Musings of a Mouse

Even as I draw my deep breaths, my throat is dry and it catches. My body coming down, my muscles unglueing I don't move, just feel the unwinding, not wanting to disturb it. Each exhale pulls me apart and lets me fall deeper into the warm security that's been missing for a while. 

The comfort I feel in this warm dark is unparalleled. The safety in your arms that tighten instinctively, the heavy sleeping breaths on my neck that I try to match, the pressure of another body pressing me down into sleep. 

Every time I get into a place where I begin to feel settled, begin to be able to be comfortable in my place, the universe just punches me straight in the face. 

Maybe it shouldn't matter, maybe my submission should be the thing I lean into when everything else is being torn away from me. There's not really a maybe, I know that's exactly what I should do and it's what I want to do but I can't. I shut down. I pull in. I don't trust anything. I lash out and hurt anyone trying to be close to me because it feels like it's going to just be taken away anyway. 

I want to do better this time. I think that I can. I've put too much work to get to where I am to go back now and my people deserve this, I deserve this. 

I've run into a little confusion. And by that I mean I've crashed face first into an identity crisis. I am in a LDR that was supposed to have become a no distance relationship earlier this year, but thanks COVID, not in the cards for us. 

We spent a good three months together during the pandemic, but I had to come home before my visa ran out. During those three months we relished each other's company, our dynamic was relaxed but so loving and so involved. The level of trust and devotion was intoxicating. Just being able to touch each other was.... the most affirming thing I could have imagined. 

Since being home I've been reeling. I got very comfortable with the dynamic we could have being together and once that was gone I've found it very hard to adjust back. Not being able to just reach out for a hand to hold, or having feet to sit at, just these small things I took for granted while I had them had become key stones of our relationship and then, they were gone. 

This has had a range of consequences, from me developing some big insecurities, to having a huge impact on our play times with both of us mourning the fact that we can't have physical contact anymore. The hurt that we were feeling (me more loudly and far more messily than him) made me struggle through various unhealthy coping strategies. Of course he has been doing his best to help me, often putting his own struggles on the back burner. 

I feel like I'm finally at a place where we have worked enough out that we're stable and this reprieve has given me time to reflect on my role, my position. Before now I'd been happy enough to be called a little, to be identified that way and to be treated as that as my main role. But somewhere in this mess a phrase has looped itself around my brain over and over. "Just a little". It became a terrible mantra for anytime I felt like I'd disappointed him. I'm just a little, of course I'm not enough, of course I'm messing up. I don't mean this in any way to hurt anyone who identifies with that title, just that it doesn't fit right anymore. More than that even, I've turned it into a bad thing for me, honestly I've spoiled something that used to be such a happy place for me. 

But I need to be more than "Just a little", I need to not see myself as a disappointment anymore, I need to feel like this matters, like I'm being taken seriously as a submissive and that I am taking seriously my position as a submissive. I know this is something that he is fully enthusiastic about exploring with me, but I am having a world of trouble even defining what I want and need for myself, let alone trying to put it into cohesive thoughts to give to him. 

I love my Dada very much. He is a knowledgeable man, but he isn't above being wrong and he will listen to anyone if they have a point to make. He gives his whole self to things to the point of obsession but it comes from a place of deep caring. The people he gathers around him he would do just about anything for and he shows more love then he will ever understand.

Those things are all true, and yet he considers himself an asshole, an unkind person. Sure he can be blunt and absolutely he has no patience for stupid, but chances are, if he is telling you something you don't want to hear, it's your own fault for asking. People flock to my Dada for advice and guidance and when they do that he gives his honest opinions. He will tell you the things you don't want to tell yourself and if that makes him an asshole, then he's proud to wear that badge.

But when you tell yourself something over and over you start to believe it. Sometimes it's very hard to hear him talk about himself like he is the bad guy, when really he is a great man. I do my best to make him feel worthy of all the love he gets. I get to see those softer moments when he is questioning himself and it makes me happy that I can be his support in those time as he is so often for me.

I think it's easy to forget that these pillars of strength in our lives have a breaking point and are vulnerable too. It's easy to forget when you are used to being taken care of, that all these little things you need to feel secure and loved are work and are taxing, even though they would not give it up for anything. I think we can take for granted things that are given to us, and that we should make sure that with all that we are taking, we are giving back with as much heart as we are given this care

Okie so my Dada has asked me to write the story of how my relationship with my Mr became what it is today, a happy, loving, polyamorous mess. It might come out a bit like a fairytale but that's because it kinda is. 

The very first night we were together, I made him question everything his Mama ever taught him by telling him that 'No' doesn't always mean no. From there we explored our kinky desires together and developed into a d/s dynamic quite naturally. That being said, it took a lot of painfully honest and open discussions, mistakes and misunderstandings, negotiation and renegotiation.... 

Eventually we settled into a comfortable space for the two of us, but I felt myself still struggling with feeling properly fulfilled. I knew my Mr was giving me all he could and I knew pushing him into being something he isn't would make us both unhappy and I didn't want that at all. So the logical solution was to find someone who could help fill the needs my soft, sweet Mr isn't capable of. 

Now, the idea of having this conversation with him made me feel a little sick, imagine anyone telling you that you weren't enough for them, how could I be so ungrateful for the amazing man I've been blessed with? But I felt the emptiness of a bad patch closing in and knew that this time I needed to do something. So I put my big girl panties on and asked for what I wanted, because the worst that could happen was for him to say no. 

I waited for a good time, when I knew we could both focus on the topic at hand without distractions or messy emotions from other things negatively affecting the conversation, which for us happens to be a nice snuggily weekend morning and I opened as directly as I know how. 

"Mr, I need to discuss something with you and it's very important to me, so I need you to listen with an open mind and please not interrupt because this is going to be hard for me to say"

"Uh ok baby, what is it?"

"First, I need you to understand I love you with all my heart and I need you in my life. I'm not saying this to accuse you of anything or ask you to change, but I need more."

The conversation went on, my Mr heard me out in quiet contemplation and when I was finished he asked for some time, which I gave him. Two whole days I died, but he needed that time to process his thoughts properly and it was important to let that happen. Eventually he came back to me and agreed to let this happen and we set out some ground rules for my safety. 

Now I realise this is literally the best outcome I could have wished for, and results will vary depending on your own relationship, but open, honest, adult conversations about your needs, in my experience at least, can only lead to good things. Maybe not exactly what you were after, but at least an understanding, or a compromise, or in my case the ability to have two amazing Daddies that love me very much. 

I'm not an emotionally open person, despite being empathetic to a fault. I don't like to let others see me weak or needy or broken, and a lot of the time I don't allow myself to feel these things for fear of people seeing me as anything but put together and stable.

But my guys are my strength, my safe place to feel weak and small and vulnerable. I know that they will keep me safe and mostly sane, so slowly I have been able to let some of these gross feelings exist inside me without being scared that an ounce of badness will send me back into that dark place this lifestyle pulled me out of. 

I ran from unhappiness like it was the plague, doing everything in my power to avoid discomfort, disappointment, loss or rejection, and if I'm honest I still do sometimes, but with that security and guidance that one gets from living this life I've been allowed to feel the good side of these emotions too, the hope and excitement, the thrill of trying something new and actually enjoying it. I can be more open with the people I trust and let them see when I'm hurting and actually have a support network when I need it. 

So I guess what I'm trying to say is, don't be scared to be a mess, because some of the best things in the world make the biggest messes.