Today I’m getting my happy on…I guess I’m feeling pretty thankful for the many blessings in my life. Now, I’ve always, my entire life, hated Thanksgiving.
I know, I know. But –shrugs–there ya go. I felt (still feel) that we need to take stock of our blessings *regularly* and not just annually. The food was always out of proportion to the actual “being thankful for family and friends”part–usually with so many leftovers that the fridge barely had enough room. Perhaps that sounds ungrateful, but for a long time I felt it was yet another holiday geared to excess.
This is a different year for me. I have a family that I treasure, I have taken more time to regularly “give thanks” throughout this year and I’m really happy with how my life is. Yes. I’m friggin’ happy, and proud to say it. 🙂
Mine isn’t a perfect life (if yours is, do share your secrets!)–the wife and I had a *major* blow-out argument just last week, and you know that Master is frequently the butt of some of my snark. But we get through those times, right? The hard times make the good times shine a bit brighter. And maybe that seems kind of “Pollyanna” of me, but so what? It isn’t “bad” to be happy with my life! You know, by focusing on the positives I have turned my mindset around from being a total pessimist, to a more balanced viewpoint. I call myself an “optimistic pessimist” these days. And blogging helped.
I for sure don’t come here just to write about the bad things. Why the fuck would you all come back if all I ever did was crab about my kids, my workload, my issues with my family? It would be boring as shit, right? And that led me down another thought-path.
I was thinking about the impressions that we as bloggers make. You read my posts, and (hopefully) leave here smiling. Master and I have good times even in our face time. And I write it as if it happened slow-mo…and sometimes looking back it kind of feels that way from my perspective, as if the two of us are encased in a time bubble that stops the world from moving while we are together.
The reality is that most of our face times are only about an hour long. I have a drive to get to Him, I have a teenager to fetch, and a drive back to home. He has his own commitments to attend to. Neither of us has oodles of free time. And I admit–nearly all the reason we haven’t had play time since late summer has been my fault. We both have lives outside of our kink, despite how much we love one another and want that play time, our commitments must come first. I have a complicated vanilla life between my kids and my business and my job. As does He. And as I was commenting to Jz about this regarding her post today (here) I realized how very, extremely lucky I am in my Dom.
We didn’t sit down and hammer out an ironclad contract to begin. We talked, and listened, and shared. We got to know each other really well before we met. He still chides me for meeting Him in the first place, reminds me that if I *ever* meet another Dom like that again He will kill me. 🙂 I have reassured Him that He is my only Dom, there won’t be another for me, ever. But that’s another story for another day.
The thing is, we understand one another without having to get down to the tiniest of details. No, Master, I won’t give you my credit card numbers (He hasn’t asked). No, nilla, I won’t move you into My home (I haven’t asked). We just know that…we’re an odd couple, I guess. *laughing* He told me early on that He got off on the control when we are together, when He can enjoy the fruits of His choices. (to butt plug or not to butt plug…that is the question)…so if He denies me an orgasm, or makes me wear nipple clamps while writing? That’s for *my* pleasure, not His.
Where was I going with this….*pauses, takes a sip of tea*
OH, right, my “happy”.
The thing is, there are always things to look at. *pauses to look at children arguing in the next room, sighs.* I could for sure come here and tell you about all the wee snarks that fill my days. But instead I choose to come here and be happy. This is my “happy place”. This is even, one might say, my “find my blessings” place. Where I can recount a tale of a face-to-face with Master, one of those micro-visits that leave me feeling that happy bliss-glow. Okay, it’s not a fuck-party. Okay, it’s not a beat-nilla’s-ass-purple date. But it’s time for us to be together. For me to see my Dom face to face, and remember that this thing we do comes in many forms.
This one works for me, yanno?
And to be sure, in the weeks ahead, there will be a date. There will be fucking. There will be horrid little stories of what we do together behind closed doors, and there will be equally horrid tales that come out of my horrid little brain as a result of our playtime. Until then, I’ll enjoy our short one-hour visits, the teasing, the sex-talk, the vanilla sharing. I’ll enjoy Him walking me to the car and pinching me as I hurry to put the key in the ignition. 🙂
I’ll find my happy in any way I can, no matter the brevity. It’s not the minutes on the clock that matter, really, it’s what we do during those minutes that make an impact.
So to speak. 🙂
I’m happy. Not perfect, but perfectly happy.
I hope you are, too.