It’s funny how when you first embark on something new and unfamiliar you find yourself trying to predict what will befall you. Sometimes, I try to think of the most absurd things happening and then try to plan ahead for that. I am a planner with things that are important to me. I try to live life as freely as possible. I often take a ‘Carpe Diem’ stance on most things.
But, if I’ve closed my eyes and pointed to a map to find my next destination place, I spend hours planning on what I’ll do there. I’m a detail person. I also am a list maker (if you haven’t noticed here in my blog). I like seeing things visually written out for me to better grasp what’s going on, what will happen, and to also make sure I’m not forgetting anything that might make a difference. Six years ago when I decided I was going to give being a Mistress a real shot I was scared. Frightened, kept awake at night at the very thought that this was something beyond the unknown and unfamiliar.
This would be changing the very essence of my life around to include something that I felt I wanted to partake in on a more serious level. I did spend innumerable amounts of time thinking of all the things good and bad that could happen. I wanted to be fully prepared for whatever this BDSM world had to throw at me. Most importantly I wanted to learn. I wanted to take in everything there was. I wanted to see, smell, touch, spank, and immerse myself fully into the lifestyle. And no, it didn’t happen all at once. It’s been 6 years and I am still learning. I am still finding out new things about the lifestyle and most certainly myself. In all my lists, planning, writing, and brainstorming, and what-ifs, I never thought of the one challenge I have stumbled upon.
What if I fall in love?
What if I find a slave that I cherish and love and want to spend more than just Mistress/slave time with? What if this person makes me laugh and smile? What if the very thought of this person’s scent gives me butterflies in my stomach? What if a day without this person feels empty? What if I hurt that person? What if nothing I could do would make them fully recover?
What if love just isn’t enough?
I pride myself on being a logical woman. I don’t cry over spilled milk easily. I most certainly don’t get frantic about clothing and how other females view me. I don’t need attention from men to know I love myself and I am beautiful. And that’s the funny thing about love…it make make a sane woman rather crazy. It literally turns the logical into the illogical. Feeling and doing are now on two separate ends of the spectrum. It seems logical: If my slave and I are having trouble, fix it. The end. It’s not that cut and dry. Sometimes fixing an emotional problem takes more than emotional duct tape. This is the very thing I sometimes feared when life was mundane but forgot to include when the Mistress part of me took over.
Sometimes, love just might not be enough….
…and there are no comforting words to make you feel any better.