Welcome Lurkers

Hello everyone, today is Love our Lurkers day.  I'm very new to blogging having started just 2 weeks ago. A little less then a year ago I was one of you, a lurker. I was interested in exploring spanking and D/s with the intent of incorporating it into my marriage of 25 years. It was an interest that I had suppressed for a long time.  So I went exploring and found a wonderful community. I felt like I had found a place of like minded people. I learned lots and confused myself more than I ever thought I could. I have to tell you I lurked almost till the day I made my first post. I was very nervous about commenting. I would read a post and have tons of things I wanted to say and questions to ask, then I would click on the comment box and my mind would go blank. Nothing, all the thoughts in my head, gone.  The few times I was able to make some kind of half way intelligent comment I worried I would sound stupid or arrogant, I worried I would be judged. I'm very happy to say if anyone found me stupid or arrogant they have never said so. If they judged me, they didn't show it.

Since I have started my own writing I feel more comfortable about commenting. It may be naive of me, but I don't worry about being judged anymore, mainly because I don't judge others. Also because I am making some lovely friends. People just like me, yet different. I find the differences interesting.

I am working through my issues and getting wonderful support from the friends I am making. It is like therapy for me, only much cheaper. The different opinions and points of view often stimulate me to see things I may not have seen, to consider things in a way I may have never considered.

I'm still working on learning the blogger program, any tech savvy people out there?  I could use all the help I can get, so any tips, hints, advice, simple instructions, feel free to share. I'd be grateful for the help.  I'm probably one of the least tech savvy people left, but I'm trying.  Feel free to browse through the blogroll, I'm still adding some of the blogs I follow, some I've added don't seem to be showing up and I'm not sure why. Any suggestions would be appreciated.

If you have any comments or questions on anything I post, don't be shy, speak up. I like the mental stimulation and you won't be judged here, even if  your opinion is diametrically opposite of mine. It's ok, you never know, what you have to say might be something I need to hear. If you're like me and get stage fright when you click on the comment box the only suggestion I have is say Hi, that always works.  If you would be comfortable commenting by email, go ahead, click on the little envelope and send an email. That's what I eventually did, reached out by email to another blogger, PK at http://elisnewbeginnings.blogspot.com/ She has been encouraging and supportive every step of the way. I am very fortunate to be able to call her a friend.   I can always use another friend, so go ahead, leave a comment, ask a question or just say Hi.

My Secret

The following post deals with a very difficult subject for me. It will be raw and unedited as that is the only way I can do it.  I am writing this for myself only with the only consideration for anyone who chooses to read it being my regret that I am spewing so much negative energy into the world. But I simply can't keep it in anymore.


I have a secret. It's a secret I have carried my whole life. It is not a secret I kept by choice, as a child it was forced upon me. As an adult I tried to stop letting it be a secret, but I soon found out that it was just too painful for most people to hear. So it remained a secret. This isn't the first time I have dealt with it. I've lived my life for long periods of time without it intruding.  I haven't dealt with it alone, I haven't kept this a secret from my husband.  I would not have survived or had the wonderful life I have had without him. I have long considered him my reward for surviving. He made me strong enough to stop being a victim and become a survivor. This is my secret.

I am an incest survivor.
My father raped me, he used me, repeatedly for years.
My biological father taught me how to sexually service him.
I still feel the disgust of my childhood memories.

My first memory is of my mother, pregnant with my brother. My father told me that while she was in the hospital having my brother I would be sleeping with him in their bed. I knew what would be expected of me. The things I would have to let him do and the things I would have to do to him. I didn't want to do it, but I wasn't given a choice. My brother is 3 1/2 years younger then me. He doesn't know my secret.

My next memory, I'm sitting in a rocking chair in our living room, I'm about 7 or  8yrs old. I was sitting quietly reading a book. I read everything I could get my  hands on. My mother was having tea with a friend in the kitchen. The lady was a neighborhood mother with kids my siblings and I played with regularly. She often came over for tea with mom. I doubt they knew I could hear them from where I sat reading. My mother was mad at my father about something, I heard to her say to her friend that she was cutting my father off from sex. I so distinctly still hear her words, "He can go stick it in a coke bottle for all I care". All I could think of was no, it wasn't going to be a coke bottle. I knew things would be getting worse for me. I started to cry, but I knew if my mother heard me crying she would come and ask me about it. I couldn't tell her. I was afraid that when I couldn't tell her she would get mad and take my book away. She knew that would be worse for me then the belt. That didn't really work anymore. So she had started taking my books away. So, I stopped crying. I didn't cry again for a very long time.

I know that my father must have said something to me at some point to get me not to say anything. I always knew it was wrong. I never wanted to do those things. But every time I would think about telling I get over whelmed with dread. I still do.  It pisses me off that I can't remember what he said that made me know I couldn't tell anyone. I have tried to rationalize that it really doesn't matter anymore. But I still get pissed about it.

I was 10 yrs old when I started my menstrual cycle. It didn't stop him. I had read enough to worry about getting pregnant. Which I did, until it stopped about a year later.

It's common where I live to have showers in the basements, the homes are old, many still have the original claw foot tubs in the bathrooms. That's what we had in our home, a big heavy claw foot tub, so my parents put in a shower in the basement. The basement wasn't finished, the washer and dryer were just a few feet from the shower curtain. I was 11 1/2 yrs old. I was sitting in the living room reading. My mother was doing something and asked me to get the laundry from the dryer. My father was down there taking a shower. I didn't want to go down there, I knew if I did he would get me.  I tried to tell her I would get it as soon as dad was done in the shower. But she insisted. She threatened to use the belt. Getting beat with the belt was nothing new I had been beat with it many times throughout my life by both of them. Welts from my knees to my mid back were not uncommon. Actually, they hardly did that anymore, it just didn't work. I would take whatever they gave and never let out a peep. But, I just got tired of arguing and went to get the laundry. I wasn't down in the basement long enough to even begin to get the laundry. He heard me open the basement door and come down the stairs. He was waiting with the shower still going and the shower curtain open. A few minutes later when I didn't come back up my mother came down to see what was going on. My father didn't hear her coming down.  I was on my knees, in front of him, his hand was on my head I got pushed away and told to go to my room.  And that's it. that's all I remember about that. Except, I do feel like she set me up.

A few weeks after that I started going to therapy, it was awful. I had to get out of school early, but I couldn't tell any of my school friends where I was going or why. I had to take the bus downtown by myself once a week. It was fall into winter time. It is cold and dark and snowy where I live at those times of the year. The whole experience of getting there was so terrifying and I could tell the therapist was just guiding me to say certain things so she could say I was ok. So I figured out what to say as soon as I could so I wouldn't have to do it anymore.

I wish I could say that was the end, oh how I wish that was the end. In a way it is the end, but it is also a beginning, there is more I need to say. I have to follow it to the end. The end is where I'm at now. I want this to be the end and the beginning. Be well my friends, I'm sorry if this caused any pain.

Stuck in the vortex

I'm stuck in a vortex of negative emotions. They're swirling around me and dragging me down.

I have been dealing with something very ugly, very negative. It's something I have dealt with before, more then once. Every time I think it is going to be the last time. I think its gone and won't effect me anymore. When it surfaced again many months ago, it pissed me off. I couldn't believe that here it was again. This issue I had dealt with before and thought I had put behind me for good. I really thought it couldn't hurt me anymore. I've been dealing with all the same emotions again that surround it. The anger and rage that I have to face it again. The pain and betrayal of what occurred. The guilt that I feel because I'm not strong enough to not let this effect me. It's a ghost that stands between us, that holds me back from being the person I want to be. I've wrestled with how to deal with it. I've considered just forgetting everything and being happy with what I have. After all, what I have is great, maybe it would be better to just push it back down and ignore it. If I don't pursue my interest in spanking and D/s then this issue will eventually go away. I tried, I stepped back many times, stopped lurking, stopped reading and learning. But I'm a greedy bitch, as good as things are I want more. I don't want this to limit me anymore. So I started this blog, knowing that eventually it would come out and hoped it would help me to finally get past it for good. I've been gathering my strength to write about it, to face the issue and put it to rest.  I'm afraid it will completely break me and I won't be able to recover. I feel like a dam waiting to burst and when it does all the ugliness will spew forth and I won't be able to stop it.  I have been doing a relatively good job of keeping it under control and not letting it effect our relationship. Until Saturday night. I made the mistake of letting my guard down. I was riding the high from Friday night. I felt like I had a breakthrough Friday night. In the euphoria of my accomplishment I mistakenly thought, maybe I don't need to write about it, maybe I can work it out by myself.  Wrong. Saturday night my husband said something, something that if I had had my guard up would never have hurt me. But, I didn't have my guard up and in a flash there it was, right in my face. I've been stuck in the vortex of emotions ever since. It definitely effected the rest of our weekend.   When I'm upset I don't lash out, I get quiet, very quiet. We barely spoke to each other yesterday. I did explain when asked that I was hurt by what he said. He apologized, but I could tell by the look on his face he doesn't understand. I haven't told him that this issue has come back. I think he probably suspects it. I catch him watching me sometimes, just watching me. He probably wonders, but he doesn't ask.  He doesn't ask, cause if that's not it, he doesn't want to be the one to bring it up and cause me pain. I haven't told him because it makes me feel like a burden to him. Like I'm flawed and he deserves someone better. I always think I can protect him from this when in reality I'm not strong enough to protect anyone. So here I sit, stuck in the vortex, swirling down, down, down. The ugliness is welling up, I can't control it anymore. The dam is going to burst, and its going to be ugly.

Submissive or selfish?

Once I got over the shock of realizing I was submissive to my husband I of course had to know how this had happened. So I started looking at all the details of our life together.
I just have to say, it doesn't seem submissive to me, it seems selfish. This is why:
I lived alone for 5 years before I met my husband, took care of all my own finances. Once we married I continued to do it even though I really didn't want to. Hated it in fact. When we decided to have our first child I told him I no longer wanted to do the finances. He took over and does a much better job then I ever did.  I'm not a money oriented person, its a necessary evil I would rather not deal with. My husband is a very generous man. If he says no to something he has a good reason for it. Seems selfish to me that I get basically everything I want and never have to worry about the money end of things.

As for driving, I hate driving, I would be so happy if I never had to drive anywhere again. My husband prefers to drive. We made a deal almost immediately, he is my designated driver for life. I like knowing as I'm flitting about some party or social event that he is watching out for me, protecting me, thinking about the time and our other responsibilities. I don't worry or think about any of it. All I have to do is get in the car when he tells me. And "you about ready" can mean anything ranging from these people are idiots and I've hit my limit(usually a work function) all the way to I wanna jump your bones. Thats my favorite one.  And I have been known to tell friends that's why I'm leaving the party, got a better offer. He even keeps track of my shoes for me, cause inevitably they come off some time during the event( I despise shoes and only wear them when required by law). Seems selfish to me.

Forget me even trying to buy a car, the only things I would consider are the color and does the stereo work. He however considers everything, picks out the car that is best for my needs at the time and buys it. I show up just in time to sign the paperwork and drive it home. Seems selfish to me.
Housework, cooking and laundry is something I learned to do at a very young age. It takes time but almost no effort on my part. It's just automatic for me. So, I do something that I would be doing anyway and bonus, it makes him happy.  I never mentioned all the stuff he does for me. I haven't put gas in my own car since the day I met him I think. He does everything, I just drive it. I'm so spoiled he even gets it out of the garage for me because I don't like messing with it.  Meanwhile his car is out on the street, covered in snow. Seems selfish to me.

He's a picky eater, I'm a non eater. It is something he noticed almost immediately and set out to fix. He fed me constantly.  He likes simple foods, meat and potatoes and he's happy. Knowing I need to cook something simple for him everyday helps me keep my issues with food under control.  Yep, seems selfish to me.

As for saying no to sex, well thats a no brainer, multiple orgasms, need I say more?
Very, very selfish of me.

I DID IT!!!!!! I'M SO HAPPY!!!

Yay, I'm so happy. I did it. I did it, I did it. Yay me. 
I know you want to know what "IT" is. I'm not telling, cause what "IT" is, is not the important thing. The important thing is I DID IT. 
It's something so simple, so easy really and very vanilla. Something he wanted but would never ask for. He knows it takes me to bad dark places. He protects me from those places, so he never asks. It pissed me off big time I couldn't do this. I've been working on it for the past couple months.  Last night I did it. He liked it, I liked it and no bad dark places.  And I slept the best I've slept in months.
 He told me this morning he will be thanking me tonight. He doesn't owe me any thanks. If anything I owe him thanks for being so understanding and patient.  But I'm gonna let him anyway, afterall, if it makes him happy, who am I to deny him.  Hee,Hee,Hee.  

The spider and the fly.

I'm so agitated, I feel the energy building and I'm going to explode.

I don't know what happened, the day started off so nicely. Morning sex, yay. You know the kind. You're both awake, almost. You look at the clock and realize you actually have a few minutes before you have to get the day started. Its quick, its familiar, its lazy, its comforting. A stolen few moments to connect. A reminder of why you get out of bed and do the things required of you during the day.

OK, doing fine so far. Get the day started, nice convo with my son while driving him to school.  We've had a rough couple years with him, things are getting better now.

Things still good, start cleaning cause that's what I do, especially if I want to avoid something else.

 I'm avoiding looking for a job. I seriously get heart palpitations just thinking about working again. This is not something I ever had a problem with. I have built a career that has been very rewarding. I work in health care. I always knew I would.  I was good at it too.  If you have a medical emergency or issue I'm a good person to have around. I can handle just about anything. I've seen alot.

Here's the problem as I can identify so far. Several years ago I was working at a trauma center in our city, its one of the biggest employers in our city. I had worked there for many years. I started feeling burned out. There were other things I wanted to do, but didn't know how. We talked alot about it, he fully supported me going back to school to learn whatever I wanted. I got the info and got everything setup to start school. There were power shifts at the hospital, my job was a casualty. I started school as scheduled, I found another job within a few months. It was a small family owned company. I was one of only 12 employees, more males then females. It was a unique experience. I actually liked all the people I worked with, but I hated what I did. It sucked the last little bit of my soul right out of me. I couldn't keep up with all my obligations and did not finish school. It contributed to my crash and burn moment.

I can't just remove my emotions from it and find a job, as much as I would like too. As with most places, the economy here sucks. My choices are limited. My husband would have no problem with me staying home if we could afford it. I've been out of work for 16 months, the only reason we aren't totally desperate is because of him.  He's being so patient and so supportive. He's waiting for me to get my shit together and make some decisions. Because this goes so much deeper than just a job, it goes all the way to the core of who I am. This isn't a decision he can make, he knows this. Only I can figure out what will truly make me happy, once I do then he can help me get it. He will, he always does, no matter how wacky he thinks it is. As long as its not detrimental to me or our family he's fine with me being a bit wacky. If pressed he might admit he enjoys it. Just look for that little grin and the slight shake of his head. Then watch his eyes as he looks at me, see that twinkle. I want to see that more often. That's why I can't give up. That's why I have to face the ugly stuff I know is coming.
I'm just not strong enough yet. But I'm getting close.

Feeling better now, more positive. Like I've unraveled another knot in the string that is choking me. Life feels like a spider web right now. And I'm the fly.

Submissive? Who? Me?

Not me.

I've been told I'm intimidating, so many times in fact I was beginning to think that was my real name.  I've been told I'm overconfident. Really, is there such a thing as too much confidence? I've been described as a strong woman. What's wrong with being strong?  I had breakfast with a close friend this past weekend, she was telling me her brother's impression of me, (we had just met recently), she just laughed and told him  "that's faerie, you always know where you stand with her." . Shy and retiring I'm not.  Nope, I'm not submissive. Not me.

Well, maybe, let me just take a look at it:

My Husband takes care of all the finances, I get an allowance and I ask before I buy anything.

I rarely ever go anywhere without my husband, he always drives when we do go out. He decides when and where we go when we go out. When we are out he decides when we come home. He says, "you about ready?" That's my cue to say my goodbyes.

The only say I've had in any of the cars I've driven for the last 25 years has been the color. He has picked out every single one of them.

I do the housework and the cooking and the laundry.  I've often teased him about having a laundry faerie, cause as far as he is concerned his clothes magically appear clean and folded in his drawers. My mother has asked my why I "wait on my husband hand and foot?"

He's a picky eater, he grocery shops with me and picks out what he wants to eat.

My schedule definitely revolves around his.

I've never denied him my body.

Hmmm, can I be intimidating and confident and strong and submissive all at the same time?
Yeah I guess I can, cause once I really stopped and looked at it, I'm submissive, but only to him.

I wonder if he knows he's the HOH?