Kinder, Gentler...

I haven't been punished in quite a while. It's a pretty good feeling to know that my marriage has reached a point where the spankable issues that plagued our lives aren't constantly at the forefront of our relationship. They're still there, but now they hover quietly in the background, making the occasional appearance to shake things up like an attention seeking 2-year-old. I've been punished for lying, non-communication, smoking, walking out, making unilateral decisions, disobeying orders, and of course the ever popular smart mouth that gets out of hand every once in a while. These issues kept popping up over and over again and in rapid fire because... I must be some kind of an idiot.

The truth? I was afraid to let go of who I am. I liked being able to tell my husband the occasional lie because it's more convenient and expedient than the truth. The house smells like cigarette smoke because the window was open and these kids were smoking outside our window all afternoon.

I enjoyed not having to check with BabyMan on making a decision that ultimately concerns and affects the both of us. In the heat of the moment, I felt empowered. Nah, I don't have to discuss it with my husband. If he doesn't like it, well, he'll just have to get over it.

And I think disobeying often gave me a sense of satisfaction. You can't tell me what to do. You're not the boss of me!

Now in the grand scheme of things, these issues weren't so bad. I'm a pretty good wife for all intents and purposes. Quite often when I read domestic discipline fiction, the heroine is usually being punished for some unconscionable act of lunacy such as losing the deed to her home at the casino, then driving 90 miles an hour without her seat belt to the wrong side of town in a miniskirt and stilettos, buying a pound of valium from the friendly neighborhood pusher while simultaneously on her cell phone to her husband swearing that she is "as we speak" picking up their 3-year-old from pre-school.

So in comparison, I just might have been wife of the year in our BS (Before Spanking) days. I didn't drink and drive, or flirt with other men. I wasn't a clothes horse or jewelry hound spending my husband's money recklessly. I didn't gamble, pop pills recreationally, or go upside my husband's head with a cast iron skillet. My issues were subtler, but just as frustrating to my husband as our heroine's actions were to her husband in that story. There was something about me that didn't fill his personal need to be respected. Of course if you had asked me in our BS days if I respected my husband, I would have been insulted by the question. Similarly if you asked me if I was submissive, I would be just as indignant. After all, I made him dinner every night, and I almost never denied him sex. Isn't that the definition of submissive, dammit?

It wasn't until last October when we started DD that I began to realize that the wife I had become was not the wife I wanted to be for him. There was something in my attitude that was lacking. It wasn't until my first spanking that I understood that the issue of my cavalier disobedience meant more to him than I ever imagined.

Over a phone call? Are you kidding me? You ask me to make a lousy phone call, I decided not to do it, and you want to do WHAT to me?

I had disobeyed him on this task because I wanted to be my own woman, and let him know that I'd get to his little, insignificant demands when, and if, I felt like it. In other words, I will respect and submit to him when it is convenient for me and not a moment sooner. The disobedience alone wasn't really the issue, but more to the point, I just didn't care if he felt disrespected. The spanking wasn't especially painful (he hadn't yet cultivated his paddle swing) but I was expecting him to concede that he could not and should not attempt to control me, and if he still wanted to spank me, I'll gladly accept the sexual foreplay. Instead, I got anger, disappointment and a lecture. That's when it occurred to me that for my habits and attitude to be spankable, it must really bother him. There's a twinge of desperation for him to have to go this far to make his point.

I recall vaguely the lecture he gave me during that first spanking, and it went something along the lines of, "From now on when I tell you to do something, you do it!"  But I don't think that's what he wanted to say at all. I think what he really wanted to impart was,  I am your husband, your lover, your provider and protector, and I would break my back to give you anything that you ask for. So from now on, you are to treat me as though I'm someone that you love deeply enough to want to impress with every fiber of your being.  I think I picked up on the real meaning of that spanking if only subconsciously that day. On the surface, I was sulking, pouty, pissed, but surprisingly, not for long. When I came into the living room afterwards to find him pensively staring out the window, I put the pause button on my rehearsed diatribe. I heard the little voice inside me say, "He really is crazy about you, you idiot!" What actually came out of my mouth was, "Would you like me to make your dinner?"

Whoa!  Where'd that come from?  Who said that?  Was it possible that that spanking was the first installment of my transformation into a kinder, gentler, more emotionally generous partner?  The goal here has always been to eliminate punishment spankings all together, and on more than one occasion while over his knee, BabyMan has reiterated “Your spankings should all be erotic. I shouldn’t have to punish you anymore.”

Agreed.

I'm not saying that I'll never get punished again. Far from it. There are still those elements in me that cause me to be bare-assed and up-ended. Rebelliousness, laziness, rudeness, defiance, sassiness... and let's not forget the hormones from hell. I have a love-hate relationship with my bath brush, and I don't see that changing anytime soon. The difference now is that my disobedience and disrespect are not a conscious effort to hang on to my identity. I don't have to anymore. My real identity is who I am now...

Kinder, gentler, and a little bit wiser.