Feminist musings, Gender stereotypes, I am a girl, Learning to negotiate, Love, Male Lead Relationship stuff, Outside the Bedroom, Wonderboy

My share

I’ve had a lot to think about. I’ve had a lot of emotions to wade through.

After I stopped taking the hormones, and now stopped taking the anti-depressants too, I haven’t felt like I want sex. I haven’t even been able to masturbate. A couple of times I’ve felt the rare urge to come, but it’s been muted somehow. When I tried touching myself, it felt repulsive. I mean literally, the feeling of my fingers caressing my pussy was just all bad. It made me want to puke. So I haven’t done, well, almost anything.

We fucked last week once so that I came. The other time I just lay there, trying to connect and enjoy, but didn’t. When Wonderboy had come, I didn’t feel like I needed an orgasm. I felt like I hadn’t had sex. I felt… not numb, but detatched somehow. I was okay and I didn’t even have to try to convince Wonderboy about it. I was so mellow and okay that he knew I was fine. He asked me, if I liked, when he uses me like that and I said yes. I made sure, when he seemed so chipper about it all, that he did realize I hadn’t come. It’s important to me that he knows, if that happens. I like it when he uses me or hurts me, but he has to do it knowing what he’s doing. He answered gently,

There will be a time for orgasms, and caressed my head and pulled me close, gently.

It had the same effect as a child. He was convincing me that it’ll happen. It wasn’t meant to happen now. I felt safe.

What I have been feeling, though, hasn’t been safe or loved. It’s been angry. After all the medication of both kinds had left my body I felt positively angry. I saw things I hadn’t let myself see before.

I was angry at Wonderboy, because I realized even though we’ve decided to be totally equal and do all the housework 50/50, I end up doing a lot more. He just doesn’t do it and at some point I get fed up, working from home now I see all the shit every hour of every day, and then I do most of the stuff. I realized this, when I fell really, dramatically ill a few weeks back. It was a stomach flu that only touched him, but put me to bed for 5 whole days. I haven’t been as sick ever in my adult life without going to the hospital. I managed to walk to the bathroom and back, but that was it. I couldn’t read or even watch anything from my computer, because that made me feel nauseaus. I just slept through the days, vomited, tried to drink some water and was in so much pain.

And it was my turn to go to the store. When I asked Wonderboy to please go and get some juice and whatever he needed, because I was just way too sick to do it, he said you can do it tomorrow, when you’re better. The next day I asked him to go to the store, and he finally did after many pleads. He came back with only one carton of juice and not anything else for me. The next day I had to plead again for him to go to the store, I even had to make it into an argument before he did, and he still forgot to bring me the yogurt I asked for.

This, for me, was a huge epiffany. I’ve gone to the store on his turn, when he’s been tired of work. When he’s had to use public transport and I’ve had the car. When he’s been working late, has been sick or is feeling blue. I’ve sometimes done it surprise him. I’ve sometimes done it without asking him, sometimes he’s asked me, sometimes he’s… what’s the word… blackmailed me into it. He might have said he’d be too tired to do anything with me, if he also has to go to the store.

I’ve always thought he’d do the same for me in a heartbeat. I just never ask. He just never does it.

Now I realize that even, when I’m so ill I can barely make it to the bathroom, it isn’t enough reason for him to help me. He only went to the store, when he wanted something, not when I needed the juice, because I couldn’t keep anything solid down.

I also realized that he was totally thrown by my sickness. He couldn’t face that I was sick. He kept asking me, if I’d get something for him from the other room and even nagged (yes, I’m going to use that word here) about, how he had to do all the food, that he ate alone, alone. That I wasn’t there helping him. I pointed it out to him that he was the only one A) hungry B) able to eat food C) in good enough health to stand the required time to even cook. But he was persistant and I was really ill and not really in a very good situation to negotiate and defend my case. I fell asleep and he was left to brew.

At first, when I got well enough to think – that’s what I do best – I was just pissed off. Just. Really. Really. Pissed. Off.

I noticed a lot of the same thing in a lot of situations. It wasn’t just, when I was sick, it was every day, everywhere. And I put a wall between us. I needed a wall. I needed a break from anything sexual with him, especially anything d/s, since he wasn’t filling up his end of the bargain. The deal was that he could dominate me, even 24/7 use me in whatever way he desired, if at the bottom of it we would share the same responsibilites and he was doing his part of housework, paying bills and generally caring for our family. He didn’t and hasn’t done. He’s let himself slide right back in where he was while he lived with his mother.

So I started enforcing our deal every time he hadn’t done what he ought to. I didn’t concern myself with thoughts like “ooh, he must be tired”, “it’s too late”, “he’s had a long day” or anything. I just plainly said what he needed to have done already and when he trew a tantrum about it, I just kept insisting that he do it, because it was his responsibility. He threw the mom card at me, like he always does. He got angry, because I hadn’t informed him early enough, so how could he have known. I didn’t fall for it. I calmly said that it was his responsibility, and he needs to do it without me reminding him over and over again. I also said that I’m not his mother and he needs to learn to do these things by himself, automaticly, just like I have.

First time I tried to ask him do something for me, and he didn’t, I slept in the other room. I also threw all the dirty laundry on the floor – I’d been waiting for almost two months for him to do them – and gathered all the shit he’d just left lying around in one place (packages, paper, bills, bottles, anything) that I would’ve usually just sorted and recycled as the day went by and I would pass by it. When I woke up, he came to me, careful and pleading, and asked what was wrong. I told him I didn’t accept what he had been doing, how he was acting. I told him he had not made me believe that he cares about my career or respects my work and the work I put in our home. I told him that it felt very wrong to me that he would have a room to himself and just stay there by himself and then shit all over my workplace in the other room and not care at all about my space. He apologised and promised to change his ways. He immediately cleared my work table of his belongings and generally tried to show me that he cared.

The second time I did this he slept in the other room, angry. I reminded him to sweap my office table from the coffee he’d spilt and some other minor things, and since it was late and he was tired, he just blew up at me. This was the point where I told him I wasn’t his mother and that he needs to learn to do these things on his own. Otherwise…

I didn’t actually say the otherwise out loud. But I was so mad at him that I seriously considered leaving him, if things don’t change. I thought that I can’t live my life suffocated by responsibilities like this. That I will become so bitter. And I thought, this was the thought, the big ball of ugly feeling I had in the bottom of my stomach, that I couldn’t have a child with him, if living with only him meant that I had to take care of everything. How would it be with a child? This was not what I wanted. I signed up for an equal relationship. I had done my share. Where was his?

I didn’t have to tell him, how I felt. He could feel it. He knew that this was the last straw. This was it. He’d have to change.

So, when he came back from work after he’d slept in the other room, he immediately, from the door, asked, if there were things he could do. Trash he could take out, laundry he could wash…

It’s been, I think, a little over than a week from the blowout, maybe two. When I spent a night at my dad’s and came back, he had tidied up the whole apartment, taken out trash, sweapt the counters and tables. He has never done anything like it before. He has also done a lot of laundry. I have yet to hear him complain about his duties. He’s been, I think, more loving, if something. He’s been careful and gentle with me. He has felt, how I don’t desire him and he’s tried to make it right. He’s realized, rightly so, that sometimes not wanting sex and not desiring him isn’t something that’s really about sex at all.

And I think that’s why.

I put my hand on his cock yesterday. I felt it grow a little. I kissed him, but he didn’t kiss me back like I wanted. He was still cautious.

I know what I want today, I said.

What? he smiled tentatively.

I took a pause and then licked the air in front of him a bit.

You want me to lick you? he asked.

Yeah, I smiled and buried my head in my hands, then looked up at him and smiled. Yeah, I’d really like that.

If you’re a good girl, he said.

That’s so unfair! How can I know, if I’ve been a good girl or not! I said, laughing.

We’ll see.

When we fucked I was more assertive than ever. I told him I wanted him to lick me. I told him I wanted to be on top of him for him to slap my butt and for me to feel his cock at the same time. He didn’t oblige to me, he made his own decisions. Made me wait. Made me beg. It made us so happy.

When we were through, or so I thought, he went on to start licking me like I’d asked before.

I don’t think I can have another orgasm so quickly, I said and he came back to cuddle me.

I want it to be know that I was ready to do it, though, he said.

Next time I will not give in into the d/s play. He will do as I tell him, right away. I have no patience for waiting anymore. I wanted him to lick me before, not after. This will not do, no matter, how hot it is for me to lick him.

My share can’t be just to obey. It can’t be to carry all the responsibilites and then having no say. It has to be equal in building this relationship. I need my voice back.

Standard

12 thoughts on “My share

  1. AndrewVanbergen says:

    Wow, that’s a shame. I’m glad there are signs of it getting better!

    Assuming it does get better, something you may want to discuss is not just how responsibilities are split, but when to do something. Like, my dishwasher is usually full of clean dishes and one bowl of the double-bowled sink has dirty dishes soaking; however my ex very much preferred to have dirty dishes in the dishwasher. So we had different ideas on when it would get done, which led to her doing it all before I thought it was time. Doing my share (which I failed at) also meant adopting her standards.

    Perhaps you can pick tasks where you both like the way he does it, and make those his; if he doesn’t do them, they don’t get done?

  2. Before Grace and I moved to the contract we have now, we had what we referred to as a 51/49 relationship. We shared chores, we shared in the decision making process… the only time the percentage came into play was if a decision could go either way it became my call as to whether or not to do it. I had the deciding vote. But even now with the power share even more in my favor, she can still get onto me when I’m being stupid. Especially about health concerns and such. The way I look at it is this, whatever D/s contract you make is secondary to the contract you have in the relationship itself. The two are supposed to work hand and hand, but that isn’t always the case. And when they aren’t in tandem, the relationship always takes precedent. Of the two, its always the harder to fix if something goes wrong.

  3. Andrew,

    yeah, I think it’s probably a good idea to set a date, so to speak, since we seem to have different ideas about the lenght of time appropriate for, say, taking out the bio trash. (I love the smell of old banana peels in the morning…) We’ve been trying to find standards we could both live by. I think that WB doesn’t see some mess, like dust, as a problem, because he isn’t used to cleaning it. Ever. I, on the other hand, am. Teaching him to notice dirt he doesn’t seem to seems just like such an exhausting task. I’d like to not be able to notice it myself. 🙂

    We already have a pretty strict deal: we rotate weeks. One week A is responsible for dishes and B for shopping and then it changes. Vacuuming is supposed to happen once a month (it used to be once a week, but somehow it never got done…) and laundry whenever needed. We keep a checklist in the kitchen and try to balance it out, if the other one has done a lot more. It’s never WB, though, and when I got angry I was keeping the lead of everything. And I really don’t like cleaning. Neither of us want to do any housework. 🙂 We’re the same in that respect.

    What especially pisses me off is that these checklist activities aren’t even the bare minimum. What about the trash, the bottles, the cans, the papers? What about arranging things, cleaning the toilet or the tables? There’s just too much to divide, if everything needs a checklist. Or what do you think? How do you guys divide housework?

  4. Duality,

    The way I look at it is this, whatever D/s contract you make is secondary to the contract you have in the relationship itself.

    Exactly. This is the hard one. Maymay wrote about it once. He talked about different layers and how to keep them separated, if needed. Some aspects of our relationship are more important than others. For me, I think, the most important thing is to keep feeling equal, because that makes me feel respected and valued. I don’t feel equal, I feel betrayed and used (in the wrong way), if I just happen to have to do everything.

    Is your power share now something like domestic servitude? I’m actually really intrigued by that. And by intrigued I mean hopelessly turned on and drawn to it. But my feelings of unfairness outweight any desire I have for domestic things. I don’t want it to become a normal thing. I want it to be special. Appreaciated. Marveled. Understood. I want to be praised and cherished for my service.

  5. AndrewVanbergen says:

    The problem I see with alternating weeks is that as you have higher standards, you’re going to leave whatever it is cleaner after your week, you’re going to inherit it dirtier at the beginning of your week, and you’re going to see it dirtier during his week. He’s going to feel like you’re picky and you’re going to feel like he’s not doing his share, if you both do it according to your own standards. Getting him to do it the way you like it also raises problems; how is it fair to require him to keep house the way you like it instead of how he likes it?

    I didn’t resolve this successfully in my marriage. What I think in retrospect that I should have done was take on a certain number of defined tasks, which could either be done to my standards (e.g. taking care of the dogs, where my standards were higher), or could be done on a defined calendar schedule (e.g. load/unload the dishwasher once a day and run if full rather than load/unload it when my wife would). The long-term successful marriages I know of all divide tasks rather than time, though that may be because being old, they all involve some gender typing.

  6. Yeah, I really don’t approve of divided tasks. I just don’t.

    I fix things and take mostly care of the car and lights etc, anyway. What’s he supposed to be doing, then? Just taking out the trash? Not bloody likely.

    Most of the masculine chores are things that don’t need to be done that often, the car for example, and dishes and laundry is there every day… How is that equal? If we both get things dirty, we both should clean. And I’ve already tried that and it didn’t work out.

    I’m actually really happy about the system we have now, it’s just that it doesn’t encompass all that needs to be done – that’s the problem. Because all the things not on the list are just left undone… unless I do them or… negotiate for him to do them every time individually.

    I really don’t consider myself to have higher standards for laundry, dish washing (we don’t have a machine) or shopping, which are the divided things. Those things work out alright. I wouldn’t be okay with doing all the shopping nor would I with doing all the dishes or vacuuming. (Especially the shopping – this plot is also to divide the expenses, not only workload. It’s easier to buy cheaper things my week, if I’m shit out of cash than it is to negotiate that he only buy cheap food.)

    There’s really no system that would be equal, if the other person takes less responsibility over the tasks than the other. The only thing that needs to change is WB’s idea of his responsibilities. This is not a workplace and I’m not his boss. If he would be living alone, as he was, he would be just doing his laundry and his washing up and his dinner and paying his bills. Right? I’m just not gonna let it slide anymore. If he doesn’t do his shit, then he’ll find that his shit will fall to pieces.

  7. AndrewVanbergen says:

    Most of the masculine chores are things that don’t need to be done that often, the car for example, and dishes and laundry is there every day… How is that equal?

    It’s not. A divided tasks approach would mean he had to take sole responsibility for some of the stereotypically feminine tasks, like dishes or laundry.

  8. Yeah. As I said, I’ve tried it and for me it ends up feeling unfair. Also, when both have to do the same chores in a rotation, we’re sure to appreciate the work the other has done, because we have to do it ourselves and we remember how hard it is. In my past relationship I was responsible for the dishes, because he just never did them – and he was supposed to be responsible for the laundry. Well, he did laundry like twice a month – and the dishes had to be done every day. I’m not gonna make a deal like that in the future. I’ve also noticed that “giving money” or “putting it on the joint account” makes the SO who doesn’t go to the store a lot more suspicious on how much everything was and what did you buy. When you have to go yourself, make the decision on the foods you eat together and keep an eye on what’s at home, it’s a lot more clear. I don’t like to negotiate about money very often, but I also want to be in charge of my own. WB going to the store for us every other week is also a lesson for him to take me into consideration, so he’d learn what I need and eat.

  9. Wow. Maybe it would be a good idea to alternate days with the every-day stuff, and alternate weeks with the weekly stuff.

    As for shopping, I’d make a list, and if you take turns shopping, the list is followed. You can have a conversation about what variations can go on the list each time. Most of your weekly items would be standard stuff you always buy, but each week would have certain extra things on the list for that week’s meals that you would agree to in advance when making the list.

    It sucks when you feel like you are doing everything yourself, and worse when you can see that all you’re doing is not appreciated.

  10. Mac says:

    maybe keep things the way you do it now with alternating weeks, but since that doesn’t seem to be working perfectly, maybe try changing things up by doing certain tasks on specific days – aka every sunday, it’s time to dust, so every sunday one of you is dusting…maybe that will help in making sure everything gets done & that both parties are doing their fair share of each task?

  11. Thanks for the idea, Mac and thanks for commenting. It so happens that that was the first thing we tried. We still kinda are supposed to take all the recyclable out on the weekends. It just rarely gets done. And vacuuming every thursday (before the weekend!) turned into vacuuming every 4-7 weeks…

    But!

    I didn’t vacuum for 2 months to prove a point. (I think. It felt like 2 months. Might have been less.) There were dust bunnies everywhere and even Wonderboy noticed. When he commented on it first I just didn’t do it like he has before done. Finally when he didn’t just hint but said straight out that it was time to vacuum, I just laughed and shaked my booty at him and threatened him I still wouldn’t do it. I also said “how does it feel now that you are the one who has to wait for our house to get clean, huh?” I did vacuum the next day. He, on the other hand, started to defend himself and claimed that I must be the one who never vacuums. He said “maybe we should start counting the time it takes!” I laughed at him. The reason? Because I had already been counting the weeks! When I vacuumed in 1 or 2 weeks, he did so in 6 to 7 weeks after I’d asked him to do it many times. 🙂

    Wow. Never thought housework would become such an integral part and such a great symbol of how well the relationship is doing!

    As he has started doing his share after I told him in pretty harsh words about his responsibilities and didn’t cut him any slack anymore our relationship has been greatly affected. I’m more happy, the sex is better, he’s more happy.

    Why would anyone not do their share when it gets them these crazy great results?

  12. Thanks Ticklish for your comment.

    We use the list when we’re about to make something special, but he already knows what are the must have items. It’s just that he doesn’t keep an eye on what’s low and sometimes doesn’t remember, when I’ve alerted him (even a couple of times) when we’re out of something. For him to fully take on his responsibilities, he needs to know what we have and don’t have, when he goes to the store. He would be doing that, if he lived alone, right? And I alert him, when something only I use is needed. So, who would be doing the list and taking on the responsibility that it contains everything we happen to need? It’s not once or even twice he’s accused me, when we’re out of something, because I didn’t tell him. Because he just doesn’t even realize that it’s really not my job to keep him informed and keep us in stock. This is what you get when you end up marrying someone who’s only ever lived with their mother before you. Pfff.

    But that’s also why I’ve ended up with these set of rules for us. Alternating weeks with alternating responsibilities, so it’s harder to just blame the other one. 😉 You gotta learn to take responsibility of yourself and your life.

Your thoughts

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s