So my little personal revelation the other day was...Not so little. I have issues lol (imagine that). And I spent years pretending I didn't. Yea, that doesn't work.
I have always felt like the "warning possible triggers ahead" disclaimer was, oh I dunno, excessively dramatic. So ummm, there's my version of "read at your own risk." I don't personally feel that the way it came out is disturbing, but there you have it lol. As usual, my writing is more about emotion and thought than the physical.
This is not a topic I have really chosen to highlight in my blog. Perhaps because I don't really like to put much thought to it. But I think that perhaps it is time to pull it back out and reexamine things because I feel like there's a shift in an area that I thought I had pretty wrapped up with a neat little bow.
The problem with storing shit in the closet, is that it is always in your home. I guess it's time to clean house some more.
When I was a kid we had these neighbors. They were about a couple decades older than my parents. She was a former school teacher and offered to take over my schooling. I think I was seven. I would also occasionally bathe there because of our water situation.
From then until I was 14 her husband screwed with me in various ways. Mostly mental. He spent seven years doing an amazingly nasty number on my head. Among other things, he taught me what talking dirty was. It's only been over the last years that talking dirty didn't evoke a horrible sense of filth within me (which explains why Alpha froze in shock the first time we were in bed and I begged him to call me his slut).
Lol, even now I have an aversion to actually speaking that way myself.
That was when I learned my disdain for people who know about bad things happening and do nothing. I was the last in a 35 year long train of girls. I got off lucky I guess--he was too afraid of my father to add me to his trophy pictures.
I also learned how one can feel dirty from the inside out.
When I was 14 my friends older brother had "something to show" me out back. Yea, he did. He showed me that it is possible to disconnect one's mind from their body. A few times as I recall.
It stopped when Alpha and I got together. He still frowns when the topic comes up and he is reminded that I didn't tell him the whole story then.
It's a painful mix, the feeling crawling under your skin and chewing on your mind, combined with walking away from your body.
I don't think I was "home" for many years of Alpha and I's mostly non-existent sex life.
To this day, men in control or in charge tend to make me nervous. Especially when they are bigger than me.
Oh the irony in that one--that which attracts me most also makes me want to turn and run.
Things changed when we began exploring ttwd. For a very long time I had felt...I don't know how to explain it besides that feeling where you really need a shower, but on the inside. And you scrub and scrub but you just cannot become...Clean.
That changed. I no longer thought about my past every day. I felt like with each step we took down this new path, a layer of crud was being stripped off.
I don't usually think about it very often anymore.
Until last night when I was standing in the kitchen and realized that I don't allow myself to feel sexual desire largely because I feel that it is wrong and dangerous for me to do so. And for the first time in my life, I consciously thought "it's okay to feel this way."
Call me a slow learner if you want, because it's something Alpha has been telling me for over a decade. But for some reason I never actually felt it until I was able to say it to myself.
My disloyalty to Alpha earlier in our relationship kind of contributed to the way I repress anything related to desire. It gave me a layer of self-created crud that I sometimes wonder if I'll ever completely get rid of.
We weren't D/s then, but after we went down this path, I often wished he would have punished me for it, and I do occasionally wonder why he never did. Perhaps the emotional mess of our life at the time was enough punishment for both of us.
Though the more control he takes, the more it fades.
We were talking a while back and he said that I didn't have to worry about it anymore--because the decisions regarding my body are his to make now. He told me that all I had to do was put his desires before those of anyone else, and that he would place the needs of our children and myself before his desires.
Fair enough right.
Yea, I flopped into pure doubt there and asked what happened if he couldn't control what I let out. He smiled and said that he had is doubts about the possibility, but if he couldn't, he would just shove it back in the box.
I don't think that I really believed he could control that aspect of me until last night. When I told myself it was okay.
Ooh, okay, so letting go is about trust. I suddenly get that--Just because I trust him implicitly doesn't mean I trusted his ability to control whatever I let out. I love it when concepts click.
I debated turning off comments on this post because...Well because over all I was lucky. I got off pretty easy all things considered. And I am most definitely not looking for sympathy. I'm looking to let go of some things that I have held onto for a very long time.
And while my past is part of who I am today, it does not define my present or my future.
For a very long time I felt like I was poison. You know, the kind that looks benign on the outside, but a touch, makes you whither up and die?
Now I'm thinking...Maybe I'm not.