Renovating

I feel like it has been weeks since I have been on here. We/I have been busy with sanding and painting the inside of our house. It seems every time we turn around there is something else that needs fixing or painting.

It is never ending. And I am tired of it all...tripping over sanding blocks and paper, having to skirt around furniture, currently living in three rooms..our bed is in the lounge, our clothes are in our bedroom and our drawers are in the spare room. There are drop cloths everywhere, paint cans and paint brushes, doors off hinges and hinges off doors.  (and that sounds like a song from 'The Sound of Music)

I feel like blogland is a distant memory, and every time I do make it here (which is not often at the moment) it is like being a newbie all over again.

DD/Ttwd seems to have taken a back seat to everything else. There appears to now be one rule and one rule only...'Watch how speak'. All the other rules appear to have been ditched. I am tired and my husband is tired.

I have had a lot of time to think though....while waving a paint brush around.

This life we have is very much like renovating.

The HoH is the renovator and the wife is the renovat-tee (I know...a new word)

The HoH is digging out, sanding down the rough edges, rebuilding and making his wife 'pretty' on the inside. The lovely submissive wife is willing (ahem..) and  is basically getting a makeover. Much like our house.  And much like our house, every time you turn around there is something else that needs to be fixed.

Dd/ttwd is not an 'end to a means' It is an ongoing journey, just like renovating a house. Yes, you can rush it through (much like we are trying to do with our house, possibly ready for selling) but there will always be things that need to be 'fixed' Even with rushing through it all, moving from one thing to another, means that you have the potential to leave something behind that should be dealt with first. Which means you have to go back and 'repair' what you have missed.

Our emotions are like the colour we paint on our walls.

The paint we have chosen is a neutral colour. But it changes in the light...In bright sunlight it is white, in the shade it is cream, and in really dark places it takes on a deep cream/pale yellow colour.  It is those deep dark places that intrigue me. 

They are like the places that I keep hidden...my intense desire to be submissive/obedient. The intense desire to be wholly, one hundred per cent, belonging to my husband in all areas. To sometimes just be 'ruled' by him. The intense desire to give all of myself...not just some of me, not just eighty percent. The intense desire to know that when I do something that is not pleasing to him, is not in accordance to him being the HoH that there will be something that will remind me later of what he expects. 

Physically, emotionally, mentally and, yes...even sexually wholly his. 

I have had to examine myself over the last few weeks. Am I a weak woman for wanting this? No, no I am not.  I am not naturally obedient, or submissive. I am a strong woman who has an extremely strong willed nature. Oh alright....a rebellious nature. It would take all my strength to be like this.

I keep this part of me hidden. I don't know why. Maybe it is a trust issue. I want to give that one hundred percent, but that means letting someone into my life fully. I can hear you wondering why I have parts hidden from him, my husband. I can hear you wondering 'if he is your husband, then he should know all of you' and yet he does not. Even after twenty four years of marriage, I struggle with giving over my all. Not trusting was so ingrained in me throughout my growing years, that it is a second nature....a second skin. 

That skin keeps me together from day to day.  I can sit in a crowded room and know every person there, and yet still feel alone. But I can tell you about their lives, their dreams, their sorrow. Because I watch and listen. Most times there is a bubble around me that no one gets through. Those that I choose as friends come into a smaller bubble.  That bubble is even smaller for my husband, much closer to that second skin, but still there never the less. It is this bubble that has to break. 

I want this. But even now I should be doing something else instead of sitting here. That daily list of extra things still needs doing. I am puzzled on how one can want this so bad, yet struggle with a simple daily list.  

Is human nature that complex?

One day all this will fall into place. There will be no more bubbles or second skin. I will be his, all the way. It was a big step, and a big trust issue to even think about telling him about Dd/ttwd. He could of laughed, rung the people in white coats and had me carted away to some padded room. But he didn't.  That was nine months ago. We have been through the start of the renovating process with each other. There have been times when we have had to go back and start again. There have been times when all hell has broken loose and it has felt like the house of emotions was about to come tumbling down. But we weathered that, came through stronger, learnt a lesson, filled in the cracks, sanded them down, painted another colour and moved on. (and yes, it did happen quite a few times). 

Eventually I will be his....all of his.