources, and may not allow the victim to work. This causes the victim to have no means of supporting themselves and their children if they leave their abuser. These are just a small number of the many reasons victims stay.

My advice to anyone who is confided in by a victim of domestic violence is, don’t ask them why they stay. This would most likely be interpreted as blaming the victim, which speaking from experience is the last thing they need. Instead, listen to them. Tell them you care about them and support them. Assure them you will help if they want it, or just give a friendly ear if that’s all they’re ready for. Ultimately, the victim is the person who can most accurately judge when it’s the best time to leave. Don’t every tell a victim they need to leave, get a restraining order, or anything else. A victim doesn’t need told what to do or questioned on their decisions, their abuser is already doing exactly that. If possible, help victims connect with local resources, professionals who are better equipped to help them, but only if that’s what they want. Otherwise, just support them unconditionally.

I hate going to my annual exam. I’m sure a lot of women dislike that particular time of year, but I absolutely hate it. Every year I seriously consider not going, risking my health rather than facing that particular appointment. I have a very specific reason for this, I find answering the questions asked at an annual exam nearly impossible. They always ask if I’ve ever been raped (or ‘the victim of a sexual assault’). How do I answer that? I was terrified E was going to kill me. He forced me to have sex on a regular basis. But I never said “no”; I never said “stop”; I never fought him. I thought if I didn’t submit completely he would kill me. I was afraid for my life, so I let E use me. But that’s been the flaw in my thinking all along; I didn’t “let” him – I survived. Cliché, yes. However, it’s also the truth. As a victim of domestic violence, my consent was not ever a consideration for E. This wasn’t because I’m submissive by nature, it’s because E made the choice to be abusive. I’ve only recently made that distinction, but it makes all the difference.

In my relationship (I’m using that word very loosely here) with E, I had no power. There was no trust involved. I didn’t have the ability to consent, as E never allowed me any option other than to surrender to his will. Even then, I wasn’t safe. Surrender was simply the safest option available to me at the time. BDSM is, when practiced correctly, the polar opposite. In any group, one can find those who are abusive; however such people are the exception, not the rule. There are a couple of very important concepts in BDSM: SSC and RACK. SSC stands for Safe, Sane, Consensual; RACK stands for Risk Aware Consensual Kink. Regardless of which participants prefer, they both include the key word (at least in my case): consent. There is a wealth of reading material available on SSC and RACK, so I won’t delve into them deeply at this point, but hopefully after reading the preceding information about abuse the difference in practicing BDSM is apparent.

 

For me, BDSM is a power exchange at its core. All participants: top, bottom, dom, domme, submissive, slave or otherwise must recognize all other parties’ power to consent and withdraw that consent at any time. Thus, even when deep in a scene and appearing to be completely without control, the bottom still holds the power to stop the scene. No matter how much power the top has, it will still always be secondary to the power the bottom holds simply by consenting. How is this possible? Trust. The top has to trust that the bottom will safe word if the scene becomes too much, that the bottom won’t allow themselves to be truly harmed. In return, the bottom has to trust that the top will respect their hard limits, their safe word, and any other factors which have been negotiated. BDSM is the practice of fulfilling complementary desires on a consensual basis.

 

Sadists enjoy inflicting pain, and masochists such as myself enjoy receiving that pain. That does not in any way override the issue of consent. Everyone has their limits, and the right to have them respected. Everyone has the right to not live in fear; this is just as true in BDSM as in the vanilla world. The trust between practitioners of BDSM runs very deep, it is a vital element. It is easy to understand how, on the surface, BDSM looks no different from abuse. However, with just a little analysis, the difference becomes clear. I personally have only limited experience in BDSM, but quite a lot of experience with abuse. I hope what I’ve learned can help others understand not only the differences between abuse and BDSM, but also how to recognize abuse and gain a better understanding of batterers and the choices they make. While the bottom in a BDSM scene has chosen to accept that role, no one ever chooses to become a victim.

 

P.S.

I will likely continue my discussion of this topic, as there is so much more to say. However, I’ve been working on crafting this post for weeks now and don’t wish to wait any longer to share what I have so far. Thank you for reading!

Busy Life!

There’s so much going on in my life, I’m not sure where to start! I’ve been working out at a dance studio that offers classes a couple times a week for a little over a month, and as much fun as it is I found that I really wanted to work out more often. So, in between my Tuesday and Thursday classes at the dance studio, I went to check out a local gym Wednesday evening. It was awesome! I’ve decided to join next month. It’s a two year commitment, but that’s probably good motivation for me to keep going. Also, the gym is only 2 miles from my house, where as the dance studio was close to 10 miles away. Starting in March, there are dance classes five nights a week at the gym plus a water exercise class one day a week that I’m excited to try. In addition to all these classes, there’s all the regular lifting equipment plus the pool and jacuzzi. I’m totally jazzed to start spending a good deal of time there each week 🙂

Aside from my personal fitness goals, I’ve also decided to start volunteering in my community. I actually made this decision close to a year ago, but because of school was not able to start sooner. I had an interview earlier this week for my local police department’s team of volunteers of advocates for victims of domestic violence. I’ve been interested in this program in particular for quite a while, and am really looking forward to the opportunity to help people in bad situations. The training starts tomorrow (40 hours in two weeks, on top of my 40 hour each week job!), and is all day. I’m excited but nervous; am I getting in over my head? H is pretty upset about my volunteering in this capacity. He says he doesn’t think it’s safe and doesn’t like me being away from home so much. Really the time commitment is minimal after the training is over, volunteers only have to sign up for one shift a month as a minimum and one monthly meeting. I understand that the training will eat up a lot of our free time, but that’s only a couple weeks out of our lives. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.

I suspect that H has other reasons for objecting, and is simply refusing to acknowledge them. I was a bit taken aback when they asked in the interview if I considered myself a “survivor of domestic violence”. I suppose I should’ve been prepared for this question, but the (rather extensive) application didn’t ask, so I assumed they weren’t going to pry. Wrong. I took a moment to collect myself and answered basically truthfully. I never would have used that phrase to describe myself, but I suppose it is apt. They asked if I would be willing to share a bit about my experience, which was terrifying. I want to help other people, deal with their problems, not mine! Thankfully these women, who direct this volunteer program full time, understand abuse isn’t a fun topic. They quickly thanked me for sharing and moved on to the next topic. As much as I didn’t want to admit anything to anyone about my history of abuse, I’m somewhat proud that I was able to. I admitted something I’m ashamed of to total strangers out of a desire to help others. A girl could do worse.

I have long been a student of psychology, sociology, anthropology, communication, and other veins of interest. I’ve always been particularly interested in abnormal psychology, and how/why/what is different about people such as serial killers, cutters, those with eating disorders, people who attempt suicide, sadists, masochists, etc. I am well aware that I do not fit into the “normal” category, but I’m always curious to understand more about why. And what separates me from other ‘abnormal’ people? I don’t have the answers, but I’ll continue to pursue these and other questions about humanity. Anyway, where I was headed with this is that I expect to find the domestic violence training fascinating from this perspective. I’m sure I will learn a lot about abusive relationships and control tactics that I’m not currently aware of. However, I also know this will not be a cold, dispassionate, clinical learning experience. This will be highly personal and likely emotional. I’m afraid I won’t be strong enough to handle exposure to so much input that will remind me of one of the worst periods in my life. I’m afraid I’m going to let myself down.

As if my new impending gym membership and volunteerism weren’t going to keep me busy enough, H and I also started attending a new church recently. Our old church was about an hour drive, and this one is in town. Big improvement! Now that we have a church that’s close enough to attend every week, I’m finally going to do something I’ve always wanted: help with child care. I love kids. I always pictured myself having a family. Well, plans change (aka H doesn’t want kids), so now it’s just the two of us. Don’t get me wrong, I knew this long before we got married. But, I still would like to spend time with kids. Where better than volunteering at church? A couple weeks ago I was scheduled to help for the first time, and of course we were snowed in. That doesn’t happen often in my area, so the church was actually closed as well. Well, this weekend, no snow! On Sunday, I am going to go to church early to help with child care for one service and attend the other service. I’m so excited to meet the kids! I’ll be helping in a class of three year olds. I have a niece who just turned four last week, so I’m looking forward to spending time with kids around that age 🙂

With all this excitement, I’ve not spent much time with H this past week. He also had a cold, which made him less than enthusiastic about my busy schedule. We haven’t had sex all week. Even with how hard I’ve worked out, I’m this close to losing my fucking mind. Since our only plans tonight were hanging out at home, I talked him in to taking a bath with me. While we were relaxing, we chatted and I tried to talk to him about why he’s so unhappy with my plans to volunteer. H snapped at me and said talking about it would only upset him more, not help. So I dropped it. Next, I tried to talk with him about masochism. Soon as I brought up the topic, H said that those people are just confused. Wow. Excuse me while I go kill myself, that’d be great, thanks. My friend was trying to convince me the other day that H could be my dom. I think not.

There’s a comedy show on T.V. right now, and the comedian was talking about birthdays. What do men want for their birthday? Only one thing…the one thing women never want for their birthday. As if I wasn’t already aware, I’m the man in my marriage and H is the woman. It’s not exactly that this bothers me, but every now and then I’d like to be the one who can be passive. I’d like to be the one who needs supported rather than always giving support. I’d like to ask for sex and get fucked through the mattress, rather than worrying I’m going to piss H off by asking because he probably doesn’t want it. To be fair, I have something of a sex problem. It’s not new. I’m not a sex addict, but my sex drive is extremely high. Not normal range high, either. I always knew this would be an issue if I ever got married, and it was one of many reasons why I never even considered marriage a possibility before H convinced me otherwise.

I love our sex life, I really do. H is great in bed, and I love swinging. In fact H found a new couple for us to play with earlier this week. I’m really excited to meet them (they are even in our same town!). We haven’t played with another couple in quite a while, and I really miss it. Other than my recent close call, its been a long time since we played with anyone. The few guys we’d been playing with regularly were too high maintenance for me. To be fair, “high maintenance” is expecting a text back within the week they texted me. I’m terrible at keeping in touch with people, and I’m not trying to be friends with these random strangers we fuck. I just want them to show up when I’m horny and leave when they can’t get it up any more. Text me if you wanna pick a day/time to show up, otherwise leave me alone! Is that too much to ask? Probably. Maybe that’s why I’m not getting laid more…

I want to be happy with our sex life; I try to keep quiet and not complain when H won’t have sex with me. But he has no idea how difficult it is. I can’t sleep, sometimes I can’t eat, I can’t concentrate (thank god my day job is so simple), and it’s borderline painful at some point because I never get a break from being aroused. My nipples are hard, I’m soaking wet, having to change my panties several times a day, and every time I masturbate I get hornier rather than less horny. It’s a vicious cycle, and the only thing that’s ever helped is getting fucked thoroughly. H certainly delivers when he wants to, but he rarely wants to. I don’t know what to do. My sex drive is a burden to him, and when we talk about it he doesn’t even bother to deny it. It’s not like I would choose to have such a constant need for sex, but it’s not a choice. I can’t control it. What does he expect? It’s not new. He’s known from the beginning about my needs. So why is it my fault that he doesn’t want to meet them anymore? I’m not the one who changed in this situation.

I love H. I would never leave him. But I really am struggling. I don’t feel like he will even listen to me, let alone actually discuss with me, things that I’m struggling with. He doesn’t understand my need to submit, doesn’t even have any context for how badly I need it. He isn’t willing to listen or talk about masochism, he doesn’t know how to be rough with me, and he is getting plenty of sex to be happy. So I’m the problem. If I could choose, I would be some averagely intelligent, shallow girl with no big dreams and no big secrets or complicated past. But that girl isn’t me, and I can’t become her. What do I do? Keep busy…that’s what I did when I was younger (cuz that kept me out of trouble so well), and until I come up with a more successful plan, that’s what I guess I’ll revert to.