Reflections

It is strange how on this first day of 2011, the year of 2010 all of a sudden seem so far away and how time suddenly changed from yesterday/today, to last year/this year. But before I close the door on yesterday, last year, my last toast to 2010, my reflections of the year in which I have finally found the road home.

It was last year that I took my first deliberate step away from expected conformity and the rejection of living according to the rules of the box I was placed in.

It was last year when to the consternation of all friends and family, in a firm declaration of independence, that I boarded a plane bound for the USA, woman alone, a month of exploration ahead,  in a country that I had always dreamed to see, alone, in any way I would want to.

It was last year when isolated from what I have always known, discovering and exploring the sights and sounds of a strange country, that I experienced a change within myself, with repressed pieces of myself, numbed over the years with guilt, coming to the fore.

It was last year, when I decided to stop running away from myself, to explore my desires and need within, and to accept myself, no matter what I found, or who I am.

It was last year when standing in front of a man, dominant and strong, being told for the first time in years that my behaviour was inacceptable and punishable, that I offered no argument or protest , but only had rejoiced in the thrill of anticipation of what was to come.

It was last year when for the first time I was bent over a chair, not objecting to  my dress being lifted up, his hands pulling down my panties and leaving my bottom bare, I had acknowledged the  need for being submissive within. 

It was last year, when although whimpering in pain as my bare bottom had felt the burning whisperings of a cane, the heavy thud of a paddle, the stinging kiss of leather, or the sound of a hand impacting against my flesh, I had realised that this was always who I have been.

It was last year, that even though my bared bottom was welted, red and burning with pain, praying and pleading for the punishment to come to an end, I would lift my bottom again, accepting the next stroke, and the one thereafter, that I had fully found, embraced and celebrated the submissive I am.

It was last year, that when for the first time, I felt the hardness within me breaking away, stroke after stroke, being replaced with a softness, making me gentler and calm, that I had fully  understood and knew that I have become, finally the woman who I am. 

As the New Year of 2011 awaits, fresh, without any imprints yet, I know that my feet is still firmly on the road from last year, after all, it is a journey,.....my journey.