364. Part II – Why I AM A SUBMISSIVE WIFE

Picking up where I left off on the prior post. . .

I have come to realize that as a child I had a feelings of guilt, anger, and rejection. Those feelings were also surrounded with plenty of warm and loving feelings, as shared in my Backstory. The negative feelings were not all-consuming. But, as stated in my prior post, there were many “mundane” experiences that embedded some of those negative feelings into my pysche.

I won’t share them all. They were nothing overtly traumatic. Something as an adult you’d say, “And why did that bother you?” But to the mind of the seven year old that experienced it, the answer seems obvious. Exactly the sentiment expressed in my Childhood is Wasted on Children post.

FOR EXAMPLE

I was keenly aware that I was my dad’s “favorite.” You can read more in my About page. In many ways this was a positive, but as an adult I started to reflect and recognize it also had some negatives. I felt guilty my siblings didn’t get to experience the best of my dad. Why me? Why should I be the lucky one? I felt I hadn’t done anything to deserve what my siblings missed out on. I think my people pleasing was a manifestation of trying to show I deserved the love and attention I got. In my mind, I had to do something, – anything – to earn what was so freely given to me.

Parenting can be such a sucky thing! I mean, you’d think showing unconditional love and support to a child would be uber-nurturing and self-affirming for that child. Nope! Even that, through the reasoning skills of a child, can be warped into a guilt-inducing thing.

Another example – there were a couple of occasions where my dad didn’t allow me to do some things with my siblings and cousins, who were all older than me. Those events really stuck with me as I interpreted it as there being something wrong with me such that he felt I didn’t deserve to do whatever fun thing the older kids were doing. Odd that I don’t have any specific memories of my mom doing the exact same thing, although I know she did so countless times. But it was my dad’s “rejection” that stuck with me so much that I can recall all the specific situations where this occurred.

As I said in my prior post, these experiences don’t have to be overtly traumatic. I was never abused and all these “negative” experiences were wrapped in a lot of loving experiences. They were mundane things that the mind of a child had to interpret and rationalize. At the time, being the much younger one of the group didn’t mean my parents made sure I had age appropriate experiences and that my siblings and cousins didn’t have to always worry about me tagging along. No, it meant there was something wrong with me and something missing from their love for me.

HOW I “FIXED” IT AS A CHILD

I realize now that the way I “fixed” this as a child was to conform and make as little fuss as possible in hopes that would both show that I deserved the tremendous love I got as well as “buy” the missing pieces of love I felt from being “rejected.” I became a people-pleaser and abandoned my own needs, so much so, my own needs became that need to please. That isn’t necessarily a bad trait, but it was pleasure based on what I thought would please people, not what necessarily actually pleased them.

Conflicting with the need to please was my mom’s enduring mantra, “Love life, every moment, every day.” And that if I wasn’t loving life, it was up to me to change it. Not a man, not a drug, not anyone but me.

I found that trying to please others was hard because I didn’t know what pleased them. I hit upon the idea that I had to first be happy, as you can’t make anyone happy if you’re not happy. Truth that!! But I went about it the wrong away because I rooted my happiness in what I THOUGHT made others happy. I became highly invested in that mindset such that I would get offended if my motives weren’t respected and applauded.

As I look back at my life pre-DD, I realize I was living much of my life as an impartial observer.  I was in a constant rush to achieve my goals, pursue my dreams, and I was suffering from not having a free moment to myself.  I was overburdened and lived in constant stress.  What was important to me was truly unimportant in the scheme of things.  I thought I was living life, every moment, every day, but it was fake.  It was a hypnotic dream. (See Post 30. I Found my Thrill where I elaborated on this concept).

I now understand how the habits I cultivated as a child, set me up for failure as an adult. It’s one thing to put others needs before your own when fully motivated by the act of doing so with no expectation of getting something directly in return. But doing so because you think it will “buy” you love, adoration, appreciation, and respect? You’re in for a big disappointment. It will backfire as you will eventually feel unappreciated, burned out, angry, and resentful.   

HOW I “FIXED” IT AS AN ADULT

How on earth did I figure submitting to my husband and a lifestyle of Domestic Discipline was the answer?

It’s hard to explain, but in looking back, I don’t think submission was the direct answer to my problems.

The answer to my problems was to accept my lack of control over how others, especially my husband, chose to treat me.  Further, if someone was being unloving to me, I no longer had the need or desire to “earn” their love.  I needed to accept what it means to take care of myself and accept that I have no control over how another person chooses to be.  

Accepting that I can’t control other’s feelings or behavior has freed me to take loving care of myself.   And I do that by behaving the way I want to behave, by truly making myself happy so that I can then be in a mindset that is capable of bringing joy to others. THAT was my answer. It just so happens that they way I wanted to behave and the way I truly make myself happy falls under the definition of a submissive wife.

I know that sounds like a giant leap, but going all the way back to my Third Post, I believe THAT is why the idea of submission resonated with me as I shared in that post. It was always within me, I just didn’t know it. For whatever reason, be it those childhood experiences or mid-life crisis, or whatever — submitting to my husband fulfills me and has made my marriage indestructible and fulfilling beyond anything I could have imagined or can even fully articulate. But maybe 364 posts have begun to scratch the surface!

By the way, all this self-reflection was triggered by Chelsea. I’ll provide an update and conclusion of sorts on her stay with us. Her stay prompted me to think about where my need to submit comes from. I still may not have fully answered it, and maybe won’t ever do so. But you now have some of the pieces that I think make up at least part of the answer.

Next: 365. One More Reflection and Then Let’s Move On

363. IRRATIVE PROCESS PART 1 – WHY I SUBMIT

That’s not a typo. I did mean “irrative.” You’ll have to read this post to find out why. Of course, you can scroll right down to the last section if you don’t care to submit yourself to my ramblings.

Picking up where I left off on the last post. Why do I submit?
Again, you can read many posts about my views on submission and happiness by going to my Shortcuts and choosing from my favorite posts on this topic.

I tried to do my best not to repeat my former ramblings and give you all fresh new ramblings, but I think most of this post turned out to be a re-hash of things I’ve previously opined. It may take me one more post to get to some newer, fresher, thoughts on my submission.

BOYS TO MEN

I will start going back to my formative years of youth and how I approached my relationship with boys and eventually with men, including why I was attracted to Mike. As shared before, I met and dated Mike in high school where we dated off on and for several years. We had a different group of friends which made it difficult, but we always remained on friendly terms even when not dating each other. We reconnected shortly after high school – and the rest is history.

What attracted me to Mike, even in high school, was that he always seemed to want nothing more than to make ME happy. I never felt like I had anything to prove to him. Contrast that with other boys I dated who clearly wanted me to make them happy. I say “clearly” but as I look back on it, it was less about them and more about my own perceptions. For some reason most boys made me FEEL like it was my job to make them happy. As I look back, I can say it was more about my own perceptions than anything they overtly did.

Maybe it was “societal norms” influencing my perceptions. Whatever the case, being in charge of a adolescent male’s happiness is a lot of pressure for anyone, let alone an adolescent female. It leads to a lot of self doubt and worry about whether you are being a “good girlfriend.” Feelings that are pretty normal even without any added pressures. But for some reason, I just never felt that way around Mike.

I “DIDN’T CARE” ABOUT MIKE

I think I was a better girlfriend and a better person to Mike because I never cared how he saw me. I know that sounds strange. I mean, I wanted him to like me, and later love me and marry me. But I could be more myself around him versus anyone else. I think that raised my self esteem and made me more attractive to him. And funny thing, he says the same about me. He said he always felt more confident around me, less insecure, more himself. I guess that’s why we clicked!

I strongly believe we attract those who like the vibe we put off. If you are negative, nagging, anxious, insecure, you attract men who like and thrive on that. Yes, there are plenty of men who seek that in a woman. When you truly embrace your feelings, go from needy and anxious to relaxed and sensuous, your vibe attracts an entirely different person. And yes, some men are intimidated and repelled by that.

I always felt deliriously safe with Mike. I believe it was because I didn’t feel compelled to focus on him, and could focus on me. A good man wants to make you happy. When you’re happy, he’s happy, when he’s happy, you’re happy, and the happiness just feeds on itself.

HAPPINESS CAN BE A FOUR LETTER WORD

The challenge is, figuring out what truly makes you happy. The trick is, it’s really hard to know what truly makes you happy. You might be pursuing some idealized version of “happiness” that leaves you very empty, yet you continue your pursuit of it. That type of happiness is a four letter word.

For a long time I thought happiness had to be the “do-it-all-wife.” Work, kids, the whole works. As a parent, I had to be the super-parent, taking on any and everything without asking Mike for help. Why was I so reluctant to involve Mike? I think I figured that out, but will get to that later. For now, let’s soak in my attitude at that time.

I doubled down on my efforts once I became a stay-at-home-mom. My thinking was that if I am not working, I had to take even more parenting and household stuff off of Mike’s plate. Then when our youngest was born and had special needs, I made a conscious effort to take on even more to help minimize the impact our son’s needs had on Mike.

You’re probably saying, “where was Mike during all this.” Oh, he was there, but I was doing my best to keep him at a distance. Over time I pushed him out of a lot of things, even interacting with our kids. At least he had the gumption to insert himself, despite my protests, else he would have missed out on many experiences.

For instance, I would be happy to take the kids on an outing on the weekend to give Mike a free day off of work to relax. He had to practically beg to come along to an outing as I insisted he relax. While my motives were well intended, I eventually learned they made him feel unwelcome in joining his own family on outings . Ouch!

I was not happy, and neither was Mike. No need to re-hash my first few posts about my life pre-DD. You can read them starting here.

In summary, I was doing what I thought made me happy and I thought Mike needed. And Mike, being who he is, was giving me a lot of latitude in doing those things as he wanted to make me happy. But in doing so I was wearing myself down, shutting him out of a lot of things, and not feeling fulfilled by all the things I was doing. And instead of changing, I would just double down even further at what I was already doing. I had this attitude that if was I was doing wasn’t making me happy, maybe if I did it even harder I would be happy.

Doh! Easy to see the error in that thinking now, but at that time, there was no telling me otherwise. Thus, this small shred of mutual resentment appeared. It then started to get larger over time. Then along came DD and our world and marriage and life changed for the better!

BUT WHY WAS I DRAWN TO SUBMISSION?

DD forced me to think about what made me happy. I realized that the happiness I thought I had was false. Post 30. I Found My Thrill sums it up the best, so I won’t rehash it here.

Well, this post has dragged on and on with no real resolution as to what may be behind the tremendous fulfillment I get from serving my husband. Hey, getting to the bottom of such things can be an iterative process, but I will there. It just may take another post or two.

IRRATIVE?

Ha. I made a typo when I first wrote this and typed “irrative” process” instead of iterative. Maybe a Freudian slip! Irrative isn’t a word, but it should be! It’s quite irritating to me to not understand what is at the root of things I think and feel. Hence the reason I started my blog as it helps me to do so.

Anyways, maybe I’ll just have to torture you with one more post about me rambling on about myself. I know you’d rather hear about something sexy or raunchy. Sorry, but if you’re a long time reader, you know you have to suffer the occasional slings and arrows of my outrageous ramblings before you’re rewarded with the “good” stuff. Hey, who just said, “Since when has anything Jen posted been good?” Stop that!

NEXT: Part II. Why I am a submissive wife

362. ALMOST FORGOT: CLIFFHANGER & SEX BLOGGER AWARDS

Two things I forgot to include the last post.. . .

CLIFFHANGER – DICK & BELT OR TAKE THE OUT?
I meant to close out the cliffhanger from Post 360. Finger Spankin’ Good. Did I choose Dick & Belt, or did I take the out Mike offered me?

I only had moments to formulate a response. I quickly assessed all the pros and cons and —- I took the out!

I can get dick any time, and as for the belt, as much as I accept spankings, guess what? They hurt! So given the opportunity, I’ll opt-out. I was already spanked a bit and I think my orgasm also contributed to my dick-free mood. Plus, I wanted to make a point that, as much as I appreciated the “deviation from the norm,” (aka “the nice finger fuck”), I strive to keep sex and discipline separate.

And that’s the perfect segue. . . .

SEX BLOGGER RESOURCE & AWARDS
I encourage you to check out Kinkly and subscribe! tI’s one of my favorite sites. Their Sex Blogger Directory is a great resource for finding blogs that relate to your tastes and desires.

I’ve been listed in their Superheroes List in the past. Something like #360-ish out of 500. Nice to be listed! They are currently taking votes for their updated list.

You can Vote Here.
Sort alphabetically and look for Domestic Discipline, Jenny Style

If you have a blog you’d like to be listed, you can be added to Kinkly’s list by going here.

Whether you give me a nod or not, I encourage you to check out Kinkly if you’re a reading perv or register your site if you’re a kink-related blogger-perv, like me.

Post 363. Irrative Process Part 1 Why I Submit

361. Childhood is wasted on children

WARNING: No mentions of sex or spankings in this post.

I had a mega-post all written. So big in fact that I needed to break it up into three separate posts. But then, I decided not to post it at all.
– DELETE! –

I concluded that, at that level of detail, it is not my story to share. Three posts about Chelsea are enough (357. We are Four. 358. Chelsea Moves In. 359. DD will Amp you Up). You’re stuck with me writing about my favorite topic – Me – and how better understanding Chelsea’s journey has taught me some things about myself, and people in general.

CHILDHOOD WASTED ON CHILDREN?
It’s a shame that childhood has to be experienced through the mind of a child! Why does such a grand time in our life, the most formative time of our life, have to be lived through the lens of a child? Why does childhood have to be wasted on children?

I say that a tongue-in-cheek to make a point that so much of what we experience as a child shapes us as adults. The problem is those experiences were interpreted through the reasoning and coping skills of a child.

Childhood experiences can have a tremendous effect on us throughout our life. And how our child-self interprets them can be so varied such that kids growing up in the same household with similar experiences can end up with totally different views about those experiences.

Those views are powerful because the conclusions we reached about an experience as a child BECOMES the conclusion that is forever embedded in our psyche. We become slaves to the reasoning skills of a child.

No matter how much we are told or provided clear evidence that an experience wasn’t our fault, or that we misinterpreted what happened, or whatever the case – there is no convincing that child otherwise. As a result, as adults, we remain mired in whatever emotions the experience triggered in our child-self and those emotions can sometimes become all-consuming.

GRANDMA’S COFFEE
I have a fond memory of my grandmother. I was four or five years old. I know my age because it occurred at a house they sold by the time I was six.

I walked into the kitchen and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. She was standing, rather stoic, near the door of the back porch adjacent to the kitchen. She was staring out into her well-manicured back yard. The slight breeze of crisp and cool air seeped in through the screen door. To this day I remember the smell of the coffee, the smell of the air, the touch of the breeze on my cheek, and the look in my grandmother’s eyes.

It was a thirty second experience, or less, before she saw me and said something that broke the moment. I have no recollection of what she said, or of anything else about that day. I surmise the reason this brief experience was seared into my memory was because the look in my grandmother’s eyes. It was more stoic than serene. Even at four or five, I recognized she was deep in though about something very meaningful to her. There was something about her look that made a permanent impression in my mind. That “marker” allowed me to retain all the wonderful details about the moment.

I long to go to that house, stand by the back patio to the kitchen, door open, crisp morning air coming through the screen door, and enjoy a cup of coffee. So much so that I discovered the house is now a vacation rental. Once COVID is over, we hope to rent it! I think my love of coffee is rooted in that experience. When we are ready to rent it, I sure hope there’s a cool morning like the one in my memory.

That was a positive childhood experience. My point is, it was very mundane and inexplicable as to why that memory was seared into my psyche and gives me joy today. It doesn’t make much sense given the countless joyful things I experienced with my grandmother, but I couldn’t tell you of a single smell or what the air was like or the look in her eyes like I can for that morning in the kitchen.

But what about negative experiences? How you interpreted them as a child is now a part of who you are as an adult. Hard wired, deeply rooted, metastasized throughout the core of who you are, how you think, how you treat others, and most importantly, how you think about yourself. And those “negative experiences” could be things that are obviously traumatic, such as abuse. But they also could be over something that was mundane, yet our child-like minds interpreted them otherwise.

CHELSEA REVISITED
Suffice to say Chelsea had some traumatic experiences, and making them worse, they weren’t just cloaked in secrecy between those directly involved. It was a systemic, collective community of secrets, rooted in religion and family tradition. And while you can imagine what some of them might be, some of what she shared were truly mundane things that she interpreted a certain way.

Jaime is due back in about two weeks. Only in the last few days has Chelsea began 100% opening up with Jaime about everything. Not so much her childhood experiences – she says she shared all of that with him when they were dating. No, more importantly, she is sharing what those experiences mean to her. How they influence her, how they have defined her, and how she is striving to have them no longer define herself.

By changing those definitions, she is changing a part of who she is. Change is scary, for her, and for Jaime. While I don’t know what this means for their marriage long term, I sense this is bringing them closer together, not further apart. It’s just that the “new together” that defines their relationship will be different. Not sure exactly how or to what degree, but ultimately, they are changes for the better as far as resulting in a happy, complete, fulfilled, and secure young woman.

WHAT ABOUT ME?
I said this post would be about me. Well, I guess I lied. There was a bit about Chelsea there. ANYWAY – In addition to my realization that one problem with childhood is that it is experienced by children, it also got me thinking about why I connect so strongly to submitting to my husband. It caused me to re-examine my child-mind to better understand what is that makes submission so fulfilling and wonderful to me.

It goes back all the way to Post 3. The Search when I shared how I stumbled on the idea of Domestic Discipline. As I shared in that post, I approached it with repulsive feelings, and as I read more, I felt the repulsion melt and be replaced with giddy anticipation over what is possible. Why?

You can read thirteen posts I’ve highlighted in my Shortcuts regarding my thoughts on being submissive or the nine posts I highlighted in the Shortcuts under the heading, Finding Happiness.

I’ve read through all of them again, and while all true to my feelings, they don’t fully get to the root at trying to explain why submission fulfills me. I think I will give that a go on my next post! Uh-oh, esoteric ramble time!