Sir has always been a Dom
I wrote recently about how, looking back, I can see that I’ve always been submissive. Today I want to talk about how, looking back, I also can see that Sir has always been Dominant.
About meeting Sir for the first time.
I wrote in my journal that Louis L’Amour would describe Sir as the kind of man who would “make tracks in the land.” And that I didn’t know where Sir was going, but I wanted to go with him. (What can I say? I read a lot of Louis L’Amour as a kid.)
I could tell instantly that Sir was different from any other man I had ever met. He didn’t say much and he never interrupted. Instead, he listened and gave his undivided attention to the person talking. When he did speak, he was articulate and intelligent. He was soft spoken, but confident. It was hot.
On the day we met, one of my children said something about the possibility of Sir and I having a serious relationship in the future, Sir not only handled that gracefully but at the same time also strongly implied that he was interested in me, too. *swoon* I was half in love with Sir already, even though we’d only met an hour or two before, and I didn’t want anything to scare him away, especially not my young children saying things that embarrassed their mother!
About dating Sir.
After we met, Sir made it a point to see me or reach out to me every single day. Our first official date was only two days later, in fact. He made his interest in me unmistakably clear from the beginning.
I think back to other men I was involved with before I met Sir and, besides my ex-husband, there is one other who stands out in contrast to Sir. This other man, who I dated for 2.5 years, was unclear about showing his interest in me. He only ever sent mixed signals. Even all these years later, I can’t say for sure how he felt about me back then, whether he loved me or not.
But not Sir. I knew, or strongly suspected, within just a few hours of meeting Sir, that he was very interested in me. There was an intensity between us that’s difficult to describe, but I’ll try. When Sir spoke to me, he turned to completely face me - his squared shoulders were directly oriented to me, his gaze met mine, he let me be shy but continued to pay attention to me and engage me in conversation at the same time.
About family members turning to Sir for assistance.
Sir is, like I said, soft spoken but confident. Many people see past Sir, I think. He doesn’t brag, flaunt, or put himself forward. He doesn’t demand attention and I think because of that he’s underestimated by other people.
Sir doesn’t “dress to the nines,” so to speak. His clothing fits with the environment he’s in. Outside of work, he wears jeans and a T-shirt. At work, he wears sort of a uniform. At church, he dresses business casual like most of the other men. His clothing, while of good quality and appropriately fitted to Sir, doesn’t draw attention by its color, pattern, cut, or style. It’s not drab, it’s just nice-neutral.
When something is really wrong, though, he’s the one people turn to - people at his work, people at our church, people we went to college with, our families, our friends, our kids. My dad, a very proud Southern man, routinely asks Sir for help and advice. Advice! Even strangers will just... talk to him and tell him very personal things.
Sir exudes this vibe of safety and trustworthiness that I think everyone can sense.
About Sir earning my trust.
I had gotten tired of being in unhappy relationships with men who made me sad by being mean to me (ex-husband) or who made me sad by being unclear about how they felt about me (that other guy) and so on. So I started therapy. I had been in therapy for at least a year when I met Sir and then asked him to come to a therapy appointment with me (this was probably within the first 30 days or so after the day we met) so my therapist could meet him and help me explain to him about my trust issues. Folks, he didn’t hesitate. Of course he went with me!
Nothing seemed to scare him away. Not my two jobs, not my full time college course load, not my three kids, nothing! He just... stayed. So I kept him.
