Being a sub
– You can’t destroy me unless you take my pride, take it away, and I will have nothing.
This got me pensive. What is pride? – I had no answer. I closed my eyes trying to imagine what it feels like to have pride and thought about Jim – endless planes, yachts, and houses; narcissism and power, inescapable excellence and unavoidable success.
I gave him a call, I was curious. – Do you have pride?
– Don’t you want to say ‘hi’? – his voice was bitter and pathetic
– I want to know your thoughts on pride
– Why does it even matter now? We are not even together.
– Did I hurt your pride?
– What do you think?
Speaking to him was hard, I hung up, I still had feelings. His pride was the size of his 14 square foot home, I could not deal with it, I left.
Early morning in bed, focusing on my body in search of what google defined as pride -“a feeling of being good and worthy”. I could not find or feel anything.
“Take away my pride, and I will have nothing”, – I had nothing. No regrets no sorrow.
I was a sub in relations. I was giving in myself completely, melting, dissolving, relinquishing all my powers and control. I felt empty, non-existent, unable to identify myself with anyone or anything, surrendering my body, my ego, my pride, my self-worth, my values, my beliefs.
I was a sub, going with a flow, being quiet when asked, speaking when allowed, serving in bed and in the kitchen, being available to the needs of my master 24/7.
I was a sub. The pride was crushed, I was capable of sensing and perceiving the world freely without hysterical attempts to hold on to my self-identity. I could be whatever my master wanted me to be, I could switch the personalities like undies. I could flip from a slave to a master, attaining the lost control, going as far as my master wanted me to go.
– Does not it bother you that he takes control over your life? It is manipulation and abuse, – my girlfriends could not grasp what it feels like to live outside the fixed self-identity, they were shocked, I was free, I had no pride, I did not care.
Jim was in his office when I came in later that day.
– Please buy me an apartment in Orlando.
He slowly moved his gaze from the laptop, dark eyes and relentless calmness. – Why Orlando?
– The energy of the big city, I want to feel it through my skin.
– I want to feel you.
– We broke up, it is over
– And you really think I am stupid enough to keep investing in you?
– I believe in miracles. It never hurts to ask.
– Come back, and we will see.
– No.
– Than go home and let me work.
His secretary knocked, I let her in. She was carrying a huge fruit basket, I helped her put it on the desk and took an apple. I was ready to leave.
– You asked me about my pride, Vixen, – Jim’s voice stopped me at the door. I turned around, I was curious. – I have none.
– Me too, Jim, I am a sub.
– I know. We match, we could do good together.
– Buy me an apartment.
– Take the fruit basket home.
The fruits were yummy, I ate them later on the beach smelling the ocean and listening to the seagulls. I had no pride, no identity, nothing. I did not exist, I felt happy.
