Master and I had a little spat the other day. It was nothing serious, I don’t even remember what it was about or who started it. One of us snapped at the other, the other snapped back and before the end of it, I was walking away with my little feelings all hurt.
I’ve come a long way in learning how to “fight”. We both have. It’s sad to say that neither of us had a clue how to do that effectively when we first met. But we’re better, the two of us. It’s no longer a character assassination, we aren’t out to wound each other or to “win”. And every spat does not signal the beginning of the end. In other words, there is no reason for me to stomp off and start throwing my clothes in a box simply because we don’t see eye to eye on every subject in the world.
Oh yes, we really were that bad.
Progressive as we have been, I’m still trying to learn an appropriate way to be angry. Slavery and submission complicates what is already a complicated thing, don’t you think?
There is one thing that I do pretty consistently when I’m angry that I really need to stop doing. It’s such a small thing, and probably sounds stupid-silly.
I’ll sneak off to the bathroom without asking. Dumb, right?
I know I’m going to get caught. I know it’s going to piss him off and I know he’ll punish me for it. I know it only makes a bad situation worse.
I know all of that. I do it anyway.
But I feel bad when I do it. I’m not trying to rub disobedience in his face, I don’t *want* to get caught. I don’t want him to catch me. You’ve never seen a faster peer than me in those seconds when I’m trying to get done before he wonders where I went. I don’t want to be punished and I hate hate hate that moment when I’m in there and I hear his footsteps approaching the door and then that quiet knock.
It’s really a god-awful, stomach-sinking feeling.
Then there is The Talk and The Look and The Consequence. It all just makes me want to drop through the floor and die.
Yet, the next time I’m angry or hurt, I’ll do it again.
So this time, after it happened and after I got caught, I took the time where I wasn’t allowed to do anything else (The Consequence) and really tried to examine why I do this, every single time. There had to be a connection, because it’s only that one thing, that one rule that I break.
If it were a matter of simple disobedience, then I’d run around willy-nilly breaking all the rules. But I don’t. No other, except that one.
I’m not deliberately trying to make him angry. There are far more effective ways to do that! And if it were that, I’d flaunt it. I’d strut right past him on my way to the bathroom and slam the door in his face. I don’t do that. I’m furtive and sneaky and wait until he’s in the other room and I have reason to think he’ll be in there long enough that I can get in and out before he notices.
It’s not a matter of trying to snatch back some control either. I could do that in any number of ways that it’d be way more blatant than going pee.
It’s always just that one single thing. I otherwise serve and perform and behave as if nothing had happened. Perhaps with a bit more… oomph? I might be a little more, um, enthusiastic about handing him his coffee cup. I might add some extra-special voice tone to “You’re coffee, Master.”
But other blatant or deliberate acting out just doesn’t happen.
Or so I thought.
I happened to think of another one while I was pondering.
I’ll often, but not always, try to get into bed without getting naked. I’m not always successful in that because if he’s already there and is watching me get into bed, I cannot be deliberately disobedient under his watchful eye. But if he’s not there yet and I’m getting into bed first, I keep as many clothes on as possible.
I’m not supposed to wear clothes to bed.
I remembered that and suddenly it was all clear to me. Because I know exactly why I try and keep my clothes on when I’m angry.
I hate sleeping with any clothes on. I didn’t need that to be a rule in the first place. Clothes make me feel tied up and strangled when I’m sleeping. I slept naked before I met him. I’ll sleep for shit if I have clothes on in bed.
But I’ll try and keep them on because being naked in front of him makes me feel vulnerable.
Anger is a protective emotion. When I feel hurt or afraid, rejected, invalidated (and any one of those can be the result of something that he and I disagree about. Especially considering that, very often, my opinion is dismissed due to being the slave and having to acquiesce to his wishes) anger forms a protective layer to keep from being further exploited or wounded.
I don’t want to let go of that protection. I need to hold on to it until I’ve come to terms with having been overruled, or invalidated. It’s not that I’m pouting or stewing, I’m dealing, but without allowing myself to be “harmed” any more.
Vulnerability, exposing myself (in body or emotions) in front of him, erases anger. I can’t maintain that protective exterior, the anger, when I’m vulnerable. The two emotions just don’t mesh and vulnerability wins out.
If I lose that protective shield before I’ve made my peace with being dismissed/overruled, well I don’t know what will happen. I might implode or something.
So I try and avoid situations with him that put me in a vulnerable position. Like being naked. And, most especially, asking to use the bathroom. I avoid them until I can do them- on my terms.
The reason why asking to use the bathrom makes me feel so vulnerable doesn’t matter, I don’t think. It just does. You’ve no idea how humiliating and degrading it is to have to do that when I’m NOT raw from whatever disagreement we may have had. I… bah… I can’t even explain it.
The goal, that I can see, isn’t in erasing the vulnerability that I feel. In fact, I dare say keeping that vulnerability is important.
The goal is, perhaps, not shutting him out of that. Not wrapping myself up in that protective blanket of anger and excluding him from the process.
Not being vulnerable on my terms- but on his.
I need to not believe that I’m losing something if I let go. That there is nothing to be gained in trying to hold so tight to that control. That I am, in fact, losing something every time I wrap myself up in that security blanket.
Preferably without imploding, though. I have enough to clean as it is.
ps. Day 4 with no revenge extracted. I think the statute of limitations is up, don’t you? Too bad so sad!