There, written in a book, kept by an older mother who feared she would be childless, were the words of my first prayer: “Bless Mommy and Daddy, Grandma and Grandpa, and everyone I know. Help me to be a good girl.”
Just what a “Good Girl” was became my lifelong journey. Did it mean always doing as i was told? Was it to achieve academic success? Ascribe to every religious tenant and live out every lesson in piety?
If so, i had that “Good Girl” prayer answered. In spades.
And i was miserable.
Oh, i continued to do every act expected of me, speak every word as i should, but inside, deep within the most hidden caverns of me, was a darkness that i feared. It was the spectre of a thousand wishes and hopes denied in pursuit of the almighty “Good Girl.”
These shadowy desires swam in a sea of passionate pain, ties and ropes, lashings, and submission. How could i ever let them bask in sunlight’s embrace and still remain me, a Good Girl?
He was always able to see both sides of me, and it was Master who wielded each blow, knotted each bind, delivered each lash, and dominated that which i kept trying to hide.
And when i thought i could take no more, He spoke the words my heart had sought for a lifetime:
Good Girl.
Rule 28: my greatest felt satisfaction is realized when i know i have pleased my Master.
