All my life I have wanted to be a wife. Like my mother, I saw being a devoted and obedient wife to her husband, as the essence of being a woman. My upbringing was one of learning how to please and be pleasing to men, since to me, a womans life without a man at its center is pointless and untatural. I rely upon my husband to give me the dicipline and direction he feels I need, to correct my attitude and keep me focused on him and his needs, doing what I am told with a smile on my face. Should I do something to displease my husband, I expect to be punished. Should my husband feel that I am getting above my place, I expect him to shame and humble me so I remember what I am worth. I feel that belonging to my husband is being his property, much as was the status of wives for most of history. Being his removes all the uncertanty, I know what I am to wear, how I am supposed to behave, what to say and when. There is a calmness of spirit in being subservient and a real feminine joy in the art of being submissive.