An Opportunity to come clean

I’ve said before that I think one of the hardest parts about being a domestic discipline wife are those times when you feel like you have to ask for a spanking. But, second on that list of hardest parts has to be confessing things to your HOH. It doesn’t matter if you’re brand new to domestic discipline or a domestic discipline is never easy.


I’ve been in the (unfortunate) circumstance of having to confess things to Clint many times, and I don’t think it gets any easier every time it happens. I’ve been asked many times before why I do it. If it’s a situation where he will likely never find out about the offense, why do I willingly confess to something that I know will get me in trouble?

Here’s a good example of why:

Some years ago, I went with my sister and some friends to the Mall of America for a girls weekend (quick side note: if you’ve never been to the Mall of America, you must go!).

We spent 4 incredible days shopping (and shopping, and shopping!) and it was a great getaway for a few days. On the last night we were there we saw a late night movie in the theater inside the mall, although the rest of the mall had closed much earlier. It ended after midnight, and the group and I (there were 4 of us) walked down to the lower level parking garage where the bus shuttles were to take the bus back to our hotel (approximately 1.5 miles away). Since it was so late, we weren’t 100% sure if the bus was still running, but decided to chance it and wait anyway. After like 10 minutes of waiting, my phone died, and at that point I really wanted to be back to the hotel. I was pregnant with our second child, at the time, and since it was still the early stages of pregnancy the morning sickness (which is really codeword for all day sickness) was pretty bad, so I just wanted to go to sleep (especially because we had to be at the airport in just a few hours for our early morning flight home). So, I did what any logical person would do (not) and decided to say screw the bus service..and walk back to the hotel. In the middle of the night (it was closer to 1AM at that point), while pregnant, alone, in a city I’d been to like two times before. Oh, and don’t forget, my cell phone was dead. What a brilliant plan, right?

My sister and my friends swore up and down that the bus was coming, but I really wasn’t too convinced.

So, against their wishes (and my better judgment) I left before any of them really had time to come with me. I eventually made it back to the hotel (I didn’t get lost, but there wasn’t really a “direct shot” to the hotel without walking along a main road for a mile, and then cutting through parking lots and woods for the remainder) but it was significantly later than the rest of the group. Turns out the shuttle bus had came just a minute or two after I left.

When I got back to the hotel, I immediately plugged in my phone and had a few messages from Clint just telling me he was going to bed, he missed me, etc. I don’t think he thought anything was up (he probably thought I was still at the movies, to be honest) which was good because the last thing I wanted to do was worry him. It didn’t really hit me until the following day just how dangerous what I did was, or how many rules I broke.

I headed home the following morning and was so excited (seriously SO excited!) to see Clint and my son. That was really the first time I’d ever left my son (who was almost 2) at the time, and I was ridiculously excited to see him (and Clint of course). Because of all the excitement, I just kind of brushed the incident into the back of my mind.

Later that night, as we were going to bed, Clint started asking about my trip. I could tell he had no idea about the little incident the night before. He just wanted to see what all I bought, asked how the movie was, if I had fun, what all we did, all that fun stuff. But, although he probably never would have found out (unless my sister told him, which was pretty unlikely) the guilt was definitely starting to build up.

I felt awful because I know that safety is one of our biggest rules, and that Clint already had hesitations about me being out in a strange city after midnight with him 1,000+ miles away. I tried to reverse the situation and put myself in his shoes, and I know that I would have felt the same way. And, if I knew he was out wandering around by himself that late at night, with his phone being dead, and walking down some random road, I’d be extremely worried (and upset!). It just wasn’t a safe thing to do.

The more I thought about it the more I decided I needed to tell him for a few reasons:

1: Domestic discipline is about trust. Obviously he can’t be there to “monitor” me 24/7 (I think we both would hate that) and so he, like any HOH would, expects me to let him know of things that he might not have seen. If he feels like I’m keeping things from him (or vice versa) then the trust is diminished, and we’ve got a big problem to work through. So, I knew that telling him was important because it helped to ensure that I was open and honest with him (even though it was difficult).

2: I felt so guilty. Seriously, I have like the worst guilt complex ever (which is why it is amazing that he didn’t pick up that something was wrong in this situation because 99.9% of the time he can). I just felt really, really bad about being so impatient, putting myself in danger, etc. It wasn’t worth it, and I knew the only way to make that guilt start to diminish was to come clean and let him know what happened.

3: He deserves to know. My husband and I have an open dialogue with each other at all times, and we don’t keep secrets. Similar to what I was saying in #1, trust is really important and I didn’t want to keep anything from him, good or bad.

4: I didn’t want it to happen again. Similarly to how I’m sure Clint never (ever!) wants it to happen again, neither did I. I knew I needed his help (whether it was through the use of domestic discipline/punishment or even just him talking it through with me) in making sure that I stayed safe in situations like that in the future.

So, with those four things in mind, I sat down with him and told him. I imagined him being pretty upset, and getting pretty strict about the whole situation almost instantly, because I know safety is so important to him. I was surprised that his reaction was almost opposite. You could see the genuine worry and fear on his face, and even though I was home safe and everything was fine (and I reminded myself why telling him in the situation would have been an awful idea because he would have been so worried) you could tell that it really scared him to think I would ever do something so dangerous and stupid. To be honest, I didn’t blame him. It scared me too.

Once he calmed down and repeated for the millionth time how happy he was that I was okay, he went into that “strict mode” that I totally expected to come at some point. The lecture was definitely intense (and so.freaking.long.) but he had brought up a lot of great points that I had overlooked when I was thinking about it (see, that is just another reason why I knew it was the right decision to mention this to him, even though it was hard to do so).

The spanking for it was, without a doubt, severe and I can’t really say I blamed him for it.

I don’t remember much of the details, other than the cane was used at some point (which we always reserve for serious offenses and this fell into that category) and I was really sore the following day. It was definitely a memorable lesson learned.

But, although the spanking was intense and severe, I could tell he was impressed by me coming clean to him and letting him know of the situation so he could resolve it and ensure it doesn’t happen in the future. By me doing that, it helped him to not only trust me more (especially when one of us is out of town) but also to give him (and me!) the peace of mind to know that this is very unlikely to happen again because of how it was dealt with.

Needless to say, it’s been almost two years now and the situation has never happened again, and likely won’t in the future. I learned a lot from it, not only about how dangerous (and stupid) it was, but also how important it is to come clean to your HOH in situations like this. Domestic discipline is a partnership, and requires both parties to be open and honest with one another. Although it may not always is always the right thing to do.


For those of you who have questions about spanking while pregnant, we addressed those in a later post here which also includes a statement or two about this post.

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