What’s in it for you?
When I moved to be with Master, I brought very few of my things. My kids brought their possessions and that was the bulk of what I had to move. As for my stuff, I brought their baby pictures. And I brought my car that I was still paying for. Otherwise I left most everything behind. My furniture, my dishes, my appliances, most of my clothes and knick knack stuff. Shortly after moving the motor blew in my car so he got rid of that and I didn’t have that anymore, either.
Everything here is in his name only. House, cars, utilities, medical bills, savings account. We have a joint checking account because he doesn’t want to actually go pay the bills, and as we move more toward paying everything online, I wonder how long that will last.
Since I have no income, there is nothing in this house that I bought, nothing I can lay claim to. He jokes sometimes that the dirty dishes, or the dog poop in the yard is mine. Other times he very seriously and systematically points out that I have nothing, that I own nothing.
Fertilizing the roots of total dependence. Cultivating the growth of powerlessness.
There is something that happens mentally when you’re stripped of all your things. When you have nothing to claim, nothing to hold on to, nothing to fall back on, you start creating a new sense of security with what you DO have. It’s instinct, I suppose. Human nature.
Random web quote: “Material possessions are often much more than their functional properties; for example, possessions may be used to construct one’s self and thus become a symbolic manifestation of who one is. Possessions with such properties become an extension of the self; therefore, the loss of these possessions is a threat to self-identity. Burris and Rempel (2004) similarly argue that the loss of special possessions elicits strong negative reactions because special possessions are identity markers, and the loss of an identity marker is a symbolic form of death of self.”
What I have, all I have- is him. Keeping him, and thus keeping my only sense of security and identity, is dependent upon pleasing him. The lengths to which I will go to do that don’t need mentioned.
Sometimes this is all a really scary reality, if I dwell on it. I know it leaves me very vulnerable. I know it leaves me trapped. That’s the point, though. I have nothing; no job, no money, no skills, no retirement, no benefits, no insurance, no house, no car, no means, no credit. None of the things that help a person survive in the world. I only have him.
Of course I know I could start over. People do. But that’s a terrifying thought for me. He’s turned anxieties I already had into a tool for his benefit. I sometimes have to cut short a grocery shopping expedition because he isn’t at my side, especially if he expresses the slightest bit of displeasure. Do you think he reassures me that it’s okay, to shush sweetheart, you can do this, go forth and find the bacon? No. He takes it and he squeezes it and he twists it to his advantage. The approval and the encouragement lies in falling apart and failing and running back to him for security. Unsuccessful at bacon shopping, yes, but so very much a gold medal winner in dependence.
I realize to the masses all of that translates into me being weak and frightened. Instead of slaying those demons, and because I don’t have to and I’m not encouraged to, I turn to conquering what is in front of me and what is not scary- or is at least LESS scary- and I please and serve to the best of my ability.
I can clean the house and I can make sure he has a drawer full of dry socks and a hot meal on the table. I can run the errands and deal with the phone calls, insurance guys, mortgage companies, renters. I can shovel the snow and mow the grass, make coffee and fetch ice water. I can do those things. My body is there to fuck. My mind is there to fuck. I can shut up. I can be approving, and ego-stroking. I can be good company and I can smile and swallow my fears when he desires anothers company. I can be whatever he wants. I can be whatever he makes me.
I have stopped longing for material things. I don’t want my grandmother’s china or my childhood teddy bear. My identity and my sense of self and my worth are entirely wrapped up in him, in… this. This business of serving and being used and performing to his standards. Not to MY standards but to HIS standards. I am the most me when I can’t be independently me. I am the most genuine when I have no choice and no voice. This is what he made.
Random web quote: “The value in owning a possession goes beyond its functional benefits; value can be derived from the possession’s ability to symbolize important components of self-identity, such as the successes one has accomplished, the important relationships one has, and what one finds meaningful. When possessions serve this symbolic purpose they become part of the extended self and go from being thought of as “mine” to being thought of as “me”. Thus, the loss of a possession means the loss of some aspect of self in addition to the loss of the tangible item.”
He is the closest thing to a ‘possession’ (and I can already see his eye twitching at me referring to him as “my possession”) in so far as he’s the only tangible thing that comes close to feeling like it is mine.
I came into this willingly and with my eyes wide open. I have enjoyed, on some level, every wonderful, exciting, scary, awful, painful, amazing moment.
I get asked “What is in this for you? What motivates you? What about this fulfills you?” Aside from the whole masochist reason (which covers everything, really), aside from the madly, deeply in love reason (which covers everything else), the even simpler answer is that he somehow inspires it. I don’t know how, I don’t know what he did, I don’t know the steps to take to make “this” happen without him there driving it and creating it.
All I know is that in spite of not having any possessions, I feel like I have everything. In spite of always seeming to be the one to sacrifice myself, I feel like I get the better end of the stick. In spite of getting no guarantees, I feel safe.
I never feel like I’m nothing. That’s what is in this for me.
Uncategorized | kaya | 
December 5, 2012 7:27 pm
The thought of how dependent I am on Master sometimes sends me into panic attacks.
I can’t drive a car… as in I do not possess the skill. I never learned as teen and Master doesn’t see the point of it, since he takes me where I need to go.
I haven’t worked outside of the home since 2001. I have gone to college lots, but he always pulls me right before I finish a degree program or doesn’t see the point of my getting certified to do anything.
Everything’s in his name. If something were to happen to him, it would be a long journey back to independence that I would have to make in a hurry. It scares the bajesus out of me.
But I know that I could do it because as “weak” as he keeps me, he’s made me pretty fucking strong, too.
If we can do this, we can do anything. Right?
Absolutely! I’m just happy to know that I’m not the only one who feels this dependence and has had to work around and through it. When I posted on my blog about how isolated and dependent I was, I got everything from “no way” to “here’s a referral.. you’re being abused”. I should have known you’d be my kindred spirit type.
This. This is why I love you. And whey I’ve been reading you for like…six years or something crazy haha. I only comment rarely but I think I’ve read everything. Thank you for writing your heart.
I’m thinking that maybe all these things that people have serve as compensation for not having what you have. You have a place in this world, a purpose, a belonging. A whole lot of people haven’t got that. Maybe, if that’s lacking, it becomes more important to have grandmas china and the teddy bear from childhood.
And also that people use all this stuff to hide behind and be comforted by, and because the stuff is always there, they don’t get the chance to see and learn what happens if they don’t have it. I think stuff often is used as a stand in for real purpose and real connection and faith.
But that’s just me. And I have tons of stuff, so maybe I’m not one to talk.
Just read an article in newspaper about a widow who had nothing jointly owned with her husband. She is losing their home because she has no job and the bank is calling the mortgage because she is considered a risk. Hopefully Scott has made provisions for your care if god forbid he should suddenly die. You have no source of income, no credit history so you are considered a very poor risk in that event.
Don’t want to be a downer on your happiness but the reality of life is you could be left alone and then what? Just playing devil’s advocate. How would you survive.
Joyce
I’ll just move in with you, Joyce.
Laughing… you would find us tooo vanilla for your taste, But Florida is lovely in the winter…no ice to scrap off the windshield, among other things.
I figured that Scott being the kind of man you’ve described in your blog, would have made provisions for your future in the event of his demise.
Joyce
I agree with you Joyce…..it would be very difficult to be say 60ish and a widow with only his SS benefits to survive on………So yes I would encourage any one in this position to have an honest discussion with their partner/husband about ‘what happens if’ ………….
You two are missing the point. He said it would be safe and he’s made it so. Do you honestly believe after everything else he’s done to provide for me and my kids that he’s not also got something in place for “after”?
I do agree with you as he does seem like a stand up guy but for others especially those that don’t have the benefit of “Marriage” and perhaps have the possibility of being left without anything might consider having an honest discussion with their other half. This is just my thought …in reality I guess it might not be so easy I guess.
kaya,
I have a job, income, a house, a car, possessions. The one thing I don’t have is someone to belong to. Someone who wants me. I yearn for that connection.
As a woman I want to have a partner to share my life with.
As a submissive woman, I want a man I can be of use to. I want to be owned, used, taken.
True it is easy for me to sit here, with my security, and say I would trade it all to be someone’s good girl. Maybe if it was all taken away I would hate it. But I can tell you that I would love the change to find out.
This may be your best writing to date…
And I can’t help but think it is very much a description of what women (most of them happily) lived in the earlier part of the century with the added kinky “bonuses”
Come to think of it, many of those ladies were probably pretty kinky too!
I used to be 100% independent, even married to my man. I made just about as much money, wore combat boots for a living and considered myself equal to him in every way. Unfortunately I acted as though I was superior in a lot of ways and I was miserable, making him so also.
Now, no job, no income, nothing in my name and catering to his whims daily, I have never been happier and never felt more loved, possessed and valued in my life.
18 years of military duty, under the Army’s thumb and I don’t get happy til he puts me in a collar and an apron. LOL.
Even when he deploys, the man rules the castle via Skype! And I complain with a smile because I know that I chose it and wouldn’t have it any other way.
Great commentary, as usual, Kaya -
Got me thinking about the people that loose everything in a fire or a disaster like Super Storm Sandy here. I can see why – beyond the obvious – disaster victims get depressed.
- Don
Thank you. Just…thank you.
Sometimes you have to loose yourself to find your Self. A previous identity wrapped up in things, clouds everything. This way it’s clear. And while i’m sure he has provided for you in the event of his death, that has nothing to do with the present, day to day. It’s good that i’m sure he prepared for your needs in the event of an emergency, based on everything else he has worked his butt off to provide. That doesn’t do much but reinforce what you do not have right now. Like ownership of the house, for example.
…ya know, the older I get the more I want to downsize…
Best,
s.
Very interesting and well written kaya.
Owning nothing has been a spiritual practice for thousands of years, I suppose.
I do feel somewhat uncomfortable reading some the comments, though. I encourage my wife to be independent as much as possible, for I don’t have that many more years to live. We have differences in that I like to get rid of stuff, she likes to accumulate stuff!
I couldn’t do this, be without the resources and the ability to leave. I think some early trauma makes me need financial independence. So maybe I see what you do as even bigger than most people.
-sin
Beautifully worded as always kaya, when i first entered my Masters house i was stripped naked and lil did i know twas just the beginnin, since then its been a hard but fulfillin process of devoiding and stripping, a lot more was left at the threshold from my pride to my pubic hair among many other things, but as u pointed out it´s a win win situation of gaining inner knowledge, stregth and pleasure in servitude
So very beautifully written:)