Coming to an Understanding – I am a Slave

Like anyone else who’s walking the submissive path, I struggle from time to time. Maybe more times than I really care to admit. There are times where Daddy asks things of me, that I don’t quite want to do or I feel like I don’t have a submissive bone in my body and that makes it hard to follow the directions I have been given. There are also times where Daddy wants to handle a situation a certain way and I don’t agree with Him at all. When these things happen, I find myself wanting to argue with Daddy, even throw a temper tantrum sometimes.

It’s times like these where I find myself having to take a step back before I open my mouth and say something that could earn me some major corner time. I have to remind myself that no one is holding a gun to my head and forcing me to stay. I know that at any time I feel that I no longer have a bond or relationship with Daddy, I will be released. But because I do have that bond with Daddy, that’s why I stay and why I choose to submit despite how I may really feel about something.

The reason why I submit even though I may not agree with Daddy or want to do the given task at hand because of certain, inalienable truths that I know. I know that there are several reasons why Daddy has asked me to perform a certain task. Those reasons are because He knows I need to be pushed from time to time to grow and expand my comfort zone, I need to get out of the apartment before I go absolutely insane and become a recluse, and that He cares enough about my well-being to make sure I don’t go insane and become a recluse.

Another very important reason is because I fully and completely trust Daddy. I know that Daddy tends to see the bigger picture when He makes His decisions on how to handle things whereas I tend to only see the here and now and not so much long term. Also I know that Daddy is making His decision based on what’s the best for all parties involved, not just what’s best for Him. I know that I am a constant factor when decisions are made. Yes, I do have the opportunity to voice my concerns and opinions, but ultimately, Daddy has the final say in what is done. As His collared slave, I have to respect that decision.

This is hard to do sometimes. Like Daddy, I’m just as bullheaded as He can be and willing to argue until I’m blue in the face to prove my point. But a slave shouldn’t be quite so bullheaded and more than willing to argue until blue in the face to prove a point. To me, there has got to be a point where a slave takes a step back before they speak and realize why they are in the position that they are in. None of us are forced into accepting a collar. We accept that collar by our own choice. Sometimes, that’s not always an easy decision to live with. There are so many times when Daddy gives me an order or says that something is going to be done a certain way and I don’t agree, I find myself having this huge internal struggle. Of course I go along with what Daddy says, and I will vocalize that I agree to what He has said, but on the inside, I’m not really agreeing. I’m having a mental temper tantrum-screaming “no” over and over, stomping my feet, and possibly throwing my stuffed animals around are the images that fly around in my head.

When this happens, I feel guilty. Not just a little guilty, but a lot guilty because mentally, I’m not agreeing with Daddy. I have to be careful with this because that can cause this dangerous thought loop where I start thinking I’m not good enough, I’m not worth Daddy’s collar, I’m the worst slave in the world, that kind of thing and when that does happen, my submission suffers because I find myself thinking if I’m so terrible, then why bother? Before I allow all of this to happen, I have to take a step back and clear my mind and remind myself of a few things: one, that I’m human and I’m not always going to agree with Daddy 100% of the time; two, I need to allow myself to really feel the weight of the collar around my neck and why I’m wearing it; and probably most importantly the reasons why I choose to submit to Daddy.

This is where I find myself repeating the lines “bambi is a slave by its own choice. bambi is a slave that is loved, respected, and to be taken care of by Daddy when bambi needs that” over and over again until it sinks in, again. Sometimes, I do feel weak for having these moments, but I have to realize that after all, I’m still human and have all those wonderful human emotions and thought processes to deal with.