Pride

     So, Steve and I were talking last Sunday after church and before I went to work. Our pastor that morning had preached on the subject of pride. Steve has given me a few assignments to think over and journal about over the past few weeks. I've been meaning to blog about those others, and I probably will at some point, but right now, this one is on my mind.
     When he first told me that he wanted me to think over this one, I thought easy!  But I don't even know where to begin. He specifically wanted to know if and how it contributed to our DD relationship. I told him then and I'll repeat it now, I know that it's my biggest hurdle. It pretty much affects everything, beginning to end. I'll attempt to explain, but this is one of those times where I know what I want to say but my mind is all over the place and I'm not sure how it's going to come out.
     To be perfectly honest, my pride usually contributes, at least in some way, to almost every punishment that I receive. Most of my punishments are usually due in part to my mouth. No surprise for those of you who know me. Generally here's how it goes. Steve and I disagree about how to handle some issue that comes up. Granted, the issue is generally small and in the scheme of life in general, not all that important and earth shattering. I really can't even imagine him punishing me for something that was big. And certainly not just for disagreeing with him. I've never been punished for disagreeing. He realizes and respects the fact that I have my own opinions. In fact, I think he rather likes it. And I know he likes my spunk. But anyway, I digress.
     So, there's some issue. We have totally different perspectives and ideas about it in general as well as about how to move forward from the issue. Unfortunately, I'm one of those people that clings to the thought that my idea is correct. I hold on to my ideas like a dog holds on to a bone. Now granted, I'm not always like that, but for some reasons certain things just strike a nerve with me. And I'm a woman. My thought process is generally emotionally driven. I'm not saying I'm irrational. I'm not saying that women as whole are irrational. I'm simply saying that our thinking does tend to be more emotionally driven than logic driven. At the very least, it is tinted with emotion.
     There's little doubt in my mind that a huge part of why I hang on to these bones, umm ideas, is because of pride. I think of myself as a pretty good decision maker. I've also lived on my own for quite some time and survived nicely. Which in all probability adds to the pride issue because I have had some success. I'm just not used to having to include other people in my decision making process. It's new to me. And it's definitely going to be something that Steve and I will have to work on diligently when we are married and living together.
    Pride makes punishment of any sort difficult because I'm, in essence, being told that something I did was in some way wrong. That's hard for me to stomach. After all, I think of myself as a rational, good decision maker. Why would I have made a decision that was wrong? Wrong enough, in fact, to earn a punishment? Like I said before, it generally isn't the decision that gets me punished. Well, not the decision about how I want to handle the issue. The decisions of what to say and how to say it are often different stories, however. So sometimes, it just takes me a bit to be able to admit that I even need a punishment.
     My first instinct when I find out I've earned one is to get mad. It's hard for me not to say anything at this point, but I usually don't. I (thankfully) realize that it's mainly me being defensive and the dread of the impending punishment talking. I know that it's been hard for Steve at times to make the decision to punish. I know that DD in general has been hard for both of us. And I think we both try really hard not to undermine the other's progress in anyway. I don't want to fight him too hard about a punishment because there was a day when after hours or days of misery, I would have to tell him that I needed one. We're not quite where we want to be, but thank God we're not where we were either. I for one, don't want to go back there. No desire. At all. 
     I think the biggest area in our DD relationship where I notice pride, or maybe some of it being taken away, is during the punishment. Especially if that punishment is a spanking. The last spanking I received, Steve actually bared my bottom. That was the first time. I've noticed a pulling away of some pride before, but that last time, along with my panties, it was completely gone. There is absolutely no pride left when you're bottom is in the air and your head is buried in the pillow you're clinging to for dear life.
     After it's all over it takes me a few minutes to even be able to look at Steve, much less talk or look him in the eyes. I just want to bury my head in his shoulder and cry, which he is gracious enough to let me do. I need that time. I need his reassurances and I love you's so much then. I feel so vulnerable, in so many ways. We experimented with corner time after a spanking a time or two, but that simply did not work. It left me feeling far too isolated and it took me so much longer to recover.  Just not a good thing at all.
     So, yeah I've said all this and basically am at the same point as I was at the beginning of this little essay. Pride absolutely affects our DD relationship. From  before the spanking, until after. I'm not going to say that humiliation is the most important part of the punishment process, but it definitely plays a part. And for me, sometimes that's so much harder than the actual physical part of the punishment. And afterwards, in all honesty, it kinda makes me feel all warm and tingly that he can see me at my most vulnerable and humble and love me yet the same.