I made a remark about being like Tigger in my last post. I have also been compared to Odie. And my ex used to say he was The Brain and I was Pinky…which was funny at the time but now kind of annoys me. Anyway, whether it just be my personality, my blond hair, the type II bipolar disorder, or any other number of things, I seem to be a “flitter.” I like to flit. I have ideas in my head a lot – A LOT – but sometimes (okay more than sometimes) lack the focus to see all of them through. I probably had ADD is a child, but instead of meds I learned to do things like joggle my leg, twiddle my fingers, or doodle in the margin of my notes in order to keep from dancing on my desk.
One thing that I often do at Sir’s instruction, in fact, I do this every morning for a start, is to “spill and ponder.” Sometimes He gives me something to think about, other times I am just to focus. I have called it “submissive meditation” before. Yes, I could do the same thing on a yoga mat in a class, but something about being spilled on the foot of my bed naked makes the focus more peaceful and, quite frankly, more enjoyable. Besides, I prefer upward facing ice cream to downward facing dog. (Insert rim shot here)
In many ways, discovering my submissiveness is a lot like coming home. I was raised in the deep south by a genuine southern belle lady. I actually followed the when-to-wear-white rule. I learned how to properly get into and out of a car. My pinky naturally raises even when I am holding a can of Coke Zero. I was in pageants. I know how to use a finger bowl and set a table. I even went to “finishing school,” where we did walk around with a book on our heads. And I loved it. Not the snobby stuff that gets exaggerated by Yankee authors (haha). I love the grace, the femininity, the gentility, the simple beauty. In short I LOVED being a girl, and I LOVE being a woman. And before anyone might suggest that it means uptight, all southern women know that the perfect southern woman is equal part Melanie, Scarlett, AND Belle Whatling. If you don’t know who those characters are…bless your heart. You need a glass of sweet tea.
So when Sir asked me to spend some time pondering my femininity, I loved it. I still think about it from time to time. Every time I take five extra minutes to look like a girl instead of a character from the “people of wal mart” site before I go to the store. Every time I smile at someone instead of have that “I’m in a hurry” scowl on my face. Every time I put on pretty underwear no matter what I am wearing over them (my 70 year old mother does not own a single ugly bra or pair of panties). Every time that soft strength directs my actions. I love being a girl a woman, a submissive. I love pink and Queen Anne’s lace and dressing up. I love my china and baking cake and shoes and laughing and dancing and letting my hair grow long and soft.
Being feminine is empowering for me. And that is not a throwback to the 1950’s. That is part of my strength.