One thing I love about Missy is she's absolutely a world-class cuddler & snuggler. Cuddling is a big, big thing for me. I love to cuddle, and to be cuddled. She's equal opportunity that way. Sometimes she likes it when I go all "Big Spoon" on her, but more often than not, I'm the little spoon to her big spoon.
Part of why I like it is because it's a kind of intimate bondage for me. I love to be held down, snuggling, cuddling, and having no choice but to do so. There are all these implicit messages it sends to me:
- I'm not going anywhere.
- You're not going anywhere.
- Stop thinking and just feel how loved you are.
- I've got you. Nothing bad can happen to you.
- You belong to me.
- There's nowhere to go. Here and now is everything.
I think a very big part of the juice I get from face sitting and smothering comes from these messages. As opposed to just cuddling, being under someone I care about broadcasts even more messages about power, intimacy, authority, submission and connection, but that's another subject, for another post.
I have all these deep connections that inform my love of these emotions-translated-as-physicality connections. My something-complicated/word-that-means-approaching-partner/babysitter Maya does this same kind of cuddling to her cat, and calls it "corporal snuggling." That's a notion I find super appealing. ("I'm gonna love you so hard!")
I know this thing runs in my family, too. I can remember when I was very little watching my mom and dad cuddling on the floor of the den together as we all watched television. She would lay all over him, trying to nestle her little spoon into the arms of his sometimes unwilling big-spoonery. Sometimes he would bristle and complain to her, "Stop it, **REDACTED MOM'S NAME**, you're all over me!" But he still cuddled anyway. I find this sweet. She also has a big love (which I do too) for being under SERIOUSLY HEAVY blankets.
Missy loves this too. She's in absolute heaven during the winter when we'll leave the bedroom window cracked open, enough to make the air in the bedroom positively frigid, and nestle under the blankets together, wrapped in warmth and love and each other, only our faces poking out to enjoy the contrast of the cold air.
Lately Missy and I (well technically, "the other guy", little mako) have been talking a lot about how good and safe and right it feels for her to hold me down when we sleep. I love being wrapped up in her arms, one leg of hers over both of mine, her whole body enfolding me, keeping me close to her.
Just this morning I was like that when, at 4:50am, I tumbled out of the very nice dream I was having, and felt the call to grab my phone. (I know, 4:50am -shush!) (I know, grabbing for my phone - double shush!) Really I wanted to maybe turn off my 5am alarm, or proactively bump it up 15 minutes or something.
Missy, even in her sleep, would have none of it. She used her bent arm to scoop me back up towards her, and once I was under-the-wing, pressed me down, hard. I was trapped under her bent elbow, unable to move, having no choice but to stay sleeping next to her.
What a great thing to be grateful for.