​Long-distance Daddy

Having a long distance relationship is difficult, no matter what the dynamic. Add in D/s, DDlg, bad cell service, poly and mental illness and it can be a recipe for disaster.

Granted, things are far easier today than they were 20 years ago when we dependence on pagers & landlines. But it’s still not for the faint of heart.

It’s difficult to tell what a person is really thinking or feeling when you can’t see or hear them. Sarcasm doesn’t translate well over text.

And it’s especially hard when you have anxiety and trust issues. Every time there’s a misunderstanding or miscommunication, I start worrying about if He’s REALLY happy with me or just going through the motions.

If He’s REALLY happy or just settling until He finds something better.

I KNOW it’s not true.  I KNOW that He loves me. The sheer number of times we’ve gotten back together. If He didn’t love me, if I wasn’t who He wanted, He would keep trying. Right?

I thought getting Daddy to give me rules would help. And knowing the expectations does make things easier. But what good are rules without punishments for breaking them?

I’m  ready for this. All of it. I’ve been wanting a D/s dynamic since we met. I’ve been waiting for Him to merge the ‘women are delicate/I can’t do that/that’s wrong’ part with the ‘if everyone involved consents & wants this it’s all good’ parts of His brain.

If life has taught me anything it’s taught me that you can’t live your life to please other people. You have to do what makes YOU happy. Being submissive, being controlled, being punished when I break Daddy’s rules, having someone to protect me (even from myself) is comforting for me. Knowing my place, having a purpose, being an essential part of someone’s life gives me peace of mind, quiets the monsters in my head.

Every time He wraps his hand around my throat & growls “MINE”. I feel a little safer. Every time He pulls me close & kisses my forehead, I feel a little more secure. Every time He touches me & asks “who do you belong to?”, my demons get a little bit weaker.

As usual, this ended up somewhere different from where it started out. But that’s life.

Dear Daddy

I am NOT trying to be manipulative/bitchy/bratty/snotty/snarky. I’m TRYING to tell you honestly and in the simplest words I can find how I feel and what I want and need from you.

I’m sure that you’ll notice I’m writing this instead of talking. That’s because you’ve expressed dislike with my habit for long pauses when I try to find the words I need to say things differently than I used to.

I’ve taken to heart everything you said to me over the last few months. I listen and I’m trying very hard to change myself into the perfect babygirl for you.

I’m sorry that I’m not doing a good enough job

I’m sorry that my broken messed up brain can’t remember what you say so I ask the same questions over and over again

I’m sorry that I bring up things that you said not to
I’m sorry that I’m so frustrating
I’m sorry that my need for reassurance is annoying

I’m sorry that I can’t express myself very well
I’m sorry that I’m so needy and annoying

I’m sorry that my anxiety and my demons are too much

You’re not the only one who gets frustrated and angry and upset with my need for reassurance My need for attention

My need for too much of your time
Even my mom gets sick of me

I’m sorry that I give you long, complicated answers what you want are short, simple ones
I’m sorry

I’m sorry

I’m sorry
I’m sorry that I’m always apologizing

I’m sorry that when I’ve tried to tell you how I feel it comes out sounding like I’m giving you an ultimatum or that I’m jealous, or like the horrible old me that you would like to forget.

​I must be an emotional masochist. I continually put myself in situations (especially in relationships) that are usually always guaranteed to trigger my issues.

All my life, I’ve been that “weird girl” the “family freak”. Not quite the one in the corner eating her hair, but sometimes not very far off. Before the Internet, my friends lived between two covers. They lived lives that were both fantastic and mundane, had adventures and travelled and were ALWAYS happy to see me. Nowadays, they live online, and we will probably never meet.

In the real world, I was (and still am) a freak. The socially awkward nerd with her nose stuck in a book. I can tell you how and why the Roman Empire fell. Understand and discuss the impact of global events on local politics. But I can’t bring myself to talk to my neighbors.

Compliments embarrass me. I’m a klutz. I don’t believe anyone really gives a damn. So when you ask me what’s wrong, I say “nothing”.

I’ve tried talking to you about all this few times. But you cut me off every time, frustrated with me because I brought up something you don’t want to talk about.

So this time, I wrote it down, hopefully, you will read the whole thing




I love you

Perhaps far too much for my own good sometimes. I have loved you from the moment I met you, maybe even before that

I fell in love with the little boy that you want to forget

I fell in love with the techy geek

I fell in love with the man who spent far too long trying to save me from myself and nearly destroyed himself  in the process

YOU are my safe space
Your VOICE silences my demons
Your TOUCH quiets the storm in my head
Your WORDS can either build me up or destroy me
Your ATTENTION  (or lack thereof) will either slay the dragon or make him stronger

You’ve told me over and over again that all you want is the sweet, innocent girl you met almost 20 years ago

She’s right here

But what I need for you to realize is that if you want me to KEEP the babygirl you love so much, I need a few things from you.

  • Please don’t wait hours (or days) to answer texts/calls/messages. Especially after we’ve argued. When I don’t hear from you, I begin to doubt not ONLY the things you’ve said but myself

  • Honesty-please don’t lie to me (or tell me what you think I want to hear). Not even little white lies. Because when I find out, it’s the lie itself that will hurt. Not the ugly truth it was trying to hide

  • Consistency-Just like a routine helps me feel grounded and level, knowing what to expect from my Daddy will help me feel safe. 2+2 needs to = 4. EVERY TIME. It can’t mean something different based on where you are.

  • Communication-When you tell me something and I asked for details (what/where/when)I’m not trying to be difficult or to trap you. I’m asking you to help me keep my anxiety in check by giving me facts to focus on. When you leave me in the dark, with no information, I start to doubt EVERYTHING  you’ve told me

Regardless of what else is going on, we’ve always been able to talk about anything and everything. I understand that there are some things that you don’t want to talk about. Tell me that instead of just shutting me out

  • Punishment– that pain isn’t your thing, but when I break the rules, do something wrong, or don’t do something I’m supposed to, I need you to enforce whatever punishment we’ve agreed on

  • Please don’t take advantage of my memory problems. My father does that quite often. I don’t forget things on purpose. When I ask you something over and over, or I don’t remember something you’ve told me, I’m not trying to be difficult or manipulative. I genuinely do not remember. Or it may be that I’m looking for reassurance that I remember it correctly.

  • Please don’t abuse the trust I have in you. When I was young, my dad was the sun, the moon and the stars to me.  I trusted him ABSOLUTELY.  When he broke that trust, it shattered me. It’s been a VERY long time since I have allowed myself to be vulnerable. About 19 years to be exact.

Being GIVEN my submission is a privilege. A privilege that NO ONE else has ever had. I’ve had it taken, but never given it willingly.

Looking back, I’m realizing that all those times I was pushing the limits, out-of-control, I was kinda trying to manipulate you into being who you’ve become. The man who calls me on my shit, who pushes me, loves me, protects me and punishes me.

I loved the sweet boy you were then. I love the strong man you’ve become even more.

I Almost Lost it All

The post I started on Friday was a VERY different one than what you’re getting right now. That one was all about my wonderfully enlightened, cosmopolitan attitudes about being in a non-monogamous relationship. 

How woefully naive I was. Here; see for yourself.

“Someone made a comment to me the other day about my relationship with Him. “Aren’t you jealous?” they asked, referring to the open nature of our relationship.

“NO. Why would I be?” was my answer. But the question got me thinking. About Love, monogamy, societal pressure and what it is that I really want.

Looking back, our relationship didn’t start out monogamous. That first year, when we were apart, we both slept with other people. Neither of us minded, neither looked at it as cheating. Because we had talked about it BEFORE anything happened.”

There was more to it, but that’s the part that matters. Like I said, woefully naive. And that naiveté nearly blew my relationship to hell in a handbasket.

I really don’t have a problem with an open relationship. To me sex is just a physical activity between two consenting adults. I have no problem if He wanted to have sex with other women. I was totally secure on my pedestal.  Sure that no one could EVER take my place.

And no one really can. But they can make me share. This weekend I met the woman who holds that other piece of His heart. I didn’t know much about her before we came face to face. Name, rank & serial number as it were. And she knew the same about me. What I didn’t realize was the full extent of His feelings for her.

Honestly, I liked her right away. If I had met her somewhere we would get along great. But seeing them together hit me in a way I never could have predicted and didn’t understand when it happened.

When I saw them together, saw Him look at her, touch her, treat her the same way He does me, all my insecurities came rushing in. All my anxieties started screaming in my head

She’s prettier/skinnier/younger.
She’s never hurt Him the way you have.
She can do those things that I can’t
She’s better in bed.
She’s not broken

I was afraid. Afraid that someday He’s going to decide that I’m too much trouble. That my broken body and brain, my anxieties and insecurities would become too much to handle and someday He would walk away for good. Not very logical or very adult of me.

And it wasn’t ADULT me that reacted, it was LITTLE me. In that moment I was the proverbial kid who didn’t want to share their favorite toy. And I threw a temper tantrum. And every demon I have gleefully joined in the chaos.

In letting my emotional demons drive the car, I threw out my hard won serenity, that calm center that being submissive gives me. I yanked back the wheel of control and ran Him over with the car for good measure.

By doing so, I nearly lost everything.  

Maybe it had to happen to get to where we ended up.  Which was me & her sitting down and talking. Figuring out that we both love Him for the same reasons. He is that unshakable foundation, the calm in the eye of a hurricane, absolute unconditional love. He is strength, protection and shelter. He is comfort and safety. He is EVERYTHING a daddy is supposed to be.

‘WE’ walked away with a place to begin. And I walked away with a little more insight into what I need out of this whole relationship.