Since I am limited in what I can write about these days I opt to write about what is not a limitation : the origin story.
Every comic hero or villian has one… it is how those things work. The thrill of the story is how Peter Parker becomes Spiderman or how Bruce Wayne becomes Batman.
That loud pop you just heard is the explosion of the brains of the comic purists who think I just committed blasphemy by mentioning a Marvel and DC character in the same sentence.
Clean up on aisle 9.
My origin story goes back to childhood. At far too young of an age it was my task to care for others. It was my responsibility to care for the house.
At age 6 I was letting myself into the house, doing my homework unsupervised, making my dinner, washing the dishes, putting the laundry in and ironing clothes.
I didn’t spend my childhood being a child. I was groomed to care for others.
It wasn’t just the physical chores it was the mental conditioning to not allow myself to be selfish. It was not being allowed to ask for things for myself. It was about not having a birthday or Christmas celebration because there were other more important things that needed doing and I was the one who had to do them.
While I aged I resented the responsibilities. I also sought them out. I looked for initmate partners that needed fixing when the person who needed the care was me.
As a single woman I fell into my training…..care for others and it translated into my various career choices. Service was who I was not just what I did.
When the time came that I needed to navigate my way into the alternative lifestyle now called home – I always wanted to be one of those super submissive women who procliamed from the mountain tops that they lived for service.
I can’t say that I do. I serve because that is how I was conditioned. It is what I know. It is most familiar.
I don’t get joy nor angst from it … I just do it.
While the time has long passed that attempting a ‘regular’ ‘vanilla’ relationship is something I can do, the concept of service doesn’t appeal to me in the way I’ve seen (or been told to see) in others.
Do I provide service? Yes. Physically, emotionally, sexually all there. I am founation and support and all that one might wish for in choosing a charge. I am damned good at the things I do, unapologetically.
What I am not is into service for the sake of service these days.
If given an evaluation from B I am thinking that tops grades would be earned. Perfect I am not but what I am also not is one to give the one I serve reason to bitch and moan and complain. I choose this life because I have the luxury of doing such, and treat it like the luxury it is, not the chore it could be on paper.
Am I asked to do things I would not necessarily want to do? Sure, and that to me is a part of service. What doesn’t happen is that I don’t go all Snow White and whistle while I work. That service with a smile thing has never resonated with me, even when it is the thing that I want to do for him.
One of the funnier moments of life occurred when asked the question what happens when release comes. What does a subbie girl do when the one she serves says her service is no longer needed.
The answer for me is act like my world has fallen apart, mourn, learn from it and eventually move on. The answer for others was take it with a smile and consider it one last act of service.
Say what now?
I’m supposed to smile through the tears and pretend like my heart isn’t broken because it is an act of service? The devil is a liar. Funny thing though when these same subbie girls met with that actuality in their own lives….I didn’t see a whole lot of smiling. ..but that ain’t none of my business
My origin story as one who submits goes back to my 20s. To a relationship that formed my vizion of how life could be, even if we did not live it like we should have done when the opportunity was there.
That relationship inspired in me the desire to find new ways to serve. Those skills remain to this day. They make me the delightful girl that my formers knew. That relationship also created the bitch on wheels that others steer clear of on sunny days.
It made me aware of the catharsis of pain. Physical and emotionally it brought to the surface a healthier method of dealing with that which ails me than other things I used to do.
It matured me to the point that I was able to manage the past seven years. It is what I will need to fall back into to navigate the next seven as the band is on hiatus. The training and conditioning I’ve had is what will take me through this time. Even if on the other side of it life looks different than what I’ve seen.
Its given me the strength to do what must be done, instead of what I want to do. That in a way is comforting….. a little.
I will take what I can get these days…..who knows where the next smile will manifest.