Before I get started with this post I want to apologise. I have a great post planned next, and the chapters which are on their way in my story are… well, I’ve been looking forward to sharing them for some time. However, I’ve bumped into a wall with words this week as I’m incandescent with rage. Apparently this is one of my stages of anger. I thought it would be helpful (for me, at least) to spill my guts here while I await advice from Sir. Please bear with me, this could be quite a lengthy post.
I don’t often get angry, but when I do there are three stages.
Moderately grumpy is at one end of the spectrum.
Here is the point where I recognise that something inside is slightly off. I could be tired, have hormones whirring around, maybe I’ve not been eating right, or heaping too much pressure on myself. I manage these by countering what is going on internally, being kind to myself and, in the days when I had a door that opened onto the street, my neighbours would often see me taking ten breaths on my doorstep.
Cross lies in the middle.
This level of anger bubbles up with seeing something that is wrong and needs rectifying. At times like this I’m pleased of my crotchety reaction. Back in the Blogable fiction marathon one of the challenges was to write an argument, which was so, so hard for me. I meant it when I said I don’t argue. I am able to channel my irritation into a well balanced and forceful discussion where, should you hold the opposite viewpoint you need to be able to convince me your course of action is as good as, if not better, than mine. All I ask is that you allay my fears with your solutions and that will damp down the fires if my way is over-ruled.
And the final phase is white hot rage, it burns so hot it turns to ice.
That sounds so backwards, I know, but if you’ve felt it then you’ll understand. In many ways I hope you don’t. There have been two people who have triggered this response, both times have put my children at risk and my response is cold, calm and direct. It is almost an out of body experience where time stands still at the same time as it speeds up, the walls go up and a safety management plan of sorts gets implemented.
So, you know my standard stages of anger..
There are also the moments that I get fired up around online interaction. Usually people in my fabswingers account (essentially strangers) trying to undermine my relationship with Sir, disrespecting our dynamic and telling me that they would keep a meet with me secret. People disrespecting me is one thing, I can laugh that off to some extent, but when they disrespect Sir… I used to “educate” them before blocking them, but after an extended discussion with Sir I now ignore and block immediately. There is no point in letting these online twonks get under my skin. Like I say though, these are mere moments, flash points. And I can put them to bed, not dwell on them. I hadn’t included this as one of my stages of anger list as it is always fleeting.
On Wednesday however, I had an email which brought all the fury.
The same “temperature” as the flashes of a indignation I experienced at the superficial disrespect but this was one of the first times I’ve had been up in arms about disrespect shown to my NO.
Hope you are well.
Thought I would catch up with you and see how things are now and how you are progressing
For context, let me tell you about this man who declares himself Master.
Six years ago I met with a man. Once. This meeting was during a time when Sir was incapacitated and I was free to do my own thing. Unfortunately I didn’t have the self respect, understanding or social network to do this safely. After our meeting I cut ties on Alt.com, and thought that was the end of things. However, he tracked me down on Fetlife. I didn’t chat with him and when I changed my name I must have disappeared off of his radar. Then he emailed Christmas 2017, following up in February 2020. Each time (according to the email archives) I have told him “Thank you but no thank you”. These are the only communications I’ve had with him.
During our brief interaction I addressed him by his name.
I’ve always been particular about honorifics. MrN initially requested I call him MasterN but it wasn’t something I was willing to do over our time, and so I suggested MrN. When I wouldn’t call Pie Sir he got quite upset, but ultimately respected that boundary. And as you’ll know, when Sir leaves on long contracts he removes all restrictions. When he returns, he signs off contact with his name, or initial. He shows me that respect.
I’ve said before, Sir sets the bar incredibly high!
So when this man turned up in my emails, out of the blue, on Wednesday and insinuated ownership over my submission, the touch paper flared. My knee jerk reaction was to send an email of the “Who the fuck do you think you are to sign off as Master?” I swiftly deleted it. That is not the way I wish to represent myself or Sir. Forwarding the email to Sir I asked for his advice on how he feels it would be best to handle this. He is currently away for work so I will wait patiently for that.
I don’t feel bad for not responding.
Part of me wants Sir to email him and tell him to go away, but I shouldn’t have to hide behind my Dominant for protection. I also shouldn’t have to tell him that my submission has always belonged to Sir, even when I went to play with him on that ONE occasion SIX years ago.
Putting aside my response, I’ve been left feeling utterly rubbish. Over the years I’ve become more submissive, but only where Sir is concerned, and in his absence I am my own Sir. I am aware that I am increasingly seen as an alpha sub or top with play friends. I’m not altogether comfortable with this, but Sir is encouraging that side of me. I don’t know his plans but I know he holds me tightly wherever he sends me, and I welcome his guidance as his submissive.
In my submission I am able to soften, become yielding.
There is no doubt I feel at my most beautiful, relaxed and at ease, even when he is stretching me. (Or perhaps especially when he’s doing that?) I don’t like the way that this bloke has made me feel. He’s made me feel all sharp sharp corners and jutting out edges. Like he’s trying to steal my submission. My- deleted- knee jerk reaction felt like an ugly and uncomfortable style of retaining my space. Would it be exerting my dominance over him? [Note: Sir has never spoken to me like that. This is not how I see Dominance.] Or perhaps, rather than exerting my Dominance I would have been protecting my boundaries.
I’ve spent much time beating myself up for being impatient, angry and intolerant. None of these are traits I associate with my submission. My submission which belongs only to Sir- not A, the email guy.
So I am Sirs always, and while we may not be together physically currently, my heart is still bound to his. The way that I show up in my world is just as important as how I interact with the man I have given myself to. I want to be soft and mellow and feel truly warm in my soul. By lashing out I would not only be lowering myself to the same level as A, I would be disrespecting Sir and myself too. I don’t want to be that person.
I like being calm, balanced, and respectful.
Thursday afternoon I offloaded to Slave lytton. We share many ideals on submission and dominance. His Mistress (and one other at her discretion) are the only ones who he calls Mistress. Anyone else would get an undeleted “Fuck Off” response from him followed by his explanation: “and I’m the most submissive person you know!” He did his best to rescue me from the tears that had been escaping my eyes since the email. He’s a fabulous friend and thanks to him I was able to attend work without angry tears rolling down my cheeks. After that, while cooking dinner, I was scrolling through twitter.
I follow K Ghislaine, and am a fan of her blog, breaking away from monogamy.
But when I read her tweet, and the attached post, those tears- of anger and ugliness- broke free. I now understand the saying “I feel seen”. Our experiences are different, naturally. But the anger she expresses in Stop preying on the vulnerable, No means No matches my own.
My history of being on the receiving end of the more extreme end of non-consensual behaviour made me feel like I was over-reacting. That something as small as a four line email causing this much upset was entirely out of proportion. Soon I was finding validation for my rage within her words. It wasn’t just the disrespect of having my “no thank you” being ignored, but the violation of his dominant undertones too. Never welcomed, always rebuffed since our initial meeting.
I teach my children that all emotions are valid, even anger.
I also try to help them learn to express those new and exciting/uncomfortable feels in a healthy. Now that I was starting to understand the reason behind my distressing levels of irritation I needed to listen to that parenting lesson myself. All I needed to do was find a way of navigating the waters without leaving myself feeling ugly, or having my submission and sense of self sullied by my anger.
Enter Naughty Nora, an amazing blogger whose writing I haunt.
In Nora’s post Processing difficult feelings she asks the question: “what is a submissive to do when her feelings are hurt, and she is struggling to set aside her anger and disappointment?” Again, this is another entirely different situation to mine. My anger is not only directed outwards at a virtual stranger, the resentment seeps inwards too. At myself due to the very un-subbie anger. Commenting that we are all humans, and that “feelings are meant to be felt”(1) there was a realisation. Perhaps I was counselling myself? Maybe finding grace in my anger was what needed to happen for me too.
I’m still new to this whole anger thing.
What happens when a small girl’s anger is laughed at? She pushes it down. Then I hid it from myself throughout my marriage, it was just safer that way. Upon meeting Sir I started to learn that it was OK to feel safe, happy and treasured. I became less squashed into myself and there was space for those “shameful” feelings to start to come up. And then the protective mamma-bear was able to react to the physical injustice happening at home. She reared her head, setting the wheels in motion for escape.
Seven years have passed since the wheels started turning.
Over that time I’ve taken huge leaps into understanding my own stages of anger, this was a new one for me. I was unprepared for my reaction because I was caught offguard by his action. It is all good learning, and while this episode has caused significant discomfort I know that I am, ultimately, safe. That it is an email and I have options. My decision to wait for Sir and his steadying hand has left the door open to repeat contact. This isn’t reckless, it’s been 21 months since he last slid into my inbox. I don’t foresee a follow up in the coming weeks. So I have time to discuss. And now I’ve got all of this out of my head I can relax into my submission once more.
My link to this weeks prompt of Supernatural is tenuous at best, let me know if you’ve seen it. Please do go and check out some other posts which are, most likely, more Wicked than Stages of Anger.
From the story of how the barefoot sub became the woman she is today, to toy reviews, with a hefty dose of contemplation, a sprinkling of erotica and a LOT of nudity in between, you can be sure to find something to tickle your fancy at A Leap Of Faith.