IN WHICH SHE ANSWERS A QUESTION ABOUT WHY SHE IS A BABYGIRL

I have been asked a question in a comment on a previous post and wanted to write an entry in response to it. But, because I am such a bad blogger (Bad Blogger! No biscuit!) it has taken me an age to get around to posting here again, and to answering the question posed to me. The comment was posted by beautifullyhuman in response to this post about myths surrounding the babygirl dynamic.

I would like to know why do you consider yourself a baby girl, instead of a little girl, or would you consider yourself an Adult child like? Sincerely, bh

By beautifullyhuman

When I talk about myself as a babygirl I do so with a very specific definition in mind. I’ve talked about my personal definitions of different lifestyle dynamics in this post. Basically, my idea of being a babygirl has nothing really to do with regression (although, I have gone through an hypnotic age regression process which I found amazing, but perhaps more about that in another post), with episodic events of childlike behaviours (some people refer to this as being little or letting their little come out to play) or with any sort of age-play.

To me, being a babygirl is about the very sacred and primal archetype of belonging. I deeply feel that need to belong and to make myself of use. It wasn’t until about 8 years ago that I started to realise that this feeling was pointing towards the fact that I am a babygirl.

I used to chat on Yahoo.com quite often. There was a room there called ‘Women Who Want To Be Dominated’, and I used to frequent it, not as a woman who wanted to be dominted, but as a woman who wanted to dominate. Things in that room became quite strange after a while, and in an attempt to get away from it and away from that entire mainstream D/s idea, I popped into a room called ‘Daddydoms and babygirls’.

While in this room I met a number of people who were extremely enjoyable to spend time with. One of these people was A, and he and I started speaking via private message. It was amazing to be able to speak to someone who understood the higher philosophical ideas behind dominance and submission, someone who understood that part of the role of a dominant was to actually submit to these ideals, and that a master was ultimately called to master himself. The conversation progressed to a discussion about the Daddy/babygirl dynamic and what it all meant. I had never encountered it before, and was already struggling with the idea that I might just not be a dominant at all. I could look back on my life and see a pattern of wanting to serve and please – even my dominance was motivated by serving the submissive’s pleasure – now I see that this wasn’t actually dominance. After thinking for a long time about the DD/bg dynamic, and taking time to work through the stigma around incest and child abuse that the concept naturally brings to mind, I worked out that I wanted a Daddy. But, even more than wanting a Daddy was the fact that I wanted to SERVE a Daddy.

I want to be found precious and useful. I want to be humbled and realise my place as being lower than the dirt on the ground at his feet. It isn’t about diapers and pacifiers, pouting and play for me. It is about knowing my right place, and worshipping my Daddy as my Lord and Master.

IN WHICH SHE ADMITS THAT SHE HASN'T BEEN HERE IN SUCH AN AWFULLY LONG TIME

I am a bad blogger.

I love using this blog and talking about my feelings about A here, but for some strange reason I procrastinate and never actually write. Well, here is another empty promise to change that and to write more often.

Anyways, a catch up to what has been happening lately - I have been able to spend a lot of wonderful time with A thanks to Skype and more importantly thanks to his graciousness in allowing me into his presence. He is an amazing man.

I didn't think that I could come to love him anymore than I did, but apparently I was wrong because I am becoming quite obsessed with thinking about him and having my mind set on what his will is. I love the feeling that I am being guided by what his will might be in situations. I love the feeling that he is with me throughout my day. What I don't love is the feeling that he isn't with me in person.

T and I have talked a little about moving to the USA so that I can be closer to A. I really don't want to live in the US, and I love living in Australia and will miss it terribly. However, the thought that I am this far away from him pains me so much that at times I can't stand it... and the idea that I am literally wasting years that we could be spending together is intolerable to me. I have known and loved A for almost 7 years now and in that time I have spent less than a month actually in his presence.

When I was talking to him on Saturday he made a joke about me telling people that 'my Daddy' had told me something, and my heart skipped when I heard him call himself my Daddy. I asked him about it (because I can never leave anything alone), and he explained that he had been joking and said that I was being unfair by pointing it out in the way that I was doing. He is right, it was terribly unfair of me.

But I wanted so desperately for him to say that he had said it because he thinks about me as being his babygirl.

IN WHICH SHE IS ALLOWED TO SHOW INTELLIGENCE IN NEW AREAS

I am back from the USA. Back from Connecticut, and back from my visit with A.

It was both wonderful and confusing at the same time. And disappointing. Let me start backwards.

T and I arrived in the USA and straight away started coughing and sneezing with what we thought was just bad colds. However we were aware that having just spent 30-odd hours on public transport and traversing half of the globe, that there was a possibility that it could be the influenza H1N1 strain. So, on the day that I was meant to go and begin my visit I lay coughing and gagging (not in a fun way) on the wrong bed in the wrong state, speaking to him on the phone and trying to explain that I didn’t think I was well enough to visit.

The message that he received was that I didn’t want to visit and was unsure of our relationship after our last in depth conversation about Queer issues and his thoughts on Homosexuality and Lesbianism. It took much convincing to assure him that this wasn’t the case. Although at one point he asked me how I felt about him now that he had told me his thoughts, and I do have to admit that every time I think about it I feel angry with him. Even now.

After about three days of coughing, gagging, and phone calls (again… none of these were of the fun sort), we decided that I was well enough to come and visit. So he came to pick me up at T’s house. T and her mother had gone to visit other members of the family, so this time I was allowed to be alone when he picked me up. It was wonderful. There were long, bone-squeezing hugs and lots of smiling, and yet something was missing. I don’t know if it was because I had been ill and he was being careful, but it felt like that *click* that had been in place the first time we spent time together was missing.

We spent the bulk of time at his house. There was a little bit of gentle play, with him laying next to me and talking me to an orgasm – he did that twice, and it was wonderful, but it still felt like there was a barrier between us. There had been no smooches at all, because I had an awful cough, and perhaps that is what I keep feeling was missing. We watched a great deal of television together, which included snuggling up with him on the sofa. We ate out a couple of times – just visiting diners, which I love (we don’t have them here), but he told me on the last night that he wished we’d been able to go somewhere nice. I wish that as well, because it would have given me a chance to dress up for him.

After he dropped me back at T’s – for her birthday and Halloween, and TH’s visit, I was able to meet him again in the city. We (A, T, TH and I) went to the Guggenheim to see the Kandinsky exhibit. Things were a little awkward at first, TH was in a strange mood the entire time that he was in NY with T and I, but in the end I decided that I was just going to relax and enjoy the day. It was amazing. I finally was able to see some of the artworks that I’ve worshipped for years, and was able to share them with the person that I’ve worshipped for years. There were fun moments where we would be talking about Kandinsky’s work and then turn on the taped exhibition guide to hear her say the same things that I had just pointed out to A. I enjoyed being able to show him that I was intelligent in a new way.

At the end of the day we went to Build-A-Bear, which has become somewhat of a tradition, if you can call something that has happened two out of two occasions a tradition. And then the four of us went out to dinner.

We said good-bye at Grand Central Station, and it felt as though there should have been some sort of melancholy piano soundtrack in the background. I hugged him tightly and he gave me a quick kiss (T and TH decided not to make themselves scarce at this point, and things were feeling awkward again), and then he was off to catch his train. It was hard not to follow him and to catch the Q back to Brooklyn.

I called him to make sure that he got home alright, and he said that it felt strange not having me in his house.

It feels strange not being there.

IN WHICH SHE STEPS INTO VIEW

Let me start off by saying that I can now be a lot more open and vulnerable with my writing because my entries aren’t being proof-read by J anymore. He didn’t like me sharing intimate details, which I found difficult to do because I don’t really keep these blogs for an audience, I keep them to sort out my thoughts and feelings. I like being able to be totally honest here

So, now that J is more or less out of the picture, there was, of course, the ‘still be friends’ discussion, but I can’t really see that happening… I thought perhaps some back ground might be a little helpful.

Who Am I?

I know all about labels and their inaccuracy, and I don’t get caught up in them, but I find that they do give people a starting point when they are trying to get to know you.

I’m a 35 years old woman who identifies herself as being queer, and has for as long as she knew what the definition of queer was.

I call myself a lesbian, dyke, queer, and various other things but at times I find myself wondering about the accuracy of my self view.

I spent a long time on the Dominant side of the BDSM fence, and now find myself well put on the submissive side, so much so that I find I have a lot of slave like tendencies rather than submissive ones. I am very interested in the Daddydom/babygirl aspect of the lifestyle, I know that comes as a shocking surprise when you consider the title of my blog and my ID.

I am in a long term, but open (within certain boundaries) relationship with a bisexual woman who is two years my younger, sexy, intelligent, humorous and occasionally so frustrating that I could spank the arse off her. And have done. We rent a lovely house in regional NSW and share it with our 2 dogs, 3 cats and 3 ferrets. All we need is one more dog and one more lesbian and we’d have balanced numbers.

I paint, write, draw and am slowly learning to enjoy gardening. Our house has fruit trees in the back yard and I have discovered there is an amazing difference between the taste of freshly picked and sun warm fruit and what you can buy in the supermarket.

I am pierced, inked, shaved and dyed; and as someone at work keenly observed, I am trying to look different.

I work as a nurse, which I enjoy immensely except when you bring hospital and Area Health Service politics into the picture. Occasionally I get fed up with nursing and state that I wish I was a florist, but I don’t really. Really I wish I was a musician. Or an author. Or a stay-at-home mother. Perhaps a pilot. It depends on what day it is.

I am addicted and addictive.

A devout heretic and deliciously destructive.

I am the most truthful liar that you will ever meet.

Now watch as I get to be myself again.

IN WHICH THINGS BECOME A LITTLE BIT SCARY

It is getting close to the time when Daddy will come to visit for the first time.  Well, that is not entirely true.  It will be the first time that he will come to visit as my Daddy.  To quote Debi from Grosse Point Blank, "What is this I'm feeling? Is it pain? Panic? Hunger? Am I hungry? Who's hungry?"  I'm still trying to work out what the answer to all of those would be.  I know that I'm feeling nervous, but I wouldn't say that it is panic.  Pain?  Not yet, but hopefully when Daddy visits there will be.  Hungry?  Very very.

I'm most nervous about being able to please him.  I have mentioned this on a few occasions to him and he is reassuring and tells me that he is certain that he will be pleased.  He tells me that the only thing I have to concentrate on is doing what he tells me.  I need to let myself remember that - all I have to do is what Daddy tells me, and Daddy will take care of everything else.  Daddy will take care of everything.  Daddy will take care of me.

I think that the plan is for him to come to visit before Christmas and on a day that T is working, so that we can spend the day together and then the three of us can send the evening together once T arrives home.  Daddy with his two girls.

Today is the 15th of December.  Tomorrow I am working.  The 20th and 21st are a weekend.  T and I are leaving to visit family on Christmas Eve.  This leaves 5 days for him to visit.  And it is going to possibly happen at some stage in the next 10 days.

Oh my.

And there's the panic.

IN WHICH THE FIRST STEPS ARE TAKEN

An MSN text box lit up on my screen and the conversation started.  We chatted about how my day had been.  I had visited the hospital for some blood tests, having recently been diagnosed with Type II Diabetes.  It is funny how something like that can change a situation that it has nothing to do with.

“Best let me know what the results are” was all that he said, and that was the beginning of everything.  We both understood what that moment signaled.

“Sure.”

“Good girl.”

And with those few words the power balance began to shift.  Finally.