Yesterday afternoon, I had missed a call from a number I didn’t recognize, but looked local. There was no voicemail, so I left it. Then, I started to worry, because I haven’t gotten the paperwork from the doctor that the school needs just yet. I’d intended to do it on Monday, but had forgotten the kids had no school that day. Also, our daughter has been having problems with allergies and breaking out in hives out of nowhere. I decided it’s time to make her an appointment. So, I figured I could make one trip and “kill two birds with one stone”. My worry was that someone from school might’ve been calling to ask about this, and I hadn’t told Adam about what I’d decided to do. I checked in with him to see if I could gauge his mood. He seemed fine. He told me he was just real busy. Perfect, I thought, I can explain when he’s home and prevent any issues coming up now. And, that’s exactly what I did. We’d had a nice evening. We went for an extra long walk after supper. Things were great. While we were in the shower, that was my opportunity to talk alone with him. I told him about my plans and he wasn’t upset about it. As we were just getting out of the shower, he mentioned something about how he was glad I’d told him, and that it’s not an issue when I come to him and tell the truth. Then, he said something I wasn’t ready for. He brought up the doctor and how I’d at least made that phone call… To clarify why this made my heart skip a beat, I had not, in fact, spoken to the doctor. Several days ago, I’d spoken to the school nurse on the phone. When Adam questioned me about whether I’d called the doctor to get this taken care of, I told him I’d spoken to “the nurse”. I implied that, yes, I’d called the doctor’s office. I told him I needed to get something else signed off on by the doctor now and would be going in there on Monday. I didn’t do it Monday for the reasons I’ve mentioned already, which wasn’t a problem. The problem was that he specifically brought up the doctor’s office. It must’ve been written all over my face, because he gave me an intense stare and said “You lied to me? Did you lie to me?” I argued the best I could that I’d implied something. I’d sort of lied. I knew what they’d say to me, so I didn’t make that phone call. Why didn’t I just tell him that in the first place, I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t want to in case it was one of those things he would insist on and I didn’t want to have to do it. It’s the most stupid shit sometimes! Ridiculous crap that winds up becoming such a big issue because I hid it from Adam when it was a tiny issue. He wasn’t having any of my arguments about why it wasn’t exactly a lie. He was upset, maybe angry, but not mean. He went in our closet and brought his belt out. This belt that scares the heck out of me. This belt that he’s only threatened me with before. Playfully smacked me with it, but not punished me! He told me “Now this pisses me off”. I knew I wasn’t getting out of it. He was very serious. He wanted me to put my hands on the bathroom counter, away from where his belt would be swinging down. I could not make myself do that. I told him “I can’t do that.” Then, I sat down on the edge of our bath tub. As if I could’ve really saved myself by doing that… He scooped me up and I stayed in the fetal position with my knees tucked under my chin. It’s a bit of a blur to me what was happening or how, but I know he ended up sitting on the toilet lid with me in his lap. I knew I didn’t want to be swinging my head around. The bruise on my cheekbone is still a little blue from the last time he picked me up and I swung my head around and hit the corner of the wall hard. I was wearing only the towel I’d wrapped around myself after our shower, which slid up and offered my butt zero protection now. Every time he swung that belt down, I squeezed my arms tighter around his neck. My head laying on his shoulder like I’m hugging him. I know he asked me a question. Something along the lines of “Do you understand?” And, I knew the correct response was “yes, sir”. My stubbornness managed to eek out a little, because I only replied “yes”. I knew when he swung his belt back that I needed to tell him what he wanted to hear, so I said “yes, sir”. He asked me “what?” I said, “yes sir!” He still spanked me one last time. This morning, I can still feel exactly where his belt landed that time, too.
I don’t know if I really believed he’d spank me with that belt. I knew I didn’t want it. I wasn’t convinced he’d use it, though. I’m convinced now. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, but I found myself standing in front of him with my hand on my hip as if I was in control of the situation now. He was repeating to me that he was hurt that I’d lied to him. He knows it’s a dumb thing to lie about, but it takes trust away. My God, I couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t give him the “satisfaction” of crying tears or crying out when he spanked me, but having him look at me like that, and how hurt he was, it broke me. Seeing (and definitely still feeling) that he was not messing around was not so easy for me. I could literally feel my chin starting to quiver like a little kid does when they’re trying not to cry. I could no longer stop the tears. I felt like shit. It was also very apparent to me that this wasn’t easy for Adam, either. He felt bad, too. I do understand that position, because I’ve been there with our kids before. It isn’t fun to call out someone you love, and it definitely isn’t fun to punish them for it.
I didn’t sleep all that well last night. Adam held onto me all night. He was never cruel to me. I have zero ability to “win” when he stays calm and refuses to go along with my arguments. I have serious respect for him having the courage and strength to stand up to me. Having the wisdom to not allow me to change the subject or to anger him with my words so that he “stooped down” to my level and lost his authority in the moment. It’s a very attractive thing to see my husband like that. I am overwhelmed with emotions. I felt safe and afraid all at once when I knew he was serious with his belt in his hand. I felt unbelievably guilty when I knew he was serious. I felt quietly proud of him when I knew he was serious. I felt embarrassed and ashamed when I knew he was serious. I never felt anger. I knew he was 100% right for feeling and doing what he did. I knew I was wrong, even if I wouldn’t admit it then. I had these conflicting emotions, last night, in bed. He handled my shit and he did it in a way that worked. We didn’t fight with each other. He didn’t even raise his voice to me. Having seen (and felt) this gives me so much security because I know I can trust him. I know I can screw up, and I’ve seen that he knows exactly how to deal with it. How to avoid losing his authority in the heat of the moment and give away his own power. I don’t want him to get out that belt again. I especially don’t want him to be disappointed in me again. However, I’m fully aware that I’m a flawed human being, and I’m going to do and say stupid shit again. Hopefully not in the near future, but certainly, it’ll happen. When that happens, I do want him to always be able to make me feel this way again. Not because it’s fun. Because it works. He never once made me feel like he didn’t love me. He never once insulted me. I only felt sorry. Not angry or hurt (besides maybe my ass). We went to bed calmly. He didn’t withdraw from me. There was no yelling and nobody slept out on the couch or threatened to leave.
All I want to do now is show Adam how much I love him. I want him to be proud of me. I want him to be able to trust me when I tell him something. I don’t like to make him angry. I hate to know he’s disappointed in me. I do not like his belt when he’s serious with it. I am so lucky to have someone who I can always know wants the best for me. He’s never selfish. I am, sometimes, selfish. I admire him. I hope he isn’t still feeling so disappointed in me today. I think he knows I’m truly sorry. I want him to know I’m also thankful for him, and very proud of him, too.