Talk to me

A phrase I often tell her. I want her to talk to me, tell me if she has any concerns or doubts. At first it wasn't easy for P to open up and tell me how she felt. The diaries were the easiest way, but it took time for her true thoughts to come through. Those little dark desires and fantasies that have been lurking in the back of the mind, suppressed for a lifetime. Once we established her boundaries, she found it easier to open up. When we had our first session together, she was hesitant and unable to truly find her voice. Now she is more confident and we can discuss whether a particular scene has worked or not. I am always the one encouraging her to find her voice and talk to me.

Then why couldn't I talk to her? Oh I could send instructions, make lists of protocols, tell her session plans, guide her in the maze of this truly wonderful world in which we have more than dipped our toes into. But what was in my heart, I couldn't tell her. The weekend she stayed for the first session was nerve wracking for both of us. And I was tongue tied. Completely and utterly hopeless. I knew she was too and it was only right that I should be the one to take the lead. I shouldn't be ashamed to open up and tell her how special this moment was, how precious she was to me, how my heart was singing at the thought of what was going to happen. That I was scared, I was petrified of failure, of letting her down, of being weak. Of being human. We walked along the beach and just held hands, but no words were spoken. The romantic might say no words were needed, but they would be wrong. It was like being on the cliff edge and taking the leap off together. But we couldn't tell each other that. And I certainly couldn't tell her anything.

It took more than one meeting before we could start to talk face to face. We managed the breakthrough a couple of months ago when P brought some of her books along. We sat on the sofa reading them and discussing them, what turned us on (or off), techniques and the subject of training. I realised there were so many things we still had to learn and that when P and I were apart, she would need to keep the momentum going. And that meant training. Giving P tasks and ensuring she updated me on her progress. Once this invisible wall had been breached, we talked non-stop. All the fears vanished. Now we can't seem to stop talking!

We converse most nights through online chat, though I am considering a web cam. This seems to instill fear and excitement in equal measure for P. It in no way implies that I don't trust her. But it will give her a chance to show off a bit. I may have to use my powers of persuasion! Or I could just be teasing her, she doesn't know. But for me, talking to P has been far harder than I ever imagined. Talking to P privately will always be a problem as she shares her home with another person. Typing in chat is easier than speaking on the phone where she could be overheard. And I am always conscious of that.

When we are together, just on the sofa, or walking down the street, or wherever, we are just two people. Neither is dominant or submissive at that time. I thought we could always share things between us no matter where or when. It wasn't as easy as that. It has taken time for me to get the confidence and inner strength to truly open up, not just to her but to myself. Remember I wrote in an earlier blog that standing in front of the mirror and seeing myself as dominant was scary and something I couldn't equate to me. Well talking is the same thing. Saying the words out loud are scary. How I feel, what makes me go wild inside, what turns me off, what I miss about P when she's not here. All these things and more. To speak the words out loud is scary but also an admission of who I am. That's even scarier.

So it's not just a case of P talking to me, so I can ensure her safety and well being. Not just so that I know what buttons to push. I need to talk too. I need to be open and honest. Not just to her but to myself. That's why its taken me almost 6 months to accept who I am to myself. But a lot of that has come about through talking to P and to Jay. And now this blog has become an extension of that. This blog is me, talking. Talking to myself, and to her. So that when I just can't find the words, she can read them here.