May 17th, 2011
We played a lot last year, with .submissive and .girlfriend and .object and .rigger.apprentice and other such silliness of defining my roles. But this week, with his help, I have come to realize some of my basic poly programming is faulty. Some basic principles have gotten warped or ignored or buffered instead of understood, and accepted. I also still had a handful of false stories lurking in the dark corners of my occasionally self-deprecating mind. I realized I needed to reprogram. I needed to get the false stories and the faulty lines out and rewrite them with truth.
I showed up at the wrong time in his life.
I showed up when I was supposed to.
I had to beg, plead and convince him to date me.
I had to wait until he was ready and able to date me.
I did not even know if he wanted to date me.
He told me that he loved me and wanted me to be happy.
Everyone else had an easier path to his heart.
Everyone has their own difficult path.
We are basing our relationship on having toy as our toy.
Our relationship nearly ended and our path with toy is helping us repair it.
He is giving toy attention instead of me.
He is giving both toy and me attention.
Asking for what I want is selfish.
Demanding all my wants be met is selfish.
It’s not fair if someone else gets what I want.
What someone else gets has nothing to do with my wants, nor does it have to prevent me getting it, too.
He withholds things I want to torment me in not so fun ways.
He gives me everything he has to give because he loves me.
I have to create and defend opportunities to have my wants fulfilled.
We find and create opportunities to fulfill our wants together.
August 12th, 2010
He asked for an evening of service.
I began to plan. What types of things could I do for him? What would he enjoy? What would be most useful? He cautioned me to not get too specific, to have a general idea, and remember that things do not always go as planned. (Sometimes it feels like they do not Ever go as planned.)
This was easier, making general plans of service. I would be visiting at his, so I took each area of the house and came up with an offer of service, depending on where he wanted to be and what he wanted to do. Lawn work and gardening for outside. Organizing and cleaning for the basement. Dishes and cooking for the kitchen. Cup holder, foot stool, foot rubber and/or story teller for the living room. Oral pleasure for the bedroom.
Not having a structured plan, but simply offers made the evening go more smoothly than it might have otherwise. Work ran long, we got together late, and he spent some time reminding me that I cannot jump over the steps right in front of me to get to ones I think he wants instead. I did, however, get to serve him. I helped him a bit in the kitchen and I rubbed his feet in the living room. Most importantly, I got to spend time with him, but it got me thinking about service and what that means to me.
In the second post I ever made, Serving Him, I talked about him labeling me a service sub, my struggle with that label, and my acceptance of it through the joy of serving him. Last November, I wrote about Service Space – the warm fuzzy happy space I am in when I am serving and giving to others. In April, I wrote about including service in my Ritual to come out of object space.
What does service mean to me now? Why do I do it? How does it make me feel? Who do I serve? When do I serve? (Yes, I wanted to see if I could get all the question words in.)
One side of my service is serving in exchange for what I have been given. I was once thanked for taking care of him, and I simply responded, he takes care of me. I serve him because I am grateful for all that he does for me, and sometimes in gratitude for a specific thing/scene he has done for me. At work, I serve our customers in exchange for being paid. At the club, I am a Service Top in exchange for the chance to learn, teach, share and be part of the crew.
On the other side, serving makes me feel useful, gives me a purpose, a goal to achieve. I enjoy doing for others, and generally put a higher priority on that than on doing for myself. I was brought up to help others, to be a caretaker. The people in my life are very important to me, and if I can make things a little easier for them, or make them a little happier, by serving, then I feel fulfilled.