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A Different Side of rayne

August 4th, 2004

I begged today. For the first time in a really long time, I begged today. And I don’t mean for sex, or for pleasure, or for anything specifically for myself. But for help. For guidance. Somewhere along the way, I got lost. Whether I was trying to find a short cut or just wandering off the path, I’m not sure. I only know that I am hopelessly, desperately and completely lost.

I caught a glimpse of light, and latched on. And I begged today. And He’s going to help me find my way back to where I need to be. He’s not only going to point me back in the right direction, but He’s going to lead me down the path. And that’s much more than I have any right to ask for. And I am so incredibly grateful.

I’m crying as I write this. I don’t know where I’ve been. It’s like waking from a terrible nightmare, and then realizing you were awake the whole time. And for the first time since… I can’t even remember, I am completely humbled. And it’s a very scary place for me. Because it’s a place I’ve tried very hard to never be since I was very small. But it’s where I need to be. And it’s where a slave should be. And I’m sitting here beating myself black and blue even though I’m out for the count and trying to figure out where I lost sight of that. How I convinced myself that I was different. What made me think that I could continue to be proud and bitchy and mouthy and… the list is endless?

I made a life of independence. For twenty-two years, my motto was “If I can’t do it myself, I won’t do it at all.” The response I gave to everyone was “I’m too tough for you. You can’t bring me down. And you certainly can’t make me feel. Emotion is for sissies. And I’m no sissy.” And I didn’t see a problem with this. Even when I all but begged to be enslaved, I thought I could continue to live that way. I thought I could separate the “tough” me from the “slave” me and everything would go as planned. I failed miserably.

When I made the decision to pursue a Master/slave relationship with Master, I looked deep inside myself to make sure that this was what I wanted. That I could do this. And that I would be happy doing this. A lot of thought went into the decision and I realized I knew myself a lot better than I thought I did.

But I was scared. Not of the unknown. Not of being a slave. Being a slave meant I would have to let my guard down. Being a slave meant I would have to trust. Being a slave meant I would have to actually show my adoration for my Master instead of keeping Him at arms length so I wouldn’t get hurt. And I was petrified.

For a while, it was going okay. For a while, I was doing pretty good. For a while, I asked before I did everything, right down to going to the bathroom. I kept my mouth in check and did what I was told. I rarely ever stepped out of line. Somewhere along the way, I got lost. And I begged today. 

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