There are many ways of being submissive, and the only thing that makes one more right or true than another is that it works for you and the person(s) with whom you share it.
That being said, I often struggle with my own submission. It doesn’t always come easily. I can be contrary and moody, even downright disrespectful at times. But I’ve come to accept that this is not because I am a “bad submissive,” per se. It’s because I’m human. And we all fall short of our goals and expectations sometimes.
There are certain qualities that I strive for. So let me describe the type of submissive I want to be, as a character sketch (I find distancing through the use of 3rd person a practical way to gain perspective):
She walks in the door, weary from work but ready to switch gears. She changes into clothes that are soft and remind her to be soft, as well. She lights a candle, kneels, and speaks her submissive prayer. This is the transition from day to evening.
When He comes home, she is ready to hear about His day, to take Him into the bedroom, remove His boots and clothes, and suck His cock to relax Him. And when he emerges, she is ready with His evening drink in hand.
Anytime He wants to touch her, she is accommodating and grateful for His attention. She knows she is His, and behaves accordingly, offering herself whenever He is of a mind to have her.
She tucks herself beside Him on the couch, her touch a reminder of her affection, ready to address His needs as they arise. And she is grateful to do so when He requests something.
When they go to bed, she undresses for Him, because she knows He likes to watch her. She is His prize, and she enjoys revealing herself to Him for nightly inspections.
Ahe kneels at His feet, awaiting His blessing before she climbs into bed next to Him, where he either fucks her, makes love to her, or simply wraps her in His arms to sleep.
She is His…happy to do whatever His bidding may be.
In real life, I often come home stressed and irritable. I put on pajamas or sweats, when I know He prefers yoga pants or something that gives him easy access to things He likes to touch. I do housework, which makes me grumpier, and then plop myself down on the couch with a book. By the time He comes home, I’m often engrossed in a story, drinking wine, and we have some short conversation about our day while He plays games on His phone to unwind.
I really did used to take His boots off when He came home, but somewhere during this strange fog that is the pandemic, I stopped, and we lost sight of our few rituals.
I think that is a really good place to start, today. So my active submission for this evening will be to request to remove His boots.
I know I can’t always be the version of the “perfect submissive” that exists in my head. But the thing about her is, she’s the model. She has all the feelings and knowledge that I do. She has the same wants and desires and fears. She is more vulnerable, more open, sweeter, more accommodating. But she is still me…at my best.