I’m terrible about receiving compliments about my body, most often because I don’t believe them. When someone says I look good or that I’m sexy, I have to stop, take that information and sort of choke it down before I offer up some sort of weak thank you amidst blushing and a downward glance.
Unless I already believe what the person says to be true (like “your hair looks great today”), I bat off the compliment…or it actually serves to remind me of my perception of inadequacy and makes me feel bad about myself.
How’s that for some twisted psychology?
Over the past decade, I’ve gotten better at accepting my body, which is ironic, as I also weigh more now than I ever have in my life. And I’ve worked on accepting compliments, believing them to be true, and seeing the goodness in the other person for offering the kind words.
As far as compliments from my husband are concerned, I had to start seeing those from a submissive view. I had to begin trusting that he sees things in me and about me that I do not always see myself. And when he tells me that I’m sexy or beautiful, he expects me to believe it…to believe him. To not believe him would be disrespectful.
Another part of this is the idea of seeking his approval and working for his compliments.
While I don’t have to work very hard for him to tell me I am beautiful or sexy, I do feel I could do a better job of enticing him (because he deserves that kind of effort from me…as I deserve it from him).
The pandemic has changed how I dress. For months I worked from home, which meant yoga pants and no bra every day. Comfy, yes. And even though he is a fan of yoga pants and easy access to my tits, I didn’t feel sexy. And my not feeling sexy impacted our relationship more deeply than I realized at the time.
Of course there were other stresses, too. But the “messy bun” of the weekend took over my every day, and it became my philosophy on life.
It’s not a whole lot better right now. Even though I leave the house to go to work, I’m alone in my classroom, teaching to a screen. Hoodies and jeans have taken the place of the yoga pants, and I’ve opted for a sports bra most days.
It’s not sexy, my friends.
And since we can’t go out, due to current restrictions, I have no reason to don date attire.
But that isn’t an excuse. I think I still need to find a way to intentionally look sexy (aside from being naked) for him.
So this is on my list of things to do.
As we move into the new year, and I set my plans for life, love, and this blog (which is one of my life’s labors of love), doing things for him, because of him, to him, with him, to please him…that is the name of my game.
Being told that I’m sexy and believing it is one thing (which I really am working on), but truly feeling sexy? That’s on me. And being sexy in the way that he likes? That is also important to a healthy relationship, D/s or not.
So, pandemic be damned. I’m going to do a better job of dressing to impress…even if it’s just sexier jeans and a matching set of undies. (Besides, there’s a lot of research out there that says when we dress better, do our hair and make-up, and present our best selves to the world, it improves our self image, makes us feel happier and more positive, and actually makes us more productive.)
And I’m going to start surprising him with sexy lingerie when I can. It’s been awhile since I did that. Just sexy things underneath that only he will see when I peel away the day as we change into our evening “comfies.” Or, full-on costumes that require a bit more attention to detail and time to enjoy.
I can do that. It’s an easy shift. One I can make…tomorrow…as soon as I wash my entire clothes bin of dirty lingerie. I’ve been putting it off for weeks because I haven’t been wearing all the pretty stuff, just the comfortable, wireless cotton.
But hey, that gives me a solid action to take today. Clean my dirty laundry.
Update: He noticed. Right away. The first day I went back to my matched sets, he watched as I undressed and remarked that it had been awhile since he’d seen me wear them. It made me feel good, to have his eyes on me, appreciating something I’d done for him.