This post doesn't make much sense unless you've read the journey from there to here, part 1. Go read it, and then come back and read this one.
For a long time I looked for elements of our life that fit into what I thought I wanted. If there was something specific Vincent told me to do, or not to do, then I labeled it a rule. If there was a consequence for something I did, it became a punishment. If I could turn something that happened naturally, without labels, into something with a specific D/s label then I did. I'm not saying I lied, because I didn't; I am saying that instead of finding peace with how our dynamic worked, I would make what happened naturally fit into the little box I wanted it to be in. We stayed in this place for a while.
Then, we were expecting a daughter. As the due date approached I began to hate submission. For a long time I had served Vincent by trying to keep a tidy house, by cooking his meals, and suddenly I was too tired and physically limited to do those things on a regular basis. I had a condition called Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction, and it was very painful. There were days I couldn't walk without being in excruciating pain. With my ability to serve and please him with my service mostly gone, I felt I could no longer call myself a submissive. Sex was rare and very gentle, (I prefer wild, rough sex), and that left me feeling pretty un-submissive as well.
Around that time I also was made aware of a punishment used by a small group of people and even though I consider myself a very open minded person when it comes to kink, BDSM, and all other forms, I could not be objective regarding this particular discovery. I tried, but everything about it made me cringe, it made me angry, I couldn't help but hate it. So, with this new information, with my physical limitations, and the loss of a submissive mindset, I ran. I squashed any remaining submissive desires, I shut down my blog, and I got rid of any BDSM fiction I had collected over the years.
It should be noted here that Vincent would NEVER have used this particular punishment on me, so I didn't have any reason to run like I did, but I already had one foot out the door and this just gave me that one last shove. I have slowly been able to objectively see that in a safe and consensual relationship this punishment can be used in a way that isn't abusive or mentally detrimental. (No, I'm not going to tell you what this particular punishment is yet. I'll probably write a whole other post about it because I want to explain why it's so hard for me to see it as okay for some people when it's… well more than a hard limit for me.)
It was a slow journey back to where we are now. In the midst of denying my submissiveness I learned what it truly meant to be submissive. I stopped topping from the bottom. I let go of the idea that in order to be a true submissive I needed a collar, I needed rules, and I needed punishment when rules were broken. Vincent is very much in favor of a power exchange dynamic, but he is not that into a list of rules, and does not want to punish me. I discovered that I don't want a bunch of rules either, and I definitely don't want to be punished. I do have a strong desire to please and serve him, and I feel immense (non-sexual) pleasure when I do those things successfully.
So, that's where we are now.
Our dynamic is so integrated into our life. Titles and terms don't exist for us because they don't need to. Whatever we are, whatever we do, it's just a part of us.