Vapors

So I'm on FB and someone posted one of those things. You know the things I'm speaking of.... the cartoon of a fifties wife saying something really witty, like, "Toss your hopes and individuality in here." While pointing to the washing machine. There were others cracking on how it's thanks to Valium that she can be such a great wife. On and On and isn't it hilarious.

I hate those things. I hate the idea that is constantly sold to us, as women, that we can not be happy as a wife, as a mother. I hate the idea that was propagated to me, and that I bought into, that I had to be something more in order to be fulfilled.

I was in constant conflict because all I wanted to be was a wife and a mother, and that meant that I didn't want to be enough. I hated the desire within to be a submissive wife because that's an idea that is openly scoffed at and ridiculed.

You have to be strong and independent and in charge. You have to keep yourself emotionally protected, even from, especially from, your husband. Being submissive in any environment is not acceptable, but especially not in marriage. It means you are a doormat. It means you aren't interesting. It means you aren't happy, but rather plodding along in misery. And most important of all, is that men don't want a submissive wife because they are all of those things. Who wants to be married to a doormat? What's interesting and stimulating about that? Men want a challenge! Men respect you for screaming, er I mean, telling them how wrong they are all of the time, and showing them how right you are all of the time. Really, that's how it works.

Chasing vapors... that's what the Man calls it. Those moments when I think, when I fall back on the idea, that I might be... omg... gasp... boring. I mean I just do what He tells me to do. I just ask questions when He's making a decision and then I let it go when He decides. I don't argue with Him. I don't get mad at Him, I just...... trust Him. I must be boring. I must be a doormat. I must be a shell of a woman. Really, everyone says so! It must be true!

Only He doesn't think I'm boring. He thinks I'm wonderful. He thinks the trust and faith I put in Him make Him a better Man. Being submissive and obedient to Him, makes me the most wonderful woman in the world, in His eyes. The most interesting. The one He wants by His side in all things.

I used to struggle with giving in, in part, because I was scared of not being that head strong, wild, impulsive, independent woman. Actually, I was keen on getting rid of her, but I was scared He would think I was boring. Even though it was all I really wanted.... what if it meant that I wasn't enough? Only in His eyes, me being just me.... submissive, dependant, obedient, doesn't make me less, it is in fact, the very thing that makes me more.

Post inspired by Sara's comment :)

Sara's comment inspired a thought for me. Normally at this time of the night I'd be making dinner, hanging out with the Man, talking about how our day went and so on. Today though is different. He had to take then kids somewhere and they wound up in an accident... just a fender bender... not a big deal.. thankfully! In the states this would be one of those times that you exchange info and carry on with your day. In Italy, a fender bender results in about 6 hours of paperwork. The police come. The traffic investigators come. The translators come. Then after all of that is hashed out, you go to the station and type up your accident report. Yep, that's right, YOU, type it up. All for a fender bender.. sigh. So, here I am all alone and feeling kind of odd about it, I admit. I'm a creature of habit, and all this quiet is, well, just weird! It's sort of nice, but I am certainly experiencing a, "what do I do with myself" moment!

Anyhow, I thought I would explain how it works in His house. It's pretty simple. Most of the time I know the minute something occurs that is going to get my butt burning. Honestly, I've gotten His expectations down enough that it doesn't happen that much anymore. When it does, it's one of those, "OMG! What I was thinking? How could I have spaced on that?" moments. On rare occasion, I've gotten snappy, realized it, and thought wow, did I really just do that?? All He has to do is point and I know... what's a girl to do? Snappy is snappy, ya know? There isn't a whole lot to do, but take the position. 

More often that not, at this stage, He will say something like, "So, it seems to me that you were supposed to..." And I gulp, but then explain. Explain, not justify. There is a huge difference. Explaining is telling Him that I was supposed to do x, but I couldn't for such and such a reason. Like:

"Weren't you supposed to order gas today? "

"Yes, but the phone lines were down for six hours." 

That is not the filibuster I was once famous for trying to create :) I realize though that if He weren't the way He is, I wouldn't be so obedient. If my gabbing, justifying, manipulating tactics had ever paid off, then guess what? I'd still be doing them! Why wouldn't I? Getting spanked hurts! If I thought I could weasel out of them, then why on earth wouldn't I try? I'd like to say that I'm really fabulous and would never ever do such a thing, but that's a flat out lie, I would.  

He never let it fly. He has always given me a moment to present a reason for failing in getting something done, changing a behavior and so on (Okay, never a reason for being snappy/disrespectful) but it has to be a true reason. An exception. Car accident, internet down, phone lines out, sort of thing, and anything short of that means I'm toast. When I finally realized that, it was a whole lot easier just to get on with it, and life got better.  Submitting and obeying became easier. There wasn't any point in the filibuster, it wasn't going to work. Obey. Bend over. Get it the heck over with it AND learn the lesson. So now, yeah, he says go, and I go. 

I am sooooo thankful that He is this way. I am grateful I can't filibuster, cajole, flirt, or tease my way out. I needed that. I yearned for it. I almost gave up thinking I'd ever find a Man that would be strong enough to compel my true submission, my peaceful obedience. I will never ever stop thanking God and contemplating my good fortune.

Oh~ I'm weird... I do better with a cane than anything else... even His hand, if anyone can figure that one out, please feel free to enlighten me!

Ah, yay they are on the way home, so I have to fly to make dinner! 

Strip, bend, grab, wait.

Now since I know the consequences for not doing something the way He's decided He wants it, you would think I'd be totally on top of it, right? Especially since there aren't that many truly small things He cares about, you would think that when He mentioned one, my ears would perk, right? That it would become this big yellow post it on my brain, right? Me too! Only somehow, it doesn't always quite work out that way. Mental forehead slap!

The Man and I are so intertwined that I frequently know what He's thinking. I just sense it. He's started making the joke that since I'm so in tune with Him, I should get punished for not doing something He thought of, but forgot to mention. I don't think that's a very funny joke, personally.

So last night after dinner, I was doing the dishes and I had this horrible, niggling sensation, that I was going to be getting in trouble, but I couldn't figure out why! Maybe it was because He'd grilled me on a few things? But I'd passed on all of them! I'd had a moment or two of thinking, oh my gosh! But then realized, wait, yes, I did get that done! Yay me! So why on earth would I be in trouble??? I decided I couldn't be. I'd done everything. I was a good girl! No need to sweat it!

I plod up to third floor (Yes, our bedroom is on the third floor, why I do not have an ass of steel, I have yet to figure out!) step out to the balcony, where he is sitting, and say, "Wow, what a beautiful sky!"

He looks at me and says, "Yes it is. Now, go inside, take off your dress, bend over, and grab your ankles."

omg! crap! crap! craaaap! I want to pout, and whine and ask what I did, but I don't. I go, I strip, I bend, I grab, and I wait. I wait while He closes the door. I wait while He picks a cane. I wait while I wonder what I did. I wait while the fear builds and builds inside of me. I wait for all of thirty seconds until He's standing next to me, thirty seconds that felt like countless minutes. Have I mentioned obedience is hard?

"Do you know what you did?"

"No." It's a breathless squeak.

He tells me. It's a small annoyance, but it's one He's repeated over and over to me, yet somehow I repeatedly forget to make a sticky note on my brain about it. He reminds me that He isn't all that into repeating Himself.

The Man begins swooshing, I begin my screaming, sobbing, breathless apologies. Once He feels His point has been adequately delivered He pulls me up, wraps His arms around me, and cuddles me into His chest. He kisses my head, strokes my back, and whispers in my ear until all of my tears are shed. I tell Him how sorry I am I caused Him an ounce of irritation. I hate when I do, not because of the consequences, but because He's so damn great that I just can't stand to be the source of the smallest angst. He smiles and says, "Don't you know it's impossible for me to be irritated with you?"

Really?

Later in the night, I said to Him, "You really don't get irritated with me?"

"No. Well, yes I do, but only for a minute, as soon as I see you bending over any irritation I felt is gone."

"How come?"

"Because you look so good like that."

Maybe the stairs are making a difference on my ass after all?! Maybe I don't need that stupid elliptical?! Probably this qualifies as false hope.

"And because as soon as I see you being so accepting of being punished, being so obedient, and just bending over when I tell you to, it all dissipates."

I used to finagle, pout, reason, and basically try to filibuster. Geeze, God, could I drag it out... to a point. Eventually He'd say enough, but until that point, I really tried! Once I figured out it was pointless and simply accepted my medicine, life became sooo much easier. And this morning? You better believe His message was etched into my brain! The source of irritation was taken care of before His feet hit the kitchen floor.

Attitude Counts

Mr. Man has some of the craziest ideas, I swear! Personally I've always been of the mind that as long as I obeyed, does it matter if I did it happily? I mean as long as I complied... we are all good, right? Only Heeee always had this idea that not only should I obey Him, but I should always do it happily. Good grief!

I look at the struggles some of the new people go through. I remember those struggles! I think almost all of us come into this arena, which I'm going to call a traditional relationship, with very clear ideas! We read stories that are erotic, or loving, and in the best scenario, a mix of both! We imagine how it would be to have a big, strong, husband really taking care of us; Making decisions, leading us, holding us accountable, and just being... men. Real men. John Wayne kinda men. Ssswooon!

Only then you are actually dealing with one and visions of Maureen O'Hara stomping off somewhere makes so much sense to you! It can be hard, and frustrating, and no one mentioned how much a spanking really frickin hurts! No one told you that sometimes you will hate his decision and guess what? It isn't that he didn't hear you and it needs repeating... it's that his decision isn't the one you wanted. Annnd you have to accept it with grace! ARGH!

Submission is hard. Obedience is doing as they say, even when all you want to do is stomp your foot and scream! There was a time when The Man would look at me and say, "Go ahead, stomp your foot, I know you want to." And I would! And man, I'd feel better for it, then I'd wander off and do His bidding. I was never allowed to yell or get smart out of anger, but I could stomp :) I put every little ounce of angst into that stomp, let me assure you. 

 At least for a minute I could stomp, then I was expected to comply in a peaceful manner. I could fume inside. I could hate it with every breath, I could totally NOT want to do it, as long as I did it, and did it well, and did it with a smile on my face. Attitude counted. I could have my momentary fit, but then I'd better get over it and be focused on accepting/doing whatever it was He commanded. At some point He'd pull me in close and whisper in my ear a reminder about why I'm His, why I obey, why I really, ultimately want to please Him. Those whispers still get me all warm and fuzzy and happily trotting to His will.... usually! 

Admittedly there are few times anymore that I desire a foot stomp. I can't even tell you when the last time I desired one was. There are still times when I don't like something, but I've learned there's a big difference between resisting due to fear, and resisting due to dislike. Do you fear his decision? Do you fear his leadership? Or is it that you just don't like it.

I realized that fear, for me, comes from a lack of faith. Faith equals trust. Fear equals faith. They go hand in hand, and if I'm fearing his decision it's because I'm experiencing a lack of faith in His choice. These moments are few and far between now, and when they happen I spend some serious time questioning the source of my lack of faith. Honestly, at this point in our relationship I usually discover the lack of faith isn't even in him anymore, it's in myself. It took a long time, a lot of heart to hearts, patience, pressure, action, and love, to get to a place where He held my absolute faith. Was I obedient? Yes, but was my heart always in that obedience? No, ergo foot stomping. 

The fear based rebuffing is completely different from just not liking something.. I don't liiiiike having to exercise. I'd be quite content to whine about needing to lose weight while eating some awesome, homemade enchiladas, and drinking beer. The Crazy Man thinks I should not only exercise, but do it happily, without even whining about it! Just like I accept any decision/thing He chooses without stomping my foot, so too, should exercise come from a place of joy in submission. I have excelled in one area because it was about having faith/trust and losing my fear. The other one though, is somehow harder. I think because it's the smaller moments of, meh I just don't wanna, I don't like it, whine, whine, pout, that are seemingly inconsequential. I mean they aren't as important as taking a leap of faith, right? So how much does it matter? Sigh... a lot. 

Mr. Man told me to think on this today. Think on being a good girl and all the different ways that being obedient means not just being, but joyfully being, obedient. Happily accepting what His desire is, (Here's the clincher) regardless of what that desire is. In other words, not just when we are talking about the big, scary, leap of faith, all your trust vested stuff, but the small~ just don't like it and it makes me pout, stuff too. So I've thought and realized that obedience and submission means focusing on Him even in the small things. I've rediscovered what I already knew~ it requires a tremendous amount of selflessness, but then so does being a great leader. The selflessness on both sides, in even the small ways, is what keeps this circle going round. 

Why should I be happy to exercise? Because sometimes being submissive and obedient is about working through your lack of faith. Other times though, it's about learning how to disregard your knee jerk dislike/crankiness over the matter and truly finding the joy in just doing it because it makes Him happy. When I focus on the joy of submitting to Him, I find the joy in the action itself. The action becomes representative of my submission, my love for Him. 

So that's what I'm working on.. letting go of the dislike factor, accepting it with grace, and then some day, maybe even deciding I like Him enough, to like the action He is insisting upon. Okay, I already like Him enough ;) but I still need some work on getting to the liking it piece. Mantra: Elliptical represents submission and love, embrace it with joy. The lesson has been reiterated, but the mantra is going to need some work.

Maintenance?!

It all started with one of my very funny little smart ass remarks. I think they are funny. Usually He thinks they are funny. Of course that's because I've learned the difference between what He will find funny, and what He, well, uh, won't. You can gently tug the tigers tail and get a fun little growl, or yank it and get mauled.

I was popping into bed and giggling over a comment I thought of, but kept to myself.

"What are you laughing about?"

"Sometimes I'm amazed at how well I keep the tongue in check now."

Pulling me in close to His chest with a twinkle in His eye... "I don't spank you enough."

Clearly the man is crazy! He wakes me up with happy swats. He sends me to bed with happy swats. He comes home from work and gives me happy swats. He makes love to me with harder swats. In between all that, if I've done something wrong, He gives me the not so fun, happy, omg I'm gonna die, swats! Not enough?!

Giggling~ "Not enough? How in the world do you figure that?"

Pulling me deeper into His chest~ "If I spanked you enough, you wouldn't even have the thoughts that need keeping in check."

Full chortle now~ "So you're going to start spanking me for thoughts?!"

"I'm thinking maybe I should do maintenance with you."

Maintenance? Maintenance? I thought that's what all that swatting through out the day was! This is starting to sound a little worrisome. We don't already do maintenance?!

"Maintenance?"

"Yep. I think every Friday night, six good strokes of the cane, bent over grabbing your ankles."

Okay, this isn't funny anymore. Dead, heart stopping silence.

"I think it would be a good way to make sure we're even for all of the things you think and do that you don't confess to."

Blink, blink.. and then I can't help it, burst of laughter..."Maintenance equals being even?!"

"I think so. I like that, but here's the problem; you have a hard enough time confessing. (It's true, unless it's really bad, I don't confess if I'm not asked. I figure if He didn't ask, then it wasn't that important. I can take care of it the next day without any harm or foul, thank you)  I think if I instituted the Friday rule, you'd stop confessing all together, you'd just say, oh well, I'll pay for it on Friday. And we still wouldn't be even because you would have racked up a lot more than the six."

Does The Man know me or what?!  "I swear I love that you know me so well."

Snuggling me even deeper and kissing the top of my head, "I do at that, baby. Besides, I love your spirit and I'm glad you haven't lost it."

Bliss!

Faaaaabulous Friday!

I love Fridays. Friday nights are the best time of the week. The week is done and put away, yet you still have the whole weekend ahead of you. Not a single moment of the weekend has slipped by and left you wondering where it went. 

In the Mr.Man household we are BIG on appreciation. We spend a lot of time telling each other and showing each other how much we appreciate one another.  Having a good marriage takes a lot of work from both parties. Knowing that the other person doesn't take it for granted, but rather receives it with gratitude, goes along way in keeping the circle going.

I doubt it's easy being the "Big Man." He works hard, long hours to provide for us. He's always there for us whether it's that we need a shoulder to cry on, a good long heart to heart, or a serious kick in the butt. (Okay more like paddle, but you get the idea) He doesn't come home and stare at the TV... He might have a small internet news addiction, but we can forgive that :D I can tell Him anything in the world and He won't yell at me, He won't make me feel like an idiot, or embarrassed.... He'll just listen and make everything okay. In fact, that sums Him up... He always makes everything in the world, okay. He carries our world on His shoulder and that's gotta be a pretty heavy weight.

Likewise, I have to carry my side of the equation. I have to be emotionally open and vulnerable to Him all of the time. I have to think in terms of Him, all of the time... not what I feel like having for dinner, or what I feel like doing, but Him. How can I please Him in this moment? I have to be honest in every possible way. I have to be open to whatever it is He wants at any given moment. I have not just be obedient to what He says, but also to what I know He wants. Other women are out mindlessly blowing their husbands paycheck on shoes (mind you, I'm speaking of nonworking wives) while I'm asking if I can buy a new crockpot.

The crazy thing is that none of this feels like work to either of us. It's just what we do, and we do it with happiness. We fill our roles bringing great contentment to each other. There is really something to the idea that you get back a lot more than you give. It never feels like "giving."

So Since Friday kicks off the weekend I try to do something extra great for The Man. It sets the tone for a loving weekend when He walks in the door and sees I've been thinking of Him and anticipating the weekend with Him. I figured I'd share the idea in case someone else wanted to pick up on it. Okay, I admit it, I encourage everyone to pick up on it :D

So, in case you're thinking... geeze what could I do? I don't have much time! 

Wear a skirt or dress if you normally don't.

Do your hair and make up and look really beautiful just for Him.

Be bent over the bed with your skirt flipped up and His favorite implement laying next to you.

Cook His favorite meal.

If the laundry makes Him crazy.. tackle it!
(Okay so that one isn't great if you don't have much time, but maybe you are home today) 

The point is... do something!  And most importantly..... Tell Him! If that's the only thing you do that's okay, it's the best part... sit on His lap and tell Him how much you appreciate the weight He shoulders for you, and the love He gives you.

I know it might sound obvious, but ya know, sometimes we women make a lot more out of the little things that we don't think are quite right, than all of the things we think are perfect ;)

Have a great weekend!

Label me That

I admit it... I used to get really hung up on labels. I needed one that described me. I needed one that I could easily identify with... hey, we all do it! We like labels, despite our insistence that we shouldn't do it, we like them! We hear the label and boom! we can deduce something about the person and whether or not we think they will fit in with us, or more apt, will we fit in with them? With that group? Will we be accepted? So for ease, for quick deduction, we label. We've always done it, and we listen to our kids doing it.

She's a cheerleader

He's a Jock

She's the Prom Queen type

He's a Lawyer

She's a teacher

He's a Republican

She's a liberal

They are really religious

The list and labels goes on and on. It's all well and fine really, it's what we do. 11 Years ago when I started exploring this thing that had niggled relentlessly in the back of my brain... I was flummoxed! So many labels that I didn't know, let alone could identify with. 

"So, what are you?" 

"Uh, what am I?"

"Yeah, are you a bottom, top, switch, slave, sub, Domme, spanko, brat, 50's lifestyler, what?" 

"Uh... is there an I dream of Jeannie group?" 

Wouldn't it be awesome to hear, "Yeah, next door on the left."

Anyhow~

I tired them on, sub, slave, bottom, spanko, brat, but I seemed to caveat myself out of each of them. I mean, each one hit the spot (HA!) here, or there, but none of them were really all inclusive of who I am. I like all inclusive. I mean I understand there are exceptions to each thing, but when you feel like: I'm z, well, I mean I'm z, but with more s than t, and there isn't any r involved, and I'd be cool with more t, but he likes v better... give me a break!

It's taken me 4 years with Mr. Man to finally get what I am, what I always really longed to be:

Not a modern wife.

Not an independent wife.

An obedient wife.

His obedient wife.

For years I tried to figure out how to walk the line between how our relationship exists and how to portray myself to other people. I really struggled. You feel like you have a secret. You feel like you are pretending to be able to make decisions that are no longer yours to make.. and most women don't understand that. You can't say to someone, "Gee, Louise, I'd love to buy that, but I have to ask Joe for permission." 

Okay, maybe you can, but with the women I know, you sure couldn't.... at least not without some major blow back.  

I was constantly on this wire, trying to be seen "correctly", trying not to reveal "the secret" all while being asked, "How do you guys have such a great marriage?"

Uh......... blink blink 

I finally got it though... I can say, we have a traditional marriage. I can define respect, and obedience, and striving to make Him happy, under that label. And I can still be funny, and I can still be a smart ass (oh so carefully ;D). I can explain why I like keeping the house clean, and making Him breakfast, and listening about His job, and dressing in skirts and dresses, and being a wife. I can explain what being a wife, to me, and to Him, means. Suddenly I have a label, a definition, that suits me, that I don't have to feel like I'm hiding from. Freedom! And more importantly, I have a corner stone to speak from on why our marriage is so great. I want to be able to tell people. I want to help other people explore themselves, and their marriage. I want to help people find the love they doubt really exists. 

When you feel like you have to hide a piece of yourself from everyone else, especially a piece that makes you so happy, you wind up feeling really conflicted about it. You struggle with submitting to Him, because it's wrong. Society says so! And see how screwed up you are because you can't even tell people that you do submit to Him, further proving just how wrong it is... it has to be a secret! Look, submission is hard. Obedience is hard. Even though you desire it, it's still hard. It flies in the face of everything we've been taught. (I'm not supposed to like doing His laundry, I am suppose to bitch about Him leaving it on the floor! Really, just ask anyone!) Pile on the secrecy and you are talking about serious inner conflicts that compound each other exponentially.  

Once I figured that out, once I could let go of all the other titles, and secrets, I could just.. be. I could just be His obedient wife. Striving to please Him. Striving to be more obedient to His desires. I'm never going to be perfect at it. I'm always going to wind up bent over the side of the bed swearing I'll try harder, but now I have a label. I have the name of what exactly I'm striving for... An obedient wife, and everything that label encompasses in my (and His) mind.