I am not a Domme

Good morning, Sir.

I learned a hard lesson today. I am not a Domme. At least not right now. I'm still a switch. I'm still interested in topping. But I don't know how to be a Domme, and I'm not sure I want to.

I had a sub, Sir. She made me want to be a Domme, for a little while. She sparked that in me. But today, she also helped me realize that isn't who I am. At least not yet. I don't know how to build trust. I don't know how to lead, to accept control. I'm not a Domme.

I hope she and I can stay friends. I still hope to top her one day. But I don't have Domme in me right now. It hurts, but I'm working through it.

I love you, Sir. I love being your slave. I love learning about your twisted fantasies. I love accepting them, exploring them, seeing if they latch on and grow in me. I'm learning to let go, and not want to be your everything. Or at least not expect to be.

I hold myself to much too high of a standard. I no longer fear mistakes, but failure still hurts. I know I'm not perfect at everything. But dammit, I want to be able to do all of it imperfectly! My silly brain doesn't like to admit when it finds a limit. It would much rather run full speed ahead off the cliff than just admit I can't fly and keep my feet on the ground. But limits are as natural as gravity. And I have them, Sir.

I love you, Sir. Thank you for seeing my limits often more clearly than I do.

I Am Exhausted

Good evening, Sir.

I am exhausted. Yesterday, and the weeks leading up to it, have been so draining. I have so little left. But I am yours.

The echoes of worthlessness, selfishness, stupidity resound in my whole self. I do not feel that way, but I remember the feeling so vividly, I react as though it was real. It was real. My reality was so dark, so very small, for so long. I continued to function, going about my day, fulfilling my responsibilities, giving until there was nothing left. I was lost, barely existing.

I know I have changed, though I don't really know how. If you asked me, I couldn't tell you who I was then. I was incomplete, fractured beyond recognition. I only know I have changed because where there was nothing, there is now something. I barely know myself, but I know I'm there to be known.

Today I feel empty. Emotions, actions, thoughts, flitting through me, rather than coming from me, like a breeze through an open window. I am comfortable with the hollowness. The echoes have quieted and I'm at peace. But sometimes the tears come up unexpected. I don't feel like I'm crying. The heat in my face and tension in my throat register before I even notice the tears. The thought, the memory that prompted them has already floated on, and I have no explanation for my emotion.

I am broken, empty, but I am yours, Sir. Your acceptance of my fractured self has helped me heal like nothing else I've ever experienced.

I love you, Sir.

Sir

Good morning.

I've spent a little time now choosing, rather than feeling obligated, to serve. The one thing that I'm not really ready to reintroduce right this moment is calling you Sir. It may just be a word, but to me it signifies deference. I'm not able to automatically defer to you right now. I still serve. I still love you. But I need to think for myself, do for myself. And sometimes that looks like loving and nurturing and helping you. Because I love you. And that's how I show it.

I do miss calling you Sir. But right now I need to own myself, own my own shit.

I love you.

Goodmorning, Sir

Goodmorning, Sir. This is the first journal entry. I will be chronicling my experience of our exploration of a Master/slave relationship. For anyone else reading, this experiment is entirely consensual, and follows months of friendship, romantic relationship, and Dom/sub sexual exploits. This is our relationship, and will follow what rules we as a couple, and Sir as my Master decide. As Sir so beautifully stated the other day, this can be whatever we want it to be. It does not need to fit some mold created by others of what our relationship should look like.

I'm still learning what kind of things I should be journaling about. I know I often struggle with not being aware of my emotions until they are problematic. I'm trying to learn more self-awareness and communication. I'm sure these changes to us will provoke some interesting reactions in me.

Last night I woke in the middle of the night feeling very anxious. I was, and continue to be, unable to identify the cause of my anxiety. I've loved serving Sir this weekend, but I wonder how that will change as I go back to work, and the novelty of seeing him starts to wear off.

There are two main fears and concerns I've been able to identify. One is that I will lose myself into this relationship. While I know I've taken steps to prevent this, it will likely remain a fear for a long time. I want to ensure that my own self is still acknowledged. The other is tied to this- I'm worried I will grow resentful. I love Sir, and know he is worth my service, but I can be selfish. I don't always trust that he is looking out for me, even though I know he's never shown himself to be untrustworthy. The way to prevent both of these is to continue to identify and voice my reactions to our power exchange, without the expectation that they will change the relationship, but simply in order to deal with them together in as healthy a way as possible.

In my few months exploring the world and population of BDSM, I've managed to determine what I do not want. I do not want to submit to find worth. I do not want to engage in empty performance. I do not want to lose the genuine and real connection I have with Sir. I am working on a meditation of sorts to prepare my mind in the mornings.

This is a new day.
Today I choose to serve Sir.
I choose to serve out of love for Sir.
I choose to serve not to find or increase my worth, but because Sir is worthy of my service, and I am worthy of his love.
I serve not because I am less, but because through service I become more.
I serve not because I am weak, but because through service I become stronger.
I serve because I love.

It's not perfect. Just a rough draft. But I hope you can see what I'm getting at.