A Masters Ghosts

I have been hesitating to write this, thinking that the pull to put it on paper would go away, but instead it is right there still, weeks later.  So here goes.

I am not one to lay blame to what parents do, generally speaking and excessive abuses aside. In my black and white thinking once you are 18 its time to put on your big girl, or boy, or whatever panties and take some responsibility for yourself, how you act, think, and move in the world. Whenever I ask an adult a question and I get the answer “It was how I was raised.”  I vomit a little in my mouth and then think-   how old are you anyway? Where is your personal accountability for your belief systems and actions? 

Harsh, judgmental, biased I know- But hey- it was how I was raised.  Just kidding.

So onto my point.

There are two things that I constantly work on with and about myself. One is the need to matter, and the other is being believed.

When it comes to needing to matter I am constantly judging myself against what I have just done. I am only as good as my last blog, my last AEL Kinkskills, my last scene, my last fuck.

I strive to matter, I need to matter.  

It took me a while to put together that this need to matter now comes from never mattering as a kid to my Dad.  Even back when we were talking in my adulthood he made it very clear how insignificant he thought that I was. (We no longer communicate.)

I know that this intense need to matter strongly affects my Master identity, and probably drives it more than even I am aware of.

I know that there is a direct link between having to matter and being the breadwinner of the home, as well as having my word be final, and how I direct and require the chores are done in the house. If I say something and it matters- it is done, then I matter in some weird way. 

I know that needing to matter drives me in a lot of ways, some good- some questionable.  (OK some not so good.) I need to matter to my slave. More than I am willing to admit.

I also struggle with being believed. I am afraid that whatever comes out of my mouth will be thought of as a lie. My first wife consistently told me that I was lying no matter what I said. That was 5 years of not being believed, even in the most basic of things.

So now I have this deep seated belief that if I were to actually talk about my life, the things that I have done, or gone through,   that the person that I am talking to won’t believe me.  So I try to talk about myself as little as possible.  Even now as I write this I think- wow am I really screwed up or what?

This fear of being believed also falls on the shoulder of my slave. she gives me the sense that I am a believable and trustworthy person. My slaves reassurance and validation of me (not to mention her undying devotion, and the fact that she believes that I AM A GOD!!) lets me lead, lets me let go, lets me make decisions with confidence and authority.  When it could so easily go the other way.

My need to matter and my fear of not being believed could very easy by used by my slave to keep me off balance, questioning, and defensive of myself, my actions and my thoughts.

As Masters we all have those things that follow us like ghosts. That come into our lives and influence how we lead our homes and our slaves. These emotional apparitions absolutely and directly affect what we expect from our slave, and how we define how our slave supports us.

These emotional shadows do not have to rule us however; they are a part of us, yes.   But as Masters it is part of our duty in leading to be aware of our own challenges, and be aware of what it takes to emotionally serve us as whole person. Not walking, fucking, playing Master robots, but whole people with emotional baggage like the rest of the world.  

It is hard to admit as Masters that we have these parts of ourselves.  But it is a beauty when the slave knows them as well, and serves with joy, love, and understanding. 

 And I like it when she coos at me…..