Yesterday started out well enough. I was actually having a marvelously wonderful "good girl" day yesterday.
I remembered my rules. There aren't many but all address challenging things for me (bad habits, lifestyle changes, etc). I was very conscious of my nail-chewing habit and hardly did it at all, all day at work. I did a little in the evening, but that was it. I counted all my points and planned healthy snacks and meals (weight watchers points). I took my yoga break. Those three, alone, definitely made for a good girl day.
And then - I got home.
I had the best of intentions. I was excited about making a yummy (but still low-fat) dinner for Syr. I had the unfortunate luck, however, to have started my period at a VERY inconvenient time and had to figure out getting bathed AND getting dinner started, so that Syr wouldn't have to wait too long for Her meal.
We had a miscommunication, though, in that Syr was wanting a bath but was going to wait until I had mine, and I had to have mine first for the aforementioned reason, but what I didn't know was that Syr was actually quite sore from work. She didn't just want a bath, it was something She was going to need, and She delayed Hers so that I could have mine - but when I got home, I was doing some futzing. I was trying to get some help from one of the boys to get dinner started so I could take my bath without delaying dinner, thinking of Syr's hunger. But in the delaying, I ended up frustrating Syr who, 20 minutes of futzing later, realized She could have had Her bath instead of waiting for me.
So we had a fight. It wasn't a big one, really. It was a lot of miscommunication from two PMS-ing females. ;) We are cycling together lately, which is both good - and bad. So it wasn't anything earth shattering, but I had a moment.
A bad moment.
She said something to me, that I didn't like, and walked away. It wasn't anything cruel, merely dismissive and frustrated. And I didn't like it. And I wanted Her to know it. I was angry and hurt.
So I slammed the bathroom door as hard as I could. And as the door shut in its frame, the heel of my hand went INTO the soft (cheap) veneer of the hollow door. *yelps*
I put a HOLE in one side of our bathroom door with my one act of defiance. I looked at it and quickly hopped in my super-shallow bath, and just started sobbing. I was angry and upset and hurt and my emotions were NOT appropriate to the situation. There was no call for me to be that freaked out, but I think what was hurting/upsetting me the most was knowing I'd just done something REALLY bad, and on a day I was trying to be so GOOD.
I'd lost my temper and I didn't even know how I was going to tell Syr what happened. But I didn't have to. She came into the bathroom a few minutes later... and saw it Herself.
We talked out what happened, with regard to the argument itself, and to Her credit, She stayed quite calm the whole time. We resolved the actual disagreement without too much fuss. Syr had Her bath while I cooked dinner...
I just couldn't shake the awful feeling that I was (am) just a terrible slave, terrible submissive, that I should never have lost my temper or acted out that way. I felt... feel... awful.
I know Syr was disappointed, really disappointed. That part really sucked. I spiralled, because I felt like my focus had been so good all day, I'd been focusing on Her, trying to be a good girl, follow my rules and in one moment I went from "good girl" status to "bad girl" status.
And if there's one thing that makes me feel awful, it's being a bad girl. I mean, we're not talking even just from a D/s standpoint. My whole life it was ALL ABOUT being the good girl, the one who followed the rules, behaved, didn't lie or sneak out of the house. Those few occasions that I broke the rules as a teenager, I was consumed with stress or guilt. I just far prefer to be the good girl.
How do I reconcile that with real emotion and real human fallacy? Humans make mistakes, we screw up, we lose our temper.
Syr told me lately that I am no longer allowed to have displays of anger/frustration. No throwing things or slamming doors or shouting. She asked me to explore why I reacted that way and what I was thinking at the time it happened.
It's hard to describe what I was thinking/feeling at the moment I slammed the door, or at any moment I shout or lose my temper. I know that I feel rebellious and angry and frustrated and most of all I feel like I'm being picked on. It's not logical - most of the time, Syr is just being angry or frustrated, but She rarely raises Her voice. She doesn't attack, even in anger. The worst thing She's ever done is walk away, shut down, etc. But when She doesn't respond the way I want Her to or when She doesn't say what I want Her to say... how I want Her to say it, when we're fighting or even when I'm apologizing, I feel like She's being *mean*.
Writing it out, now, two things become very very obvious.
1. These responses in me are very childish, almost regressively so. And I'll be honest, when in that headspace all I want to do is stomp my feet and bang my fists against the mattress and bawl my eyes out.
2. This is really the key now isn't it? "But when She doesn't respond the way I want Her to or when She doesn't say what I want Her to say... how I want Her to say it, when we're fighting or even when I'm apologizing, I feel like She's being *mean*" Exactly. I want. I expect. I control. *sigh*
In the end, my instinctive desire is for Her to respond to me in ways I expect and understand, not to be unpredictable. I want Her to "see it my way" and when She doesn't, I lose my temper or get really really wounded and feel like I'm being picked on. It's not rational, and it's definitely bred from my need to control/manipulate situations so that I am not caught off guard.
Thinking about it from this angle really helps me put it in it's place. My whole life until I was out on my own (and actually for much after that) was about everyone else having the control and their issues, their "stuff" tripping me up at every turn. Nothing was predictable. My life was a ticking time bomb. I was waiting for one family member or another or a partner to blow up, all the time. And when that happened, it was hurtful and traumatic - every time.
Living like that instills a certain fear in you. You keep waiting for the bomb to go off, and so even the mildest ticking, even the meaningless sort, sends you into panic that doesn't even seem appropriate for the situation.
And I think that's a huge key to my big upsets/freak-outs when there is tension between Syr and I. Anytime She gets upset with me, it's like I hear the ticking. She's NEVER been a bomb-force in my life like that. Not ever. She's always been stable and safe and loving and healthy for me. So the fear is unfounded. But even still, if She shuts down or gets angry, I have fear as if She is a bomb like the people in my past were.
It makes much sense now. The key is, deprogramming that fear - so that I can learn to trust and know that it's not ticking at all, but something completely different, and it isn't a sign that something bigger is or might happen. I need to learn to be in the moment.
And once again, it all cycles back to trust, and to surrender. Surrendering to the moment, trusting Her at face value when we have disagreements. Most of all, I need to work on relinquishing my need to try to affect the outcome. All I can do is be real, be honest, really listen, and most of all NOT panic.
And so there are a lot of lessons to take away from this.
This is the first time in a long time that I have desperately wished for punishment, real punishment, awful punishment - something severe and terrible. Atonement.
That is not something I'm familiar with. Yes I am grateful for punishment, always, because it helps me to have boundaries, and it makes me feel loved and secure to feel the containment that punishment offers. But I am not used to craving it for atonement, for forgiveness that's earned not just given to make me feel better.
I know that no matter what, it is a lesson in trust to accept whatever Syr decides to do about this. If She chooses to punish, then acceptance of that is a lesson to be learned. If She chooses not to punish, that is something I need to accept too because I know She knows what is best for me.
Whether there is punishment or not, I do desperately need Her forgiveness.
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