Last week, I was trying to make a decision. I knew Master would want input on the decision. I did ask Him, although I asked via a text message that I sent late in the evening.

I didn’t get a reply. I thought of what would make Master comfortable saying yes. I contemplated whether to wait or go ahead. I weighed the “risks” (how far my decision would have an impact, whether Master would approve, etc.), and I decided to go ahead without hearing from Master.

Well, I caught Master by surprise (and not in a good way). Ultimately, He didn’t ask me to backtrack on the decision but was very clear: He wanted to be aware of such things before they happened.

What was interesting to me was my reaction – or to be more accurate – my two, different reactions.

On one hand, I started to panic. That part of me that always seems worried I’m going to displease Him surfaced. I kicked myself for not following my first instinct to ask and for not having the patience to wait for His answer. I wanted to text Him later that day and ask, “Are you mad at me?” I was in a needy, begging for assurance state.

Deeper inside me, I was having another reaction. I was calm. My calculated reasoning that it was OK to proceed missed the mark. I got clear feedback on what He does want in a case like this, and this part of me noted it for future reference. I smiled at this relatively small example of my will and His Will. I was in a self-assured, content state, and I decided any “mistake” I made in this regard was just part of our path together.

In the grand scheme of things, I’d say this is a relatively minor incident. We have not discussed it since, and in some ways it isn’t even worth noting. What strikes me about this, though, is the two different reactions. It is an example and sheds more awareness on how I sometimes feel like two different people.

Master called me in between meetings this morning. He said he was thinking about me…about punishment, restriction, me flooding the bed and all the ways He could fuck me. It put a silly grin on my face that I’ve had all day long.

I reach behind my neck and rub the clasp of His collar. I am owned…and really nothing could make me happier.

It was the second time this week that I felt His ownership of me tingle through me and fill me up. We had this text message exchange on Monday where I shared that I still had bruises from sex on Friday.

So then, why do I still struggle with the thought of being an object?

Sometimes I think I’m in a dream, exploring territory few dare to go. I’ll be riding along and a part of me jolts and wonders when this dream bubble is going to pop. I find myself wanting to be prepared. I want to make sure I don’t crash into the ground when it does burst.

It’s not like the essence of this struggle is endemic only to M/s. Women have found themselves in this situation a lot (especially my mother’s generation) where making a man their world sets them up for a fall. My own mother left college to marry my father only to find herself nine years later having to get a job that would support herself and two kids and finding limited, low paying choices. I saw her fall, and I’ve seen others fall.

I know I’m not in this type of situation. I have my degree; I run a successful business; I no longer see my submissiveness and my independence as mutually exclusive. Still, I sometimes panic.

From Day One, He’s told me I don’t have to compromise. Both my submissiveness and my independence make up the essence of who I am. He values all of me, and He wouldn’t find me attractive if I didn’t have both.

As I go down this path toward being His slave, I’m discovering more about myself that surprises me. Deeper needs to be used, to be humiliated, to experience extreme pain are surfacing. As I let these desires see the light of day, they sometimes feel overwhelming, and I wonder if the scale is tipping too far toward being just an object.

I’ll fantasize that His power will drown out this voice inside me that panics. I imagine that He has the power to remove the struggle within me instead of realizing I have the power to surrender.

I trust Him more than I ever have right now, and the trust inside myself is growing more and more.

Sometimes I think He is more comfortable with my independence than I am.

It’s not really that I’m uncomfortable with my independence. Quite the contrary. I’m very familiar with it. It’s the drive behind actions such as moving out-of-state to go to college and starting my own business. It’s demonstrated in my thirst for knowledge and continual learning. It’s my strength when I know that circumstances around me aren’t quite right, and it compels me to transform my world in search of my desires and ideals.

It’s also what I cling to when I feel out of control. It’s where I retreat when I feel stuck. It’s what I lean on when I think I have nothing else to lean on. It’s in these moments I feel uncomfortable with my submissiveness.

For most of my life, my submissiveness has been something to contain…to manage. Submissiveness is not valued in society in general. Top that with early experiences where one’s submissiveness suffered abuse, and it becomes something you just want to hide.

When I hear His voice, I don’t want to hide. Quite the contrary. I feel a deep sense of freedom when I follow His direction…freedom to be who I am.

Sometimes the way I respond to Him utterly surprises me…not in what I say or do (although that can be surprising in and of itself) but in its naturalness. I respond from such an honest and pure place. There’s no struggle here – no crisis of confidence. I just am.

So, what’s happening when I do struggle? He always says I have a choice. It seems so contradictory. I know it is my choice to submit, but after that am I not supposed to be relieved of the struggle over choice?

When I find myself ”overly pleasing,” I’m either so anxious to be pleasing Him that I think more will be even better, or I’m not sure I am pleasing Him so I start fishing for what will. I also find myself saying in these times (either explicitly or implicitly), “Tell me what to do.” It’s in these moments I feel uncomfortable with my independence.

He told me early on in our relationship that submission is in the mind and doesn’t require chains to enforce itself. I didn’t fully understand what he meant at the time.

My submission is not something that comes from external command. My submission comes from deep within me. It’s not something I have to chase or capture. I just have to connect and allow. What emerges is the clay which He has the opportunity to mold and shape through His direction and discipline, bringing form and substance to my essence. As my essence takes the shape He envisions, my independent choices reflect my submission to Him.

He knows this better than I do, but my understanding is budding.