Shoes

It never fails. It’s almost always a Wednesday, because that’s the day I go right from work to the Hypnotist’s, so we can get a bite to eat and I can get changed for bowling. But I like to dress up for him, which – surprise – is not always my most conservative clothing, lol. So I’m wearing a dress just a little too short and a little too “fun” for my conservative Catholic workplace, and because I’m running late I end up having to get coffee from the office kitchen, and who do I run into but the most conservative of my colleagues, folks in the mission department. Because of course.

Looking pretty groovy today.

Last night was an interesting experience. I had met a friend out for dinner (which was lovely, I don’t get to just sit and chat about D/s relationshiping with another submissive woman very often) and since I was in the neighborhood K suggested I stop by after, which I did. We talked a bit and cuddled on the couch and watched a Derren Brown special, and then I headed home. It was just so casual and nice – not a play date, not a date date, not an overnight – just popping by to spend an hour or so together before heading home.

Driving home I thought about how different my life is now, how…normal? I don’t fight and beg for every scrap of time with K, our time isn’t slotted into unassailable silos, and “popping by,” without it being negotiated for and scheduled to the minute, is a thing.

I confess to occasional bouts of “when’s the other shoe going to drop?” worrying. And yet I recognize that this is a trauma-informed reaction. It was so hard for so long, and I was always on pins and needles, stepping carefully, trying desperately not to ruffle feathers. I knew I had to advocate for myself, but I was terrified of doing so, and then when I finally did, I felt so emotionally beat-up that I swung entirely the other way and unloaded all my resentment onto everyone else. It was pretty toxic for everyone involved.

I’m loving this new thing, this new way of relating. This new way of being. Maybe I can stop watching for that other shoe, now, hm?

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