Today was a lesson in peace.

Finding peace in my decision to continue to work through the reasons for our breakup. Peace in knowing that while my efforts may not pay off in the form I most hope for, they will no matter what still benefit me in the long run. Peace in knowing that I will always love and serve Him, no matter what may come.

My mentor encouraged me to try meeting someone new. An experienced Dominant, with interests similar to my own. This new Dominant is searching for a partner and was hopeful to meet me.

His introduction came in form of shoes. Christian Louboutin shoes. A pair of absolutely gorgeous pointy toed “So Kate” pumps which I have been lusting after for months. My mentors wife obviously shared my secret shoe lust with this new Dominant after our shopping trip earlier this week.

The shoes were delivered to my office, beautifully wrapped. Accompanying the shoes was a note which read, “It would make me a very happy man if you would wear these shoes to dinner with me Friday.”

Such a genuine, romantic gesture was unsettling to me. The shoes are obviously expensive. His words were simple, unpretentious and kind. This new Dominant is a powerful man, with the ability to take care of me in every way.

And yet, I passed on the offer. I returned those amazing shoes to him with a polite decline.

Instead, I came home tonight and watched my favorite movie, “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.”

Because in the end, you can’t help loving the one you love.

I’ve written before about the power of words, even when left unspoken.

But now it’s time to own up to the damage I’ve done with speaking words in anger.

I’ve learned something about myself lately. In learning to be vulnerable and submit to Him, I’ve become resentful of what I felt was uneven effort. There were times when I saw his role as my Dominant as an opportunity for Him to be selfish and guarded while still receiving love and attention from me. Over time, this resentment built into anger.

And that’s when disaster struck.

I became a sharp mouthed harpie in the end, and used words of anger to demonstrate to Him how much I was hurting. I hurt Him in the worst ways.

“In the end, I wanted more than you. I was willing to do whatever it took to be happy and create a life together. I was open to the possibility of anything as long as it meant having you. You just checked out.” I took His lack of open conversation and reassurance as rejection. Day in and day out, I sought out ways to open conversation that might turn to addressing our future. I would ask Him what His plans were, what was coming up for Him. He gave me short, clipped answers in return. Nothing spoke to a place in His life beyond the move, and over time that broke me down.

“You are always telling me actions speak loudly. The last few weeks have spoken volumes. You have made me feel unwanted and unworthy, and I should never have given you that power. I feel like I am constantly begging for your time or attention.” Admittedly, His life is full of intense challenges at the moment. He has to start over, create a new life outside of what He has always known. He has family, health, school, work and legal to overcome. Nothing is going to be easy for him. My job as His submissive was to create a safe place for Him to bring these challenges to light, to share that burden with me, and to move forward. In my increasing anxiety and strain on our relationship, I failed to give Him the space He needed in order to open up to me. My feelings of rejection became more of a roadblock to intimacy than I was realizing at the time.

“I hope you finally learn to live your life without lies and hurting others so deeply and selfishly.” I felt He was selfish. Selfish in excluding me from conversation we needed to have, from continuing to take the comfort that I offered to Him while denying me comfort in return. I neglected to understand that He was overwhelmed and needed me to be consistent and safe for Him. Lies? He didn’t lie outright. He omit. He omit information because He knew it would be a risk to be open with me. I had hoped our past had taught Him that I could handle anything he faced, and would stand beside Him always, but He felt I would not be receptive and chose instead to avoid. The isolation and rejection that created was painful to bare, and I failed at carrying that burden for Him selflessly.

“I’m expected to be available for you, to the extent that I gave up time with (my child) for you, and then you make me feel like an inconvenience in your life for doing so.” Commitment is vital to me as a woman. I crave time with Him. Physical connection with Him. Just being near Him fulfills me in a way that I never thought possible in the past. Making plans together, no matter what they were for, was something that I lived for. Because I received a small portion of his time, I would live for the moments I received with Him. I would carefully communicate with Him the opportunities available for us to spend time together, and like an eager child, I would wait for Him to chose when He would share time with me. If there were three opportunities for a night together, and He chose only one, it would slowly whittle away at my confidence. What was it about me that was not appealing to Him? Why didn’t He want me? When he would cancel plans together because He had forgotten His commitment to me and chose to do something else, it was the worst sort of pain to me. Not only did I feel rejected, but it was again a reminder that I had no place in His life outside of the kink. I would have given anything for Him to say “I made a mistake and committed to doing this with so-and-so, but why don’t you come with?” I felt that I was losing my sense of self, that making myself continually available to Him (outside of my parenting time) was making it too easy for Him, perhaps He needed to miss me in order to want me. I let myself fall back on vanilla-thinking rather than understanding that as His sub, this was my job to accept and accommodate. I should have been strong enough to carry the pain from this rejection and handle it without lashing out at Him.

“I have regrets. I regret that I didn’t push for more honesty. That I accepted half truths knowing it would be damaging. That I didn’t value myself and my gift of submission more. I should have respected myself more from the beginning.” I absolutely regret not valuing my submission. I can see now how a contract between us would have saved so much pain. I should have asked for the space to speak freely, rather than holding so much back. I should have asked that we address our problems with a contract, outlining our commitment to each other. All of the things that were slowly eating away at our bond could have been openly discussed and resolved simply with a contract. Had I been a strong sub, I would have created a contract and presented it to Him for His approval. Instead, I waited for Him to come to me. While in many situations this would have been appropriate, in this I was wrong. He deserved a woman who was unafraid to step forward and manage our relationship when He was not. This will always be my deepest regret.

“I would have done long distance or moved for you, B. You taught me to give up needing things to be absolute and to be open to my life unfolding different than I ever expected. Because having you was important. I just didn’t feel that you wanted me as well.” When we first met, I was very sure that I would never want to move away from my family. That I might want to be married again. That my daughter would be in Orange County for the foreseeable future, so I would as well. I see now how I created these absolutes that drew boundaries from the start.

Let me tell you, I was wrong. While in the past I may have needed the stability and security, I would walk through hell with Him and never blink an eye. I felt that I was making moves that communicated to Him how open I was to changing plans and adapting for Him. The opportunity to move with my child in the future came up, and I spoke openly to Him about it. My job will be come remote in the future, offering me the opportunity to work from anywhere in the US. The only two obstacles I faced in leaving were removed. Rather than sitting Him down and addressing with Him how this could impact our ability to be together beyond the immediate, I passively threw this information out. In doing so, I drove a wedge between us. I later learned that He took these steps as moves towards a future without Him in California, not where His own children are.

Let me be honest. I would do anything to be with him. That includes moving where He chooses, and working to build a life and foundation for us any way it takes. I have no desire to stay in California if it means being without Him.

In all of this, to be clear, I’ve never regretted Him. I’ve loved Him deeper than I’ve loved anyone in my past. I’ve gone from someone who would openly play with others in their partners presence, to not wanting anyone to even look at me. I wanted only Him. I craved only Him. I was wholeheartedly owned by Him in ways I had never anticipated and it was absolutely euphoric. The building of this bond was unexpectedly complex and complicated, but every ounce of effort paid out.

Never could I regret Him. I will bear this love for him for the rest of my life, and forever regret that I did not do more to build a life for Him filled with honesty and clarity together.

Ultimately what broke my relationship with Him was our lack of open, honest communication.

You know when you feel that something is off? When someone’s words don’t match up with their actions?

That’s exactly what I was dealing with.

There were so many times where I should have stopped, asked that we step out of our roles, and have an honest discussion. Opportunities where I could have steered our relationship back to the direction we wanted it to go in.

Ultimately, it came down to His life with and without me.

With me, He was a part of MY life. He met my friends and family. He spent the Christmas holiday with my daughter and my parents. He would admonish me when I didn’t make time with Him my priority. Our first few months together was not a lot of actual dating and more of a settling in. He would come over and I would care for Him. Making Him feel loved and appreciated made me happy.

Over time I began to see the chinks in the armor. I would ask to be included in His life, and He would avoid it. He introduced me to one friend, once. I had hoped that being collared would change this, but that never happened.

I had to sneak into His home. I was only allowed one night a week with Him. If He took a phone call, I had to leave the room. His phone was always on silent. When He was visiting His children, He could only call me when He was in the car alone. No texting. Only intermittent emails. All the clear signs of a man cheating on his wife.

Even though I knew He was married when we met, He had assured me they were divorcing. As complicated as His life was, I accepted his words as truth. Although every sign was there, I ignored them and carried on.

In the end, it was these unsaid truths that broke us.

My greatest regret is not stepping outside of my role as his submissive and calling out the obvious. Bringing the truth of our situation to light. Leaving the truth unsaid was ultimately the biggest dividing factor in our relationship.

I wish that He had trusted me more with His truth. I knew in my heart that I was the mistress, in spite of being very clear that I didn’t want to be in that position. I knew that He was afraid of being alone, of being unloved, and that he would do anything to get what He wanted.

What I wish He had known was that I could accept the truth of the situation and love Him in spite of it.

I knew He was going back. I knew He was lying to me daily. I knew it because of the anonymous text messages I would receive. Messages showing me His wife’s social media posts about Him, their family, their love, her excitement at His homecoming. No one would post that much about a man they were divorcing.

I didn’t blame Him. I tried to understand. Mentally, I prepared myself for the hard discussion I hoped would come from Him. I wanted to be able to accept His truths without anger, without pain, and give Him the space to see what we were capable of with the truth in the open.

It never happened.

Instead, those words are still left unsaid. He loosely acknowledges them, but still avoids. I know that financially it is his best option. He has mountains to climb.

Seeing Him go back to what made Him unhappy breaks my heart. Knowing I am losing Him because I wasn’t strong enough to stand beside Him through the painful months to come is physically painful. I know He was wrong to mislead me intentionally, yet I will always love Him enough to forgive Him.

My mentor has asked me, “In a perfect world, what do you wish would happen?”

My answer?

I wish He would give me the truth. All of it. And then we could sit down and make a plan for ourselves. Find a way to work through the pain to come and make ourselves stronger. For ourselves and for each other. I am capable of loving him even through the hard months ahead. It doesn’t matter to me what we would have to go through, as long as the goal was to be happy and honest in the long run.

Ultimately, I would give anything to belong to Him forever. To be the woman He can be His true self with. Watching Him change, knowing this is because of the stresses he is facing ahead, is slowly breaking me. He deserves to be openly happy and loved in the way that only a true submissive can give Him.

Lust. Gluttony. Greed. Sloth. Wrath. Envy. Pride.

In a “lifestyle” relationship, Lust wouldn’t normally be considered a sin. Your lust for your partner can challenge the boundaries of a traditional relationship. Your lust for others, rather then being a dirty topic left unspoken of, becomes something to share openly with your loved one. You lust for each other on a level beyond the social norm.

In my case, my lust for my Dominant led me to allow fear and insecurity to creep in. The physical connection with my Dominant was one so deep, it far surpassed anything I had experienced previously. I became afraid of my Dominant’s freedom to choose someone else, afraid of being easily replaced. I let self-doubt overwhelm me and create a silent wall behind Him and I. My lust for my dominant led me to funnel my energy into sexual experiences with Him that did not fulfill Him in the way they should have, nor allow Him to bring others into our relationship as I had previously promised.

Gluttony, not in the traditional sense of over eating, but in my deliberate ignorance of my Dominants direct instructions to better care for myself. My Dominant gave me his instructions not out of control, but out of love. I knew that He wanted me to care for myself, to be a healthy partner as well as more attractive for Him, and I allowed myself to make excuses for why this was not a priority. My Dominant warned me that ignoring his directive would undermine our bond, and still I persisted with my carelessness and gluttony.

Ah, Greed. The way that I so selfishly coveted every free moment my Dominant had and resented when he did not share them with me. How I would become petulant and spiteful when I felt my copious needs were not being met. The more my Dominant gifted me with himself, the more I craved. I allowed my greed to overwhelm my Dominants wishes. I allowed my greed to turn me from mentally serving Him even while apart, to resenting our time apart and allowing it to push me from service into destructive behavior.

Sloth? Yes. Where I allowed myself to become lazy and failed to serve my Dominant in every way. Where I stopped working on our relationship. Stopped finding new ways to please Him. Stopped caring for him in all the small ways that should have been a daily occurrence. Stopped making his comfort and well being my priority. Rather than give of myself freely, I began to feel as though I didn’t need to put effort into the relationship as I felt my Dominant was not. I should have had more faith in Him, to know that He was giving me the chance to prove myself to Him, rather than become lazy and discontent.

Wrath. This is the big one. I can make excuse after excuse for why I did so, but the truth is, there is no excuse. I

In my frustration and depression, I turned hateful and angry. I used my words as weapons against Him and deliberately insulted and demeaned all of His gifts to me. I took his gift of Dominance and devalued it. Whether true or not, it did not matter, as I took what mattered most to Him and turned it against Him. If I had to choose one sin that was the most damaging to my Dominant, it would absolutely be Wrath.

Over the course of our relationship, I experienced Envy in ways I never had before. I was envious of His wife, as she was His in a way I never will be. I was envious ofhis friends, whom He spent so much of his time with. Envious of anyone I felt He shared more of Himself with than I received. (Greed popped it’s way back in again, didn’t it?) Envious of the women that he desired. Envious of how easily He would laugh with other women while I so deeply craved the gift of His beautiful smile. Envious of His wife, when she gave Him another child He so deeply loves. Envious of the family that He is leaving to be with. Envy crept in at every turn, and rather than keep my faith and trust in my Dominant, my jealous monster took over and created damage at every turn.

In the end, my Pride is what brought us down. While I should have humbled myself willingly and surrendered all to my Dominant, I continually undermined his Dominance and refused to submit fully. I allowed my selfish pride to become a lazy excuse for insolence and deliberate disobedience. Rather than serve my Dominant as He deserved, with absolute submission and trust, I allowed my pride to create limits where there should not have been.

My sins were great during the course of our relationship, and all of them led to a gradual undermining and weakening until eventually my sins far outweighed my submission.