Where Unimportance Takes Us

 Posted by on January 19, 2011
Jan 192011

By Rayne

People occasionally talk about ignoring someone (or being ignored) as punishment in a consensual owner/property relationship. For those who believe in ”Let the punishment fit the crime.” it’s often used in response to the submissive being disrespectful in speech. And M has never really used it.

Oh, he’s been known to sit me in the middle of the bed, with nothing to do, and go about his business until I calm down. But I’ve never really considered that ”being ignored” since he’s never close enough to actually ignore me. And since I’m not allowed to say anything but ”Master, I’m sorry.”, there’s nothing for him to ignore.

But he does ignore me. Quite frequently, in fact. I have to repeat myself pretty often before some things actually sink in. And I’m not just talking days later, when the conversation comes back up, he’s forgotten, temporarily, what I said to him. I mean he ”forgets” whole conversations literally seconds after having them, even though he actually responded, and helped make a decision.

When we’re in public, if I don’t forget that I get weird looks for asking to buy something as silly as an $0.88 box of candy canes that’s on sale for half off, I try to sort of announce what I want to do, rather than asking, giving him the opportunity to say no without either of us having to deal with ten female heads (and one or two green male faces) swiveling to glare at him in indignation. Because, though they’re oblivious to the fact that they just ran their cart over your toe, or that they’re blocking the entire aisle, they certainly hear, without much trouble at all, a woman asking her husband if he minds if she buys something she wants.

And it’s not that he forgets. He doesn’t forget. He just literally wasn’t paying attention. His mind was on his job, or the grocery list, or Angry Birds (no, I’m not joking), and, like the vanilla husband engrossed in the Super Bowl, he gave me the answers he thought I wanted to hear, not really paying attention to what he was agreeing to.


Unlike the vanilla husband, who will, undoubtedly, be held to the promises he made, M knows that later, when I press him on whatever it was he agreed to, he can say, ”Oh, I obviously wasn’t listening. I don’t think that’s a good idea. Maybe another time.” and that’ll (mostly) be the end of it. I’ll probably spout off with a few choice words, and I’ll most likely spend the next hour, or so, stomping around the house and responding in one word answers. But when push comes to shove, I’ll shrug it off like the good little slave girl, and ask again another day, when he’s less busy, and more attentive.

Sometimes, this really pisses me off. I mean, geezum crow, I realize that I asked to be (somewhat) unimportant, and that my dream is to eventually be (mostly) irrelevant to much more than your pleasure, but is it too much to ask for you to just pay attention to me when I’m talking to you?


This is where a better person than me would say, ”You know, Rayne. You’re getting what you asked for. He makes you important when he thinks you should be.”

To which I would respond, ”But he always makes me unimportant when I think I shouldn’t be. And it’s not like he actually pays attention to when he’s ignoring me, so it’s like he’s doing it unintentionally. Subconsciously, even! Not just because I asked for it. Almost like it’s just who we are.”

Oddly enough, even when he ignores me, though I get frustrated, I don’t always feel unimportant. I’m mature enough to realize that sometimes other things come first. That’s life. And the fact of the matter is, when I really think about it, I realize it’s done me quite a bit of good.

I’ve got a lot more patience, for one thing. Instead of just flying off the handle when he notices me doing something he doesn’t remember giving permission for, I can calmly explain to him that just the other day, we were talking, and he said he thought it was a good idea.

I’m not as self-centered as I used to be. I’m learning to fill silences with questions about the person I’m spending time with, rather than rambling on about myself. Or… I’m trying to, anyway.

I’m learning to pick my battles, and be more careful about when I wage them. I mean, if he’s typing like mad, chances are, he’s working.

Any growth is progress, right?

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