Once upon a time a clumsy and highly expressive little girl often found herself quarreling with, well, everyone. This little person spoke with a continued contradiction of both reserve and carefree abandonment. Although confrontation was most often awkward for this child she still chose to embrace her voice and for every time she was told no she felt a tiny part of her begin to withdraw. As the years passed, the now young lady, often found herself in a conundrum of wanting to express her feelings but hesitating not wishing to create an upset. As she struggled with her nervousness she stumbled upon a handsome man who appreciated her honesty and intensely expressive demeanor. At first she was shy; however, with time and extensive encouragement, the voice which had been quieted for so long, was at last heard.

Communication has been a fundamental element to mine and Master's relationship. In moments of happiness and or upset Master and I have relied on our words, ensuring we verbally express what we are feeling and thinking and in doing so, acknowledge what the other is experiencing and offering the appropriate support to one another. This belief has been instilled in me and my view on our relationship since the very first days of our time together which is why I was taken aback with the exchange between Master and myself the other day.

As often the case, Master and I were enjoying each others company, conversing about a plethora of topics when the interest somehow turned to my privileges. (Unfortunately I am unable to recall what provoked this turn of events in our exchange; however, the how is not as important as the why and what.)

I have been under the impression throughout our three years that I had the privilege of speaking my opinion when I wanted and how I wanted. Not only do I immerse myself in having this luxury, Master has, to my thinking, nurtured and fostered such beliefs. These thoughts came to a crashing halt mind you when Master asked me: "Do you think you take your privileges for granted"? I am most certain Master could see my expression clearly for I was most surprised by such a question. Before answering, as I am a responsive sort, I took a moment to reflect on his words, and after a few minutes I replied, "No Master, I do not believe I take my privileges for granted. I realise we are not under the same roof and although I do not ask to use the ladies room, to have a drink of water or something to eat, to watch a television show and so forth I always am aware that you have granted me blanket permission to do so".

Master in his endless patient ways provided me with a tender smile then spoke. "No baby girl, that is not what I mean. I am referring to when you are speaking your opinion, using your voice. Do you know how many slaves would love to have the liberty you have. You need to understand though that I own all of you, this includes your voice, includes your opinion. Speaking your mind is a privilege. You need to understand this." As each word left Masters mouth I felt a sharp sting penetrate me. I could not believe what Master was saying. How could he, after all this time, after knowing how difficult it has been to open up and share and now, now he is saying I have to 'ask' for permission to speak my mind before doing so?

Although I was speechless, I was speaking volumes with my facial expressions. Immediately Master's voice grew softer and I could hear the words that often melt my reserve, "baby girl, you do not have to hold it in, let it go, it's okay". Master was referring to the immediate tears which were trying desperately to escape my eyes and stain my cheeks. I did not want to release though, I was still overwhelmed by all the unexplained emotions and I did not wish to give my tears to Master, not in that moment. I felt compelled to retain that control, even if it was of a pseudo nature, but still I did not desire to feel. My silence was deafening and although all thoughts were running races through my mind, I was unable to focus on any one of them. All I could hear was Masters voice, soothing, gentle and as always patient, his desire to have me release my reserve unfaltering.

After a lengthy effort of trying to compose myself I was able to share with Master my disbelief: "Master I do feel honoured to have such privileges. I was under the impression that you have granted me blanket permission to use my voice, express my voice and to share my opinions and feelings without asking". My eyes were focused on Master as I spoke and remained fixated on his gaze when he replied, "Baby girl I am sorry. This is my error then. I should have been clear with you. You need to understand now though, your words, voice, feelings, they are mine. I own them. And I do wish for you to remain strong in your views but you need to know they are mine and there will be times when you will not be permitted to have your opinion. There will be times when you will just obey".

I took a long pause, allowed Masters words to paint me, the colour sinking deep within my core. I sat, quietly, absorbing all that Master and I had shared during the course of our lengthy conversation. I remember looking at Master, seeing the tenderness in his eyes and I could, once more, feel his love. Master then spoke with me, his voice never wavering, always enchanting and encouraging and yet I was distant. I had withdrawn from Master, bundled up my emotions and was not ready to deal with all that transpired. I was not angry with Master nor was I happy, I was confused and I confess a part of me still is.

As I mentioned previously in this entry, I am a reactive person. I tend not to think before responding to a comment and I have been working diligently to reflect first then respond second. My immediate response with Master throughout the course of our conversation was to blurt out 'unfair'. Instead I pondered and still am. I know Master owns me and I also am aware Master loves me. I believe Master will never harm me and I believe Master will, more often than not, take my feelings into consideration and push me but never break me.

This experience with Master has brought forth many lessons and thoughts; however, one that resounds a rather large question mark is the knowledge that I have not found resolution with our conversation. This is new for me, for I have, until now always reached resolution.

I have not reached the shore but my head is above water and my water wings are attached.

~His completely owned baby girl

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