I spend a lot of time thinking and talking about what’s expected OF me, being owned and all… But I’m not going to talk about what he expects of me here…

I’m going to be (start?) talking about what I expect.

“Nothing” would be a giant lie, in case you were wondering.

I think I have two kinds of expectations.  Little ones and big ones.  The little ones need a post of their own, because they make me think, and some of them aren’t so much “little” as they are “fluid” (or temporary, or something… See?  Thinking.)  The big ones look something like this…

• As his property, I expect to be taken care of and protected, skillfully.
• As his pet, I expect my basic needs to be provided for, always.
• As his slave, I expect to be reminded of my place, mentally and physically.
• As his woman, I expect to be loved, exclusively.

And… I could ask myself (or you guys) a lot of questions about these expectations or explain precisely what I mean in detail.  And I came into this post thinking I would do a lot of explaining (and who knows, I might end up explaining later).  Stuff like: What exactly do I mean by those… Do I expect too much, too little… Is the third one in direct contradiction to the others… What do I mean by “always” in that second one, because I certainly don’t mean ALWAYS…  Etc.

But you know what the brilliant thing is?  It doesn’t matter.  All that matters is if Antonio is nodding and saying, “Yup,” to my expectations.

I think they might all be a product of how he’s molded me and how he expects me to view us and our relationship anyway.  So they might not even be personal expectations.  They might simply be what I’ve come to expect as a result of what he expects OF me.  Which is, as it happens, exactly what I said I wasn’t going to talk about here. Huh. Seems I can’t really avoid talking about him, though, even when I SWEAR I’m talking about me.  (Shocking, no?)

The always amazing Kaya gave me a Friend Award!!!

It included the following pass-it-on paragraph: “These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers.”

I was so ridiculously happy, humbled, and slightly emotional. Thank you, Tess. I have found great comfort, gained much insight, and been given many laughs as a result of reading your blog. I feel I owe you some kind of debt for sharing your time and words with the world at large.

According to the rules, I had to give he award to eight other bloggers who hadn’t already been chosen. Upon reading this, I came to a realization… I am somewhat lame, and don’t know that many bloggers yet. My limited reader is basically full of people who have already gotten the award.  (Rightfully so, I might add.)

*sulk*

But, because it’s me, I’ll take the opportunity to ramble a little about friendships.

In my real life, Antonio is my best friend, hands down. I know, it’s a groan-worthy cliché, but it’s also completely true. He’s everything I have ever wanted in a best friend, except he won’t let me paint his nails. (Hey, nobody’s perfect.)

Aside from The Man, I have a close circle of long-time friends. I chose them early, and I am proud to say I chose them well. Some of us have become separated by long distances over the years, but all of them I’ve known for over a dozen years. I’m only 25.

Then there are my fellow bloggers! I have found some truly amazing people here. It seems a little tacky to name them, so I won’t. I hope they know how much I care about them, their words, their support, and their lives.

These bloggers, particularly the group of (mostly) submissive women I come into contact with, often claim they “make bad friends.” But I don’t think that’s necessarily true.

I think we, as devoted servants, can have less time and freedom to spend on our friendships, yes. But I think the time we do spend on each other becomes more concentrated and powerful and important as a result. There are people I spoke to daily in high school and considered my “friends,” but I was barely bothered when we didn’t keep in touch after graduation. Yet there are people here I have spoken to much less often, over a much shorter period of time, yet I find myself deeply affected by them, their ability to share, and their willingness to get to know me and support me. I have even found myself upset to think I might be disliked.

Now, I am not one to care if someone unimportant to me dislikes me. And if someone I dislike has a problem with me or someone I love? Watch out, because I have no reason to hold back. I do, however, feel bad when someone I care about dislikes me. It hurts, and makes me generally desperate to find out what’s wrong, what I did, and what I can do to make up for it. I’ve had fights before, with other friends, and Antonio has to stop me from groveling, essentially. At this point in my life, I have taken a route of silence when I think I am disliked by someone I want to be friends with. If someone seems to have a problem with me – silently, overtly, loudly, or even cruelly – I make every effort to simply make myself small and quiet. I try to let everything slide, I don’t engage, I don’t force myself upon them. I used to, in answer to my desperation to find out what was wrong. But not anymore.

I wonder, sometimes, if this comes across as cold. Or uncaring. It is quite the opposite. I only do it IF I care. If I didn’t? I’d do whatever I pleased, and not take into consideration how someone felt about me. But if I think someone is negatively affected by interaction with me, I will make an effort to hold myself back from interacting. But still… I wonder if this is the wrong route to take. If it is, I’m unsure what the right one could be.

In any case, the deep connection I feel to some bloggers has become very important to me. I love that I’ve been allowed to have a blog (thank you, Master), and to meet and interact with such incredibly strong, devoted, intelligent, funny, and caring women.

I know some of you will continue to maintain that slaves make bad friends. But you don’t fool me. I think you are wonderful friends.

You are all stars. Shine on.

Ever been in a situation where you’ve got multiple orders contradicting one another? I’m assuming I’m not the only one. However, I MIGHT be the only one who mulls over the intricacies of just such a situation like it’s going outta style. (In related news, it’s frequently brought to my attention that I am a bit neurotic.)

This post was a whole lot longer. Explaining what I did and why, but I don’t think that part is actually important. (It’s not that I mind sharing, I don’t, it’s just boring and not really the point and I’m KILLING myself trying to make a short post for once.)

I chose the lesser of two evils. I broke one rule to prevent breaking bigger rules.

But it FEELS kinda wrong. It feels wrong to decide, on my own, which rules and orders are “more important” than others. In this instance, it wasn’t that big a deal. It was a minor offense, and I wasn’t punished for it, because (I think) he saw it as I did – me making a choice I had to make.

And I know I can’t be this useless pile of goo who can’t do anything on her own.  Being a slave doesn’t mean I can be useless when the time comes to make choices.  I know that.  I just…  *squirms*  I am uncomfortable making all the decisions I made, all by my lonesome.

I decided I had no other decent options other than to break a rule.

I also decided which rule was more important than the other.

I further decided it was okay to willingly break a rule and face the punishment instead, if it meant preventing bigger rule-breaking.

And that last one is what really got me, I think.

I honestly think I was okay given my circumstances this time. I did what I had to do, when unable to get input from him. Antonio seems to think so too.  I’m not upset about what I did, or why.  Not this time.  I’m just musing…

Because it seems like a bit of a slippery slope from “I had to do break the rule” to “Yeah, that’s right, I broke the rule ‘cause I’d rather just have the punishment… What’s it to ya, punk?”

I don’t ever want to catch myself being told, “Do as I say, or face punishment” and feeling as if it’s an actual choice.

It’s not a choice… It can’t be a choice…  Right?  I mean, RIGHT?!?!  No choices like that for me, thanks!  Do Not Want!

I want to think I don’t get to choose between doing what he says and punishment. He’s not offering them both up for me to barter with myself and my desires. I am NOT being offered an either or situation. I do not have the option to choose punishment!

But, yanno, technically, I do.

I CAN just fail on purpose, or go against orders for the hell of it and earn the punishment instead. And that irritates the hell out of me.

I mean, I’m comfortably buffered by the simple fact that knowing I’ve let him down is something I never want to do.  Ever. When he is disappointed in me, I writhe mentally (and okay, fine, sometimes physically) and hate the entire effing world. I’m melodramatic as all get out, I know, but it feels like nothing is right in my world, and I may as well just drop dead a few times because I’m already a rotting, stinking, putrid cesspool of fail.

Have I failed before? Sure have. Have I not given something my full attention? Yup. Have I forgotten, misunderstood, or generally just sucked at stuff? Check, check, and check. I’ve probably even sabotaged my own efforts because I can be a hormonal, moronic wench.  And the other night, I purposely broke a rule because I felt I had to.

I just don’t ever want to catch myself breaking a rule because I didn’t feel like trying.  I don’t ever want to think to myself, “Screw it, I choose punishment.”   That kinda scares me, you know?

I know it’s not something I have to concern myself with.  (I also know I just ended that sentence in a preposition.) In fact, I imagine if it began happening with any sort of regularity, it would signal something much larger was wrong in our relationship. And even being afraid of slipping down the slope inadvertently is probably silly of me.   The Man watches out for stuff like that and he enacts corrective/preventative measures long before the fall.  But still.  I worry anyway.

It’s a skill, I’m sure of it.

(Does this count as a short post?)

I read a poll once of the “Top Ten Things a Man Wants from His Wife.”  The number one thing was “Belief in his capabilities.”  Not sex or love or fidelity – though I’m sure those are up there.  And, no I can’t vouch for the validity of this poll, and who knows if it was in any way scientific… But it made me think.

See, sometimes, I like to remind myself of things.  It doesn’t mean I forgot them, or that I’m failing to recognize them (er, well sometimes it does.)  I think I might be a bit special, because I do like to sit around and think about some of the same things over and over.

Some are like mantras – they are favorite thoughts or ideas and I think they gain strength through repetition. Some are things I do and do well, but just like to think about anyway. And some, yes, I need to repeat because I’m less-than-awesome at them. And that poll reminded me of one from each category. So… Here they are!  From my brain to your eyeballs.

I’m against castration.

(That’ll make sense.  Swear.)

No man with even a smidge of dominant inclinations wants to be looked down on, especially not by his woman.

And maybe this is me being a self-righteous twat, but I don’t think it should take an outward expression of “there is a power exchange in our relationship” for a woman to figure out that THIS makes her man tick.  (Because I know a LOT of people not in PE relationships, and the men are still… Shockingly… “Typical” men.)  And sometimes, it seems like it does take that declaration…

I think many men in general are driven to be protectors and providers. Or at least, to take pleasure in that. No, not all men. And I’m certainly not saying men “should” do that. I’m just saying many do. And the moment a man like this feels his partner is disregarding or diminishing or taking for granted his capacity to protect or provide… Well, I think she has either irritated, angered, hurt, or effectively castrated her man.

Lame. I want no part of that. But I like how often I see things that remind me of this idea. I like seeing how often, in so many interactions (both personal and witnessed), it is reflected that the theory holds.

Man-bashing gets the thumbs down.

The sport of man-bashing has reached some serious heights. Most of my female friends and coworkers engage in this activity almost daily. I can’t count the number of times I hear things like, “And then, he called me back and said blah and I was like blah, and he SO didn’t get it because he’s such a fucking idiot all the time!!!”

I just stand there, with a perfect mask of engaged and amused, while thinking to myself: “You realize you just called your husband a ‘fucking idiot’ right? I trust that hasn’t escaped your genius mind, yeah? If it’s not true, well STFU or GTFO.  If it’s true, well, see previous acronyms anyway. ”

I honestly don’t know what they get out of it, so I won’t pretend I do.

But many “typical” male endeavors are about power and domination – and I don’t think people should kid themselves that this motivation is left behind on the battlefield, at the sporting event, or five rungs up the corporate ladder. It’s not. It comes home with him too.

And… I don’t know… I struggle to understand. If you’ve seen the man you love succeed at something important, seen his reaction to being celebrated and championed for how completely amazing he is (and, dammit he IS), how could you not want to give him that? Why would you want to beat him down, even in small ways? In public or in private? Why? I don’t… I don’t get it.

This one blows my mind, and I’m proud to say it’s something I don’t even have to try to avoid. I’m just not in the business of sitting around and badmouthing my Man.  Kthnxbi.

Apparently, giving is receiving.

I have plenty of needs and desires and goals. In fact, I’m a greedy little wench. I want a LOT. It’s just that nothing I could ever want, strive for, and attain would have any deep meaning if I couldn’t attribute it to, share it with, or earn it from my Master. I think, superficially, it looks a bit troublesome to be a greedy slave.

But I have a really ninja way around that.

If I want, want, want… I have to give, give, give. I’ve seen men work harder, love stronger, and trust deeper if their women get off their high horses and focus their every effort on him. And if I can do that?  Focus everything on him. I will want for nothing. And if I do want for something? I’m being selfish, somehow, somewhere. And it’s time to buckle in… or buckle up… or buckle down? Buckle something the fuck up – and GIVE more.

And, OKAY SHUDDUP FINE. I confess… This last one I do need to remind myself of more often than the others. Because sometimes, I just don’t buy it.

If you’re looking at this entry and thinking “Hey, Chloe, did a meme just throw up all over your blog?” then I’m here to tell you… Yes. Yes it did.

I decided conventional memes were boring. (Incidentally, that was code for: “The one on Kaya’s page is, like, real questions that demand real answers, I’m too sick to think that coherently, plus it includes questions I’m not allowed to answer and  that made me sulky.”) So! I decided to get a generator involved and play with pictures instead.

I rock.

Here’s what I did:

• Took the last ten people who commented on my blog, and shoved them, decidedly without their consent, into this generator.
• Answered the questions.  (I’m using the word “answered” loosely.)
• Plugged the answers into google image search.
• Plugged the first image for each answer this mosaic maker.
• And voilà!  An instant meme that is, somehow, more useless and time consuming than any other meme I have ever come across.  How do I do it?  It’s a talent, my friends, a talent.

1. lalana got turned into an animal! What animal is it?

A butterfly!

2. How did you meet dk?

This one time… In the dark and nefarious underworlds of the internet… We hung out and talked about kinky stuff. Don’t tell anyone.

3. kaya suddenly knows all your secrets. What do you have to say about that?

Dude, that figures. 

4. What would you do if vanimp and lalana were going out?

Politely request pictures.

5. If M:e were to be mistaken for a celebrity, who would it be?

I’m going with… Angelina Jolie. 

6. Will Sara eat those green eggs and ham?

With relish! She’s adventurous.

7. Describe River in five words.

Someone who reads my blog?

8. Do you trust Kari?

Sure, why not?

9. If Sunnilady and vanimp teamed up, what would they most likely accomplish?

At first, I was going to go with world domination. But then I realized their avatars are a bum and a fairy girl. So I think they’d go around goosing people in a really lithe way.

10. puppy just got vaporized in a freak accident. Now what?

Deny, deny, deny.

Clearly, I’m not tagging anyone against his or her will… Because honestly? I can’t attempt to force my depraved lunacy on anyone and maintain a clean conscience. Though I think people with the full use of their faculties and/or brain capacity should take this jumbled idea and make it into a meme that is actually fun.  Kthnx.

I’m going to go lie down for a bit.  I’m obviously ill. 

There have been discussions recently, about monogamy, polyamory, limits, etc.  I’ve followed them with interest.

Specifically, all the biological/natural arguments for polyamory.  Science and logic are fascinating disciplines. And I had a lot of monogamy “arguments” running in my head as I read the arguments for polyamory. (Which, I’d like to note, was not to say I was going to argue against polyamory – I certainly wasn’t.  I have no objection to it at all, except on a person level.  Meaning I feel it’s fine, in and of itself, but it’s simply not right for me.)  And I still have all the science arguments in my head.  But… I soon realized the bigger issue is that I don’t care about the arguments, in either direction.

I could probably make arguments that humans are bred, on an individual level, to kill much more often than humans kill now, and with no repercussions.  Perhaps, even, with rewards.  That was natural.  These laws we have are not.  (I’m not referring to the ways of war, here… I mean murder or extreme physical harm for personal infractions.)

But, again, I don’t care what humans are designed to do, not necessarily.  It has no impact on my choices if I discover it’s “natural” to do things another way if that other way feels wrong to me.

Because no matter what, I’m not going to FEEL right about taking a life, even under circumstances where it may be biologically natural to do so.  (Some situations, of course, I’m sure I have personally maintained a biological imperative to kill.  If someone tried to kill me? I’d fight for my life, even if that included ending my attacker’s life.)  But other situations? If someone stole my food?  Or someone stole all my money, my home, and killed my pets?

Even if I found the man who stole from me, and knew I’d get away with it if I hurt or killed him, I’d rather suppress the natural, biological urge to do harm.  I don’t care what thousands of years of biology “tell” me, and I don’t care how any other species of animal, or any other human, feels about it.  Don’t care.  For me, it FEELS right to not give into that urge, and to take a different path.

Is it easiest to take that other path?  Most “natural”?  Perhaps not.

But in the long run, focusing on compassion yields the greatest rewards for me, personally, emotionally, mentally, physically.  So I don’t care if it’s less natural not to seek physical vengeance on people – in those cases, my fullest life, my deepest pleasure, has come from compassion, not acting naturally.  Maybe it could be considered a sacrifice – giving up something good for something better.  This is my big picture.  I try to look at it as often as possible.

And the same thing applies to the idea of polyamory.  Sure, we can argue humans, centuries ago or currently in other cultures, lived and live a certain way.  Or that certain biologically similar animals live a certain way.  But, so what?

Someone could make a case for everything from nudism to murder, and they might be sound arguments, and I would have no objection to the logic behind them.  But no argument in the world will ever make me comfortable with many of those things.  I’m very comfortable with them for certain people, or certain situations, but not for me.

And I think that’s okay.  I don’t think it’s wrong of me or for me.

So for me, monogamy is right.  Not just okay, or tolerable, or acceptable. Right.  I desire to be in submission to a man I love.  I’ve found that man, and I love and serve him.  I have no desire for a dominant position in a relationship and no desire for a vanilla relationship – I desire to be, and am, owned.  It feels right.  I feel right.

I feel right submitting, serving, being owned – belonging to my Man.  It would defeat my purpose, my drive, my source of pleasure to try to serve two Masters.  I cannot be who I want to be – wholly his – if I served anyone else before my Master or on par with my Master.  It would be impossible to maintain the level of service I desire to provide to Antonio and, moreover, it would feel deeply wrong to serve anyone else. I would be unable to meet my deepest needs for love and life to have more than one relationship.  Period. 

So monogamy is right for me.  It may not be right for others, and that’s completely fine.  But it’s right for me.  It’s where I feel best, happiest, and right with myself and the world.

My title for this post, a phrase often associated with the argument against gay marriage, is simply my way of saying this is a two-way street for me.  I want One Man, but I also want that man to only want One Woman.  I want us to be One Woman and One Man and that’s it.  Obviously, the logical question to ask is: “Does HE feel right with just one woman?  Does he feel right being monogamous?”

I believe he does. I can’t speak for him or attempt to present his feelings.  They are not mine to fully understand or discuss.  So, from where I sit, all I can say is…  He says he does.  And I believe him.  So I believe he does.

***Side note… I’m sick, so please try to forgive typos, but I don’t have the energy to reread this more than a couple times. I‘ve been working, too, and haven’t replied properly to comments.  But I’m going to be holed up at home tomorrow, being sick and whiny and gross, so I’m going to try to  backtrack through them. But right now, I’m suffering a biological imperative to go sit on the couch and watch TV with tissues and a large mug of tea. 

I have many thoughts churning in my head, some in response to comments, and some in response to a post on another blog… But , as luck would have it, I’ve also got a headache churning in my head, and that’s making me feel far too muddled to attempt to translate the big thoughts into coherent words.  (Also, forgive typos!)

So, this’ll be short and sweet. It’s Valentine’s Day. Valentine’s Day has taken on a sort of Thanksgiving-for-love feel for me. And I am so incredibly thankful for the love in my life; I honestly don’t have the words to do it justice. But I thought I’d pick one small thing to talk about and try to do it a teeny bit of justice.

There are an infinite number of things that make me burn with love, happiness, desire, delight, and comfort when it comes to my Man.  Antonio’s laughter , and my reaction to it, is just one. 

The first time I experienced Antonio laughing, I gasped, and got a little wide-eyed. Hands down, he has the most gorgeous laugh I have ever heard. It’s indescribable, really, and I’m not the only one to notice. Everyone who knows him knows he has an amazing laugh. But I know I am more desperately in love with it than anyone else. It’s a powerful, honest, dazzling sound. It sounds like smooth gravel drizzled in honey, it feels like a drug – it is the definition of pleasure. It seems like a treasure, something precious that you’d be lucky to experience it even once.  And if that were the case, I would gladly go to the ends of the Earth to find things to make him happy enough to open his mouth and laugh. But by some added miracle, he laughs openly and often.

Just thinking about it now is making me grin like a fool (in love.)

Here is a bit of a poem I love, about laughter… I like it best in Spanish, but I’ll post the English as well.  It’s (aptly) called “Your Laughter.”

Mi lucha es dura y vuelvo

con los ojos cansados

a veces de haber visto

la tierra que no cambia,

pero al entrar tu risa

sube al cielo buscándome

y abre para mí todas

las puertas de la vida.

My struggle is harsh and I come back

with eyes tired

at times from having seen

the unchanging earth,

but when your laughter enters

it rises to the sky seeking me

and it opens for me all

the doors of life.

~Pablo Neruda

Sara said something that made me think in this post…

I have to wonder. If he thought something he wanted was hurtful to you, would he do it? I don’t mean it just hurt, but YOU were hurt, in your heart or mind? I am talking about hard personal limits. I know slaves often go back to the idea that he “would never want to hurt his property”…but is that just another way of saying he respects you, your limits? There is a huge difference between what you don’t want, and what harms. If he cares for you, as I hope he does, you are precious to him as YOU are. He recognizes you for yourself, engages with you with a posture of awareness and care that would indeed be respectful to you and your hard personal limits…I think?

At first, I was trying to think it all through. This is how that looked:

Would he do something that hurt me? The answer is yes, he would. He has hurt me before. Deeply. Deeply, but not permanently.

Sometimes, I think he hurts me to heal me. I think I’ve had a lot of (metaphorical) broken bones in my life and many of them healed wrong. Because of that, in some aspects of my life, I am bent almost double – I am hobbled and slow… And yes, it feels cruel of him to grab a hold of me and re-break the bones. And in my moments of pain and agony, I can’t see the benevolence in his acts. I sure can’t feel it. I often did not consent to the resetting of my bones, either, and I may have violently struggled to get away. But he does it anyway, he doesn’t go breaking more than one at a time, I heal eventually, and I can walk a little straighter when I’ve recovered.

He’s never once done anything to do me permanent damage, physically or emotionally. And that’s why I gave myself to him. I trust him. I have to trust him, because, yes, sometimes he’s going to have to hurt me in ways I will not want at the time, and I won’t be able to see the benefits – for him or for me. I’m going to beg and cry and plead and say I can’t and I won’t and God damn him for trying to make me.

I came to a point once where I had to imagine my life without him. I even spent a solid 30 seconds attempting to convince myself I’d be better off. Total and utter failure in that attempt, even in the face of incredible emotional pain and turmoil. I was meant to be his, and nothing can shake that belief from me.

Sometimes, I think he is simply weighing the pros and cons. He wants something from me. And he is smart enough to be able to estimate the outcome of getting what he wants. So, if he feels I would recover and remain useful and loving? Yes, I think he’d hurt me, if his need was great enough. He’d balance it out. He’s not child-like in impulse control, he’s a VERY in-control-kinda-guy. Let’s say, for argument’s sake, he had a real choking fetish. He doesn’t, but, shhhhh, we’re pretending. Maybe he WANTS to choke me for twenty minutes. By God, he’d just love to. Nothing would make him happier. Nothing, EXCEPT the prospect of me being alive the next day. So because MORE than he’d love to choke me for twenty minutes, he’d love for me to be alive in the morning, he doesn’t do it. He’s not respecting a personal hard limit of mine, he’s making his own choice based on his own desires. Sure, it works out for me in the end that he likes me better alive than dead, but is it really about me?

And that is where I got stuck…

Because it’d be insane to claim it’s NOT about my personal limits at all, right? I mean, he doesn’t stop himself from murdering me ONLY because he’d rather I be alive, right? I mean, he loves me… So, it’s clearly not NOT about me, right?

Or would it be insane to claim it IS about me? Maybe, the fact that he loves me is still HIS emotion, HIS drive, HIS meter for gauging activities and it STILL isn’t about me? I don’t know.

Maybe it’s ridiculous to try for an “either/or” situation here. I mean, can I really break it down into does he hurt-me-to-heal-me for my benefit, or for his? Does he simply want me walking straighter and faster for his sake, or mine? Does he stop himself from doing me incredible physical harm because he likes me alive, or because he is concerned for me? Is all that an oversimplification that ultimately makes no sense? Is it really more correct to say that our goals are lined up, so it’s NOT either/or, it’s a form of mutualism?

Or maybe what I’m really stuck on is the concept of limits. Because, surely, there are things I don’t WANT to do. But… If he made me do them? I’d survive. It might be a long road, but I’d survive. To say he doesn’t do something terrible because he “respects my limits” would imply he wants to cause me deep, irreversible damage and only resists because he respects my limits… And that’s just not the case for me. I didn’t get involved with a man who wants to do me deep, irreversible damage. By design, he and I agree on the core limits – things like bestiality, incest, pedophilia, necrophilia, infidelity… And he loves me. He might hurt me, or stretch me, or break me down – but I firmly believe his ultimate goal with me is not destruction, so his ultimate goal in any act would never be something horrific. I’d kind of question the sanity of someone involved in a relationship where they weren’t 100% sure their partner didn’t want to destroy them…

Maybe it all comes to the same thing. Perhaps the situation is the same, whether you are saying “He recognizes you for yourself, engages with you with a posture of awareness and care that would indeed be respectful to you and your hard personal limits” or I am saying “He weighs the pros and cons, and acts upon whichever desire is stronger for him, which, because he loves me, usually comes out in my favor in terms of being severely hurt,” or I’m going with my option of mutualism…

Maybe it doesn’t matter how we describe it, we’re just stuck looking at the moon from opposite sides and one of us is saying “It’s so DARK!” and the other is saying “What are you looking at – this thing is really BRIGHT!”

This is one of those moments I’d love Antonio to weigh in because I’m fairly sure I’ve just confused myself.

(Incidentally, when I handed this over to Antonio so he could look at it, d’you know what he thought about everything?  No?  Well, neither do I.  ‘Cause all he did was point out typos.  Bah.)

My brain has ceased working. No, seriously. I woke up this morning, and everything seemed normal… But when I went to read an email Antonio had sent, I couldn’t do it. I can’t even reread this, so, try to bear with me. I literally cannot concentrate enough to read more than a sentence or two at a time. And even then, I can’t make much sense of things.

I decided, for the reason above (and because Antonio said I am due for something a little breezier in here), to post about cookies.  This might not be what he meant, but… Well, if not, clearly it’s his own fault for going to work on his truck and a friend’s car today, and hence not being around to tell me I can’t post this.  Right?  Right.

I think I made sugar cookies when I was little. But I’ve never made them as an adult. So, the other day, I decided to remedy that. Apparently, I’m stunted to the point where I can’t actually make sugar cookies LIKE an adult, I just happen to exist in an adult body while I make them.

See, I got it in my head I needed to decorate them, so I made icing, got sprinkles and colored sugar, a palette knife, tweezers (yes, tweezers), wax paper, and probably a lot of other things my fried cranium can’t recall at the moment, and I went to work.  Er, play.  Work?  Whatever.  I’m a two-year-old.

(I also decorated a few cupcakes that were, up to that point, rather pretty in a simple, mature sort of way.)

My younger brother (23, with a formal education in art, mind you) decided to “help” me. He basically ate cookies and made a mockery of the whole process while having me watch YouTube videos on his iPhone like this.  (That insanity is a whole topic unto itself, I’m sure.) Oh, and he did make a couple cookies.  I even photographed one.  

While I go clean more of the GIANT mess I made of the dining room table, I’ll leave it to you to guess which cookie was my brother’s.

(Click for big on any of them.  And forgive the craptacular quality on some of them.  I SUCK at automatic digital cameras.)

(*whispers* This one —->) 

Kaya wrote this post today. And, as I’m practically having an affair with her blog, I became wrapped up in thinking about MY view on the situation/idea she presented.

I attempted to comment.

After over eleven hundred words, I decided I had failed.

Me and concise? We just don’t get along. (As it is, I have nearly 700 words sitting in a Word document that used to belong to this post.  I cut them with much distress.)

SO… If you want this post to make a shred of sense, I implore you to read her post first.

I am of two minds. One is concerning the idea of submission following abuse. The second is about the particular man in her post.

Submission Following Abuse

I believe a man, a good man, CAN dominate a woman who was previously abused in a manner that actually allows her to heal, and be strong and empowered.  I do.  I understand and condone a man seeking a woman he wants to dominate, and coming to love her enough, know her well enough, and being skilled enough to allow her to find a cleansed emotional experience coming from an activity similar to one she used to associate with something profoundly negative.

But, in my experience… (And, because I despise people asserting false authority… My experience is seeing a dozen different therapists to deal with my past, and a bachelor’s degree in psychology from a very respected university. These things neither make me an expert, nor someone you should even listen to at all. But, that’s what I mean by “my experience.”)

Anyway, in my experience, while people may go back and forth with the issue of a larger number of abused women turning to BDSM, the fact of the emotional matter is that it is not a simple task to take an abused woman and let her grow as a human and blossom beneath domination. (Obviously, this is if she has not already found a complete personal path to healing, as many don’t for a long while.)

So… If she has lingering issues, hang-ups, perhaps even PTSD?

Is it harder to dominate/manipulate her in general?  No.  And I’d hazard that it’s probably easier.

Is it harder to dominate her in a beneficial, honest, good way?  I believe so.

And, let me stop right here and say if you don’t think a dominant/submissive pairing should be beneficial to both partners? Well, you and I are not going to agree on this. And that’s cool; I’m just warning you that I DO think it should be a symbiotic relationship.

This Particular Guy

If he means he would like a woman who has been abused, but she feels things are resolved and she is absolved, and she’s moved to a healthy place? Okaaaaay, I guess. It still makes me uncomfortable for reasons I can’t put my finger on, but… But that’s just that’s NOT what I got out of his statement. I got that he has a two-point list which takes “sweeping generalization” to a WHOLE new level… “You need to seriously want a Dom. You were abused.”  

Uh, wow.

If I were to give him the benefit of the doubt, I’d call his stance the result of severe naiveté. (Incidentally, GREAT quality in a dominant! *rolls eyes*)

But, truthfully, it comes across as blithe more than anything else.

And that attitude about abuse survivors leads me to believe he is not looking to walk the long, and potentially very rewarding road of healing and turning her patterns into rewarding service, but is looking to walk the easier, and far more sinister road of sick and simple domination. He just didn’t seem to think his mindset should be at all mitigated by the mental and emotional intricacies of someone who was harmed – he just plugged it as number two on his list, and said “good” when he heard someone was a victim.

I don’t like the way he talked.  And not because I think the mindset of “it is totally possible to turn your abuse around, to harness your emotions and get something positive out of this while actively recovering” is wrong. It’s not! I mean, look at kaya, whose post was the impetus for mine. No, okay, sadly I don’t really “know” her, but from reading her words, and the occasional words from her Master, I firmly believe she is a shining example of this. She is success.

But the guy in that post? Well, he can continue to pretend he’s got some altruistic core (though, in reality, he doesn’t even bother trying to pretend that very hard)… But looking at his words, I call bullshit. Loud and clear, I call bullshit.

The fact that he has such black and white, simplistic thinking about it and the fact that he simply introduces this search for someone who was abused in what seems like the very beginning of a conversation worries me to no end.  I’d run, long and hard, away from ANY man who had such a view.

Many, MANY men take advantage of women and their weaknesses. They lie to sleep with them and the prey on their insecurities to keep them. (I’m not saying women are angels – they’re not. I’m not saying all men do – they don’t. I’m just talking about some guys here, kay?) Many seek power and sex and elements of submission, and they will do nasty, horrible things to get those things, and they don’t care about the emotions of the women they leave in their wake.  Come on, haven’t you all met guys like that?  I have.  I’ve watched friends, and myself, fall victim to them.

Well, this guy strikes me as someone who thinks he’s found a venue where this behavior is acceptable.  So he thinks can foster his selfish, predator nature by actively selecting (by basically asking for a show of hands) people he views as weaker, injured prey.

I mean, okay, I’m going to stop and finish with this:

What if the conversation had been this, with my substitutions in ALLCAPS (and I have held back editing the atrocious grammar… I mean “If you’re on my list there should be for two reasons” ?  WTF is that?)

Him: If you’re on my list there should be for two reasons:
Him: 1) you’re serious looking for a JOB
Him: 2) you have a history of FORCED CHILD LABOR in your past
Him: Which one is it..?
Me: both in a way
Him: Good…
Me: why is that good?
Him: I like when an EMPLOYEE has a history of FORCED CHILD LABOR.
Me: why is that?
Him: it turns her into a better WORKER..especially of she grew up to crave the sensations (not the emotions) what was done to her before.
Me: interesting
Him: and truthful..
Me: i’d like you to elaborate. Prefering PEOPLE WHO WERE FORCED INTO CHILD LABOR makes you seem a predator on broken PEOPLE. Those who haven’t healed.
Him: a predator..or perhaps makes me a BOSS who understands an EMPLOYEE who embraces the fact she has a need/urge to empower herself through something she now finds essential.

Him: replace the word FORCED CHILD LABOR by “early JOB TRAINING” and it changes the context completely.
Me: FORCED CHILD LABOR is NOT early JOB TRAINING.

Him: nonethless.. it change your WORK ETHIC completely.
Me: my WORK ETHIC was changed even before the FORCED CHILD LABOR

Him: THE BENEFITS OF A GOOD BOSS can only be shown nowadays through very distinct mechanisms

Him: THE BENEFITS OF A GOOD BOSS then can only be shown through the dynamics of guidance, discipline and punishment. Wouldn’t that be true..?
Me: no, THE BENEFITS OF A GOOD BOSS can be shown through many ways

Him: Which one of them is still inside your head when you lay at night and crave GETTING A JOB..?

Okay. Honestly.  Take a minute and think what your reaction would be if you heard this.  Are we still going to defend his views? Or would we be like “Yikes, he’s one selfish, sick puppy.” If a boss was looking for a worker, and he decided a good work ethic is best based on illegal, brutal, harmful treatment in the past? And seeks out only victims of that abuse? Are we really thinking, given the way the idea was presented, that it’s anything less than exploitation of abuse?

Are we REALLY shrugging and say, “Yeah, well, he’s not doing anything wrong! It could be a GOOD experience for the worker!” Or that “No one who was a child-laborer and isn’t over the emotional issues has any business getting a job anyway.”

Well, yeah, okay. It MIGHT be a good experience, eventually, if done right. And I think these people would be able to handle a job, if it was the right one.

I just don’t think I could change my opinion that there is a difference… A difference between: A man looking for a good worker, and either knows or discovers the employee was involved in the horrors of forced child labor, and then deals with it, and HELPS her and finds a way to make the experience work to his benefit AND aid in her healing… And a man who wanders around looking specifically for child-laborers because he thinks they universally make better employees.   It simply appears that he cares MUCH more about some fictionalized, nutty, generalized personal belief and he has not a shred of real experience.  In my head, that’s red flag for further abuse.  He’s creeeeepy.

In short (ha):

Can a formerly abused woman be a good submissive and a great servant? Can her past patterns be re-associated with positive things? Absolutely! NO ONE is a sick fuck for thinking that result is possible, good, and that in the end, the effects of abuse can even be viewed in a really good, positive light. And rock on for anyone who accomplishes that.

Is there something wrong with someone who specifically and solely seeks out an abuse victim in that cavalier, generalized, selfish manner?  Yep.  I think so.  I think he hasn’t got a clue what he’s talking about.  Avoid, avoid, avoid the guy with the giant head who clearly thinks he’s WAY awesomer and worldly than he really is.

EDITED TO ADD:  Because I absolutely, categorically, CANNOT shut up… Something I’m curious about after reading some of the comments in kaya’s blog… The comments about the chocolate ice cream, the blow-jobs, the skills acquired as a result of abuse… I don’t delude myself into think everyone will agree with me.  So, to the people who would say "yep, it IS just early job training!" – Do you think a person who was NOT abused cannot achieve the same level of skill as someone who was?  I guess if someone does think that, I can see where the "need" for an abuse survivor would come into play… But I don’t think that’s the case.  I think a pure desire to serve, not spurred by a history of abuse and associations with service/domination, can drive someone to reach the same levels of service.  I can plainly see how abuse can play into desires, just with the emotions originally backwards.  And if that’s part of healing, to reverse the emotional associations, to use the skills in a loving relationship you actually benefit from, rock on.  I don’t think that’s wrong.  I just also don’t think it’s necessary or universally beneficial, as this dominant seems to think it is…