I am both the author and the heroine of my own writing here; a situation which causes its own tensions.
I write a lot about the wonderful fun I have with my boy but there are other moments I find hard to share. The ones where there is uncertainty, where I don’t feel like his Domme and don’t think he sees me as one. The misunderstandings, the awkward distances, the lack of confidence, the anguish of insecurity.
Part of that reticence is fear. Fear of making the situation worse, of breaking a relationship which at its best is a euphoric mix of joy, exultation and wonder. Part is my own shame at being unable to communicate my feelings adequately, of having done something wrong.
I feel though that this leaves this blog with a less than complete view of my relationship. I’m not writing a novel here, this is my story and I’m not a perfect person. I’m not a perfect Domme.
Sometimes I’m tired, or he’s tired. Sometimes the plan just doesn’t come together. Sometimes real life demands more attention. Sometimes there’s no place for us to be a Domme and her boy.
When that happens I miss it. I long desperately for the moment when the focus kicks in and I really feel it.
Then all will be well again.