Life feels like a power struggle to me. I fight every day to be in control, grasping for a firm footing in this world. I do all I can to stay in charge and in control and to keep my emotions in check and play by the rules. I have to be fierce and strong and on top of things all the time so that I don’t screw them up or get screwed over, and it’s exhausting. It’s such a relief to let someone else be in charge and trust that they won’t let me down, that for an hour at least I can let someone else make the decisions and not have to be smart or strong. I’m so tired of trying to be in charge of my life, of making plans and lists and contingencies and still getting sideswiped by circumstance. Curling up in a onesie and sucking a paci and being held by someone who loves me dearly, these are things that belong to someone who doesn’t have to worry about the world or about trying to carve out a foothold in it. Someone like that can just enjoy tactile sensations without having to think about them. That person is safe and loved and will never be otherwise.
Wanting someone else to be in charge applies to all kinds of submission, of course. For me, there’s something special about ageplay. Between a child and their caretaker there’s such a complete helplessness, and ideally, total trust and love. I want to feel smaller than, less than, and know that’s just fine, that’s not a bad thing, it’s just the way it is. I want to be nurtured and loved and cared for, coddled and treated gently, and know that I’m not in charge and that’s okay. I crave a loving kind of submission, a sweet kind of dominance to submit to.
When I’m little, I also feel physically small, like the world is too big. My mind is usually so busy and frantic, overthinking and worrying and constantly spewing thoughts. It shrinks down to the world immediately surrounding me. Physical sensations feel all-encompassing, emotions are intense, my whole universe is Daddy’s arms. I desperately want to be good and safe and comforted. Everything comes in fuzzy waves and it’s all so much. I’m a little helpless and a lot needy. It’s like all the needs and wants I bury in order to be a functional adult come to the surface and get to be addressed. I admit how much I desperately want to be loved.
Little space is like a floating bubble of soft fuzzy light. It’s a lack of having to constantly inhibit myself. I don’t have to control myself because I have someone who will do it for me. I’m so very bad at being content. I’m too ambitious, too antsy, too restless, too dysthymic. I work too hard and I have a hard time relaxing. Little me can relax. Little me is better at being content. Little me is content to be still and know that I am loved. And really, that’s all I need sometimes.
This is the second installment in The Daddy Diaries, a series on Daddy/Mommy kink, ageplay, my kink roles, and what they mean to me.