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Loving Him, Owning Him, Needing Him

I don’t say it often enough, at least not out loud: I need him. Not just as my submissive—though that part of us is sacred, raw, and utterly irreplaceable. I need him as my husband. As the steady heart that beats next to mine, even when life feels chaotic, even when I’m unsure of myself.

People sometimes think our dynamic is all about me. About my control, my voice, my rules. But what they don’t see is how much of me is shaped and strengthened by his devotion. His surrender isn’t weakness. It’s the fiercest kind of love I’ve ever known. Because in giving me that trust, he gives me space to grow—not just as his Domina, but as a woman.

He makes me secure. He gives me ground to stand on when I feel like I’m floating away. He listens in the quiet moments, laughs with me in the ridiculous ones, and lets me lean into him when I’ve been carrying the weight of the world for too long. And when he kneels for me, when he bows his head and says, “I’m yours,” I feel something unlock in me—something I can’t find anywhere else. Power, yes. Desire, yes. But also clarity. Peace. Because he is mine, I can be fully myself.

I love him as my husband. I love him as my submissive. But most of all, I love him as the man who never lets me forget who I am. Who I am becoming. Who I am meant to be. And every day, in every way, I am thankful for him.