The day started like a typical Saturday, quiet, everyone sleeping in.. I was up early, but feeling a bit off. Not a huge concern. We had a busy day ahead of us, so I was preparing breakfast and losing patience rapidly with a little one who was particularly whiny. By the time I made it downstairs to Hoss I was feeling way off, but trying very hard to keep my cool. We had an errand to run that required us to be out the door shortly after 9. We were back home by ten and things took a dreadful turn.
I blew up over a few things he was trying to explain to me that needed to be done. I may have rolled my eyes a bit. He reacted as any HOH would and retrieved Bertha from her secret lair. Things went downhill quickly from there. I did not submit readily. I argued about not needing a spanking. I wanted to talk things out. There was a lot of "I this", and "I that," going on. It was one of those spankings that came rapidly and in my mind out of nowhere. I was unprepared mentally for the assault on my backside and was pleading and negotiating for a break from the first swat. While I was trying to do a very ungraceful swim on the bed to get away from the brush he was demanding for me to stay in position and well, neither of us were very successful in our pursuits. Then it happened. A huge, huge no no here. I flung my hand back and he accidentally caught my fingertips with the swat he was delivering. He dropped the brush and walked away. Guilt ridden for almost injuring my hand, he left the room. I was thanking the good Lord the kids were occupied outside and they did not hear the craziness going on in our room. I lay on the bed, butt hurting, fingers smarting, and trying to figure out what had just transpired. It was a hard spanking, but it was more the fact that I was not submitting. I was fighting the spanking. What was going on with me?
He returned a few minutes later, apologized to me for striking my fingers and reiterated why I am not allowed to fling my hands about or try in a vain attempt to cover my backside. He then finished up the spanking. We hugged for a moment. I would like to say that was the end of things. It should have been over. Wrongs were righted by the spanking, yes? Nope, not this time. Typically when I’m in the wrong I admit it and we move on. All is forgiven.
Not so this time. This time I was left feeling angry and frustrated with myself. Yes, we had both apologized for mistakes made, but I had failed to submit. I was for all intensive purposes acting as if I had never heard of ttwd/dd and what it means to our marriage. I had failed to submit to one of the simplest of his commands and I had in fact put myself in more danger by acting like a fish out of water, flipping and flopping around. What was going on with me? I thought I had moved past this kind of reaction. Where had my submission gone?
Hoss had left for work, so I spent some time reflecting. Then napping. Sometimes a nap helps to improve my outlook. It did not. Typically processing things out in my head helps. It did not. I basically walked away from things just as confused and upset as when it started. My attitude towards my husband deteriorated as the day went on, even though it was not his fault, I was still blaming him. My mind would not let it go that he did not listen to me. Yes, I know, it was his right to decide how to handle the situation, but for some reason I just could not let things go.
Finally, later in the evening, my sweet friend, Bea, messaged me. We hashed things out. Me, explaining my thoughts and feelings. Bea, reminding and questioning, trying to understand where I was at emotionally. I call her, “my voice of reason.” It was through this process that I think the answer finally came. I had felt unheard. I had felt out of control. I had tried to be in charge. Not my job, not my role, a lot of “not mys” going around.
When Hoss went to spank I had not thought we were headed into a spanking. I was still very much into the moment of trying to explain my position. I had not had time to process that we had moved from talking to a spanking. I am typically given a minute to grab a pillow, undress, and get into position. I was not given those luxuries. I was told to lay down and he started. No rituals. No “stalling” as Hoss calls it. No time to mentally prepared. I was being roasted and toasted before I mentally had moved past the words and talking part to the action part. I was trying to be in control of the spanking because I was not ready. I am a control freak most of the time anyway, so when I felt out of control I acted out of control. Flipping and flopping is not the norm. I was out of control mentally and physically.
Once I was able to identify what was going on in my head, I was better able to have a heart to heart with my man. It was then the guilt set in and we were able to deal with the issues that had transpired. I went to sleep cuddled up next to my man, with my head on his chest and felt heard, validated and cherished. I realized by giving up the control I was actually finding my submission was not lost, just a bit misplaced. That even on days when submission alludes me he is still there, my sweet loving man, gently helping me and not so gently helping me to get where I truly wish to be.
Have a blessed Sunday everyone!