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

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!

343. Kayla Interview Part II – Kayla Ours, the new addition

Let’s dive right back in where I left off on the prior post.

Good thing many of you are isolated with nothing to do but read stuff like this because this is a long one.  I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoy sharing more about my dear Kayla!

Jen:  Kayla, let’s fast forward 2016 when you became a part of us.   What were your thoughts about us before the events that led us to where we are today?

– – – Kayla reminded me of a post she did on this blog.  I had forgotten.  Instead of repeating things, it turns out the answer to this question is covered in that post.  Check it out here.  Post 182.  Hello, my name is Kala. —

Jen:  Things moved pretty fast with us.  According to things I blogged about, it was October 2016 when I first told you about the “new” lifestyle we adopted.   About a month later, we were making plans for you to move in, which you did right after Christmas.
You went from the babysitter to a submissive in a triad with a married couple in a months time.

Kayla:  A month? That would be ridiculous, like, I was some kind of desperate and needy whore.  It was clearly six weeks!   Yeah, kinda fast.  A lot of thinking can get done in six weeks.  It really isn’t that fast.  And hey, I thought of myself as being more than just the babysitter.

Jen:  I didn’t say “just” the babysitter.  But sorry, you are right, you were much more than that.  It makes for a better narrative for my kinky readers.  But still, that was fast, wasn’t it?

Kayla:  I get it.  I know both of you thought fondly of me and I was always welcomed as part of the family, not just the babysitter.   I believe everything was just perfect timing for where I was in life, what I was needing and hoping for, and what you all were able to provide me.  I so much wanted to be a part of the two of you, beyond just a young family friend.  I had zero reservations.  Did you?

Jen:  Hey, I am the interviewer here.  I think I blogged plenty about some of the things I went through at that time.  (There’s probably about ten different posts about this beginning from Post 79. Anxiety, Resentment, Jealousy, Guilt to about Post 101 Compersion with a side of Submission and Spanking.  Probably more after that as well).

– You can read those if you want the answer to Kayla’s question. Let’s move on. –

Jen:  Speaking of a good narrative for my kinky readers, you told us before your first orgasm was to thoughts of Mike.  Please elaborate.

Kayla:   Yes, pretty sure my first real masturbation and orgasm were to thoughts of Mike.  It wasn’t thoughts of sex with him, at least not at first.   Him just hugging me, which he did in real life, as well as thoughts of him just caressing my arm, which he did NOT do in real life.  Yes, the thoughts of a sexy man caressing my arm was enough to make young Kayla all warm and tingly inside. (laughing)

Jen:  In other words, no different than what it takes to make you that way today?  (more laughing).

Kayla:  I go way beyond warm and tingly today, but yeppers, it doesn’t take much, even today.   But those pubescent fantasies in my head eventually evolved beyond him caressing my arm.  At some point I imagined him disciplining me – as in spanking me.  Not at all in a kink way but like a real disciplining from someone who might spank their kids.  After running those thoughts through my head, well, I’d get all the tingles down there.  At first,my mind would shift to just focusing on the tingles and not thinking about Mike or about being spanked.  But that eventually changed.

Jen:  Why do you think that fantasy appealed to you?

Kayla:  I don’t know.  It’s hard to explain why something makes you feel a certain way, especially at that age when you can’t even comprehend what may be behind certain feelings.  But if I were to guess, I think I wanted his attention and for him to care enough about me to want to help me.  A fantasy of him being stern with me and spanking me was how those feelings were manifested. 

Jen:  At that time, did you ever think about what those fantasies might mean?

Kayla: Don’t forget, I was like 11 or 12 when those thoughts started creeping into my fantasies.   And a twelve-year-old isn’t going to self analyze.  Heck, most adults don’t even do that.  People aren’t like you, Jen, striving to get to the bottom of every feeling.   Most people are too afraid of what they’ll find.   But at that age, it wasn’t about fear or anything.  You just sort of feel how you feel and are confused by it.  At that age I lacked the ability to try and reconcile that confusion.  It’s called puberty!

I really didn’t understand sex or have a desire for it.  I would vacillate between being scared by those fantasies and being turned on by them.  I didn’t have thoughts of penis-in-vagina sex or penis-in-anything sex.  I recall that following my spanking fantasies, my earliest thoughts regarding anything remotely related to actual penetration sex was having fantasies of him knowing I touched myself.  I can’t remember the actual details of the fantasy, but it was basically like in my mind I would tell him that I do it and he would spank me for it.  Kind of messed up.  Part pleasure, part guilt, part older man fantasy.  And I didn’t even know the term at the time, but in hindsight, part submission fantasy. 

I also remember thinking how mortified and embarrassed I would be if I actually told him I touched myself.  But I also distinctly remember being turned on by the thoughts of being so mortified and embarrassed.  In your words, I guess I was pre-wired to be turned on by making myself vulnerable.  But I never fantasized about actual PIV or even oral sex with him.

Jen:  I think having mixed feelings of guilt and pleasure regarding sex is normal at that age.  It can be so confusing.   Even for adults who attach a lot of guilt to sex.  Did you feel guilty about those fantasies?

Kayla:   No.  I never associated those feelings with guilt or of them being naughty.  Maybe it goes back to my mom’s reaction when she walked in on me after a bath as I was rubbing myself rather aggressively with a towel.  She set the tone that it wasn’t a big deal, but something that was personal and private.  I do remember feeling a bit scared about my fantasies, like, “What does this mean?”  “Am I normal?”  “Is this weird?”   But I think every kid goes through that when it comes to everything, let alone something dealing with sexual desires. 

Jen:  As you said, a lot of adults still deal with those questions, especially when it comes to kink.   Do you remember your first orgasm?  You’ve said it was about those thoughts with Mike.

Kayla: I like to think my first was over thoughts of him, but honestly I am not 100% sure.  I think I had some mini-orgasms before I had the first big “O” regarding my fantasies about Mike.  I  just didn’t recognize them as orgasms until I had a really intense one.   Are we supposed to be talking about this?  I was like 11.  Mike had to be what, in his late 30’s?

Jen:  It’s your fantasies we are talking about, so spill the beans here.  What was going on regarding those mini-orgasms.”  Set the scene!  My readers like filth.  And the details of this will be news to me and well, I like filth too!

Kayla:  Okay.  My first sexual experiences may not qualify as sexual experiences.  I mean, can you have a sexual experience without knowing what sex is?  Is sex defined by the area of your body that is being aroused or is it defined by intent?   Don’t you have some committee that determines these things?

Jen:  Hum… I’d have to check with the kink authorities on that.  But continue.

Kayla:  Ew.  I don’t like to think of it as sex and I definitely don’t like to think of it as kink.  My earliest memories of anything we would call remotely sexual was when I was like eight-years-old for god’s sake!

Jen:  Okay, okay.  I’ll rephrase.  What was your first experience where today, you recognize it as something that felt good in a way that today you would equate to a sexual feeling?   Better?

Kayla:   Uh, that’s not much better, because there is nothing at eight years old that felt like what sex feels like today.  But I will quit arguing the point and answer your question.  I vividly remember it because it is actually one of the few mother/daughter memories I have where her actions may have had a positive influence on me.   It was the incident with the towel that I mentioned a few questions ago.

I remember drying myself off with a towel and liking the feeling when I dried between my legs.  I probably was even younger than eight but it was never more than just a passing thought of, “Oh, that felt pretty good” and I’d move on to dry the rest of my body.   But at some point, maybe when I was eight, definitely no more than nine, instead of just a quick wipe with the towel and fleeting thought of, “that was nice,” I decided, “Hum, I should give that another wipe.”   A few baths later and it became many wipes and eventually full on rubs.   Over time I spent more and more time drying between my legs than I did the time before.  Eventually, I would put the towel between my legs with one hand in front of me and one behind and sort of ride the towel like a horse.  A horse that moved rapidly back and forth under me, haha.  It became a bath-time ritual.

I didn’t equate what I was doing to anything sexual.  It just felt good, really good.  It’s like, you know how the warm sun can feel good on your face when you walk outside?  That’s not a sexual feeling, it’s just a good feeling.   It was like that, except it wasn’t my face that got warm.  Ew, did I just say that?   Anyway, I had no clue what sex was and didn’t equate it to anything other than just a good feeling.   And when I did it, I would just reach some point where I was like, “Okay, I’ll stop now.” Time to finish drying or getting ready for bed or whatever.  Never another thought about it.   

Then one day my mom walked in on me, humping away at this towel that was buzzing back and forth between my legs. 

Jen:  How did I never hear this story before?

Kayla:   It’s to your credit that you never asked me about my sexual experiences in second grade!  What kind of perv would that make you!    (laughing)   But for real, I thought I told you about this.  I guess not.

Jen: So how did your mom react and how did you react?

Kayla:  I was cool.  I was like, “Oh, hi mom.”  I didn’t even know enough to think what I was doing was a big deal.  I don’t think I even stopped.  Maybe I slowed down a bit.   And the fact I don’t clearly remember much about her reaction sums up her reaction.  She didn’t have much of one.  She just calmly said, “If you’re going to play between your legs its best done in private, so lock the door when you do that.”

And two things stuck with me.  For a long time, I thought “play between your legs” was an actual phrase meaning to rub or touch yourself down there.  And in my mind, it was just play.  I didn’t know it could be sexual, because I didn’t even know that term.  More importantly, my mom’s reaction was such that it did not equate what I was doing with something should evoke shame or embarrassment.

But I guess as a kid you still sort of pick up on certain things.  While I felt it was normal enough to keep doing it and not feel guilty about it, I not only now knew from my mom that it was supposed to be a private thing that I did behind locked doors, but somehow I also knew it wasn’t something you talked about.  Fortunately, I didn’t go around to my friends and ask them if they also played between their legs.  I was already a bit of the weird kid anyway.  That would have been disastrous.

Jen:  So did you do it more often after that?

Kayla:  Eew, no.  I am telling you, it wasn’t a sex thing!  It was just a way to feel extra good after a bath.

Jen:  But you certainly didn’t stop doing it?

Kayla:  Hell no. 

Jen:  So let’s switch gears.  You said you were a weird kid.  In what way?

Kayla:  There’s the 10-year old Kayla answer and the current Kayla answer.  Which perspective do you want?

Jen:  Too much to ask for both?  Let’s start with kid-Kayla.

Kayla:  Kid Kayla thought everyone else was weird.  Well, I mean, I knew I was the oddball, but I felt I was odd because my supposed cohorts were weird.  I didn’t like kids my age.  I think it goes back to me wanting to be as small as possible so as not to upset my parents.  Be that perfect kid, be mature, be thoughtful.   Not that 14-year-olds are any of those things, but at age 10 I modeled myself after what I thought a 14-year-old should be.  I befriended older kids and they seemed to accept me.  Probably because in my mind they were the “better” kids in terms of the “right way” to be.  I admired them, looked up to them, emulated them.   That made it easy for me to be their friend because they liked how I treated them.  

As I got older, my friends always stayed older.  As a freshman in high school, my friends were seniors.  And the following year when many of them went off to college, their new college friends became my friends and so when I was 16 I had friends who were 20 to 23.

Jen:  Okay, what does the current Kayla think about why Kid Kayla was like that?

Kayla:  Honestly, it wasn’t until the last year or so I’ve figured that out, thanks in large part to you.  It was a self-esteem thing.  I was never truthful with my feelings as a kid.  The truth was too frightening.  A mom who cared more about drinking than about me.  More about making our lives miserable than about me.  A dad who may have tried his best, but couldn’t compensate for all that was missing for me.  I was fortunate that the way I reconciled this turned out to be somewhat productive.  Instead of acting out and being a wild child, I worked harder to be what I thought was the best child. 

At that moment I felt like I had high self-esteem.  I just “knew” I was a good kid, even though it wasn’t enough to bring about change in my mom.  But I know now that our self-esteem depends on how truthful we are with ourselves.  Because I was avoiding my true feelings and pretending that what I was doing was actually making a difference.  Not just pretending my actions helped my parents, but pretending my actions were helping me.  I was pretending I wasn’t being emotionally neglected.  And all the things I was doing to cope with that was not really addressing that.  When we aren’t truthful with ourselves, our self-esteem goes down.

I now know that is what led me to turn to alcohol as well.  You could say it was genetics, and maybe that played a part, but for me, I think it was the environment.  I didn’t feel good about myself because I didn’t know myself, I never faced my emotions.  As I felt those emotions coming to the surface I had to work harder to drive them down, and drinking helped do that for me.   Fortunately, I had you all to stop that from ever reaching a critical point.   

And that is why, as a child, I loved being around you guys.  I felt loved, I felt respected, I felt valued.  Not just from the two of you but from all three of the kids.  It was such a warm and nurturing environment.

Jen:  Thank you for saying that.  At the time, we knew things weren’t good for you on the home front.  We didn’t know all the details, but knew we were your respite.  And it wasn’t like you were just a charity case.  We truly loved having you around.  You were so good with J and T1 and T2 enjoyed your company.

Let’s fast forward to the day I shared with you that me and Mike adopted Domestic Discipline.   It really seemed to connect and resonate with you.  Things happened so fast from that day forward.  Why was that?

Kayla:  Well, first, maybe it helps to understand I already knew I was bisexual.  I had been with other girls, and at the time was living with a friend of mine and her husband and we would have threesomes.   While I was basically a “friend with benefits” to them, I found I liked the idea of being part of three.  I don’t know why.  Two friends are just better than one, right?  And then, of course, there’s the sex.   But it was more than that.  I just really liked being part of three.  However, I was not really that close to them.  I was definitely not in love with them.   Deeply in-like?  Is that a thing?

Jen:  It is now

Kayla:  So I was already predisposed to love the idea of being in a thruple.  Then you add in the fact that by far the two of you are my favorite couple.  Like, “favorite” didn’t even come close to describing it.  I idolized your relationship.  So the thought of being any part of it as an adult, not just a babysitter or kid?  Count me in!

And I was feeling a lack of control at the time.  I wanted to still be the perfect daughter but was drinking more and more myself, and I would feel guilty about that.  It was this loop of working hard to be perfect to cover up my feelings of being neglected, drinking to cope with my true feelings, feeling guilty about drinking, thus, once sober, working even harder to cover up my feelings.  And the loops got bigger and bigger.  I wanted off that roller coaster.  

And I was just getting ready to finish up my undergrad and was facing a decision to get a job, go to grad school, or move back home.  I didn’t feel prepared to make that decision, mainly because of my drinking.  I was feeling very anxious about that.  Everything about the two of you just felt right.  It felt safe, it felt sane.  I was attracted to the two of you, you to me, and it all just felt so right.  I really was in awe and so excited.

Jen:  Beyond the more meaningful relationship with us, what were your thoughts about DD?

Kayla:  It also resonated with me.   Perhaps because of my earlier fantasies, but also because I had always been so self-disciplined for all the wrong reasons, I loved the idea of striving to be self-disciplined as a way to serve someone else.  It’s like I had this power of self-discipline and could finally use it for good, and in return, focus that discipline on what is truly good for me.  I just knew the two of you had my best interests at heart. 

Jen:  Thank you.  We did, and we still do.

There’s so much more we could cover.  And I received a few emails with questions specifically for Kayla.  Some were practical things like how finances work, others about where she sees herself in 5 years, 10 years and beyond.   And then a few sex-related questions.   So — we will just have to do a Part III!

WONDERFUL NEWS
And the answer to some of those questions are revealed in some wonderful news that Kayla shared with us.  Should I wait for Part III to share it here?

Yes, I should. 

 

But, I won’t.

There will soon be a new addition to our family!

How long should I let that sentence linger?

A little longer?

Longer still?

Okay, long enough.

No, it’s not what you think.  Hum.  I really should save this for another post.

 

Okay, okay.  I will say it here.

The new addition isn’t really new, just new in name.

Kayla asked us, and we agreed, if she could legally change her last name to ours. 

Her name will soon officially be, Kayla Ours!   

Just kidding.  You know what I mean.  Her last name will be our last name.   It was something she thought of and very much wanted.  I will elaborate more on that in the next post.

What, you thought maybe the news was something different?

Next: 344. Kayla Interview Part III

342. Kayla Interview – Part I

Although I haven’t been posting much, I feel a renewed energy to do so.   It’s just that, well, things have been a little strange lately.  Do you sort of feel it too?  Can’t quite put my finger on what it is.   Just a different vibe in the world.   It’s probably just me.  

Mike and Kayla are both working from home.  Nothing new for Mike as he often worked from home.  His business pretty much runs as a virtual office.  Also, we’ve been fortunate that his business hasn’t slowed (yet).  For Kayla, the whole work from home is new for her company, but as I think many people are learning, there was no reason not to have previously allowed it.  She can do almost her entire job virtually.

Anyway, it’s different having them both home, although we don’t always stay at our house.  We are isolating within the family, limiting it to just the three of us and T1’s farm.  That means E, J, and by extension, interaction with E’s cousin’s next door to them.  That’s a group of 11 individuals.  A bit large but no different than a large family would have, and we all have become that – one large family.   In addition to the three of us spending more time at the farm, I’ve been going out to there a lot more just by myself, leaving Mike and Kayla at home for days on end.

I want to get you all caught up on my menagerie of relationships.   At some point, I want to share our Immersion 2020 experience.   And I wanted to at least acknowledge a very big anniversary for me — March 17 marked 5 years since we formally adopted a Domestic Discipline lifestyle. That is certainly worthy of a classic Jenny esoteric ramble!  But that will have to wait for another post.

Until then – I’ll catch you up with the latest from Kayla including some VERY BIG NEWS.  Suffice to say, we’ve come a long way since Meet the Baby Sitter.

KAYLA UPDATE
Kayla is now 25.  In October we celebrated a one-year commitment anniversary with her after she moved in with us at the end of 2016.  It’s been an amazing three years  (and three months) and the three of us are closer than I could have ever imagined.  It feels like she’s always been a part of us.  Incorporating her into our marriage and lives happened quickly and, by and large, very smoothly.

I shared that she started a full-time job last fall after completing her Master’s degree.  It was an adjustment as it was her first real job.  40 hour work weeks (sometimes more) can be quite the adjustment for anyone.  And for Kayla, who gets so much satisfaction from serving Mike, it meant adjusting to significant time away from that service.   She had to get creative to find ways to serve him while at work.

Some things that helped her with that transition include

• Love letters:   Sometimes from me, sometimes from Mike, sometimes from both of us.  Just a little letter that we put in an envelope that she opens on her lunch break.  It gives her something to look forward to and feel connected and thought of. . . and sometimes they are more lust-letters than love letters!   She sometimes leave us letters of her own.  Sure we could text, but letters are better!
  
• Sexy Selfies:   Simple and effective, both to her and from her!  She loves to send pics of herself flashing a boob or her butt. Normally from the bathroom, but sometimes a conference room.  Hopefully they don’t have cameras!   We don’t want her to get fired.
• Masturbation on command.  Mike may text her at any time and require she masturbate via Face Time.  She’s had to learn to quietly orgasm in the bathroom stall!  Mike does allow her to stay no if she has a meeting or working against a deadline.  Career over kink!

Jen:   Kayla, how do you explain your relationship status to people at work?

Kayla:  I’m married.  That’s where I start and usually, that’s where it ends.   Some end up asking, “What does your husband do?”  And the more “with it” coworkers keep it gender neutral and say, “What do THEY do?”  I will say, what he does, but then  I might add, “and my wife does x.”   That usually takes the conversation from casual small talk to one of significant intrigue on their part. 

I am open and honest.  I look to answer any question accurately, but only with enough information to satisfy the question.  It’s our policy!

(She’s referring to the policy we follow regarding “Tell if asked.”  The caveat is to only “tell” as much as needed to appropriately answer their question, which sometimes is a fine line such as her throwing in….”and my wife does x.”)

Jen:  I imagine it didn’t take long for the whole office to know.

Kayla:  Nope!  And I have a few pictures of us on my desk, so there’s that too.  Of course, I get a few, “Is that your parents?” comments, to which I answer, “No, it’s my partners.”

Jen: So do you describe us as your husband and wife or as partners?

Kayla:  It depends.  While legally I am not your wife, I believe the term husband or wife best describes the relationship, but sometimes “partners” is less shocking to the other person and they don’t seem to ask me as many questions.   If I am asked, “are you married” it is easier to just say “Yes” as that often ends the questioning.  If I said, “No, not legally, but…” well, then I just invite too many questions.  I am not opposed to answering questions, but sometimes the situation doesn’t warrant inviting the questions.  Typically the setting is just office small talk and thus not conducive to a longer conversation.  If it’s over lunch or something like that, I might respond in ways that invite more questions.

Jen:   Mike would be happy as that is our rule.  So, do you read my blog?

Kayla:  I have, here and there, but, I live those things with you and the things you blog you often talk about, so it’s like stuff I already know.  I sometimes like to just read the comments or the stuff that is about me.  Is that bad?

Jen:  Hum… if I say yes should you be spanked?  (laughing).   Of course not.  I haven’t provided a lot of background about you as I’ve always felt it is not my story to tell.  Well, now you can tell it.   I think… make that, I KNOW readers like the sizzle so give me a summary of what you see as your sexual evolution.

Kayla:  Sexual evolution?  That sounds so comprehensive.  How about I start first with some non-sexual stuff about my childhood?

Jen:  Sure, take it away.

Kayla:  My mom was emotionally absent and an alcoholic.  She was a closet alcoholic most of my early years but I always knew something was off.  As I got older she would be drunk more often.  She wasn’t an abusive drunk – more a nonsensical one and a depressed “woe-is-me, look what I’ve done with my life” one.   It always made me feel helpless since there wasn’t anything I could do about it.  I guess the one thing I was able to do was to try and be the perfect daughter.   I got excellent grades, stayed out of trouble, stayed pretty quiet and didn’t ask for much, which is good, because she had nothing to give emotionally.

Dad, on the other hand, was “normal,” whatever normal is.  He worked a lot which meant he wasn’t around, and I always longed for him to come home.  I felt excited when he would come through the door.  Like, “Yea! It’s time for normal!”   And he always tried to spend time with me.  If mom was particularly checked out, he would take me out for dinner.  Saturdays were “father-daughter” days.   We would always go do something that took all day.  Movies, zoo, museum, shopping, theme park, whatever.  He also tended to spoil me, giving me the material things I wanted.  Once I moved out he helped financially and every time I would see him he would give me whatever he had in his wallet.  I think he felt guilty.  A little about the fact he couldn’t do even more with me because of work, but mostly because he knew my mom couldn’t and didn’t contribute much to my well being.

Jen:  They eventually divorced.  How did that impact you?

Kayla:  Eee, yeah.  It did impact me, that’s for sure.  I was 15 and 16.   It was a mixed bag of emotions.  I think the uncertainty was the hardest part, but the actual news was a relief.  I saw it through my dad’s eyes as something he deserved to get out of.  But still, there was some anger as well, directed mostly at my mom since she was the root cause of it.  But even some anger at my dad, like, why couldn’t he have fixed her or even thinking why didn’t he just leave sooner.  Of course I know now that it wasn’t right to think that way, but that’s how I felt and thought at the time.  I also remember thinking maybe it would change my mom for the better.  That was wishful thinking.  She just doubled down on her drinking and depression.

Jen:  How did that make you feel?

Kayla:  I don’t remember ever feeling sorry for her. I reserved that feeling for my dad.  But in hindsight, I understand her choices better now.  They were still the wrong choices and she was weak for having behaved as she did.  But I now see her through the lens of her being a person, not a mom, if that makes sense.  I mean, as a kid, your parents are people you think have some special powers given to parents.  Like,  they are supposed to be endowed with special insights and knowledge about parenting.  As a kid you don’t realize they are just people, with their shortcomings as well as their own strengths.  The thought that they actually lack anything that qualifies them for parenting other than they were able to make a baby is too scary for a child to ever consider. 

Jen: So that’s now.  But what about then.  How did you deal with the various emotions you went through?

Kayla:  While most kids probably end up acting out like, I did what I normally did as a kid.  I doubled down on my goody-two-shoes persona.  I remember thinking, “If I can just make myself as small as possible, my problems will be smaller.”    I studied even harder, did more things around the house for both my mom and my dad, I didn’t complain, didn’t speak unless spoken to..  Let them complain to me.   That’s really where you and Mike come in.

Jen: How so?

Kayla:  I had been babysitting for you all for three or four years at that point, and you all always let me hang around.  I never had to be small around your family.   You, Mike, T1, T2, and J…everyone was so fun to be around.  It was my personal getaway and my chance to be big, not small.   Ha.  The irony just dawned on me.   Now I like to play “little,” yet you and Mike were the ones that gave me the confidence to be “big,” to be heard, to want to engage people around me.  Of course, it’s a different type of little and big, but still, that’s funny to me.

Jen:  Kink humor!   Before we get into our kinds and our relationship, how’s your relationship with your parents now?

Kayla:  Mom is about six years sober now, recently got a boyfriend, and I feel like I am getting to know her for the first time.  It’s strange and awkward at times, but she’s apologized and seems to be a good place emotionally and mentally.   I try to at least call her once a month and stop by maybe once a month or every other month.  We text more frequently lately.    

Dad is dad.  He checks in with me if I haven’t checked in with him recently.  You know I make it a point to see him, probably a week doesn’t go by where I don’t see him.  We have him over here now and then which I really like.

Jen:  That’s a good segue into our relationship.  How did your parents handle that?

Kayla:  As much as you say kids don’t want to know about their parent’s kink, it’s also true that parents don’t want to know about their kid’s kink.  They basically both knew I was bisexual.  I mean, I had never announced it in some declaration.  But I never hid it either.  And before moving in with you I was living with a friend and her husband in sort of a poly-light type relationship.   As you know, in that relationship I was more of a third wheel that was a friend with benefits. It wasn’t really a deep and meaningful relationship.

But no surprise, they were a bit shocked and concerned when I told them I was doing more than just living at your house.  They had initially just thought of it as the two of you just helping me out.  I let them think that for a while.  It was just easier, and I didn’t know where things would really go in our relationship.   But I eventually told them, very straightforward.  “I am in a relationship with Mike and Jen.”   

Because they knew you and already had positive thoughts about you, they didn’t seem to focus on thoughts of perhaps you all were taking advantage of me.   There was a little bit of that, but not much.  It was mostly, “Are you sure?”  “Why would you want that?”  “What’s in it for you?”   “Be careful.”   They both were more focused on me and my decision, which I expected.   My parents were never much about getting mad at others or blaming others.

The one behavior they both modeled for me was personal responsibility.  This may sound odd from an alcoholic mom, but even in her drunken stupors or non-drunk depressive moods, she never railed against the world.   She always blamed herself for her situation.  I guess in some weird ways that had a positive impact on me.   And dad, of course, was always big on personal responsibility.   If I could show him I gave a decision its’ proper consideration, he always supported me.

Jen:   It’s time to throw a bone to my readers, or a boner to the male readers, and use this to segue to more kinky stuff.

UNFORTUNATELY, this post is already pretty epic.  Some I am going to end it here and do a Part II with Kayla, including some pretty amazing and meaningful news that she announced.

NEXT 343:  Kayla Part II.  Kayla Ours – A New Addition

 

207. More about Me (than I even knew)

Boring alert.   No spanking or submission stories here.  Just a self-indulgent post all about me!   If you want to know more about my personal life and what makes me me, read on.  If you don’t, that makes me sad – so indulge me.  Read on anyway!

MORE ABOUT ME (THAT I KNEW)
I tidied up my blog a bit.  I also am now sharing a lot more personal details.  Up to now I’ve peppered a few personal details here and there, even “adjusted” a few facts around anniversaries and ages for privacy reasons.  Well, I have removed those “adjustments.”

Mike is especially conservative when it comes to what I share online.  Our names are real, as is Kayla’s, but other names have been changed or abbreviated.  As Mike puts it, I need to leave some room for “plausible deniability” if someone we know happens across my blog and we don’t want to own up to it.

I asked Mike if this post is acceptable to him and he agreed that it was.  We are so much more comfortable with our lifestyle and it is extremely unlikely someone we know will read the blog and connect it to us.  Not that we want to shout it from the rooftops, but if someone who knows us stumbles onto my blog, well, so be it.

Want to know more about me?  Read my updated —  About — section!
Also check out my new Shortcuts for those that want a condensed DD Jenny experience.  

My desire to share came with a recent breakthrough I made about myself.  It may seem minor to some, but it is a big deal for me.  

MORE ABOUT ME (THAN I EVEN KNEW)
I shared a little about my upbringing in Post 2. The Backstory.  But I recently made a major revelation that has helped my submissive state of mind.

My mom was always one to promote sharing of ones feelings.  She never made me or my sisters feel ashamed, afraid, ridiculous, or wrong for anything we ever expressed.  You would think the result would be that I became very open and quick to express every thought I had.  Well, it wasn’t that easy and I only recently realize why.

I vividly remember when I was little that I would observe my siblings share whatever feeling they were having about whatever topic.  I recall I would always “evaluate” what they were saying.   I didn’t call it that at the time, and wasn’t consciously choosing to do that.  I just did it.  Even though my mom never “judged” them on their feelings or desires, I secretly was doing so. 

As early as around the first grade I can remember listening to my siblings and then thinking to myself, “Humm, I don’t think that makes much sense,” or, “Come on, they really didn’t think that through very well,” or even, “What a waste of time. That will never happen so just move on.”  For some reason, while I wasn’t afraid of sharing my thoughts, I had convinced myself that when I did, I wanted it to be compelling and awe-inspiring.   I think it was the competitor in me that somehow thought I needed to “beat” my sisters at the thinking game.  This idea stayed with me, all the way up until I was 45.

I think that is why I always spend so much time analyzing my feelings.  I have gotten better where such analysis is “post-expression.”  Meaning it comes after I expressed the feeling.  But there was a time such analysis was “pre-expression.”  So I would never express the feeling.  I would let it percolate and cogitate, making sure it was the “best” feeling, before expressing it.  Almost as if a feeling was an argument.  I didn’t want to express it until I knew I could win the argument (with myself). Does that make sense?

If my family were a club, it would be the “be yourself, express yourself, be silly if you feel like being silly, be whatever if you feel like being whatever – club.”  Despite that, somehow it caused me to be the opposite, even though I thought I was still part of the club the whole time.  I was often called the “logical” one, but I was proud of that term.  I guess because making me feel bad for being “logical” would be against the family creed, so I was never made to feel that it was bad.

What I now fully realize is that I was never good at truly expressing myself, at least not in the moment.  And it is “in the moment” that we truly feel.  Thinking comes later.  To really see ourselves at our reflexes, you have to be willing to express the feeling in the moment, raw and unfiltered by “logic.”   In doing so, you can truly learn what makes you tick, and if you aren’t satisfied with your emotional reflexes, work to change them.   By doing this, you are changing your core…changing your perceptions and reaction.   You can only make such changes by being able to examine the true and honest feelings you have.  Those feelings only come from “the moment.”  Not from hours or days (or sometimes weeks or months) of percolating in the mind.

By the time I expressed a feeling, it may have sounded good, but may not have really reflected how I felt at the time.  It reflected how I WISH I FELT at the time.  Thus I never got to address the bad feelings in an honest way.  Thus those feelings festered, and manifested themselves into the need to control my environment, or passive aggressive habits where I felt resentment that others should have assumed to know what I wanted even though I didn’t express how I felt.

I even look back at my interest in counseling and feel it was less about helping people and more about learning ways to have a more sound “argument” with myself over what I was feeling before I dare express those feelings.

What I now see is a very clear pattern that precedes each time I ever doubt Mike.  It all starts with me not expressing something I am feeling.  Not because I am ashamed or afraid to express it, but because I feel I haven’t fully thought through every angle.  In my mind I hadn’t “earned” the right to express it.  Thus, frustration, anxiety, resentment, or a potpourri of various negative emotions build.  This ball of anxiety needs something to project itself on, and the easiest thing to project it on is the behavior of those around me.

In the case of Post 201. Happy New (Severe Spanking) Year, there were some things nagging at me related to the holidays.  I won’t bore you with the details (you’re like, why not Jenny, you bored us with plenty so far), but simply put there were some things I had envisioned for the holidays that didn’t come to fruition.  The “old” Jenny felt like Mike should have known what I envisioned and made it happen, even though I never shared that vision with him.

I’ve done very well to keep this “old” Jenny from reappearing, but clearly haven’t fully exorcised her from my reflexes.   “Progress, not perfection,” as Mike always reminds me.  

NEXT:  Post 208.  Inspiration from Kayla