Collar

The collar that I wear is both lovely and evocative. It is not, however, a piece that I wear to school. While I wear the BDSM logo medallion and the heron medallion that hangs on the same chain, everywhere, I remove the collar before I leave for school each day. It also comes off anytime I will be in a setting where wearing it might create "issues" for Master or for us (either in a professional sense or within the extended circle of our families).

Generally, I take care of the management of that. I take it off, and I put it back on. It isn't something that we talk about much. It simply is.

One of the things that began to come up for me over the last few months was the sense that it simply didn't matter. The mechanics of putting it on and taking it off seemed to be something that I attended to and that I noticed and that I cared about. I came to feel that if it didn't matter to Him, it probably was just a silly game I was playing with myself. It really came to seem that He didn't notice whether I wore it or not.

There was sadness and exhaustion and a sort of giving up that I knew I shouldn't have given in to, but I fell short of what I ought to have done. So, in time, I simply stopped wearing it... for about a month, maybe a little more.

Then, about two weeks ago, He asked me about it: "Where is your collar?"

I told Him the simple truth -- where I had it stored, and why I'd stopped putting it on.

He was not cruel, but He was decisive and emphatic. I would wear it at home and He would insist upon it. I'd remember who I was and to whom I belonged. It mattered. Of course, it mattered.

I've worn it exactly as I should since then -- exactly as both of us want. It is, for me, a tiny thing that brings me joy and peace and calm.

swan