A New Year, a new era?

Thirteen years ago Nick spanked me for the first time. Six years after that we introduced the concept of domestic discipline into our marriage, and it changed our marriage entirely. Seven years later, DD seems to have died a quiet death. The day just past was the 7 year anniversary of DD for us, and as I expected, it passed without mention.

It’s been a couple of months since there was any form of discipline happening, and it’s been nearly as long since there’s been so much as a mention of it. A few days after this spanking there was another one promised for the same thing. I had ended up staying up all night the next Tuesday night, albeit with good intentions. Nick had an early meeting the next morning, and I was trying to make sure he got up on time. When I woke him up and he realized I hadn’t been to bed, he let me know that it would be dealt with. I asked him if we could try to take care of it soon, and he promised to try to do it the next day. Obviously that never happened. Nor was it ever even referenced again.

Honestly, I didn’t want the spanking, and I certainly hadn’t been trying to earn it, but I have to admit that the broken promise felt an awful lot like not caring. Much the same way that the birthday spanking he promised never happened. Sort of like how the birthday spankings for 2008 and 2009 never happened either. It’s not like this is the longest we’ve ever gone without any kind of spanking for punishment or play. There was, after all, the seven month hiatus of 2009, although that was during my pregnancy. But this feels different. All the other times we went through dry spells as far as actual activity, Nick still made verbal references to his authority. This time around it’s as if he’d never taken on the responsibility in the first place.

I’ve purposely refrained from bringing it up because I just haven’t had the spare strength to deal with the inevitable feelings of insecurity and burdensomeness. And I always told myself that I’d let it go if it ever got to the point that it was no longer doing our marriage any good. It seems clear that we’ve reached that point.

There’s a tiny voice in the back of my mind saying “See! I told you he doesn’t love you enough to do this without you pestering him!” And while I can mostly dismiss that as my insecurities bubbling up, I have to admit that there is some small truth in it too. And so it has come down to this: Does he love me enough to ever really wholeheartedly make a commitment to having a DD marriage? Or do I love him enough to not try to make him? The fact is, I can’t answer for him, although I suspect what the true answer might be. But I can answer for me. The question really boils down to this: “Do I love him more than I love me?” and the answer is yes, of course I do. And so I have to let it go. It may be that I’m wrong (as I have been before), and if so, I’ll be glad to be so. But this time I have to be the one to make a real commitment to being the wife he needs me to be, the wife that lives under his authority by never making him exercise it. After all these years, I think I may be getting the hang of it.