Trusting Him

As I’m sitting down to write this, my mind is starting to connect the dots. Why all of this happened. I’ve been controlling. Most of what I write here are not really my feelings. They aren’t what I’m feeling about what has happened to me sexually or what I’ve discovered in myself or about life. Some, yes, but most is to get pity. It’s to get others to feel I’m doing everything right and I’m the victim of Him.

This all started going down hill before He even allowed me calling Him Daddy again. I had sent a drawing I commissioned that was of me chained to His iron bed wearing this lingerie He loved with “gentle cuts”, as He once told me, on my inner thigh. I wanted Him to receive it for Father’s Day, for obvious reasons. It was late, but the goodness in Him gave me Daddy back anyway.

When He received it the next day, He said so, that it was awesome and he thanked me. It wasn’t the reaction I wanted. He knew that, too. It’s why He didn’t give it to me, it’s why the package was late and it’s why I’m here right now. Not that gift specifically, but all the gifts, all the attention, all that He gives me.

He knows. He has this sense and He knows when my intentions are in a place that are pulling in for something. I get so lost in my feelings that I don’t even see it. That’s not true; I do, but it’s like it consumes me. I hide behind this façade of denial, victim and martyr. I don’t want to admit to myself how much I’m doing it, but I am. And He knows it.

Once He feels that from me, everything I want just slips away even further. It’s all control. In that very selfish motive behind what I “give”, is me really wanting…and controlling. Instead of me giving and just letting go and trusting that somehow He’ll feel the true intention (before the ugly monster intention eats it for dinner), I wait for a reaction.

When I don’t get the reaction I’m hoping for, I kick my feet and I bang my fists and cry and scream, even if it’s all quietly hidden. Hidden, like I can hide anything from Him. He knows. The truth is I know it, too. I just don’t handle it well at all. I handle it like a “spoiled vindictive child”, as He has said.

I’m so vindictive, and I don’t want to look at it so much in myself, that I fuck someone He tells me NOT to…and then share it with Him like it’s a gift. To write that just took my breath away. My god I’m so fucked up.

This is the first time since this all happened that I’m able to verbalize it. Maybe because I just didn’t want to look hard enough. I’ve had so much happen in the last few days and just haven’t had the drive to write about it. This is why though. It’s what’s been eating at me. It’s what’s been stealing my joy…my life.

It’s what He means when He says “it must be what you wanted because it’s what you got”. I thought breaking my emotional hang ups about my sexual needs were tough to bust. Fuck. That was easy compared to this life issue. This issue is where all of my happiness lies. Interesting choice of words.

It’s why I can’t feel joy or gratitude. I’m always clinging to what’s next and am I going to get what I want? So much so that I can’t feel the moment I’m in. Oddly enough, I felt an amazing moment today that I’ll share as soon as I can. I shared the experience with Him and He brushed it off. He knew.

It wasn’t that I was wrong in having the experience hoping it would please Him. It’s that I had the experience with an expectation of a reaction from Him. It was me pushing. It was CONTROL. I want a reaction– I can’t just lay back and let go. And, as soon as I control the moment…my god it just disintegrates right before me.

It wasn’t wrong that I sent the gifts hoping to make Him happy or having the feeling of wanting to meet Him or even of loving Him; it’s pushing for an outcome. It’s pulling for a reaction. It’s trying to control Him, something I will never be able to do. If I could, I wouldn’t feel the way I do about Him.

He once said, many moons ago, that if there was ever anyone who could get Him to beg, it would be me. I think He somehow said it would never happen…but…if it were possible. I understand what He meant by that, now. He meant that if I could give myself that completely and surrender everything in me, so would He.

That may have been the most powerful, beautiful thing a completely centered, strong dominant man could ever say. It’s the gentleness of a warrior who can bend down to help a child and yet cut you down in battle. Looking at it from this place, not one of my gifts has ever even come close to that. Not one.



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