What a Difference a Year Makes
I’ve been thinking an awful lot about what was going on with us at this exact time last year. That horribly bleak period of time where I tried so hard to convince myself that I could ever be anything but his.
This is the post that I intended to write when I sat down here yesterday, but before I started writing, I read a comment from Ms Blair that mentioned last year and I ended up getting sidetracked with thinking about prostituting myself for Master’s financial benefit. I realize prostitution and last year are not related but maybe it threw me for a loop to have someone in my head like that (How is it in there, Ms Blair? Roomy? 
)
I think about this time last year quite frequently actually. I look back on it the same way one might recall that narrow miss of the car that pulled out in front of them on the highway. Intermittent dwellings on the ‘what would have happened if-’, the acknowledgment of having avoided certain horrific tragedy, followed by an overwhelming sense of relief, an appreciation of life. Feeling lucky.
We are lucky. We’re lucky that we came through that period. Not just that we came through it still together, but that we are stronger for it.
When I was at my mother’s house and we were sitting down to Thanksgiving dinner, I couldn’t help but think of last year’s Thanksgiving. It was, without comparison, the very worst day of my life.
It was the night before Thanksgiving last year that everything went to hell. Right up until that pivotal moment, things had been peachy-keen-jelly-bean. Well, perhaps not entirely peachy-keen. If I remember correctly, this was just days after Jes making her big announcement of upcoming Babygirl.
But that night, “this” happened that led to “that” being said that led to “this” being said that led to “that”… etc. etc. That led to us retreating to our corners to lick our wounds- and lock the other out.
That Wednesday night, the night before Thanksgiving last year, was dark and lonely and cold and… horrible. Just horrible.
The next day, Thanksgiving day, dawned even colder. Master and I weren’t speaking to each other, so wrapped up in our own pain and betrayal that we couldn’t even see the other’s pain and confusion. He shut himself away, physically and emotionally, in his cave. I shut myself in the bedroom. The kids stayed in their rooms. The silence was heavy. The doom was palpable.
I couldn’t think of anything to be thankful for.
Sometime late in the afternoon, after I’d cried myself a river, I started to feel guilty for the kids. It was their Thanksgiving, too. So maybe I wasn’t feeling particularly celebratory, but maybe they were. It wasn’t fair to thrust my adult pain and angst on them.
I pulled myself up by my bootstraps and headed to the kitchen to make a Thanksgiving dinner. It was way, way late. I think the turkey got done somewhere near to 8pm or so. I remember standing in the kitchen, peeling potatoes and making a pumpkin pie- and crying the whole time.
I took Master a plate. He accepted it with stoic, and sterile, gratitude.
The kids and I ate at the table.
I don’t think anyone talked.
I don’t think anyone ate, either.
Without question, it was the very worst day of my life.
And I never, ever want to forget it.
Painful and horrible as it was, I need to remember it. Starkly. Clearly. Forever.
A person becomes a more conscientious driver after a narrow miss.
We are better together for that narrow miss.
This last year has been remarkably drama-free for us. Something wonderful happened during those two weeks of blackness. Those two weeks when we clinically discussed the ending of us, as painful and raw and hurtful as it all was, something changed in us for it.
I’m not saying that every couple must, at some point, stand at that precipice to fully appreciate what they have. I only know that we were one of the couples who needed it. Because it awoke something in us. Something that we’d both put to rest, probably years and years before we even knew each other, a self-protective response to other hurts and betrayals that had nothing to do with the other, but effectively kept the other out.
That day that I stood ready to walk, outwardly strong and confident, inwardly screaming and begging for him to look, to just LOOK at me, inside me, and FIX it before it was too late. On that same day, he stood back, and from what I could see was detached, unemotional and closed- and inwardly was doing much the same screaming.
I don’t know which one of us cracked first. I don’t remember who had the epiphany that the other can’t see what we aren’t showing, aren’t sharing. It wasn’t just the old “s/he ain’t a mindreader” realization- it was something else. Something more visceral.
We were both very, very good at not letting our hurts show.
Whichever one of us opened up first, the other was not more than a second behind. What I remember most vividly about that day was how incredibly light I felt when it was over. Like I could float away, so unburdened was I with no longer having to keep that door shut.
Neither of us take that “gift” lightly. For he’s let me in as surely as I’ve let him. I hold as much power as he does to wound, to cut. It has not been the painful experience we expected, the reason we held so tightly to those barriers, that fear of irreparable damage- it hasn’t been. Instead, we treasure it. Comfort it. Soothe it.
It’s not submission that was gifted, not his dominance or ownership that was gifted.
It was looking at each other, I mean really, really looking at each other, and believing that the pain of certain separation would be far more traumatic than the pain of opening up- and possibly losing.
It was gifting each other with implicit faith.
That he would lead me, lead us, where we need to go without abusing that privilege. It may not be perfect or rosy, and it doesn’t have to be.
And that I, too, would follow, without regret or malice. Without resentment or second-guessing.
In the last year, there’s been more growth, more connection, more progress made between us as a couple; as Master and slave; husband and wife; friends and lovers, and between us as parents, a united front, and equal (yes I said equal) contributors to childrearing, than there was in all the previous years combined.
We needed that one pivotal moment to make a chink in the wall.
What difference did a year make?
My entire world.
Uncategorized | kaya | 
Friday December 4th, 2009 8:07am
you are fucking awesome.
that is all.
that was beautiful.
that we all should have your insight and courage.
only one word describes your post today…….
BEAUTIFUL
my wish for this holiday season is that everyone reaches the point you and your Master have reached.
morningstar (owned by Warren)
morningstar´s last blog ..Worst part of Christmas
OH, wow. Beautiful. Thank you.
SeekerofWisdom´s last blog ..strengthening solution
Ah, I remember that time, was just thinking of it actually, tho I didn’t remember that it was this time last year.
I’m so glad you 2 were able to work it out, and to even become better partners for each other for it.
I too remember…I was a neewbie to your site, newbie to learning about ‘the life’..and i already adored your writing…so open,so honest, and truly informative to the inner workings of a strong, submissive, capable woman. I so hurt for you then…now, I’m so happy for you that I could just …burst! Kaya, you’re one in a million, hon. Thanks. You are a gift to us all.
nilla
nilla´s last blog ..FFF 12/4 The Trip
Kaya, I’m a lurker of a few years who’s never commented here before, but I had to say that this was just beautiful and that you have a genuine gift for writing. Thank you for sharing it with us.
I stalked you on fetlife this morning and you mentioned something about being eternally grateful for reading other people’s writing about mistakes they’ve made and how they got round them…
Kaya… Thank you.
Kaya, I am not sure I have ever commented here before. But…”It was gifting each other with implicit faith.”
That’s exactly it. We went through a separation and near divorce in the midst of our 25 yr marriage. That stepping back, REAL self assessment, and deciding to come back to each other eyes and hearts wide open has made us a different couple. I am also grateful for all of it. For us, without tearing it down, we never would have rebuilt.
Sara´s last blog ..Grateful For The Years
remarkably well said…you make me smile, you make me tear up sometimes and i am so incredibly happy for you and your family. a happy holiday season to you all!
itswhoiam´s last blog ..the flue the flue
Kaya, you’re such an awesome writer who kicks ass at expressing your words and thoughts. You should become professional, hun.
I can understand what you mean about near misses in a relationship. I had that happened in my own relationship with my SO, and it’s made me grateful that what caused us to break up didn’t happen…but made me more appreciative that I lucked out as he did.
Lynnsey´s last blog ..Welcome to my Journal!
so absolute! so perfect! i’m so glad that the two of you found this peace, this path, this life.
Sir's pet´s last blog ..Full moon! gorgeous
Very cool. Just,
very, very cool.
doubleknot´s last blog ..The Bitter Fruit of Disobedience