This is a picture from my best friend’s wedding. She was married for the first time in December; a Christmas wedding. I was one of her bridesmaids (that is her sister shown, I’m standing further to the left.) It was a beautiful ceremony and reception, both held at the church she’s attended all her life and where she met her husband. It happens to be the church where we both also attended Girl Scout meetings for many years, and so even though I’m not Christian, it holds fond memories for me. It was bittersweet in many ways because I only recently moved back “home” after 20 years in another state, my father and her mother have since passed away (our families were very close friends), and the city has changed and modernized, yet is still very much as I remember it. Of course, she and her husband are so much in love that it renders me speechless and teary when I really stop to think about it, because everyone who knows my friend had basically given up hope she would meet the love of her life. It’s so wonderful to see her happier than I imagined she could be, and I wish them a long life of love and happiness. Which brings me, finally, to my point.

I’ve been thinking about my friend and watching her blossom in love the past year or so. As many of you know, I’ve not had the happiest marriage or relationship with my husband. I had doubts until I met him, that I would ever marry or have a child. Even as a young person I liked being alone or with my immediate family, never caring to socialize or date very much. It was always a huge effort to go out with guys and I never cared for parties, the bar or club scene, or meeting new people. I met my husband through a mutual friend and we seemed to hit it off immediately. But even going back to my early teens, I wrote poetry about not thinking I was lovable, or capable of giving love. That I was a prickly person and didn’t care for hugs, kisses etc. To be honest, I never have and still don’t!  I’m still happiest by myself.

Seeing my friend so happy and thinking about her being married now after living alone for most of her life has made me realize that maybe, just maybe, the reason I’m such a terrible submissive, why I can’t relinquish control, is because I basically hate myself and always have! I was born with an eye condition requiring three surgeries to correct; and even afterward, my eyes didn’t appear normal. I developed early and have always had large breasts which I hate. The rest of my body is normal sized, but because I’m so large on top, I always need a bigger size and thus appear heavier than I am. When I was in high school, I contemplated suicide and even cut myself for a period of time. I’ve always been filled with self-doubt and unable to readily, easily make a decision. I thought perhaps D/s would be an answer. That being able to give up my self-control to another (the man I’ve lived with and struggled with for so long) would open our relationship in a new, exciting and wonderful way.

Some of what we tried was new and exciting. I found I did enjoy being controlled sexually and learning new kinky things in the bedroom. I learned that pain is very liberating. However, I just can’t be all he desires of me and maybe I never have been and never will. I know he loves me and I love him. But I found the bonds of control even more confining than loneliness is. I did not feel liberated nor secure in submission. I chafed at everything he demanded or even asked. If anyone has any further insight, I am open to hear it.