I have sent my completed assignment to my Teacher.
My Teacher read my essay. I am excited, he said he was impressed. I am so happy what I wrote pleased him, including the content, not just that I exceeded the word count or that I had turned it in early. I have to admit. Having someone approve my deepest thoughts is invigorating. I’ve not had anyone be so accepting or even so encouraging of me to spill everything I know and feel. I have been looking for someone who not only was willing but also thrived on learning everything about me. I don’t mean just the good things, but everything and yet still approve of me. It is a heady feeling. It gives me goose bumps to know my Sir wants this as much as I do.
My Sir and I spoke tonight through chat for the first time. I was so nervous. Excited and nervous. It took a bit for my nerves to calm, he helped me with breathing and then of course just talking together was nice. Learning about him as the conversation flowed. I have to admit, I am enjoying some of the mystery of him. I’m not anxious to know all the details. I want us to slowly discover each other like one would in peeling back the layers of a sweet onion. There is an ageless feel to him, sometimes as if he is young and other times as if he is older than me. He offered to help me with my daughter so I explained the situation in more detail. He gave suggestions which made more sense than what I was trying to do. I can’t do this write-up justice right now, I am wiped out from talking with my Sir. I need sleep. I will return to my journal in the morning. My evening ritual will be a short one tonight.
**note, it is morning and I just read what I wrote last night, In mid paragraph I jumped from talking about my chat with my Sir to suddenly talking about an email discussion we had earlier in the day regarding the disciplining of my daughter. It was a good thing I stopped writing in my journal, I could feel it becoming disjointed last night even as I was writing it. I am so much clearer in my head this morning.**
I woke about forty-five minutes ago. My sleep wasn’t quite as broken up as it has been the past few nights. However, I woke feeling pain in my left shoulder similar to what I felt in the past when I had started incorporating walking into my daily routine. An aggravated nerve my chiropractor said. I may need to go see him earlier than planned.
Last night after chatting with my Sir, I was so tired. I had trouble concentrating on what I wanted to say in my journal, so I finally gave up, did my kneeling ritual for a couple minutes and went to bed. I think I fell asleep almost immediately.
It was my first conversation with my Sir outside of emails. I’m glad I had work keeping me busy for most of the evening before our scheduled talk. I didn’t have time to become overly nervous. My work finished just before we were to connect in chat, and so I sent my Sir an email stating my work was complete and I was available. My Sir sent me an email stating he would be delayed one hour. I ate my dinner while my daughter watched Sherlock Holmes which kept my thoughts away from dwelling on my nervousness or conjuring all sorts of ideas about how my first conversation would go with my Sir.
The moment finally came where I received the notice of a request to accept a new friend. I chose to move myself and my computer into my room for some privacy and to avoid as much distraction as I could from my daughter. This worked beautifully. I was able to devote my full attention to my Sir during our conversation. He knew right off I was nervous and helped me with breathing. He was very easy to talk with and we talked about all sorts of things. I learned quite a bit about him. Where he was born, that he likes to cook, likes good spicy foods. We spoke about my life growing up and how I had to learn on my own about politics, and that my ideas of relationships were based on my Christian upbringing in a Baptist church. He seemed surprised my parents did not speak of politics. So, I explained to him that my parents didn’t speak of much of anything. Communication was one of those things when I was growing up that consisted of telling the children what to do, when to do it, and if you are lucky how to do it. Oh and where to be, like in bed or in our rooms.
I did not want the conversation to end however it was getting late for my Sir, and as much as I enjoyed talking with him, I realized I was becoming very tired. The combination of not sleeping well, the nervous adrenalin of our first real discussion and I started crashing. It was apparent when I didn’t address him properly as we were saying good night. He understood.
There is a lot I still don’t know about my Sir. I am finding the mystery to be intriguing. Taking my time to find little things out about him as we talked instead of doing the typical questions when two people meet who have never seen each other. When I used to chat in chat rooms, and someone would send me a private chat, I disliked the obvious questions about age, race, etc. that everyone always asked. These are superficial things that have little to no bearing on the inner person. When I would refuse to answer most would just go away, end the private chat. It isn’t that I have anything to hide. It is just I wanted more than just a superficial discussion. I wanted someone who genuinely wanted to know me and that age, race, religion or even my sex was not a critical factor in getting to know me. So I made a point of not asking those questions of my Sir.
As we sat and talked I learned more about him, in time I’ll learn even more. I sometimes wish he were closer to me so we could sit face to face however I know things happen for a reason and right now this is what is right for me. In person, I would probably freeze up. I’ve been trying to think why that is, and all I can come up with is it may be because of sensory overload. Too much coming at me too fast. My brain processes things but not very quickly, it sort of savors them, molls them about, tries to understand the feelings which become invoked. I’ve had different responses from people when this happens to me. Some think I’m reserved and closed off. Others think I’m not interested. While others though no one says, think I’m probably rather slow. Most have no patience for waiting for me to gather my thoughts and respond, which can be frustrating, and I think at times pretty rude. Most men I’ve gotten into serious relationships with have been after I have known them for a while, not exactly as friends but where I’ve become comfortable around them where those blocks or whatever they are which cause my brain to shut down, no longer occur.
This did happen to me when my Sir first started the conversation in chat last night. After his hello, I just couldn’t think of what to say, so when he asked me how I was doing, I just told him I was good and breathing. He understood immediately that I was nervous which I admitted to when he asked and then told him I was also having trouble thinking. I’ve always had problems like this and to have someone understand them and help me get through them is a very pleasant feeling. He was actually flattered by my nervousness. Him, a dominant man, I could not believe would find my nervousness flattering and yet he did. I’ve been around other men who made me nervous and most I would say thought it silly, or a sign of my insecurity. Maybe it is my insecurity that makes me nervous but it is a sign of how much I do not want to disappoint my Sir.
Speaking of disappointment, I was concerned when I turned in my assignment that he might find my brain dump of what submission meant to me, a bit, I don’t know, beyond normal. That he might consider me ‘weird’. When I started writing my essay I had no idea what I was going to say. I had first considered trying to keep to what I had read about submission but I knew that wouldn’t work. Though much of what I read about submission made sense and I understood it, what I felt was much deeper than that and in some cases far different from what I read. I have thought about posting my assignment here in my journal, I’m not sure I want to expose myself at that level and yet, I would be interested in hearing what other submissives thought about what my submission means to me. This is something I will need to think upon.
Overall, my evening last night was wonderful. I am looking forward to more conversations with my Sir.
I have my schedule worked up to send to him. I had worked on it yesterday during breaks from work, and it was almost ready to go when work demanded my attention for the night and then my chat date with my Sir. I will be sending shortly as I get ready to post my journal entry. Today, I have no plans other than to work with my daughter on cleaning house. A chore I really dislike doing but it needs to be done. My Sir said he would enjoy watching. Hahaha I told him it would be more fun if he joined in. I don’t think I convinced him. *pout*
Until next time readers, have a nice day.
I went back to edit my journal entries I was planning on posting and realized I left out or rather started to talk about the earlier part of my day however, since my brain was exhausted that entry was becoming unclear and disjointed.
What I had wanted to add in my journal was how my Sir had read my email about being angry and having to discipline my daughter. He offered to help and asked for more details. I sent those to him and he responded with suggestions. Even telling me why my approach might not be working. This all helped me to see the situation with a better perspective and to attack it from a different angle, one of a more positive approach. His suggestion for her to create her own schedule and if she keeps to the schedule for a week to acknowledge her hard work with something positive, he used the word reward and I understood why he suggested not using that term when discussing it with her. I decided to tell her I would find a way to thank her for her hard work if she did good for a week and that the week started today which was last night. She did very good last night doing the chores I assigned her and catching up on the ones she had not done. She has more for today as we work on cleaning the house together.
My Sir’s offer to help took me a minute to really comprehend what it meant for me. I have been a single mother since my daughter was two and half years old. I have had no support from anyone and in most cases I was the support for others I knew who were having trouble with their own children, mostly due to inconsistency in disciplining. Yeah, I know, that seems contradictory since the problem I’m having now is due to my inconsistency in disciplining my daughter. However, I was very consistent with her in her early years because I understood the importance of not waiting until she had reached her later years in trying to get her to obey. She is a good daughter. Others comment on what a wonderful girl she is. She is complemented all the time on how well she behaves. The only trouble I really have with her is what I have mentioned in my journal and really has to do with her learning to manage her time and do her chores. This is why my Sir suggested she should learn how to create her own schedule and keep to it. This way she will feel she has some control over her life. It was also apparent last night that my making a list for her of details as to what she is to do helped her significantly in accomplishing and keeping track of what her duties were last night. I will have her incorporate this into her schedule and anything new I assign her I will make sure she is given details of what is expected of her.
Now I must go. Yesterday was just an amazing day. It feels good to enjoy my life again.