First, I finished an assignment given to me by friends that had me taking an honest and deep look into myself to see my positives. Doing the assignment isn't what I'm proud of though, I'm a smart woman, even I can accomplish something difficult if I'm clear on what the guidelines are. What makes me proud is that while I started this assignment putting forth a bare minimum amount of effort, I finished it by REALLY following it's guidelines. I took a deep and honest look at who I am and acknowledged that yes, I really can be worthy of being loved and respected and not have to accept being treated as anything less than that. It was harder to do than it probably should have been, but I did it as much for myself as I did it to make them proud of me.
Next came ending the relationship with J. Trust me when I say I'm not saying "I did it" on this issue with any joy in my heart. It makes me incredibly sad. I love him, and I have a feeling I'll always love him. But loving him doesn't mean I have to accept being treated as something less than his equal. Being submissive doesn't mean I'm less than he is as a dominant, it just makes me the counter-balance to his dominance. I gave the relationship with him everything I had to give, where he only gave it what he wanted to give, what was convenient for him to give in the moment. So I'm proud of realizing I deserve better than to be treated the way he was treating me. In the deepest, secret part of my heart, I hope that someday he learns to be able share his heart and contacts me again when that happens. I always saw so much good in him, so much potential for 'us', but you can't respect someone more than they respect you and have it work.
The next one is the one that has me sitting here tenderly while I type this. Because it was used abusively on me years ago, I've had a major phobia about belts for decades. Even the sound of one being pulled out of his pants would have me feeling light-headed as if I was going to faint. It was so bad that when I would 'assist' in removing J's pants my hands would shake when I undid the buckle and I'd leave the belt in his pants when I removed them. I thought I'd never trust someone enough to have them use a belt on me. Belts are part of the reason I have trust issues, so this was a major issue on trust and fear for me.
I've found a friend I trust, really trust. His intentions come from nothing but love, mutual respect and friendship. If I didn't think his wife was beyond wonderful, I'd probably wish he was single LOL! Anyway, I've got this friend I find I'm able to trust, really trust. He doesn't expect anything from be other than to be the best me I can be. He doesn't demand respect, he just earns my respect by being himself.
The other night he and I were outside trying to avoid being eaten by bugs and talking while having a cigarette. From deep inside myself I realized how much I really trusted this friend, and I told him I was taking my 'off the table' list of things 'off the off the table list'. LOL, you know someone really understands you when they understand what you mean when you say that. I knew I had a spanking coming, so I knew I was opening up the possibility of his using it soon. And he did. Midway through he stopped to change implements, and I heard that sound. You all know that sound, the evil hiss of leather sliding through loops of material as it's removed. My heart clinched and I heard myself screaming in my head that I'd changed my mind. But all I did was put my hand back and ask for him to hold it, to anchor me to a safe place, and he did. He didn't use it hard, but he made sure I did feel it. When he was done using it I was nearly hyperventilating, but knew I'd faced my demon and had come out 'alive'.
As the spanking was wrapping up he told me the belt would be used again, as the last implement of the spanking. I'd felt the belt and come out 'alive', but deep in my heart I NEEDED to feel the belt and come out feeling more than 'alive', I needed to feel 'safe', feel that I really, deeply, honestly could trust again. I took a breath and asked that if he was going to use it again, to please use it 'for real' this time. To please use it 'hard' this time. I didn't even hold his hand, I just squeezed the pillow to me while I raised my bottom into proper position and felt the first lash sear into my bottom. I didn't count strokes, I couldn't do more than concentrate in the voice in my head that was saying over and over that I was ok, that I was worthy of being able to trust again, that I wasn't someone who deserved to be beaten and abused...
I felt each lash, I felt the burn, the sting, the pain. I held my breath, and gasped in deep breaths, and then it was done. I'd done it, I'd taken one hell of a belt spanking and was more than alive, I was loved, I was respected... I was safe.
Almost 18 hours later my backside is sore and looks it. My friend has definitely learned the weakness I have about being spanked on my sitspots and upper thighs. But as sore as it is I'm equally peaceful inside myself. It's now the middle of the night and I wish I was sleeping, but inside I still keep hearing the voice reminding me that I did it, that I deserved it in the best possible way... and I am good :)