Confession, Absolution, and Truth

If you are a deeply religious person and arrived here by some perverse act of Google, this is not what you were looking for (just in case the adult blog warning didn't cue you in).

I can count the number of times I have been in church on one hand. I used to have dreams about being burnt alive in them, and just really never developed a desire to be there. It's a mystery. Lol.
As a child, my fathers church was his garden, and somehow things turned out very much the same for me--the mountains became my version of God. I came to believe that God isn't about the name we give him/her, but about the intent with which we address our prayers.

The place between Alpha and I where there is nothing else in the world is our church. It is where we grieve, celebrate, attempt to better ourselves, confess our sins, and wash away everything that is impure.

I don't believe f going to confession and being absolved of my sins--I kind of tend to think that if you were an asshole yesterday, you're still going to be one tomorrow and it's not going to change a whole lot just because you confessed your sins.

There was a time when I kept secrets from Alpha. Big secrets, little secrets, it didn't matter--they were mine, and I used them to carefully construct a very large wall between us.

We had been at ttwd for a going on two years when I finally couldn't do it any more. I hadn't created new secrets, and he knew almost everything, but there were things he still wasn't aware of.
I was eight months pregnant with our second son, and I knew my few little secrets were the last pieces of the wall between us.
For me, childbirth was a bit like walking that very fine line between life and death. That line where, in the end, one must make a choice which side they will land on. And I couldn't do it again with my little wall between us.

I we sat outside and I told him every little thing I could think of that I had done wrong or lied about. I thought he was going to be livid. My hormones were out to get me and I just knew he was never going to love me again.
He asked me one question. Held me, and never mentioned that night again.

And I realized not only that I loved him beyond my wildest fantasies of love, but that he loved me in ways I had never even fathomed before.
I mean, how amazing is a man who does that?

Things changed markedly. There was no longer any real barrier between us, and since then, I have gone by the creed "If you can't admit it to Alpha, don't do it."

Sometimes we let little white lies build, sometimes we keep bigger untruths to ourselves. And ultimately, those things fill the space between us, growing into larger barriers that keep us apart.
Looking back, I think that giving Alpha my truth was one of the biggest steps I ever took in submission.
It gave us a clean slate, a place where there was nothing from the outside left between us. Where the purity of our love could conquer all that came before.

I confess to him, he gives me absolution or points out that there are things from which no one is absolved.

And we live our truth together.