The Good Husband mentioned this blog yesterday. I went over and read the whole thing. It's new, so it didn't take long. There are many things I don't have in common with Lisa, but I found myself really seeing some of my own life in the post she called "Thoughts, part 3." (I'm sorry, but I can't seem to figure out how to link to that particular post. HTML-what?)
John and I do not have a marriage on the rocks or anything close to that. Nobody is cheating, emotionally or otherwise. We're close. We spend lots of time together and as a family. Our sex life is going strong and is greatly improved over recent years. We're getting our groove back as our little babies grow into little people. We're continuing to evolve and grow as we will be entering our 40's next year. But we're doing it together, and we will make it.
But I really related to what Lisa was saying about being a strong woman. I'm a strong woman, and I'm the stronger partner in just about every aspect of my marriage. Don't get me wrong. I am not a dictator. I'm not mean (well, not unless I'm tired and cranky anyway). And we do talk most things out together. But I run the house and I run our lives. I run the finances. I veto things that I don't like. For the most part, John goes along. It seems that the buck stops with me.
With power comes responsibility. I have to balance the checkbook, manage the budget, make investment decisions, make sure the house is stocked and everybody has everything that they need, make sure the health department will not come over and cite us for cleanliness violations, keep the laundry under control, etc. Many times I wish I did not have so much responsibility. Responsibility is not so much fun. Maybe all these things just seem like my housewifely duties. But it's more than that.
I control our sex life. If I'm not in the mood, it ain't gonna happen. John has little power to get me into the mood, although he can break the mood unintentionally in so many small ways. Lately we have tended to have showers at night since we've had so much nocturnal activity. Usually I shower while he bathes the kids in the tub. He likes to open the shower door and leer at me. A lot. Often. All the time. It might have been cute or sexy once or twice, but now I just find it annoying. Good grief. I just want to relax for a few minutes. Stop leering at me like a horny schoolboy. I hinted to him many times that it was starting to annoy me. Finally I snapped at him a couple of days ago.
Last night we were relaxing and watching "The Apprentice." He reached across the baby sleeping between us in the bed and kind of kneaded my shoulder. It felt like he was dumping a bucket of cold water over my head. Why not just put his hand on my shoulder? Why did he have to poke at me like that? I don't know why it was so annoying. Well maybe I do. It wasn't strong. It wasn't a confident husband placing his hand on me. It was the horny schoolboy poking at me. I got up and led us to our guestroom/"playroom," but after a couple minutes of kissing I knew it just was not going to work for me. So I pulled away and it was over.
I wish John had the power to put me in the mood, at least sometimes. I don't know. Maybe it's me. Maybe I would just never reliquish that control to anybody. Or maybe I would. I wish I could. I really wish I could.
Lisa also talked about the D/s blogs she has been reading. John and I got slightly intrigued by some of those ideas a few weeks ago. We even played around with spanking as detailed here. It was really fun a few times, but it isn't a regular part of what we do. It was more about being naughty, silly and fun than D/s. And the more we read about the real D/s world, the more we did not see ourselves there. John and I both agreed on that.
I don't want a man to dominate me. I don't want to be submissive. I want to be the strong woman that I am. I just want a strong man to stand beside me and take the load too. I want a full partner. We can both have our strengths and weaknesses and help each other. Just sometimes I want him to take care of me. I want to be able to curl up with him and feel feminine surrounded by his masculinity. I don't get enough of that.