288. About dad

I thought I’d share a bit about my dad.   While a bit mundane, the truth is, most of life is pretty mundane, even for a bisexual, polyamourous, submissive, naturist, sexually adventurous person like myself! 

As shared in my last post, my dad died recently – just before Thanksgiving.   He was very much a product of his upbringing.  Like most people, he had a difficult time separating that upbringing with what truly made him happy.  He grew up in a very Anglo-Saxon-protestant-closed-minded-swallow-your-feelings-do-as-expected-the man-is-in-charge-appearance-over-substance family.   From what he shared with me about his father, it sounded like his father had it even worse than him, as did his father before that.  It’s as if each generation slowly shed this archaic and unhappy way of thinking, living, and loving.    

As part of this, my dad learned to drink his problems away, which clearly doesn’t work.  And when it doesn’t, the go-to is to then blame any problems on others — especially anyone “different.”   However, he also unlearned these things.  His life was very much one of transformation, into a thoughtful, loving, caring, and yes, even nurturing individual.   Having his own family – and namely my mother – is what changed him.  But it didn’t happen overnight.  

I never fully experienced the “old” version of my dad.  By the time I was born he had shunned most of his former ways (drinking, cheating, gambling, fighting — yeah, he spent some time in the county jail from various bar fights, drunk & disorderly, stuff like that).  My siblings experienced more of that version of him. 

He spent a long time trying to figure out how to be a good person.  It started with him first going down the path of trying to just be a good husband.  It took him a long time to get that right.  By the time I was born, (I am the youngest) he saw it as his last opportunity to get fatherhood right.  He worked hard to complete that path.  

He was present for me.  That’s saying a lot, as frankly, it all starts with being present for your kids.  Then, of course, it is about what happens when you are present.  My dad was involved and showed interest in all that I did, even making sure we had our own father-daughter outings without mom.   I felt loved, accepted, and special.  As a child, you can’t really ask for much better feelings than those.  I know I was fortunate that the dad I knew was not the dad my siblings knew or the person my mom first married. 

I think in some families this would have been fodder for resentment from my siblings, but honestly, it was the opposite.  They all were happy for me and for my mom – and for my dad.   While I am sure a part of them feels sorrow for what they missed out on, their lament never became resentment.  For that, all credit goes to my mom.  

My mom never made her kids feel responsible for their dad’s actions.  And she worked tirelessly to fill us with joyful experiences such that we never felt a void from our father.  And while my coming along was the impetus for his final transformation, it wasn’t a switch that suddenly flipped.   It did take him a little time with some backsliding — however, I was always oblivious to this as mom never let on as to what was going on.  Simply put, she allowed me and my siblings to experience the best of him and she shielded us from the worst. 

I often think of how hard that was on mom.  In many ways, the love we had for dad was undeserved and unearned.  If only we knew.  Ah, yes, what if we did?  What if we were exposed to his ugliness?   I can only imagine.   Instead, each of us was exposed to his love, to whatever extent he was able to give it at the time.  For me, it was a lot, and I will always be thankful to my mom for allowing him to express it and for me to experience it, absent any ill thoughts. 

And how do I know all of this?  Dad was very aware of his transformation and very open about talking about it.  Mom actually says little about it.  She never complained about how he once did this or once did that.  But he often apologized, openly and in front of us,  for having done certain things.   

He wanted us to understand who he was and who he had become so that we could understand that people can indeed change.  As a result, he also taught us that a lasting and joyful change can only be fueled by honesty, openness, and love.   And again, as much as I could credit my dad for teaching this lesson, it isn’t lost on me, nor was it ever lost on him, that this would have not been possible if not for my mom. 

She didn’t accept his behaviors and she even left him once for a time.  But despite his actions she still loved him.  Why?  I don’t know.  You can’t really explain love.  His actions would certainly be enough for most people to fall out of love.  Mom shared with me that she always saw that the best of him was always within him.  As long as she sensed it was in him, she couldn’t stop loving him. 

My dad was a fantastic grandfather to my kids.  He totally accepted T1 and treated him the same as all other grandkids (as a reminder, T1 is not my biological son, he is Mike’s from a prior relationship).   To be clear, T1 is my son, biology or not.  I am also grateful that my children got to experience the best version of my dad as possible, as have my nieces and nephews.      

Politics?  Family?   If you have only read my last few posts you’re probably confused as to what kind of blog this is.    Well, it’s a Jenny kind of blog!   I know the kink is more interesting, but there are times I need to show a bit of the person behind the kink. 

Yes, I am a wife, mother, PTA attending, suburban-living, middle-aged housewife living a pretty normal life.  It’s just wrapped in a lifestyle that is a bit unconventional (to put it mildly).  Domestic Discipline and all the other “stuff” that goes with “My DD” are things that I do and a part of who I am.  The occasional diversion into posts about other stuff is to help remind you that such things do not define all of who I am. 

Yeah, I am pretty normal.  For instance, just the other day after sex with my neighbors, my husband spanked me because . . .     

Next: 289.  The holidays – Thanksgiving

162. Domestic Discipline Sympatico?

I’ve written about my “unquestionable” acceptance of Mike’s authority.  It’s been a journey to achieve that level of acceptance, especially when it was never part of the original plan.  If you’ve read my early posts, you’ll know my DD started out as MY DD — my submission on my terms, Jenny style!

As our DD evolved and I encouraged Mike to use more and more discretion in creating rules and administering punishments, I would use our Maintenance Sessions as a time to discuss my observations, concerns, or need for clarification regarding his actions.  Such discussions helped synchronize our individual needs and expectations.  As our DD further evolved, I found myself with fewer and fewer concerns, and thus asking for less and less clarification.  It has reached a point where I truly have no reservations or concerns about his actions.  I accept them without question.

I like to think it is because Mike and I are so in sync with what he wants as my Dominant and what I need as his submissive.  I believe we achieved this because of the way we approached our DD and also because of our individual personalities.  We have achieved DD Simpatico.

In fairy tales, … okay, make that, in very kinky fairy tales, that would be the end of the story.  BUT….  This is real life!    Full of ups and downs, with needs and emotions that ebb and flow like the tide.  A tide that sometimes brings with it a hurricane or two.   

WATER, WATER, EVERYWHERE. . .
Mike has come up with a variety of rules that are all his own.  Mostly minor things and I accept them all without reservation.   About a week ago I mentioned I should start drinking more water and thus Mike obliged with a new rule for me – I can only drink water until he says otherwise.  No coffee, no soda, no tea.  Just water.   

I am not a huge coffee drinker — Most mornings will have a cup or two, but sometimes none.  I love my iced tea and sodas….certain foods just call for certain drinks.  Water, while good for me, is no fun!   But alas, as I wrote in my prior post and the preamble to this one, I have reached a point of unquestionable obedience to Mike.  Sympatico! 

DD ANTIPATICO?
Kayla and I were having lunch at a restaurant and I ordered water to drink and Kayla ordered iced tea.  I don’t know what it was but this strange feeling came over me.  Part frustration, part disgust, part indignation… can’t really put a finger on it, but whatever it was, it woke the rebel in me.  

I recall thinking, “I am a good submissive…heck, I am a great submissive.”  I even thought aloud as I told Kayla,  “A good submissive won’t question her Dom even when she may disagree.  A great submissive won’t even disagree, thus has nothing to question, and I’ve been a great submissive”

Now, before you object to that statement, let me clarify.  I said it as hyperbole in a moment of frustration.   Questioning your Dom in a respectful and orderly manner is not a weakness.  It is a strength to be commended.  But in that moment, I was clearly wanting to glorify my past performance as justification for my impending bad behavior.

As the waitress came to take my order I proudly added, “And I’ll have a tea to drink.”  I looked squarely at Kayla with a proud resolve.  Kayla said, “Is that a good idea?” to which I replied with a full sense of entitlement, “I don’t feel like having water. I am having tea.”
Kayla’s reaction was a nice, “Do you want to talk about it?”  I told her there was nothing to talk about.  I understood the implications of my actions and didn’t expect her to cover for me.  She reminded me several times before the tea arrived that I could change my order.  I did not.

I took a few sips of my tea and realized the satisfaction I got from ordering it did not carry over to actually drinking it.  It was very unsatisfying and I ended up not drinking any more of it and went back to water.  

TIME TO PAY THE PIPER
I told Kayla I would confess to Mike.  It wasn’t that I wanted to spare her from having to tattle, but that I knew I just needed to own up to it.

I told Mike once he got home from work.  He told me to undress and he had me stand in the corner with a bit gag on.  He said he would come back in after dinner and make periodic “adjustments” until J was asleep and he could fully deal with this.   He left the room, and told J that mom wasn’t feeling well and wasn’t going to be at dinner.

I remained calm as I stood in the corner for over an hour.  I was disappointed with myself but not upset in any way.  I reconciled it in my mind as this momentary “break” that served a purpose to release whatever negative energy had built up in me.  I no longer felt that energy, so it was hard for me to even relate to what it was I was feeling at the time.   I just know I needed to “erupt” and having done so, was feeling happy with things.   I didn’t think much about the punishment to come, as I felt whatever it was I deserved it and was already accepting of it in advance.

What followed were a series of “adjustments” as he would periodically return to the room.  A soaping here, a spanking there, butt plug, nipple suckers, nipple clamps, tack bra, you name it.  By the time J was asleep, Mike had pulled out most of the arsenal of stuff we own.   As I know you all seem to like to read about punishments, I’ll share the details of the punishment as best as I recall, but will do that in another post as it will be lengthy.   Just what you pervs like!

As for my post-analysis reflection, I’ll also save that for that next post.  As always, it’s all good, it’s all positive, it’s all sympatico!

NEXT:  163 Domestic Discipline Antipatico?