Lollipops and skipping ropes

There was a song I used to sing when I was little, it was on a record my dad bought me and occasionally it’s lyrics run through my mind. A reminder I suppose of innocent days before my parents separated. It was the B side to the ramblers track “only a poor little sparrow” but I loved it.

You can find it on YouTube of course but it’s a poor quality recording.

I think it always reminded me of my dad so that’s why I liked it.

After the last few days, getting back out on my bike and today going to the bike show, my dad is on my mind.

He was a biker. Some of my earliest memories are of sneaking into the barn where his bike was kept and climbing onto it.

I remember the leather sticking to my thighs (my mum insisted on dressing me in skirts) as I tried to climb on it and how I could never reach the handle bars.

I remember sitting in front of him as he rode the bike up and down the lane and feeing so free and safe.

Now of course he is no longer with us, but I feel him with me when I ride my bike.

Mr H is now the man who makes me feel free and safe.. which is how it should be… your partner (whatever sex/gender they may be) takes the place of your parents as the source of safety, of freedom, of encouragement and love.

I know for many years I resisted allowing Mr H to take on that role. The pain and disappointment I felt when my first husband let me down by being unfaithful and the hurt from my step dads mental and physical abuse meant I was determined to be self sufficient. I wanted to protect myself and didn’t allow myself to be vulnerable.

I think this prevented me from fully embracing our relationship and his love.

I think this is one of the reasons that orgasm was elusive so many times – it meant letting go of my self control.

Embarking on this D/s journey meant I had to let go of that and embrace the vulnerability I felt.

I’m so glad I did.

I’m so glad he said yes.

While lollipops don’t really feature in our relationship (unless there’s ice cream in them) rope certainly does. Mr H ties me and binds my body. With each twist securing me, each wrap relaxing me, each tug reminding me I am his.

Sweetgirl x

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