7 Year Bitch

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I still marvel at having been able to meet my ultimate best friend and partner in life at the early age I did. Our time started when I was entering adulthood, I met a man with more with more patience, tolerance and understanding. He’s been my rock, my home, and reason as I stumbled into adulthood with not much of a clue.  Our 12 years together have been an old sorts of excitement, experimentation, anxiety, happiness and learning. We’ve watched our friends love and loss and love again. We’ve watched the landscape in general of “love” change in our social circles and our closest friends. In the face of some of the hardest things we’ve stayed constant and the more stupid we’ve exhausted and crumbled to defeat, rebuilding as we re-grow.

When I think of the “typical” relationship issues that go on between couples, I see that we don’t have those. Trust and jealousy being two of the biggest and they don’t make a presence here. We don’t have too many squabbles, or friction between our personalities, though we are very different temperaments and energies we’ve always generally flowed together. For many reasons I have seen my friends estates dissolve while my castle kept building, M and I have always been the very best of friends before any other affection that we are to each other.

It’s through my time with M that I have learned that a life with love need not to be a tragic disaster or battle of the wits. I’d never have to worry school girl grievances. He would never get bored of me, or tire from my endeavours. I’ve always likened myself to the energy in the relationship that pulls, like a dog on leash that loves to walk. The kind that always makes you question if you’re walking the dog, or the dog is walking you? That’s me. I’m that dog. M has held steady to my energy and even when we’ve dissolved in the midst of the war zones I created.

And it’s true, we have dissolved before. Our relationship became a toxic plume that we stumbled and fought each other through as if we were enemies. Formidable opponents we became. The destitution of 2008. We’d crumbled under the pressure to ‘be’ and had build our world at the time trying to conform to what our ideals had sold us on. Perfect home, perfect career, perfect children everything must be perfect, you must prove yourself to the world because of the unfortunate accident of teen pregnancy. You must prove the naysayers wrong.

It was our lesson in communication and prioritising our home, our lives and our love. We both fell into this trap, separately and together of trying to adhere to a standard that for us wouldn’t inspire. We fell into the trap of listening to the muck of negativity wash around us. Caught in a suburban landscape where men worked hard through the week, and the women stayed home to wrestle children and defeat themselves and their self loathing with wine on weekends…. when I woke up from that stupor I still hate how I had to learn that lesson, and flay the zombie existence from my twisting body.

Through the hate that we created, we grew lonely to reunite and found a calm had seized us. So we got on with it. Through a series of discussions we had moved our relationship into a space of power exchange. He took on the role and responsibility and I would ask permission. We affected consensually into our lives and my surrender became my saviour.

Bringing about the end of another 7 year cycle. Typical. Our landscape is much changed. We’ve our little castle in the city, with school aged children and aspects of freedom are revealing themselves more and more.  The last six months have rendered me a bit lost and frustrated at times to the point of numb, and void. But in honesty though, the last 7 years have been good to me. So why has my 7 year bitch reared her head?

I’m fully aware that I have declared war on myself in a quest to question, contemplate and challenge the self insecurities, self judgement and self loathing. But I declared war on my self and what I have incidentally become aware of is that I am changing. Fucking shocking right?

But I don’t want to surrender anymore because I have voice telling me that I can’t be me if I do.

Things I have studied for the last 7 years on BDSM, Fetish, Power Exchange, Submission and Consensual Slavery, and my experience in my relationship is now under attack.

Remembering that M is not the demon, wanna be in charge, Dom, Fetlife dickheads…. he is M… by no standards has my relationship ever warranted the sideways glances that usually go with the questions of a power exchange relationship. M has fostered me, encouraged me and lifted me up in all things. I’ve hardly ever really felt it right that I would be afforded that symbol around my neck, because I’ve always felt very free.

I’ve been trapped inside a bubble where my own self expectation did not match his. We’ve been trapped inside a bubble where these events have prevented some of the other experiences we could have been having, because we prioritised them that way.

My 7 year Bitch is back and the reflections I thought I was peering into have left me feeling unsettled to find my lover and Dominant partner has become my room mate. In the middle of all the crap we have going on we’ve been demoted again. We’ve over prioritised ourselves to make the rest of our lives work that as lovers we are strangers.

This is the bliss of the long term relationship people.

Though we are not in dislike of each other, we have become rather indifferent and disconnected. The bliss of a long term relationship where ‘life’ takes priority over matters of passion, love and companionship.

So on discussion and a great sense of alarm to find that it’s not just my new sense of what the actual fuck, but his own turmoil of heart and direction, I find myself deflated and heartbroken to be here once again. To be removing the symbol of the strength of our bond and how our energy existed in cohesion.




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