I love gifts.
I love giving gifts. I love receiving them.
I love the idea of gifts.
When it comes to gifts for me, I enjoy getting something I wanted for a while. Or something I wanted and didn’t know I did.
Or something that has been missing.
What I like about a gift most is that someone took the time to think about what I might enjoy. That person decided that I’m important enough for them, to set time aside to think what I might like, look for it, wrap it maybe.
Or they might’ve seen something and thought “oh, Lilly might like that”.
I was on their mind and it shows that I’m a part if their life.
More than receiving gifts I like giving gifts.
Seeing the expression in their eyes and their smile. Priceless.
Especially when the recipient didn’t expect it.
I could go on and on about giving gifts and how wonderful it is.
But I don’t think it is necessary for my d/s. Gifts are definitely part of our d/s. In a way. Besides the “gift of my submission”, we also exchanged gift which have a d/s connection. Last year he gifted me my collar. I also received my every-day-collar, which is a bracelet.
Now that I think about it, I can’t think of one d/s related gift I gave Sir.
I asked him whether he could think of something. And his answer was “the bracelet”, but I fail to see the d/s connection. And he added “the ultimate d/s gift, your submission”. To which I might have replied “yeah, yeah”.
I don’t need gifts for my for my d/s. If there’s something I really want, I will get it myself. An approach I have with many things. Yet, gifts give me a great joy. The giving part probably more than the receiving part.
The more I think about it, it becomes clear that I don’t have many expectations. In many things in life. And that leads to me not knowing how to respond when I actually receive something. Michael often makes fun of me and my lack of enthusiasm. (I can’t even spell the word.) It’s not that I don’t get excited. I do. But showing it is a different thing.
On the inside I can be very enthusiastic. But showing it is a different story. Many it has something to do with past disappointments or being vulnerable. Maybe it’s both.
A while back Sir asked me how I’d feel, if he’d flew in for dinner to my town. For a split second I was overwhelmed with excitement and joy. But the next moment I pulled myself together and thought it was a hypothetical question and the start of a conversation about someone else. I mean, obviously no one would ever do something like that for me. It’s not practical and logical.
Of course he was talking about actually doing it. And even if it was just an idea which could never happen, it would’ve made me feel so very good. If only I’d allowed myself to feel and believe.
I guess that is something to work on for me. Somehow.
But for the time being I will enjoy the giving part of gifts. So today I send a package. To England. And I really hope, there are two people now looking forward for it to arrive.
And I even packed a little something for myself, when I come visit again. Hopefully soon.
Here’s a little peek: