I try so hard not to be possessive of my Master – it is not very becoming for a slave. But so much is emotionally invested in pleasing him, and in being of value to him, that when it turns out someone else is doing more for him than I’d thought, I question my role. I ask myself, am I really special to him? How much else that I’d thought was exclusively my place, am I actually sharing with someone else? And that leads, very quickly, to the most terrifying question of all: could I be replaced?
Looking back over my blog for the last few years, so many changes are evident. The most obvious is that I blog far less frequently than I used to. On the face of it, you could say that I’m simply busier. But there is much more to it than that.
When I met my Master almost 5 years ago, I had recently lost a great deal of what was important to me in life. I’d had to quit work, I’d lost a relationship and a close friend, I had very little income, and almost no social life to speak of. I was doing the best I could to live the life of a dirty slut who needed no-one, but basically, I was pretty broken. Perhaps that’s why it was so easy, having met someone strong enough and forceful enough, to need him. He quickly became the centre of my world, and in doing so, made things feel so much better for me in many ways.
But a person can’t live focussed so completely on one role in life forever. Or at least, this person can’t. Needing him so much saved me – but it also made me suffer. As a masochist, I revelled in this for quite a while. But over time, it became exhausting. I needed a little more balance, or I risked losing my soul, and being of use to no-one.
So over time, a part of the reason I’ve blogged less is because the subject of this blog – submission – is not the sole focus of my existence. It is still an essential part of me – but it’s not my all. And that has also led to another change in my writing, which Master has observed and mentioned to me at times: my blog has also changed a lot, in its quality and tone. I’m not sure if this is an improvement or not, but I think it reflects an improvement in my self. All the dramas and the insecurities that were overwhelming back then are now much more bearable, and so when I write, the focus is on broader things. I’m exploring rather than obsessing on them.
But that has also caused its own share of worry sometimes. There are some moments when I wonder (and perhaps he does, too) – if not needing him to be there affirming my existence to him constantly, means I don’t care enough? Am I not devoted to him anymore, if I can spend a day without seeing him? Am I less committed, if a missed phone call doesn’t make me cry?
That’s why yesterday’s outburst, crying in the car, was in some ways reassuring. It is good to know that he can still have the effort of bringing me to tears if I doubt my place with him. It affirms that keeping my place is still so important to me. But the difference between now and then – is such moments don’t take over my mind. I don’t fret and panic and withdraw into seclusion anymore. I have enough strength in myself, to reach out and let him know I am feeling insecure – and to accept and trust his assurance that there is no need. I’m finding a kind of peace.
