I have lived most of my life in fear. It's the defining emotion and motivator of my nearly 3 decades on this planet. And it's been closely tied to love for most of that time.
Growing up, the love my parents presented was from themselves and from their religion. Both loves were tied to fear. Both loves were called unconditional, but were described with conditions. I was always terrified of fucking up, terrified of not deserving the love, of losing it. And I was right to be. SO many parts of me, from my queerness, my inquisitiveness, my competitiveness, weren't "right", needed to be eradicated, so that I could be loved. So I did it. I was taught early on, if I was messed up and not deserving of the love I wanted, it was up to me to remove the offending aspects of myself, regardless of how much it hurt to do so. I ended up fractured, scattered.
My ex brought a new version of fear and love. I spent years thinking I needed to help him, to fix him. I somehow thought it was possible. If I failed, he would get angry, and say horrible things. If I failed, he would threaten me and try to hurt me, or even kill me. If I failed, he would kill himself. If I failed, none of that mattered, anyway, because a failure doesn't deserve to be loved, so why keep living? Again, fear and love, tied together so tightly I have to force myself not to type inextricably linked. Because I can't believe it's inextricable.
With you, the fear is there. There's fear of loss, of pain. And much of it is warranted. I've been hurt, by others, by you. And to love is to risk almost unbearable pain. But I'm becoming aware of how detrimental this fear is. How much it limits me. How sneakily it works to push you away. My jealousy is mostly insecurity, but it often plays out as emotional self-harm. I push you, damage us, to ensure that any pain I suffer is of my own making. I'm desperate to not be rejected. I want to feel like I'm controlling it. But I can't.
In some ways, staying with you, fighting for our relationship, is the biggest act of submission possible for me. It's imperfect, and sometimes I still fight for control. But ultimately, I'm giving you the ability to hurt me. I'm working hard not to try to take over for the false sense of security it brings. I want to trust you with my everything. Little by little, I want to give you my fear. In some ways these bizarre emotional outbursts are just that. With my family, my faith, my ex, I never expressed this fear. Not once. Because to be aware of the fear made me feel automatically unworthy of the love. You fucking terrify me. And every time I tell you that, every time I scream it in your face, know that what I'm actually doing is trusting you with the idea that sometimes I don't feel worthy of being loved. I'm trusting you to show me again that I'm wrong. I love you so very much. Fear is a weird gift for someone you love, but that's what I'm giving you.
Wednesday, September 23, 2015
Monday, September 21, 2015
I thought I wasn't handling this well...
I was feeling guilty for dropping this on you this morning. I was going to write an apology. But then I re-read my last three posts. And I realized, I've been feeling uncomfortable with this girl since you first mentioned her to me. And so far, you really haven't done anything to help me with that.
Sure, I've had realizations that have helped me. But you haven't been helpful. You haven't actively sought to build my trust with this. You mention her to me, I have trust issues and freak out, I resolve it. And again this week- you mention her to me, I have trust issues and freak out, and instead of resolving it on my own, I decided to ask for help. I'm sorry that the asking for help resulted in an unexpected emotional outburst. But quite frankly, you've done nothing to help me feel better about you and this girl since this happened the last time. I know you're busy. I know you have other things going on. But if you want me to trust you, you have to put in the work. I've told you exactly what I need from you. And this is the first time you might actually have virtually met someone you could see something happening with. So why do you think you can drop this information on me casually, not offering the information I've asked for (and you agreed to) to help me cope, and expect me to cope well?
I don't know how else to do this. I don't know what else you want. I want to get to a place where I can glow with compersion, where I can be happy you're getting what you need. And I know I can get to that place, because I've been there before. A few days before the trust that was necessary for that to happen was smashed. I'm trying to do what I can to tell you what's going on with me. I'm trying to give you ideas on what I need from you to rebuild this. I can't rebuild alone. You don't get trust and submission without earning it. I've given you opportunities. I've told you when I'm uncomfortable and why. Yet somehow this same situation with the same girl happened twice in the space of a month. And you did the exact same things. And I refuse to feel guilty for having the exact same reaction.
I definitely understand why you like this girl. She's sweet, cute, attractive. But I needed that information before you exchanged numbers and talked fantasies and relationship expectations. Or right when it happened. I don't like that she doesn't want you talking about your other partners with her, to me that screams denial. I don't like that you talked about pushing a hard limit with her. I don't like that I'm pretty sure she'd be uncomfortable with the fact that I read those messages and saw those photos when she doesn't want to know I exist. Honestly, if you can't tell the other people you're talking to that you've agreed to let me read your conversations, check out their profiles, or potentially even contact them myself, I don't think you should be talking to them. I don't think you thought about your conversations with her in light of the agreements you made with me, and that's very troubling.
I love you. So very much. But I need you to pay a little more attention to what you're doing.
Friday, September 11, 2015
Jumbled
Good evening! I love you. I'm a little tipsy, so I'm not as eloquent as always. But here's what I've been thinking about.
I'm really struggling with you leaving. Let me start by saying I know you're doing nothing wrong. You told me about this from the beginning, and I loved you anyway. You don't need to change anything. But this really hurts. Sometimes I feel like you're abandoning me. I keep thinking about how this might be the last time in a long time that I feel like my whole self is in one place. And it hurts. I would never ask you to stay. Your life is there now. But god, I wish you could stay.
I'm really scared about what happens next. Not right away. But eventually. I'm going to have to make some big decisions. And whatever I pick, I'm going to deal with some major losses. And I'm scared.
This grief is bringing up some feelings about when you cheated. I guess it makes sense. The biggest fear now, just like then, was that I was missing out. The part of me that's scared of being abandoned is remembering when you gave away pleasure you had promised me. Not my pleasure. Yours. But you said I could have it. It still hurts sometimes. I still want it, even though it's gone.
And that brings me to my final point. I know I said I'd love you even if we weren't kinky. And I will. But I miss it. I really fucking miss being yours. And the thing is, I'm still yours. I'm just waiting for you to figure out how to take me. You've consistently sought submission while shying away from responsibility. Sometimes I think you chose to take other people's submission before mine because you'd feel less guilty about not providing for them. But that's not an option with me. So whenever you figure out how to be my Sir, I'm here. I'm waiting. You can take me. You don't have to ask. But you better be sure you can handle it. I used to ask you what I could expect from you. Now I know what I expect, at least a little. I believe you are going to be able to give it to me. Until then, I'll wait. I love you. I really, really do.
I'm really struggling with you leaving. Let me start by saying I know you're doing nothing wrong. You told me about this from the beginning, and I loved you anyway. You don't need to change anything. But this really hurts. Sometimes I feel like you're abandoning me. I keep thinking about how this might be the last time in a long time that I feel like my whole self is in one place. And it hurts. I would never ask you to stay. Your life is there now. But god, I wish you could stay.
I'm really scared about what happens next. Not right away. But eventually. I'm going to have to make some big decisions. And whatever I pick, I'm going to deal with some major losses. And I'm scared.
This grief is bringing up some feelings about when you cheated. I guess it makes sense. The biggest fear now, just like then, was that I was missing out. The part of me that's scared of being abandoned is remembering when you gave away pleasure you had promised me. Not my pleasure. Yours. But you said I could have it. It still hurts sometimes. I still want it, even though it's gone.
And that brings me to my final point. I know I said I'd love you even if we weren't kinky. And I will. But I miss it. I really fucking miss being yours. And the thing is, I'm still yours. I'm just waiting for you to figure out how to take me. You've consistently sought submission while shying away from responsibility. Sometimes I think you chose to take other people's submission before mine because you'd feel less guilty about not providing for them. But that's not an option with me. So whenever you figure out how to be my Sir, I'm here. I'm waiting. You can take me. You don't have to ask. But you better be sure you can handle it. I used to ask you what I could expect from you. Now I know what I expect, at least a little. I believe you are going to be able to give it to me. Until then, I'll wait. I love you. I really, really do.
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