While I’ve been revisiting my correspondence with Sir, and thinking about tasks and scenes, I found something else. An email full of gratitude, tears and joy. Thanks for something that may never have happened without Sir and kink. But which is just about as separate from sexual deviance as you can get. Let me tell you more…
It was just a few days after Sir got back in touch that I received a call from my sons consultant. She had a long awaited confirmation that he is unquestionably on the autistic spectrum. In my memory it was a month or so later, but no. There it is, in my folder, clear as day. This email includes a video. For those of you who don’t know, I don’t tend to cry very much. Throughout my marriage emotion was used against me. So I learnt not to show anything. I had forgotten this clip that I sent him, uncomfortable as it was to make, I can’t watch it back in full now. It’s not sexy, there is no naked flesh or fingers plundering my folds.
No, just me in tears.
Happy to finally receive the diagnosis I’d been sure was there since before he turned one.
Of course, my opinion had not been worth listening to. P had surreptitiously belittled me in front of teachers and doctors when I’d asked for his case to be reviewed.
I certainly wondered if maybe I was overreacting, like P had said. Or if I was actually onto something. Somehow though I allowed myself to be convinced I was in the wrong. P said his traits were “just quirks” and the school staff followed suit. But now, three years after the start with Sir and the end with P I was here, on my sofa, awash with emotions.
I’d been right all along!
For the record, there is nothing wrong with my son, he is a magnificent young man. I would not change him, or his diagnosis, for all the tea in China. That news though…
I was just so happy that finally we would be able to get the support he so desperately needed. I would be able to access the courses which would shed light on how to manage his challenging behaviours. Excited, I updated his class teacher and SENCO at the end of the school day.
He asked me why I was talking to the teachers after school that day. I hadn’t quite been ready to tell him about his diagnosis, but the words came regardless:
“You know the doctors we’ve been seeing, and all those games you’ve been playing?”
“And you know the magic world you live in, and this silly world that we all have to share?”
(I held my hands up next to each other, demonstrating the two separate worlds)
“Well, the doctors think that there may be a way to bring those two worlds a little bit closer together. To make it a bit easier for you to get along. How does that sound?”
~Cool~ He said, before moving my hands closer to each other and running off to play with his little brother.
I will never forget that conversation with my marvellous little man. Not that he is so little anymore!
But what on earth does all this have to do with Sir and kink?
And why would I send him a snotty, tearful video about my sons diagnosis?
There is no denying the fact that tears make me feel vulnerable. And Sir has proven time and again that he is a safe man to share my fragility with. He respects that, and guards it. His job is to keep me safe after all. But I didn’t just want to share the tears. I needed to say thank you to him. Sir had, after all, been the catalyst for me trying again with the school. With the doctors.
His tasks gave me a focus, which led to more confidence. And a less cluttered brain.
The list I’d been keeping of my boy’s traits was brought out and rewritten; I added dates and examples, noted questions down. I approached the school with it. Instead of the criticism from P for daring to suggest there was something out of the ordinary going on with our child, I had Sir giving me ways to show myself I wasn’t hopeless, useless, worthless…
I will talk more about tasks at some point, about what they mean for me.
But for now just know that my vanilla self-confidence was being nurtured by stretching myself in very non-vanilla ways.
With Sir at my back, and the school on board it was just a case of convincing the GP to refer him. When the DR asked my boy about dinosaurs I’m not sure he could have imagined learning the length of a triceratops’ thigh bone, or the circumference of a T-Rex claw. But after a 20 minute of being talked at in the surgery a referral was quickly put in place. Two years further on- because that’s how long it takes- we received confirmation of what had been so clear to me for 9 years. Three years on again, and he is the same deliciously wonderful young man, but now with skills that will help him manage thrive day to day. (I’m more than a little bit proud of him, I’m not sure if that comes across.)
And so, this is why I sent Sir a two minute video. Me, showing my gratitude with tears of joy. Sobbing quietly, thanking him for everything he had done to get me to the point of referral and beyond. To enable me to grow into my own skin, not only as his submissive, but as a mother and all round decent human being.
What do gratitude, tears and joy have to do with the quote quest prompt for this week?
It is all about soul mates, not snot!!
Three years have passed since that video was sent to him, and well over six years since he first walked into my world and planted the seed of self worth. I know that he and I are our own people. We lead separate lives which are linked through our dynamic as life allows. But even when he is away I try to live the life that he has shown me I can enjoy. Perhaps I am on a fools errand, but it works for me. I am his happy submissive, and I trust that if he weren’t pleased with me then he would end our relationship.
Given the way he sets me to work, it is perhaps unsurprising that I am able to submit to anyone else in his absence. He doesn’t force me into anything, or micro manage, or inhibit me in any way. What he asks of me has given me wings over the years. I didn’t think I believed in soulmates. It feels too restrictive for my liking.
But maybe I had my definitions all wrong?
If the following quote is true perhaps I have met mine?
“A true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life.”
He has certainly brought me to my own attention, and everything has improved immeasurably. Not just for me but for my little family too. The diagnosis was a huge milestone in my world. Being strong enough for my boy when nobody else seemed interested… A direct result of Sir holding up that mirror and telling me to just look back at myself. Holding my hand as I did as instructed, and then adding reassurance as I take steps of my own choosing.
Anyway, I must move on from sentimentality before I give too much of myself away! Perhaps my next post will be more erotic?
Gratitude, Tears and Joy was my latest addition to Quote Quest. Check out my other posts in this category here.
For a different perspective on tears then have a look at this guest post: Trust And The Catharsis Of Tears.