What About Us?

Yesterday, I was in the mood to bake. I made some apple crisp and baked some chocolate chip cookies. I’m like a “Suzy Homemaker”, apron and all. Except that, the music I have playing, in the kitchen, is Samson “What About Us”, followed by songs like ACAL “Gumbo” and “Hallelujah”….Not the 1950s housewives type of songs you’d hear 😆

Today is Friday! Adam works tomorrow, and then we’re going over to my Pops place for some barbecued ribs, and then, a fun guitar night outside with our friends. I’ve been looking so forward to it! My only worry, is that, nights like this, with a bunch of our friends, I tend to get extra sassy toward Adam. I don’t know why? I guess I’m just showing off because our friends see me as a “bad bitch”. As in, tough, bossy, tell it like I see it. They’re not wrong. I shouldn’t talk to Adam like that, though. He’s let it go, most always. Lately, though…I have a feeling that’s not going to happen. I’m going to try extra hard to be respectful to Adam. The last thing I want, is to get picked up and carried off to get a spanking! He never wants to embarrass me, but he also isn’t tolerating my bullshit, so I’m fairly certain he would do it. There’s generally a warning. He will tell me “keep it up”. This pretty much means, “fuck around and find out”. I’d rather not.

The weather here is looking like it’s going to be a gorgeous weekend. Here’s hoping it’s nothing but happy and fun for everybody!

I’m Not a “Submissive”

I’m a little bit confusing, sometimes, even to myself. I’m just not one of those ladies who’s, very often, cool with saying “whatever you say, dear”. I’m very stubborn, hard headed, incredibly sassy. I’m actually pretty good at being funny. I make my family and friends laugh, a lot. They also know me as someone who ain’t afraid to tell ya what I think. I have no problem standing up for myself or the people that I love. I didn’t seek out a man like Adam. At least, not consciously? I never had to ask him to be who he is. He’s never asked me not to be who I am, either. He knows damn well how I roll! I think he’s attracted to it, most times. He’s never suggested that he wants to “change me”. He wants me to treat him the same way as I, honestly, want to treat him. It’s what I want when the rational, calm, reasonable, sane “me” is in charge of my thoughts and my actions.

In a way that’s difficult to explain in words, I think that I subconsciously want people to fear me. Like, I need them to know they can’t fuck with me. I will fight you, and I will win. That’s not to suggest that I haven’t lost any “fights”. That’s the point. If a dog growls and barks, most people are afraid and just stay the hell away from them. It often works to just appear intimidating. This is built into me. I defy anyone who tries to tell me to do something I don’t want to do. These things make it difficult for me to “allow” Adam to lead if I don’t feel like it. It truly isn’t because I think it’s funny to be an asshole. I don’t enjoy disappointing my husband. I might be even more proud of myself, when I do something right, that was hard for me, than Adam is! It takes a whole lot for me to “submit” to him, even in small ways, sometimes. I do want to! I love to make Adam feel good. Good about me, and especially about himself. He’s probably the most patient man I’ve ever known. Thank God, because I would frustrate the living hell out of most guys who expect a wife who follows their lead. That just ain’t me, always. Sometimes it is. I can be the things both Adam and I are looking for. I have to work so hard to get there, though. This is why I used the analogy about the bag of marbles and how, Adam pulls one out every time I screw up, and eventually, I’ll run out of marbles. Then what? Will he throw his hands up and say “she’s never going to get there”, and walk away? You’d think these fears would encourage me to stop screwing up! It’s just not that easy!

I truly do appreciate that he’s calling me out. I don’t always enjoy it, but I do appreciate it. There are times, just hours after he’s spanked me for something, I’ll fucking do it again, and I’m in my own head thinking “what the hell is wrong with you?!” I have to decide whether to be honest, which is very important to both of us, or whether it’s too dangerous to admit this screw up, now? I’m not going to pretend like I’m not afraid of what might happen to my behind, because I definitely am, but I’m also deeply afraid that he will be so disappointed, so frustrated, he will give up on me. If I hold a secret in, even one so stupid that it’s ridiculous, it eats away at me so bad. For reasons I don’t even understand, I’ll get angry. I’ll take it out on, of all people, Adam. Stupid? Yes. Logical? Nope. But, it’s what the hell I do!

I worry that maybe Adam will start to pay too much attention. Maybe he’ll start to see things in me that he can’t “fix”. I understand that I’m never going to be perfect. That’s impossible. I just worry that my imperfections will be so highlighted, he’ll think I’m too much. These are my thoughts when I have to tell him I did something that I know he isn’t going to be happy about. Well, I think about what he’s going to do, too. Like, how mad is he, really? Am I going to have to sleep on my stomach? Is he just trying to scare me, and my ass is fine? Did I fuck up so bad, that now he’s just done trying? He can assure me every five minutes that he won’t give up on me, and it still doesn’t seem to change this thought process for me. We were trying to figure out an approximate amount of times we’ve had sex, the other night. We guessed somewhere around 4,000 times. Even still, sometimes, I worry that he won’t find me attractive. So, by that logic, I may screw up and get 4,000 spankings and still be afraid he’s going to get tired of my bullshit!

I think I have made big improvements. I have brought so much more to Adam than I would’ve ever done, not too long ago. I do trust him. My gosh, I really do. Why can’t I trust that he won’t leave me the next time I screw up? That’s dumb. I know it. Logical, rational, sane me knows it. There’s this piece of me that I can’t quite seem to “fix”, or maybe “heal”?

I don’t know if I’ll ever stop doing the shit I do. My realistic goal, is to do it much less. Believe it or not, I am getting there. It’s kind of sad how much unacceptable crap I have been accustomed to doing, until recently. Adam is insisting that I don’t keep doing some of the things that I’ve literally always done. I can’t change, overnight. That doesn’t mean I’m not trying to do better. To be better. I am.

Tuesday Wasn’t Monday

Adam and my text messages from Monday were not as light hearted and fun as they were yesterday!

Tuesday was a much better day.

I was in an ornery mood, yesterday afternoon. Then, last night, Jackie and I sat and watched a bunch of her old TikTok’s from game nights we had the last few years. When the weather gets cold, we will have a bunch of family and friends over and play games. Some of them are hilarious to play with a group. We love the shenanigans! We were having so much fun watching those, Adam finally had to come in and tell me it was time to go take our shower, because it was getting late. We always have good talks when we’re showering. I told Adam that, I sometimes feel afraid that I’m too much. Like, there’s a bag of marbles and, every time I get in trouble with him, one of them is taken out. Eventually, you run out of marbles. He assured me that was not the case. That he would never give up on me. He reminded me of how often I do things right, and that, I’m human, I’m going to fuck up. I needed to hear that.

Today, I’m heading to my sister’s house to help her work on my baby niece’s nursery. Miss PJ will be here in just a few weeks! My poor sister is so heavily pregnant and swollen and miserable. I went through a phase, a couple years ago, where I was really wanting to have another baby. Adam finally told me, “if you really want to, let’s do it”. Then, I panicked and told him, it’s much easier when you say no! I’m excited to have my baby niece close by. Now, I can get my “baby fix” without having to go through the hard stuff my sister is!

Mysterious New Belt

I know I already posted today, but I have to write about this…

Yesterday afternoon, Adam told me “don’t even think about hiding my belt”. I had already hidden it away. I replied “or what? You’re gonna spank me with the belt you can’t find?”

After he had spanked me (with his hand), he walked over by our laundry hamper and brought out another belt. At first, I asked “you found it??” Then, I could tell it wasn’t the belt because I saw the hook on it wasn’t the same. I let out a sigh of relief, until he informed me this one would hurt, too. He had it in his hand the entire time he sat in front of me, on the floor, talking. He did not spank me with it, thankfully. He did, however, make me give him back the belt. I didn’t spend anymore time wondering about it, until this morning. As I was taking our bedding off the bed so I could throw it in the wash, I looked on top of Adam’s dresser and noticed two belts. I remembered the one from last night. As I examined it, I realized it is actually THICKER and HEAVIER than the belt is! Now, I knew he used to have a worn out old one, but I thought we’d gotten rid of it. This one is neither worn out, nor old. I have no clue where Adam got it.

The one in front is *the* belt. The one behind it is the mystery belt.

Did I Deserve It? Yes. I Guess.

I always pay our bills on Fridays. This past Friday, though, I was busy packing and getting ready for our weekend trip. I’d decided to put that off until Monday. Yesterday morning, I opened my planner and started to pay bills that were due. I’ve never ever been late on anything before. Unfortunately, I hadn’t looked on Friday to see that our water and gas bill was due that day. Apparently, there is no grace period, either, because I got hit with a “late fee” of just over $20. I texted Adam and I told him the truth about it. He informed me that would earn me a spanking. I argued that I never do things like that, it wasn’t intentional! He didn’t back down. I told him that I didn’t keep it from him, even though I could’ve. I was honest with him. He said that he appreciated that, but I still needed to be held accountable. I said, I know, that’s what the stupid $20 late fee is!! He responded with a lecture about how I basically took a half an hour worth of his paycheck and “set it on fire”… I actually started to get angry. I didn’t feel he was being fair. I have to admit, I’m impressed with how calm Adam remained, despite my growing frustration being made known to him through various text messages. I ended with if you think you’re going to spank me when you get home, you’re out your mind. Angry “Eve” will come out! All he wrote back was lol, k. Hold my beer. “Hold my beer” basically means, “just watch me”.

When he got home, I was in the kitchen talking to Jackie and fixing supper. He gave us his usual hello and gave me a kiss on my forehead like he always does. I gave him some “side eye” to make sure it was clear that I was not giving in. We all sat at the table and ate supper. Then, Jackie sat in the kitchen with me while I was cleaning up and fixing Adam and the kids lunches for the next day. I hadn’t told her about any of this stuff between Adam and I, yet. Adam was hanging around, which he doesn’t typically do. This told me that, any minute now, he was going to tell me to go to our room with him. I tried to ignore him and pretended he wasn’t bothering me. Then, it happened. He grinned and said “step into my office, we need to talk”. This means, come to our bedroom with me, you’re getting a spanking. I did my best to look and sound stern, and I told him no. He started walking toward me and I sat down on the floor. I don’t know whyyy I do that sometimes, because I am very well aware that it does no good. Adam just scooped me up in his arms and threw me over his shoulder and brought me into our bedroom. I heard Jackie call out “WHAT DID YOU DOOO?!” I was too busy trying to escape my husband’s grip to respond, though. I really didn’t think it was fair to spank me. I’d told the truth. This was a first offense! I’ve never fought so hard to get out of a spanking before. Adam locked our door and put me down on the floor. I, once again, sat down. He started to try to talk to me about why he felt that I did deserve this. I wasn’t having it. I was being stubborn and I gave him attitude in every response. Finally, he just picked me up, off the floor, and bent me over our bed. I tried to crawl up and out from under his arm that was pinning me down. He began to spank me with his hand, which I did not appreciate, so I continued to give him attitude and sass. This didn’t help my situation. He pulled my leggings and panties down so now I didn’t even have those to cushion the swats landing on my behind. He was not spanking me with the kind of intensity that he had used when I had last “side stepped” the truth to him. He was, however, giving me a whole lot more swats a whole lot faster. This tends to hurt more, in the moment, and then it passes within hours. While those hard as hell ones leave a hurt that lasts for days. He was getting my attention. He knew when I’d finally submitted and given up fighting him. He still gave me a few more. When he relaxed his grip on me, I dropped to the floor. He sat down in front of me. He told me “look, I expect three things from you, always. Number one, respect. Number two, honesty. Number three, do your job taking care of things at home.” I had been honest. I had not done what I should’ve done at home, and I certainly had not been respectful after he’d called me out for it. I understood that. I really did. It was still difficult for me to admit that I deserved that spanking, though. Adam spent a long time talking with me, making certain that I truly understood the why of it all. Making sure that I had heard him, and his message had gotten through to me. I know he was frustrated with my defiance, but he’s so good at staying calm and even toned. He has a serious tone, the “dad voice”, but he isn’t yelling or cruel. After about an hour of this, I relented. I’d dropped the attitude right away following the spanking. I had held my position that I didn’t think it was fair to spank me for the late fee, though. He repeated his reasoning over to me until I couldn’t argue it any longer. I gave in. He “won”. He told me he was fair. Told me that he hadn’t spanked me that hard, and that my attitude should’ve gotten me much worse than he gave me. This, I can’t argue with.

Things were good the rest of the evening. I came back out to the kitchen and texted Jackie to come up and have a beer with me. She brought up 2 beers from the garage fridge and we sat and talked awhile. I explained why I’d been in trouble. Funny enough, she actually understood Adam’s position better than she does most times I wind up in trouble! She’s always sympathetic with me and my point of view, but she didn’t think he was wrong for feeling the way he did. When we’d finished, she went down to her apartment and Adam and I went to take our shower. We talked even more. I think it was hard for Adam to have to discipline me while I so strongly disagreed about deserving it. He needed to know that I was no longer resisting his reasoning. I wasn’t. We had some great “make up sex” and went to bed.

This morning, I was showing Adam that the house was only 61 degrees when I’d woken up. The heat came on!

Home Sweet Home

Adam, the kids, and I left Friday afternoon for our visit to his Mom’s house. We made it in just about 9 hours, which is pretty good considering interstate traffic don’t always like to cooperate. We got there in the middle of the night and got a few hours sleep. We spent Saturday with his mom, his two brothers, and our niece and nephew, who are our kids age. The kids are all very close and talk nearly everyday on FaceTime or one of their online games they’ll play. When we get together, they always have a blast! Everyone is scattered in different states, so it’s not very often that we get to see Adam’s whole family all together.

Our son with our niece & our nephew with our daughter behind them.

Much happier looking daughter in the driver’s seat here!

The trip home went smooth as the trip there, except my behind was much more comfortable on the way home. There’s still some remnants of the bruise I’d been given along my right hip and thigh. I was so ready to be back home by the time we finally pulled into our driveway! We had a great time with Adam’s family, but I was done sitting in a box on wheels, weaving in and out of traffic. I don’t know how Adam does that everyday?!

It wasn’t easy to pry my eyes open and force myself to get up out of bed when my alarm woke me up, this morning. It’s back to work and school. I might even go turn on the TV and lay on the couch for awhile!

I ALMOST Got Away With It

Thursday evening, Adam text me that he was dropping something our friend needed off at his house and then would be heading home. An hour later, I text him and asked if he was heading home yet? Nothing. I sent 2 more texts with no response and finally called his phone. It went to voicemail. I called Biscuit and he answered. I asked him if Adam had been there yet? Adam got on the phone and teased me by saying “no”, but I recognized his voice and I told him “you bastard!” About five minutes passed and my phone started to ring. It was Adam, calling from his phone. I hit the ignore button. He text me that wasn’t nice. I waited exactly twenty minutes before I replied. We had a bit of back and forth.

I guess Biscuit got to talking and Adam had left his phone in his truck. Still!!! If I’d done that exact same thing to him, he would be upset with me. Truth be told, I was upset. I wasn’t so angry that I had lost complete control of my temper or anything, though. I decided I was going to “push it” a little bit. Just to see. He knew he’d done screwed up. How far can I take this, I wondered?

When Adam finally came in the door, it was after 7:00pm. The kids and I had already finished supper. I left it out for him and he fixed himself a plate. I could tell he was feeling guilty. He didn’t walk in with that typical confidence he carries when he knows he’s right. I walked over to him and put my hands on my hips while I lectured him about making me worry that something had happened. Ever since that day his phone got smashed, I’ve had a panic rise up inside of me when I know he should be able to respond. I expected him home long before he made it in. I wouldn’t have been upset had he just brought his phone with him, answered me, and explained that Biscuit was asking for his help fixing a car he’s working on. Adam admitted that he should’ve watched the time and known I’d be starting to worry. He admitted he should’ve had his phone on him and let me know. Then, he lectured me for ignoring him and for refusing to say I love you back to him. He went into our bedroom and came back out carrying the belt in his hand. The kids were outside playing. Jackie wasn’t home. It was just us in the living room. I argued that wasn’t fair! He handed it to me and told me to “give it my best shot” and then it was his turn. I swung and smacked him across his butt as hard as I could. I get no satisfaction, though. He never even winces. He took the belt from me and gave me a couple smacks across my bottom. It was lighthearted.

A little later, we were getting ready to get in the shower, and Jackie had text me. I opened my phone. Adam saw where I’d text her earlier “he’s still in suck up mode. Not sure how long I should play this out lol”. Adam wasn’t very happy about that. He felt like I was just being a brat and, as he put it, trying to break the ground he stands on and feeling like, for the most part, I succeeded. He brought his belt back out from our closet and gave me a couple of hard smacks across my bare behind. I woke up this morning with a bruise across my behind and upper thigh that matches the width of that belt. It isn’t a terrible bad bruise. But it’s obvious where it came from! Now, I have to sit in the car for 8-9 hours while we drive to his mom’s house for the weekend…

I’m Not a Barbie Doll

I’m not in my early thirties, anymore. Someone told me that I “looked like a Barbie doll”, the other day. When I was in my teens and twenties, I heard things like that. It’s been awhile, though.

Most days, I put some effort into how I look. I very rarely wear just a t-shirt or sweatpants. I think I own maybe three to five t-shirts. Most of my wardrobe is tank tops, or crop tops/tank tops with a sweater or plaid shirt over. I have a ridiculous amount of blue jeans in my closet. I might have a problem with hoarding blue jeans. I wear black leggings often, too. I also love jackets. Any and all jackets. I’ve never bought a purse. Ever. All of the ones I’ve had I got as gifts from family or friends. I couldn’t care less about those. Unless it’s the Louis Vuitton. I am a little bit crazy about that one. I have had the same pair of sneakers since…gosh? Probably since my daughter was a baby. I have a whole lot of boots, heels, and sandals. I do like to look nice. I mostly put in effort for Adam, though. I don’t really care that much anymore about what anyone else thinks. I wanted to cut my hair to just below my shoulders and Adam made a face. I didn’t end up cutting my hair. After our wedding, I donated 14 inches of my hair to a wig charity for children and women with cancer. My hair was just at my shoulders for awhile, after that. I think that’s the only time I’ve had “short” hair. I guess I’ve grown up. I hadn’t really thought much about it, until I got called “Barbie”. It’s always nice to have someone compliment you, I just don’t live to impress anyone other than Adam. I mentioned to him that I’d discussed Botox with someone and he told me “absolutely not!” He doesn’t think I need it. So, I told him I was going to do it and see if he noticed. He assured me that he would notice. I told him that I, clearly, needed it then! It’s not because I feel the need to impress other men or women. It’s because I can see myself changing everyday, when I look in the mirror. I want Adam to always think I’m beautiful. I’m very afraid to get old. My kids already think I’m old! Hell, twenty year old me would’ve called me old now. Maybe it’s vain of me?

It’s deeper than just superficial outer beauty that I’m afraid to lose with age. Yes, that scares me, but my mother, and her mother let themselves go. It was almost as if they wanted to be old women. They gained weight. Stopped trying. They spent most of their time “doctor shopping”, looking for whatever drugs they could get prescribed. I can still do my moves from cheerleading in high school! One handed cartwheels, handstands. I can go outside and jump on the trampoline with the kids. I can keep up with them at the park. I don’t groan and struggle everyday when I get out of bed. I’m not up all night because something hurts. I’m horny almost all the time! Our friends can’t believe how much sex Adam and I have. I’m terrified to lose these things. I don’t want my body to go to hell. I don’t want to let my mind deteriorate. As the age or forty looms where I can see it coming, my fears grow. I don’t want to be a plastic, fake, “real housewives” looking bimbo. I only wish I could know what my future looks like. Will Adam still think I’m pretty in 10, 20, 30 years? Will my kids have kids that I can still play out in the yard with? What if I turn into a burden for my family? My greatest fear is to be like my mother, and her mother. My hope, is that I can be like my dad, and his side of my family. My grandma, his mom, is still beautiful. She never acts “old”. She still gardens, paints, loves to cook and bake. She lives at the same home my dad and his siblings were raised in. She’s so tough, and she’s had her share of heartache. She has, around, 25 great grandchildren, and my sister’s about to give her another! My dad just turned 60 years old. He’s in great shape. He’s healthy. He’s active. He’s still nowhere near ready to retire and sit in a rocking chair waiting to die. Please, God, let me be like that!

How Does Adam Punish Me?

There’s a pretty predictable “routine” that follows something I’ve done to earn Adam’s hard hands. His hands are usually so gentle. He holds my face in his hands and kisses me. He rubs my back. He hugs me tight. He plays with my hair while I’m laying beside him. He holds my hand when we’re in the car. There are times, though, when his hands turn to stone. My gosh, his hands can be so hard. I’ve looked at the scars on his knuckles. I know they’re from his younger, wilder days. I can’t even imagine what the full force of his angry fist would feel like! I know there’s not a chance in hell I’ll ever find out, either. Adam would absolutely never harm me. I know I’m safe with him. There’s never any danger to me when I’m with him. That’s not to suggest that his open palmed “hard hands” connecting with my behind don’t create any fear factor for me.

With reliable predictability, I will do my very best to explain my actions to Adam in a way that helps to minimize what I’ve done. With reliable predictability, it won’t work. I sometimes get frustrated about that. Usually, I know it’s best to shut my mouth and just accept that I’ve fucked up and he’s going to punish me. Occasionally, I’ll fight him on it. I have been known to succeed when I do that, but not lately. He’s really gotten good at refusing to let me break him down enough to change his mind. I’ve been helping him with that. He asked me to write him a letter a few months ago. I can’t remember why? I had done something dumb, but not serious enough to warrant a spanking. He wanted me to write him a letter. He keeps it in his drawer in our bathroom. I basically told him to stay on point and don’t let me take him off track so that we just end up both being angry, sad, and lonely. I don’t even remember everything else I said, but it has worked. There hasn’t been a time, since, when I’ve successfully talked, or argued, my way out of a spanking because I got him angry enough to step down from his pedestal and lose his authority because he said something stupid and hurtful and immature to me. You’d think I’d just stop trying, but there’s still something in me that can’t help but push him to do it so that I don’t have to feel like I’m the only one who’s wrong in the situation. I know it’s stupid and immature… when I’m not in it. This is why this letter was written the way it was. It’s only when I’m in the moment, feeling this overwhelming anger, frustration, shame, and fear that I go temporarily “insane” sometimes.

Adam never spanks me in front of anyone when it’s a serious one. He smacks me on my ass all the time, without a care for who’s watching. Sometimes, it’s a warning or a quick “knock it off” kind of thing. Mostly, it’s playful. He doesn’t degrade me. He never embarrasses me in front of people. When I’m in trouble, he calls me into our bedroom and he shuts and locks our door. I never have to wonder why I’m in trouble. He is very clear and takes plenty of time and energy to make sure I understand exactly why we’re here. He doesn’t lecture me while I’m being spanked. He talks to me before, and then after. I have never cried during the spanking. I have absolutely broken down after, when he looks at me and I can see that he’s genuinely hoping I’ve gotten the message this time. I can feel his struggle. I know it is very hard for him to hurt me. He’s always watching and listening to me. Making sure I’m okay, but I’m also taking this seriously. He’s careful to make sure that my mind and body are focused on what he’s punishing me for. Always making certain that I’m not going to a place in my mind where, instead of learning a positive lesson, I wind up traumatized and overwhelmed. He’s watching me, making sure I’m still “with him” and not going to that dark place where I feel only fear. Adam understands very well where my brain can go to sometimes. Although, I’ve never had this happen during a spanking. I had a panic attack once while he was tickling me. I sometimes start to struggle when he’s holding me, and he can sense it and immediately loosens his grip or lets go altogether. Seeing the effort he’s still putting into ensuring that I’m okay, regardless of how upset with me he might be, that breaks me. He’s disappointed in me. He’s hurt. He’s sad that he has to do this. It’s my fault. I feel awful. The shame is just too much. The combination of everything the experience of a punishment spanking involves just works, for us.

Maybe I’m weird? Maybe we’re kinky? Maybe it seems crazy to some people to imagine their own relationship looking like this. That’s fine. This is my life. This is my husband. This is me. I’m not going to suggest that I enjoy being punished. I don’t. I’m also not going to deny that it is sexy as hell to me, later, knowing and remembering the way my husband bared my bottom and humbled me. It’s the emotions that get me. Emotions I wouldn’t have without being combined with his hard hands leaving impressions on me physically, mentally, emotionally.

The Winds of Change

As I’ve mentioned from the beginning of my journey here in “Chronicles in Submission”, Adam has always handled me and my shit. Pretty much from the start of our marriage, he would spank me. It was more in a sexual/sensual way. Occasionally, it was a bit more serious. If I back talked a little too much, or if I blatantly disobeyed something, he would come over to me and swat my butt enough to leave a stinging sensation. The thing is, even that was done on a much much more rare occasion, until recently. I honestly used to read other women’s accounts of trouble they’d gotten into with their husband and think to myself, wow, I must be a saint of a wife, because I hardly ever make Adam that upset with me! As it turns out, he just let a whole lot of shit slide for a long time. He isn’t a hard ass. He really is the most generous and considerate man! He hates to see me crying, especially tears that he brought on. He actually respects me and my opinions, too. He appreciates my insight. He recognizes that I am not an unintelligent, incapable, weak minded partner. In fact, I’m pretty darned smart, and I can back it up with plenty of evidence proving my intellectually gifted brain I’ve got here in my head. I was taking care of myself, by myself, when Adam and I met. I wasn’t “needy”. And, I’m certainly not “weak minded”. I don’t imagine there’s a single soul who’s met me who’d suggest that! I know it seems as if I’m near constantly sharing my vulnerabilities, my tough moments, my insecurities on here, but that’s because I don’t often share them anywhere else. I don’t just sit and talk about my feelings everyday. I might be struggling inside just to make myself get through the day, but I don’t show it easily. I smile and I fake it til I make it. I think Jackie has seen me really cry maybe a handful of times in the nearly 20 years we’ve known each other. My sister, even less. I do talk with Jackie a lot, and I occasionally will even send her one of my blog posts to read. That’s much easier for me to do than to sit and try to form the right words face to face with anyone. I started this blog back in like 2019. I didn’t tell Jackie or my sister or my friends about it. I didn’t even tell Adam much.

We moved into our new house shortly after Christmas 2022. It was almost right away that things started to look different between Adam and I. My dad had lived with us in our old house for a year and a half and only bought his new house right before we bought ours. Adam wasn’t ever exactly afraid to stand up to me, even when my dad was there, but it was different. As I’ve written about, we were also going through the hell that my mother was putting us through. I wasn’t in the healthiest mental space. Adam showed me a lot of grace, patience, and understanding. I’m not suggesting that he was wrong for doing that, either. There should absolutely be extenuating circumstances that call for forgiveness without the need for immediate confrontation and punishment. I needed him to love me through it. I was getting beaten down in every way by my mother. I would get angry and lash out sometimes. I wasn’t always patient with him. Things are different now. Adam and I both recognize that. He was starting to stand up to me and my bullshit much more. The only problem was, he wasn’t often successful. He will even admit that, when it comes to fighting words, I will win. I am good at either disarming him by making him laugh when he confronts me, or letting “angry Eve” out and trading him “punches” with hurtful, damaging words. Ultimately, nobody wins. Neither of us felt good about ourselves. Nothing was solved. Hateful things said couldn’t be taken back.

I started to write in my blog again. I found myself, so often, trying to explain something I’d written to Adam and failing miserably. Finally, I began to talk to him about my writing after I shared some of it with him. This made it easier to have conversations with him, because he understood where I was coming from. We talk so much more than we have in, maybe ever. I don’t know if Adam has ever seen this deeply into my heart and soul before. I don’t think I’d ever let him that far “in”. We had talked about many of the things I’ve written, but I didn’t necessarily share everything. If it was too hard for me to talk about, or I just wasn’t ready to let him know that much of me, I’d leave those parts out. That didn’t help. He was only getting a pieces of the puzzle. How could he see the whole picture that way? I’ve finally began to understand that he loves me, all of me. He wants to be involved. He needs to know things, even if they’re hard to share with him. He’s never been judgmental or criticized me. It’s just the opposite! We are still learning and discovering things about one another. I was told, a long time ago, that I’m a “hard shell to crack, but a good egg”. I’ve also been told many, many times that I insist on learning things “the hard way”. These are accurate descriptions of me. I’ve told Adam, even recently, that “I can’t know what I don’t know”. Some of the things he’s asking of me, like not “side stepping”, which I understand is, essentially, lying. That’s just not something I used to feel guilty about. I know that makes me seem awful, but it’s the truth. It’s not easy to never do that, now. I don’t think he’s wrong for insisting that I knock that off. It’s things like this that we’re learning about each other. Opening up and being brutally honest with ourselves and each other makes a world of difference. I often ask Adam if he’s really mad at me? I can’t know what I don’t know! It can be hard for me to determine whether he’s being seriously serious, or not. Spanking me like he did last time he wasn’t happy with me, though…yep, he meant it. I’ll tell the truth, if he had brought his hand down like that one or two more times, I’m not sure I could’ve held back tears. I’ve never cried from the physical pain of a spanking, yet. It was knowing he was serious that made me cry. When I can hear it in his voice, see it in his eyes, and feel it in my behind, fuck, that breaks me. He’s never done that until recently. Not like that.

Here I am, over a week out from the last time Adam got upset with me, and I know I don’t look forward to that experience happening again. Having said that, it’s amazing how much it’s affected each of us. Adam is much more confident. He isn’t afraid to tell me no. Occasionally, I panic just a little bit about that. I can’t “take it back”. The genie is out of the bottle now! I trust him, though. I pray that he keeps wearing this confidence. I hope that he is unafraid to “humble” me again the next time I do something stupid. I know what a spanking that actually really freaking hurts is like. It isn’t fun. I’m not about to set myself up to do that again. Most of all, I’m amazed and thankful for the growth we’ve both experienced. I think our marriage is more solid than ever. I look at Adam and see someone who can take care of me. He’s stronger, braver, softer, and harder. He isn’t letting me talk or walk my way out of trouble. I can’t escape it. That seems like it would be terrifying! It’s reassuring to me, actually. There’s an even deeper level of trust that’s growing inside me for my husband. He’s here. He’s there. He’s not going anywhere. And, he’s going to make sure that I don’t, either.