October 22, 2001

      An article in a newspaper today spoke about relationships and how it was important to have a good self image - a good feeling about oneself to bring to a relationship.  It reminded me of when Himself began training me and His idea that until a submissive feels complete and good about his/herself, they can't offer themselves completely.  And that included body image.

     This article pointed out all the pitfalls we go through about our body image and how the media undermines our sense of self by the blatant use of young, thin and beautiful models.  All the things we've read about time and again.  But this time a solution was offered.  It was the writer's opinion that one should work at changing one's mindset in a particular way, that being as follows:  at least once per day (in front of a mirror or otherwise) the chant should be "I accept myself and my body (as they are), completely."  The writer states that it's about a forty day process, but after fifteen or so, things start to look up.  (They wrote the article a bit more elegantly.)  

     Interesting idea though.  And again, very much like the rule Himself applied to me in the beginning of 'us', when i wasn't allowed to express any negative body images i had.  For awhile it even worked.  But now i discover that i can't get into clothes i wore even 6 months ago, and He's not diligent in monitoring me, which is resulting in old behaviour patterns rearing their ugly heads.  i need those days back.

     It seems like we are always so tired these days and i know it's because it's been so hectic.  And stressful, with me going through the interviews and working and Him dashing all over the city for either work or the theatre company or finding out it's going to cost huge dollars to fix the car.  Friday night we barely made it through a few hours of social time with some friends.  And Saturday whizzed by with yet again no D/s night happening.  And i can't begin to describe how much i miss it.

     We had a good moment on Sunday morning though.  i woke up early, but after a few frustrating hours trying to unsuccessfully design a website for someone, i decided just to crawl back into bed.  Himself was deliciously warm and found great ways to share that.  One of our 'rituals' if you would call it that in this case, is that i'm to thank Him after an orgasm, however this time i forgot.  Suddenly He was slapping my breast and demanding; "Where is My thank you!"  Ack.  i very quickly supplied it - several of them in fact.  i love it when He's bossy.

     Afterward, we drifted off for a short snooze, His hand curled around my neck.  And i remember thinking to myself; "This.  This is what i miss.  The assertiveness.  The clear lines of definition of who we are in this relationship."  That's what D/s is to me.  Not the kinky sex - although that's a great bonus!  And not the scenes, no matter how much i love them.  It's the attitude ... the mindset.  The small demonstrations such as His hand on my throat that clearly shows who is the dominant.  i like feeling owned.  i don't like feeling like i own myself.    

     So where does that mindset come from?  i don't really worry about it anymore, but i'm still curious in a more detached way.  i know it's not going to go away anytime soon though.

     i was listening to the radio at work the other day, and they announced that a woman they'd interviewed several times, had died.  She had been suffering from leukemia, yet didn't treat her impending death as something to dread, but rather something to explore and understand.  i didn't know a lot about her, having only heard her final interview, but she impressed me hugely.  And when i heard that she'd died, my eyes filled with tears.  

     She just seemed so brave.  i'm sure she had her 'depressed' days too, but she fought them away, and got things done, mostly for other people.  She touched so many in such a good way.  So i guess i wasn't surprised to find myself feeling weepy for a person like that.  

     i think how she was has helped me to see that not everyone wallows in self-pity when they know they are dying.  That they don't push those who are near and dear away, but try to help them understand.  And i pray that when it's my turn, i'll be able to look beyond myself as well.  

     This woman was a good role model, a classy lady who expressed the elegance of death.  Something i would never have thought possible until now.  

     On a lighter note, Himself and i had a funny moment in the adventures of living together.  We've gotten into the nasty habit of waking up in the middle of the night, for the ritual bathroom run.  So Saturday night, i wobble sleepily down the hall and, while perched, i notice the Christmas catalogue on the floor.  i can just barely make out the picture of a house and Santa Clause with the faithful reindeer on the front cover.  

     i ponder it for a few moments.  Then weeble back down the hall and crawl into bed.  Four of the reindeer names pop into my head.  Like a chant.  i can't stop repeating them.  i try to remember the other four.  Nothing.  This goes on for at least five minutes until finally i can't stand it.  i say out loud (hoping Himself is still awake); "What are the eight reindeer names?  i only remember four ... "  And i list them off.

     Silence.  Then He says three of them.  Ahhhhh.  Now i lie there chanting the seven names.  Several minutes go by until suddenly, out loud again, i say;  "Aha!"  And let the final name roll off my tongue.

     Then we curled up tight and went back to sleep.

     So, do you remember them?  i'm not telling!

                

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