I’m insecure and I need a lot of attention. I’m very sensitive and in some ways, very broken. One of the hardest lasting effects of being with a narcissist is just how deep the insecurity goes. Narcs use “gaslighting” to manipulate those around them. If you aren’t familiar with the term, here’s the definition:

“Gaslighting is a form of psychological abuse used by narcissists in order to instill in their victim’s an extreme sense of anxiety and confusion to the point where they no longer trust their own memory, perception or judgment. The techniques used in “Gaslighting” by the narcissist are similar to those used in brainwashing, interrogation, and torture that have been used in psychological warfare by intelligence operative, law enforcement and other forces for decades. The intention is to, in a systematic way, target the victim’s mental equilibrium, self confidence, and self esteem so that they are no longer able to function in an independent way. Gaslighting involves the abuser to frequently and systematically withhold factual information from the victim, and replacing it with false information. Because of it’s subtly, this cunning Machiavellian behaviour is a deeply insidious set of manipulations that is difficult for anybody to work out, and with time it finally undermines the mental stability of the victim. That is why it is such a dangerous form of abuse. The emotional damage of Gaslighting is huge on the narcissistic victim. When they are exposed to it for long enough, they begin to lose their sense of their own self. Unable to trust their own judgments, they start to question the reality of everything in their life. They begin to find themselves second-guessing themselves, and this makes them become very insecure around their decision making, even around the smallest of choices. The victim becomes depressed and withdrawn, they become totally dependent on the abuser for their sense of reality. In effect the gaslighting turns the victim’s reality on its head.”

Every day, I question myself several times. Did I do this or that well enough? What am I doing? Why did I say that? Did I do enough? Why didn’t I do more? Am I a good mom? A good wife? A good sub? Does Papa love me? Does Papa want me? ….the questions and internal battles that rage inside my head on a daily basis would probably drive most people insane. It drives me insane sometimes. Then enters the moods. You’re being stupid. Stop being ridiculous, I tell myself. Putting myself down for feeling or thinking one way or the other. It’s maddening. Another step to reclaiming myself and getting better is knowing this and the origin. Being a submissive sometimes doesn’t help me work on my decision-making skills or boost my insecurity but rather lets me hide behind being a sub. I’m scared to make decisions and I question my ability to do so. I’m scared to stand up for myself, even now, even with Papa. I question the validity of my feelings and with enough “pep talk” convince myself to accommodate everyone and everything else. The hardest part? Trying to figure out how much of this is driven by my natural personality and how much is habit from being broken down over several years into submission. I’ll never really know the answer to that. All I can do is go forward. 



I love when those soft kisses lead to the harder ones….the fire ignites and each stroke of the tongues against each other helps the fire build a little higher. The flames growing until I’m on top, soaking wet and dizzy with passion, breathing deeply as His cock slips inside me. My pelvis grinding against His as His mouth finds my nipple and the tongue is now massaging it, fueling my passion for Him, for us, for our love…until my my body freezes, shuddering in ecstacy. Once the orgasmic tension releases me, I bring Him to orgasm and collapse at His side. 


He went down on me and just when I came, He choked me. My orgasm exploded, radiating all over my body. The world went away for a split second and sent me spiraling into sub space. My body shook, tears welled up in my eyes as He held me, calming me from this unexpected reaction. It was amazing and frightening at the same time. It scared Papa just a bit as that was certainly not what He was expecting, same for me. I came around, calm and subdued. There’s nothing like a good choke to remind a subbie of her place. 


I have a belly….and it’s taken me a long time to be ok with it. But up until now, I’ve never been comfortable with nor have I let anone really touch my belly. Until now. Papa will grab a handful here and there or rub it when He walks by. I’m not self-conscious about it anymore like I would have been in the past. It’s a level of comfort that I never would have thought I would get to


We’ve been here a little over three months and the last few weeks have proven a little challenging. This is an adjustment for me. First, living in a whole new state. I lived in Vegas since 1986, it’s where I grew up and made all my friends though it never seemed to fit quite right. I was never completely happy there. Now I’m on the east coast and hardly know anyone. I have family here but we aren’t exceptionally close. Unfortunately I’ve never been the best at making friends or figuring out how to meet people other than the online aspect and work.  Add onto that that I’m not working, which is definitely a first for me. Seeing as I haven’t exactly had the best stay-at-home-mom role models, I haven’t had a whole lot of respect for them. The ones I’ve known were incredibly spoiled, spent oodles of money and had housekeepers and nannies while NOT working. I could never quite figure out just what they did with their time. Oh yea….shopped! Then there was Stripe. She wasn’t the best example either. Her house was a mess when her and Papa lived together. Dishes and laundry everywhere and the only time I really saw their place clean was when they had their Christmas party that first year. Couple that with feeling guilty that Papa is supporting me….there’s been a big whirlwind of crappy emotions inside me lately. When the kids aren’t with me, I get incredibly bored and lonely. It’s not that I don’t have things to do, it’s boredom with being alone. Papa has told me I need to focus on the things I have to be thankful for to help me out of this funk. He has a good point, I need to be reminded of the time I get to spend with the kids, the time that I didn’t get to spend with them last year because I was working and Stripe watched them all the time. I do appreciate it, maybe not every single moment because there are some hard ones when I want to pull my hair out, but I am thankful we are finally in a position where I get to have that time with them. It’s getting through the weeks when they’re gone that are proving to be difficult. I have no choice but to depend on Papa for the love and attention that I need and crave. The hardest part is when somthing else comes up and brings all this boiling to the surface at the same time. He said I need to figure out what I’m feeling and why. I know what it is and I don’t know how to get past it. I don’t value what I’m doing enough and therefore feel like a drag on Papa instead of contributing to our household. He reminds me of the opposite all the time. There’s the first step: I know what it is I’m feeling. Now I need to figure out how to pull myself out.