I've been at my new job for 4 months. It took me two years to find this opportunity, but it was so worth everything I went through to find it. I absolutely LOVE what I do. I work in a day program for senior citizens, except, these aren't normal senior citizens. All of my clients carry a label. They carry the label of mental retardation. I say, I take care of little kids, in old people bodies, cause that's exactly what they are.
It is a physically and mentally challenging job, but it's so rewarding. My clients have some of the purest energy I've ever encountered. We play games, we do arts and crafts, we go on outings. I wipe noses and sometimes butts, but I also get hugs and kisses. They are always happy to see me and crowd around me every morning to ask how I am and share their stories with me. It's really quite wonderful.
The staff I work with are quite varied. They consist of both men and women, young and old. At 48, I fall in the middle of the age range. My position is referred to as a sub, ironic, I know, but it so fits me. Many of the people I work with have been there for many years, they are like one big happy, if somewhat dysfunctional, family. I'm honored that they have embraced and welcomed me as one of their own. It's made being the new girl a very easy thing.
I have always tended to be somewhat guarded at work about who I am. I've never really shared enough about myself for anyone to suspect that I might be submissive. This group of people is different and things that have happened lately, lets me know I no longer care if they figure it out.
One woman was talking about needing to get her hair cut, it's very short to begin with, but she says she needs it trimmed. I, without even thinking, shared that I needed to go get mine done too. I need to add some layers to tame the wild curls. This woman suggested that I should get 3 inches trimmed off. Apparently, I did not cover my look of horror at having that much of my hair cut, cause she commented on it. She specifically told me, "don't look so horrified, it's just hair." Yeah, not so much for me. Thank goodness I just thought that and didn't say it.
Then, there was a general conversation about money, specifically their lack of it. Again, I didn't think. I spilled that Musicman controls the money, but that he always gives me what I want, within reason of course. One of the male staff said I had a Sugar Daddy. I have never thought of Musicman that way before, but I guess if I look at things objectively, I understand why they might think that way. They know I drive a new car, that he pays for. They know I am required to do nothing to the car other than drive it. I don't even put gas in it. Musicman does that for me.
They have all tried to talk me into working full time, to no avail. I have no problem telling them that I don't work full time, cause Musicman takes such great care of me that I don't need too, nor do I want too. I also have no problems telling them about the things I would rather be doing, namely, things I enjoy doing to take care of Musicman. They know how much I look forward to our rare weekends alone. I don't say it specifically, but it wouldn't take a genius to figure out why I look forward to our private time. They've heard me say on occasion that Momma needs to get her groove on. They've also seen me come in after a weekend alone with Musicman, extremely happy and energetic.
Despite the fact that I work with such a varied staff , I am one of only two people who have a long term relationship. The one other woman in a long term relationship, 17 years, approached me yesterday to ask for advice. She explained that communication with her husband has broken down, to the point of nonexistence, they fight all the time. She asked me how to fix it. I will admit, I was at a bit of a loss as to what to say that wouldn't totally reveal me as submissive. Thank goodness I only I had a few minutes before my clients intruded and ended that conversation, but I would still like to help her if I can. I have a few days off to think about it, suggestions are welcome.