When the heart finally comes home

When the heart finally comes home

A few weeks ago I found this site by accident (or destiny). At the time, I had a quick look, decided it wasn't for me, and moved on. For some reason, I found myself back here, not once, but over and over. As if all paths led here. I began to read and take notice. Then, the most incredible thing happened. I quietly realised that I had discovered a safe place. And, it wasn't this website. It was within the loving arms of my husband.

How strange that looks in writing. I've loved my husband for a long time. This year we'll celebrate 17 years of marriage. But almost every year has been an incredible struggle. A power play. Allow me to explain.

I grew up in a family that was out of control. My father was into his fourth marriage. His third ended in suicide. His daughter from that union was my step sister. My father was into black magic and could be incredibly violent at times. I don't remember loving him. He left when I was about 11. My mother was addicted to prescription drugs. She wove fantasy stories into every aspect of our lives. I would have died for her. My brothers were both physically disabled. I suspect her addiction helped that happen. She actually blamed me. Apparently I weighed too much at birth and made her later pregnancies arrive too soon. She told me that as a young teen.

At the age of 14, my mother forged my birth certificate to make me look older, then pulled me out of school (which I loved, I was an A student and lined up for a scholarship) and sent me to work to support the family. We moved constantly, living in a shelter for a while. She smoked and made me get doctor after doctor to prescribe her morphine.

Somehow, I found the courage to move to another country for a while. I totally stuffed up. I had no skills, no education, and more importantly, no self esteem. But I was proud and independent and would never let another person get the better of me.

Fast forward a few years. I met my husband. "I". He fell madly in love with me straight away. I loved him. Not madly. But somewhere inside I knew that out of all the men I'd known, this man somehow was my future.

We married. Had two beautiful children. Went through every rocky moment possible. I thought he was controlling and didn't understand me. I also thought he worked too hard and put too much of himself into making a career. Because I was mortally afraid of losing him, I was certain that every woman he spoke to was after him. Part of that came back to my father, who indeed did have multiple affairs.

Over the years, we had fights so destructive, so hurtful, that he would leave for a few days. At the time, I blamed him. Looking back, I know that my own defences probably made a normal dispute become a war. To allow this man in, to let him see me as needing him in control, was too much to ask.

So, where am I now? After learning a lot about him, about his genuine desire and need to protect me (even when I didn't see it that way), and realising that he worked so damned hard to make sure his family was properly looked after (something my own parents didn't do), I started looking at me. Why was I so hard on him? Why was I so determined to be in control?

That's where taken in hand came in. One thing I've always loved is being spanked. He was the first man to spank me, although hesitantly at first. It became a part of our erotic lives for a while on and off. A couple of times, when I really stuffed up, he definitely took his annoyance out on my bottom! I remember those times, and that I never made those mistakes again. But, my perpetual need for independence has made him more cautious over the last couple of years. And I didn't look for that kind of attention.

We work together, as he owns a very successful small business. Lately, we've joked about the various places at work he could spank me. That got me thinking about a lot of things. Not just erotic, but attitude adjustment.

After spending a lot of time at this site, I started acting as if he was head of the household. I know he likes to be in control and so it was easy to take a step back and let him see me do so. He liked it. I wrote him a letter about my inner thoughts. That I realised how defensive I've been for so long. That I finally "got it" about his care and concerns. That I am so very sorry for not understanding earlier. And that I hope he will no longer let me get away with anything, just because I protest.

He told me it wasn't anything he didn't already know!!!! Now, I feel in a bit of a limbo. I long to ask him to really take over the reins. Not to micro-manage me—for I have a position of authority and responsibility in the business that he trusts me to do well. But in our day to day life. I mentioned my need to be spanked more. In the first week, he spanked me erotically every night. Very nice indeed, but I so wanted a little more! He says he is afraid of hurting me. I tell him that spanking is meant to hurt! But that he isn't harming me.

Last night we were cuddling. I took his right hand in mine and said that this hand I love. It gives me pleasure, and gives me ... and he finished the sentence with "pain". And a tap on the bottom. I asked him if that hand is really for me, even if it is for pain. He said yes.

I know this has been a long post. I am so sorry... but for me, it is cathartic. For the first time in my life, I am in love. I am content, and happy at the deepest level. Two moments of stress that could have turned into fights were quickly calmed simply because we are both calmer.

I know it is early days. I'd love some advice on how to broach subjects with him about more discipline and taking on more control again, seeing as how I've fought tooth and nail for every thing I thought I'd gained.

He is a good man. He loves me and keeps reassuring me of that. I don't want to scare him off at this point.

Any suggestions?

Thankyou to anyone game enough to have read the whole post!

Totallyinlove

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Comments

How poignant.

That was a very touching post. I can relate to a lot of the childhood/adolescent turmoil that you experienced and the funny thing is, I'm actually moving abroad myself in a few weeks. Although I'm not so much running away from something as I am running to someone. I am moving abroad to be with my fiance. I have always been a strong-willed and independent girl (I say girl because I am in my 20s and the majority of my life thus far was spent as a "girl"). I don't think anyone would ever use the word "submissive" to describe me, but when I met my fiance and established a trusting relationship with him I found myself wanting to end the power-struggle I had encountered my whole life in past relationships with family, friends and exes. I showed my fiance this site and we talked about the things that we both wanted out of our relationship and our future marriage and the kind of dynamic we wanted to have. He respects, cherishes and loves me to the utmost, but is also take-charge and assertive in our relationship which makes me swoon. Giving up the power-struggle and giving someone who I trust and feel so safe and at home with the control in our relationship is so relieving. I think as women, we have the tendency to try and carry the world on our shoulders, so to have a place and a someone that you can surrender to can really create a balance that we so need. It is certainly a breath of fresh air for myself.