mo betta makes it…..

I’ve done this relationship thing once or twice.  Success and failure exists in their history and today I think I am in a healthier place to give a relationship the attention it deserves.  One of the things I never quite get used to though is the alteration.

We say things like I want someone who loves me just the way that I am.  We do, except we really don’t.  We want someone who inspires the best in us.  We crave it and seek it on a cellular level while our mouths spit words of defiance.

We want someone who will suggest the healthier food option.  We want someone to look at that $400 pair of shoes and suggest the $200 pair instead, or suggest we wait for a sale.

We want to know that the person we choose wants the best from us, and that they in turn are giving u the best that they’ve got. With that comes alteration, even if change was never on your agenda.

Before little one I had a toy in my life.  I refer to him specifically as a toy because although there was a level of power exchange in our interactions… I never wanted the responsibility of ownership. I wanted someone who could feed my sadist.  Polish my boots.  Eat my pussy. Then leave the rest of that shit all alone.  I wasn’t interested in molding and shaping one to my liking and I damn sure didn’t want one more person looking to me to make a decision.

Today that is not the case.  I think things would be easier without the greater power exchange but the reality is that is not what either of us wants.  Because it is not what we want, it causes alteration.

When it was clear where the little one and I were heading I took some time to meditate about my role in this.  I don’t fuck around with power exchange.  I’ve had my heart broken and my spirit damaged and I always knew that if I would take this role, that I would work to never do that to another person.  I may fail in that goal… nothing is guaranteed, but it won’t be on purpose.

Hypocrisy is disgusting to me.  Do as I say not as I do only works with Clyde, and that only works when he is not having a selective Autism moment.  As adults entering into this dynamic, for me to proclaim a process I am unwilling to attempt myself is asking for push back.

Push back is not power exchange to me.

I expect of the one who chooses me to understand my POV.  You are here because you want to be here and all that tug of war shit is for someone else.  It ain’t my thing.  I don’t like brats, I don’t like token resistance.

I only have 2 rules:

transparency & obedience

I know that both must be earned and I am willing to earn them.  I am not willing to put up with bullshit in the process.

With that transparency thing though I can’t ask that of you, while at the same time painting myself black.  While I am not required in my role to share, I am required to make the process as simple for the one who chooses me as I am able.

In theory I don’t ever have to share.  Explain myself. Consider the consequences of my actions.

In reality that shit doesn’t work and it is the express lane to single city.

Whoever thinks otherwise is lying to themselves.

So when I signed up to wear my Mommy hat, it took some alterations on my part.  It means I have to take better physical care of myself.  It is what I would ask of her.

It means I have to take better mental care of myself.

It means I have to be better with the finances, better with the care taking, better with education.  I can’t ask her to live at a standard if I am unwilling to share that space.

So I’ve gotten some shit done, and still have more to do.  Even if I am still not fully comfortable with the alterations.

They are for the better. We will both be better for the experiences that come with our relationship.

I am still an old bitch though barking at new tricks.

 

Aphrodite Brown 

 

About Aphrodite Brown

Aphrodite Brown is the owner and creator of Vizionz from the Bottom. Vizionz is a life and culture blog covering all aspects of life from pop culture, to politics, to parenting, with an extra heavy dose of alternative lifestyle & sex positive living.
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