Submission, Slavery, and Other Ramblings

After my whole little identity crisis a while back, I did what any codependent normal woman would do--I asked Alpha what I am.
See, I get one question after sex. Not having asked any for a while, I tried to claim that I had some banked up but he said I didn't get roll-over minutes lol.
His response was exactly what I thought it would be (with a couple of added bonuses). He said "Mine. You are a glorious amazing creature. And you are mine."

I think that submission is often about choosing to submit. Slavery is...No longer making that choice quite as often perhaps? Which, in theory, would make it a bit simpler...Though I do have every confidence in my ability to make anything complicated.
Every submissive becomes at least a little bit enslaved, every slave submits. So the lines are perhaps not extremely clear. Nor are they necessarily incredibly important except for assisting in personal definitions I suppose.

I see myself as property. I have rights--I accept the rights I am given. Not always gracefully, but I do accept them.
There are aspects of my life that he displays no interest in controlling. He governs other areas with an iron fist. And I have learned to accept that I don't choose those areas--to do so would not be submitting. That acceptance however, doesn't mean that I don't ever struggle with it (I think my last post highlights that quite blindingly lol).

I don't have my own limits (no need for the whole "what if he decides to cut off your leg?!" spiel), I have his limits. Chopping off limbs is among them, just in case anyone wanted to push the issue lol.

We often are, or become, what we see ourselves to be. Sometimes we become what others see us to be because we allow their image of us to overshadow our own.

Alpha used to tell me that I existed to be his slave. And that bothered me a lot. Because surely, there should be more meaning to my existence? But I think that I was looking at it through an excessively small window of view.
One single purpose does not negate all others.

He used to tell me that I was his slave. I would gasp and backpedal and deny it until I was blue in the face.
But that was before I realized that, for me, the foundation of D/s lies in his definitions of it. Within his definition of what I am.

If he says that I am his submissive, I am. If he says that I am his slave, I am.
Ultimately, what matters most is that, in both forms of speech, I am His. And we both know it.