Posted by: littlegirlyone | November 1, 2007


some of you may have noticed it’s been a bit quiet on the little girl front. i admit, i’ve found myself faced with the combination of busyness, stress, and submissive withdrawal. i can’t really finger a culprit, but those are the reasons i’ve largely neglected my journal.

the stress is the direct result of the busyness. all in a few weeks, i’ve had midterm exams, papers due, drafts of larger papers due, and lots of interesting, but overwhelming, work assignments. the busyness is the direct result of my life as i’ve chosen it. those two are easy for me to understand. it’s the submissive withdrawal, as i’ve decided to identify it, that gives me pause.

i’ve written about this before, and i’ve largely chalked my backlashes up to fear. self-discovery can be a rather intimidating journey, and submission (or dominance) is, in my view, a journey of self-discovery. although it tends to focus primarily on what some identify as the baser self, the dark desires, and the sexual response, i think it is a journey worth taking (despite the risk that the journey may be fraught with peril as any other journey of a similar nature would be).

there have been moments in my adult life where i’ve managed to “forget” that the submissive side of me exists. in one case, the amnesia lasted well into a year before suddenly, urgently, the devious submissive reared her pretty head again. so, for me, this is somewhat normal, although i never had a journal before, and i never had such a strong identification with my submission as writing here, for you, has given me.

yet, again i find myself adrift. so i hope you’ll forgive my rather sappy metaphor, and chalk it up to good emotional processing. or don’t read any further. the choice is yours.

if you continue, i’d like you to picture, if you will, a little girl in a pink dress, with and puffed sleeves, and a large petticoat of crinolines. her hair is plaited into two shiny braids, tied off with ribbons on the ends. picture her as she stands at the brink of a huge, dark forest. the trail on which she now stands winds suddenly down into the deep purple blackness, so that all she can see is the faint outline of the beaten path before it plunges into the dark ahead. she wants to go in, but she’s rather intimidated.

some days, her curiosity urges her to take a few steps into the pale of the trees, and she hears the music of the mysterious forest around her. when the music becomes too spooky, she obstinately turns back the way she came, planting her patent leather maryjanes firmly in the sunlight.

out here, out in the fresh, clean air of the world she knows, she has a family that loves her. she has people who look out for her, who pick her up when she skins her knee and cries, as little girls are wont to do.

going into the forest, and going in alone, means exactly that: she will be alone.

despite her fear of it, she is drawn, day after day, to the forest’s edge. some days, as she stands at the place on the path where the light and shade meet, she watches a friend walk past her, and down the path. her friends encourage her to step inside the cool air and the darkness, to breathe the wet, clingy scent of the trees. on days when she’s feeling particularly brave, she will walk in with them, deeper into the forest than she’s been before. inside, she is free, floating in a mist of her mind, unencumbered by the realities of life and family. but, at some point, she will hear her family calling her home, and her obligations and devotion to those that have loved and cared for her will bring her out of the woods.

other girls she’s seen have not gone into the forest alone. on days when she dares to step alone into the dark, she envies them their escorts. she’s seen these brave men and women take her friends by the hand, shush all of their protests, and walk them into the woods. but there will not be any hand-holding for her, although she might find companionship, the only person who will take her into the forest is herself.

is it any wonder, then, after a particular journey into a part of the woods she’d heard of, but never seen, that she wouldn’t rush back to voyage into the darkness? is it any surprise that she would stand, wordless, at the forest’s edge, for days and days, holding a mysterious knot of pride, humiliation and sadness?

she fears that if she keeps going in there, she’ll not be able to find her way out again. and then, she’ll have lost all the love and family she’s known, and live, abandoned, in the dark, cold woods.


  1. what a beautiful and vivid metaphor. this is what i think. i think that the little girl needs to stay at the edge of the forest for a bit. she needs to get her bearings for a while. she needs to watch the other people who go in when she feels like it, and enjoy the sunny world around her at other times. and then, one day, i think the little girl will take her very bestest friend in the whole world, and she will show him the forest. she will have to show him how to help her– she will have to instruct him on how forest-walking works, how to hold her hand in just the right way, the best way for him to lead her. not that he won’t have his own ideas on how to do it too… but the little girl will want to show him the way that she likes best. i think it will be a very interesting journey for the little girl and her best friend. and i think that they will, in time, figure out the best ways to enjoy the forest together. it will always be the little girl’s forest, but it will be an even better forest when she knows that she’ll never be left out there by herself and she will have her favorite person in the world to share it with.

  2. I think the little girl is braver than she knows, and I also think that her yearning for the dark depths of the forest is so strong that she will venture in one day. And find that its terrors are far outweighed by the delights to be found there.

  3. lg,”despite her fear of it, she is drawn, day after day, to the forest’s edge.”The forests draw is strong, relentless. A well drawn word picture.-TFP,

  4. persephone,your comment brought tears to my eyes. perhaps because i was in a particularly sappy mood after posting this, perhaps because what you envision was so beautiful, and yet seems so impossible to have. thank you.roper,some days i agree with you completely. the funny thing is, almost moments after posting this, i felt like i was ready, finally, to go back in. sometimes fear just needs acknowledging, i think.TFP,thank you, and welcome. where have you come from, i wonder?

  5. I understand. A beautiful post.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: