Emotional Safeword.

One of the toughest things to do is to have a communication style that works for all humans in a relationship. The best you can hope for, usually, is that all parties involved remain in a compassionate mindset and keep striving to do their best to meet the other as close to the middle as possible. A power-exchange dynamic can torque this flow, sometimes, with the person on the submissive side of the / taking it upon themselves to walk a little further past parity in order to facilitate communication that best suits the dominant person. And, in some cases, this works well, since submissive types can glean a sense of pride from placing this into the modality of a service they are providing.

I’m well-practised on sharing my inner workings fairly quickly and venting when pressure is building up. This is, perforce, a vital weapon in my arsenal against freakouts because if I do NOT vent as close to real-time as possible, I’ll Krakatoa later and the resultant damage is vastly more difficult to maintain…and my recovery time-frame feels glacial. My beloved Spousemeister, while he has worked and continues to work hard at sharing, is recovering from a lifetime of feeling punished for sharing his inner workings, so he’s slower to reveal. And, when he does, his recovery time is quite rapid. My desire to be as perfect a submissive for him as it can be often pushes me to attempt emotional processes and recovery times that work effectively for him, but can drain my reserves and strain my ability to recover.

One of the things I always champion is the “Prime Directive,” and sometimes this is not bloody easy. There are times you want to serve, to be amenable, to be the good slave or submissive, but the cost is feeling as though you failed by tapping out.  The other day, despite feeling emotionally overrun, despite having to ferry us to several Doctors appointments, despite feeling heavy with the weight of a dark day in US history, and despite hormonal rampages courtesy of my reproductive system, my Spousemeister really REALLY really needed to talk about some issues connected with some upcoming kink and sex events. You should know, this shit stresses me the fuck out. Parties and orgies and gangbangs (oh my!) are not my cuppa. I could absolutely live without them…but he is most delighted by these things so I, as the connected one, am tasked with organising them.  This is not a task I especially relish, but I do my best because, hey, ain’t nothing wrong with a little bump and grind…I’d just prefer, on any given night, to curl up with my Spousemeister! He’s still feeling like he has “catching up” to do, and so I try to make things happen. However, they are a source of no small anxiety for me for a score of reasons I work to overcome.

But yesterday just wasn’t the day to discuss them, and I tried my best to communicate this without seeming judgmental, bitchy or disrespectful. My sharing this wasn’t enough, in this moment, to quell his burning desire to have a detailed discussion about upcoming events, how they’d go, what and who we may or may not do, and how.

In hindsight, I wish I’d safeworded on the conversation. I wish I’d been strong enough to clearly assert my feeling that this was not going to be a very productive time or place for us to have this talk. instead, after several reiterations of my previous check-in, I sucked it up and hours later, felt drained, miserable, and as though I was a failure.

This morning, the feeling weighed so heavily, I couldn’t do the whole “get out of bed and start the day” rituals. Morning stretched into afternoon and, after the second attempt to get me going, my owner asked if my sadness was a byproduct of the tough talks of the evening before. Ye, they were, and furthermore the difficulty of feeling as though my signals that this was a rough time for me to engage in these tough talks felt as though they were not important. Critically, he apologised for pushing, and for not being more sensitive to my (di)stress.

We are still, as always, working on the rough spots.

I am, as always, still figuring out how to apply the Prime Directive and not feel as though I am failing by doing so.

We learn and grow.

Submissives and slaves – and I say this to you only because I feel I need to also remind myself – your emotional process matters, and sometimes your owner will love you very much…and still step on your toes.

Dominants and masters – and I say this to you because I feel the need to also remind my beloved – when you step on the toes, apologise. Think about the weight that you bear in protecting your property, too. And know that sometimes, we all fall short, but the measure of a conscientious owner is one who sees the issue, works to take ownership, and moves to grow and shift right alongside their submissive or slave…their treasured property.

I’m feeling only a bit better today. My hormones and insides are rebelling and I am tired. So tired. But, still we carry on, and focus on loving one another. It is the best thing to do. Always.