Falling Over On A Snowy Evening


198276_indigo-signature-bannerI don’t care what anyone says, it is beautiful here.

The trees are two tone, dark and startling white. At night, the fields stretch up to greet you, there is no dark; nothing is hidden or frightening.

Tonight I caught snowflakes on my tongue. I walked on crunchy snow as I became a pink hatted snow girl. I gazed at the ethereal night sky from my new home (the ground) as I was unable to get up due to an uncontrollable fit of giggles.

!indigo fall
The third time I fell over my walking companion sighed and asked me if I had even seen Bambi. But I did not care. I used to mind falling over. It used to make me embarrassed and angry but not anymore.

I think this is what I have learned.

I used to beat myself up when I did something silly. I would stand over myself with a piece of wood with nails in it and beat myself senseless for saying something that slightly ill advised. I was convinced that when I left a room great clouds of people would gather to sigh and hold a collective silent prayer to see if they could hold off my return.

I wanted to be like the icy cool women. I wanted to be the kind of person that others would admire and adore but be slightly in awe of.

I am not that woman.

I would replay things I had said over and over in my head. I would do this for years. No one beats a brat as hard as a brat does, the hardest, meanest Top is a lightweight by comparison.

And then I met DJ. He tells me off (sometimes in horrid active ways) for being cheeky, self critical and argumentative. He tells me off in a way that makes me want to sink my head into my shoulders and just weep. He spanks me in a way that touches every single part of me, I struggle and try to hide and he won’t let me. I can’t get out of it. I can’t get off one iota off what he intends to give me.

Then he forgives me. He forgives me like I could never forgive myself.

I don’t need to be mean to myself anymore. When I am bad I have a man who will look me in the eye (or at my bared bottom) and tell me just what he thinks of what I have done. When I am good he tells me just what he thinks too.

I don’t need to second guess everything I do anymore. I don’t need to batter myself for not being cool, perfect or fictional. I can giggle when I fall over.

I know now, I will never be cool girl but I can be laughing girl.

I love being loved by such a strong man.!indigo Skier


17 Responses to “Falling Over On A Snowy Evening”

  1. 1 MrJ

    What a beautiful, seasonal love story. 🙂

  2. 3 Fraser

    It is a truly beautiful story, Indigo.

    I’m glad you’ve found someone who loves you properly

  3. When i was young, i thought being formal with people was a sign of maturity. Being cool and in control was how a grownup woman behaved. Today i am most gleefully like a puppy, warmly greeting people and exploring the world with enthusiasm. I’m a lucky girl, because i have someone who makes me feel safe and makes the world feel safe, so i can engage in life without fear. You’re a lucky girl, too. Xo

    • We are both lucky puppies. Now I am pondering what breed of dog our men would be? St Bernards – steady and reviving in an emergency? Great Danes- imposing but with hearts of gold?

      I am stopping now. I can only imagine my next guess would get me in trouble. 🙂

  4. 14 Ripley

    You two sound like you were made for each other. This is a lovely story. Thanks for sharing.

  5. 16 Svetlana

    Laughing girl I’m afraid I’m not. Too often it feels like there’s miles to go before I could allow myself to fall down and giggle. At least it makes me smile to see a happy puppy. That’s something. 🙂

  6. 17 DJ

    This like old times 🙂

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