Some people will say I like being used and argue that my submission is a response to abuse
Some people will say I’m weak and a disappointment to feminine pride and that my desire to submit is for a free ride
In full transparency I wish pieces of those thoughts and ideas were true but my submission is so much more than me and you
It’s the way I think. The way I breathe. It’s the ache to love and serve that lives inside of me.
It’s the way I hope and trust and believe. It’s the way I’m designed to look for and anticipate needs.
If my submission were a choice I’d probably opt out, it’s been a heavy cross to bear in a world alone and full of doubt
My submission is a character trait that goes hand in hand with the way I live and honestly it’s taken advantage of frequently because I’m always ready and wanting to give
So I’ve come up with ways to hide my submission. To keep it quiet and hidden like a horrific physical condition.
I’ve hid it so long that I’m unsure of how it’ll rise. Will it be brilliant and untainted and full of hope? Or bruised and battered and simply say “nope”
I guess the truth of the matter is that it all depends on him and if there is a safe space for me to let go and test the limb
It’s both exciting and rare to experience the desire to submit to a man and I can feel the pleasure and anticipation rising and making my submission stand