Realities

Today is a great day for me to write about fantasy versus reality.

It took me a very long time to figure out that there was a difference between the lifestyle I actually wanted and the lifestyle I created in my head, mostly when I was horny.

I've always thought that I wanted a life improved by rules and structure and enforced by a man with a good swing.

And I do...

...to a point.

Rules and structure and the enforcement of said constructs make me feel cared for and safe. They let me know that there is someone there to call me on my bullshit and it's not okay to allow myself to be slothful and slovenly.

But I used to believe that I wanted long, detailed lists of rules which would be enforced swiftly and to the letter. I wanted that freedom to fuck up taken away. I wanted to be compelled in all things.

It makes for really good masturbatory material, but not a very pleasant reality.

... Sir.

'Cause I'm a big girl, and I like my freedom. I need room to grow on my terms.

I need gentle reminders that it's bedtime, and I'm going to be very tired in the morning. I need to have permission denied to have that brownie, because it's contrary to my goals and it'll make me very unhappy when it's time to weigh in. I need to be tisked at because I'm being whiney and not remembering my place in a dynamic that is mutually fulfilling for two adults.

I need and want these things because they make me happy. They make me feel secure.

But I don't need a Daddy and I don't need constant discipline. It took me a really long time to figure out that I was looking for security that rules and the enforcement of said rules artificially produced.

But I don't want artficial security. I want real security that comes from a relationship built on love and trust and equality.

Yup. I want to be equal. Being a sub, and maybe even some day being a slave (yup, I'm leaving the possibility open, Captain No Fun), doesn't mean that I am the lesser partner in the relationship. Not in my reality. It's really just a division of labor, when ya come down to the nuts and bolts of it.

I'm not submissive to give my choices away. I'm submissive because I choose to give my trust away. To be influenced and shaped by a will that is stronger than mine, but doesn't make me weaker.

I have a Dominant in my life who believes in the power of positive reinforcement over punishment, and though at first, this caused a small bit of dispair in my masochistic heart, once reality set in, I realised how well I actually respond to it.

I don't need to be punished. Life does a pretty good job of handing out natural consequences on its own.

But, by God, bring on the funishment. That's where this lifestyle is really lived for me.

That sweet spot where reality meets fanatasy and makes me smile all over my face.