Thursday, June 27, 2013
Every Sunday afternoon we have a family meeting to discuss behaviour, roles and responsibilities in the family and things like pocket money allowances for the children and for George. There is very little embarrassment for George when his allowance is discussed at the same time as the children’s. This is because the children were much younger when these meetings started, so the discussion of how much pocket money their father is to be allowed for the following week is now seen as completely normal.
We all sit down in the living room while I speak. For the last couple of weeks I have required George to sit on the floor by my feet (see my previous post). My husband has the freedom to speak at these meetings, but only to back up my words with his own reassurances. The children listen and ask questions if they wish further clarification, but generally they accept that what is being asked of them is reasonable. We also review the previous week since our last meeting.
I try to give the girls more responsibility or supervisory roles, and I give my son tasks to improve his behaviour or demeanour. The purpose of these gender-specific assignments is to develop self-confidence in my daughters and for my son to develop a respect for women and female authority. In today’s changing workplace, it is more and more likely that Ben will at some point be working for a female manager. The more prepared he is now, the more comfortable he will be when that situation arises. Many girls grow up not believing in their own abilities and, in consequence, fail to reach their full potential in life. Conversely, boys are naturally more confident, but too often this manifests itself through aggression and conflict.
I have found that the more responsibilities I give to 12-year-old Louise, the more responsibilities she asks for! This is not always the case with Rachel, age 9, whose character is naturally more reserved. It is my hope that Rachel will learn from Louise and come to see the benefits of responsibility as, in return for this, Louise is given more freedoms.
Occasionally silly things will disrupt the Sunday afternoon meeting. A couple of months ago, for instance, Louise and Rachel had a quarrel over a borrowed blouse and hairbrush. These are not issues to be brought up at these meetings! After this squabble, I spoke to both of them quietly and in private and told them that by arguing with one another, they were not setting a good example for their father and brother. I explained to them that if they wanted to take on more responsibilities, especially supervisory roles, they must learn not to argue between themselves. Since that discussion, things are definitely improving between the two girls. Teaching children can sometimes be a very slow process—but what a rewarding one when important lessons are learned!
One of the topics at a recent family meeting was Ben’s tardiness in the mornings. It was causing problems for the rest of the family, delaying his siblings who had to wait for him before setting off to school. Nine-year-old Ben is not as organised as his sisters and could never seem to find the right shoes, socks, shirt or tie, etc., for his school uniform in the morning. This frustrated him, and the rest of family had to put up with his frequent tantrums.
Therefore I decided to put the girls in charge of making sure that Ben would always have the correct clothes for his uniform. I suggested this to the family group, and Rachel’s first comment was “but that’s just more work for us!” I explained that she would not be sorting out Ben’s clothes herself, but supervising him. I went on to say that, in return, Ben could do something to help his sisters. We discussed this for no more than a minute before Louise came up with the answer. She said, “If we supervise Ben to get his clothes ready, could he collect our dirty clothes and take them to the laundry room for us?” This was agreed to by all of us, including Ben, who received a reassuring smile and nod from his father.
After the meeting, the girls and Ben went up to his bedroom. Louise and Rachel spent more than two hours showing Ben how to sort his clothes into different drawers, how to use hangers properly in the wardrobe and where to put his shoes, and so on.
The girls then came up with their own action plan, which is still in use now several weeks after the initial meeting. Louise and Rachel take turns going into Ben’s room the night before a school day and supervising him, while he gathers each item of clothing that he will need the next day. He is instructed to lay them out on his bed to ensure nothing is missed. Once all of the clothes are there, he is told to lay them carefully over the back of his chair before he goes to bed.
In return for the girls’ supervision, Ben now collects their soiled clothes on Wednesdays and Saturdays (these are the designated days on which my husband does the household laundry). Ben will knock on his sisters’ bedroom doors and ask to collect their clothes and take them to the laundry room along with his own.
The outcome of all this is that Ben’s tardiness has now stopped completely. We used to be delayed by him nearly every day before this system was introduced. Now everyone sets off on time in the mornings, and, believe me, this creates a much more harmonious household.
In this way all of my children learn the benefits of female authority. My son learns that taking instructions from girls and doing tasks for them are completely normal things for a boy to do, while my daughters learn that the supervision of boys has benefits (laundry collection in this case) as well as being fun, especially for bossy Louise! Typically, although they were going to take it in turns, it is Louise who is doing far more of Ben’s uniform inspections than Rachel. It is quite obvious to everyone that she enjoys this supervisory role over her brother.
One thing that I would like to mention here is a rule that I implemented quite some time ago. It relates to my experience with my brothers when I was a teenager (see my earlier post). I have relaxed the rule a little for my own family, as I used to give my brothers no warning at all before entering their rooms.
The rule is that my daughters are allowed to enter Ben’s bedroom after a quick knock on the door and announcing themselves as they enter. However, if my son wishes to visit either of his sister’s room, he must always knock and then wait for permission to enter. He is never to enter without permission or supervision.
Implementing this rule had always been in the back of my mind because of my teenage experiences. However, events overtook me a couple of years ago, making me put the rule into place much earlier than I had expected.
At the age of 7, Ben was going through a silly stage. He wanted to play hide and seek with the rest of the family, and always, it seemed, at the most inappropriate times. Even though he was told that no one else was playing, or wanted to, he would hide all over the house, including the girls’ and our bedrooms. He hid in wardrobes, under beds, inside closets, that sort of thing. If he was hiding in his own room, he would not answer a knock on the door. Likewise, if he was called for lunch or dinner or to go out, he would not answer. The whole family had to waste time searching for him. Then, when we were all on the verge of screaming, he would jump out and scare a family member, to his own vast amusement, and end up having a fit of giggles on the floor.
Thankfully, after a few exasperating months, Ben grew out of this phase, but the rule instituted then still stands today. Girls are far more sensible and deserve the extra trust we give them.
In the next post I will continue to write about different aspects of my family life, including Louise’s limited supervision of her father in certain tasks.
End of Part 2
Thursday, June 13, 2013
In my previous post I discussed some of my past experiences with my brothers, experiences which gave me confidence in controlling males from an early age. There are quite a few stories to tell about that time in my life, as I went on to discover that I could also twist my boyfriends around my little finger. I remember feeling great pride and satisfaction as they became more docile and respectful to me. This gradually led me to embrace my strongly held beliefs in female authority. By the time I met my future husband at university, the die had been cast, and I was determined that I would start our relationship off on the right track—my track!
I may discuss the training of my husband George in a future post. This is because I do not want to confuse readers into thinking that what I do with him in private in any way relates to how I bring up my children. It doesn’t. For instance, I have never and I will never use corporal punishment on my children, but I do discipline my husband.
In this post I would like to talk about female authority in our family.
I believe the key to a successful marriage and a happy family life is to establish female control from the outset. If the children ask their father for anything, he will always refer them to me. “Asking Dad" happens much less often now, as the children have picked up on the fact that Mum rules the house! My eldest daughter Louise will be 12 this month, and she completely understands that her father has no decision-making rights and has stopped asking him for anything. The twins, Rachel and Ben, are still only 9 and have not fully understood this yet. With our continued guidance they will gradually learn that it is their Mum who gives or refuses permission to do anything. Louise is a big help in this regard. She is naturally bossy and has recently told Rachel not to bother asking Dad for anything as he doesn’t have Mum’s permission to make decisions!
Financial control is a good place to start in a loving female-led relationship, and I did this with my husband before we were even married. The sooner this is done, the better, in my opinion. We have a joint account into which our salaries are paid. George has no access to this account though, as I keep the cards and passwords. I provide him with a weekly allowance, the amount of which is determined each week at the Sunday family meetings (more of about this in the next post).
It is important that a man knows his spending can be scrutinized by his wife at any time. By having his allowance limited, George is unlikely to make frivolous purchases. If he wants to do so for some reason, he must ask me first. I decide whether or not his request is reasonable. In this way George’s thoughts are continually focused on me, every time he opens his wallet.
Next is control of the household chores. Quite simply, George does them all! Vacuuming, dusting, cooking, washing and ironing, everything! He only works part time, as my salary is sufficient to keep us in our current lifestyle. Therefore he has plenty of time to do these chores.
Children do pick up on their parents’ behavior. If the parents smoke, it is more likely the children will smoke when they grow up. If they see their parents arguing and fighting, it is more likely that they will do the same and not become valuable members of society.
My children see their father as a happy man who lives in deference to his wife. They see a couple who love one another, and a man who worships his wife and would do anything for her. What better example of family life could we give our children?
Every evening when I arrive home from work, the girls are usually sitting in the living room watching TV while George is cooking. Most often Ben will be with him in the kitchen, perhaps helping to lay the table while they chat together. Ben absolutely adores his Dad!
After we have all greeted and kissed, I make my way to one of the sofas, sit down and start chatting to the children about their school day (Ben has usually joined the girls in the living room by this time). When I sit down, George knows this is his cue to bring me a glass of wine. He then sits next to me on the sofa and what follows is a ritual that we have been doing for many years.
I will turn and put my feet up on George’s lap. He carefully removes my shoes and then gently massages my feet until I tell him to stop. During this whole time we are all still chatting normally as a family. This is seen as perfectly natural by our children. Their father is worshipping their mother by performing this simple, caring task for her.
However I have just implemented a variation on this ritual following some email correspondence with another dominant lady who lives in the Netherlands. She also runs a female led household. After returning from my recent business trip, I told George that in future I would require him to sit on the floor, rather than the sofa, when massaging my feet. I could tell by his expression that he was a little surprised at the request, but I simply raised my eyebrows and he did not complain.
The following day when I arrived home from the office, he followed me as usual into the living room and handed me a glass of wine, but then he paused and looked inquiringly at me. I saw his eyes briefly flit between my feet, resting on the floor, and the vacant seat next to me on the sofa. I looked at him sternly and dipped my finger, pointing to the floor. Only he and I saw the gesture, but he understood immediately and sat down at my feet. Amusingly to me, he rested his back against the sofa (for reassurance perhaps?). But, finding this position awkward, he soon turned around so that he could access my feet in a more comfortable manner.
The children were oblivious to all this and simply carried on chatting with us. Apparently seeing their Dad sitting on the floor massaging his wife’s feet was no big issue to them! It was just Dad serving Mum as usual. After about 10 minutes I ruffled George’s hair as I might a child (another tidbit I borrowed from the Dutch lady, although in her instance, it was her daughter ruffling the father’s hair) and said “Okay, that’s enough, let’s go and eat.” Before he got up, George asked me which shoes I would be wearing the following day, so that he could polish them and have them ready for me.
It is my intention going forward to show more openly George's increasing deference to me in all things. The children will pick up on these nuances and gradually learn that female authority is normal and good.
Having recently read a lot of email correspondence from other dominant women, I can’t help feeling that I have been going a little too easy on George. That will be changing from now on. I have big plans for George and one of them is for him to be spending a lot more time on the floor at my feet!
End of part 1
Monday, June 3, 2013
(A note from Mark Remond: One of the rewards of doing this blog over the years has been the virtual support group I’ve joined, through comments and emails, of like-minded folks in the Female Led world. One of my favorite “e-migos” is the author of today’s guest blog.
“Sam,” who lives somewhere in the UK, is a sweet soul who was introduced to female authority at a tender age by his sisters; and has, ever since, been hopelessly and blissfully addicted to a life of service to the sex he considers greatly superior. But I’ll let him tell you about his life in a female-ruled world.)
I consider myself a very lucky guy. I have the pleasure and privilege of living with my girlfriend, her sister and their mother. All three women are beautiful, confident, clever, funny, strong, bossy and very, very pro-female. As a “lowly” male (their term), I fit in as house cleaner, cook, handyman, gardener, chauffeur…well, basically anything they decide at any time.
Let’s just say I’m on call—at the tinkle of a bell or a snap of the fingers—24/7.
In just a few weeks all four of us will be jetting off to the beautiful island of Crete. I am looking forward to the sun, the beaches and the Greek cuisine. But, perhaps most of all, I am looking forward to a new sun-drenched setting in which I can serve and obey every wish and whim of my girlfriend and her matriarchal family.
Last year the family vacation was to Turkey, where my subservience to Sarah, my girlfriend, her sister Jennifer and their mother Linda, constituted a full-time and wonderfully fulfilling job.
The public display of male obedience to this trio of superior females began last year right at the airport. While the “girls” (their word) strolled, unencumbered, into the terminal, I gladly struggled, with all four suitcases, to keep up.
Approving glances from women passing by, especially the female airlines staff, and especially the comment, “He’s so well trained,” all pleased me. I was equally pleased by those men I observed pointedly looking away, pretending not to notice and, I believe, hoping their wives and girlfriends wouldn’t see the male being put to good use as a beast of burden by the females.
Linda and her dominant daughters enjoy putting my subservience on display in this way, though on this day they sailed ahead without a backward glance.
The Turkish holiday was fantastic. I took special pride in making the girls’ family getaway even more relaxing than depicted in travel brochures. I fetched and ferried an endless relay of tall, chilled drinks, occasional snacks, and frequently shifted beach parasols to provide the exact amount of shade specified by Sarah and Jen as they relaxed in the sun.
Linda, the grand matriarch, is far less interested in tanning herself. She relaxed in the shade next to the swimming pool. So I went to and fro from beach to poolside, keeping a watchful eye on all three, ready to serve and offer drinks. Linda became friendly with some nearby Russian ladies about her own age. These ladies seemed both impressed and amused by my industrious obedience to Linda and her grown-up daughters.
Although a good deal was no doubt lost in communication (across the language barrier), it was obvious that the Russian ladies approved wholeheartedly of the natural benefits of a male serving and obeying females. Especially when, as a good will gesture on Linda’s part, my services were made available to them. So, for the last few days of the vacation, I found myself shifting sunbeds, parasols, laying out towels and fetching drinks for three Russian ladies as well!
When the sun went down, the ladies’ fun continued. Most evenings Sarah, Jen and Linda liked to venture out male-free, leaving me to ensure that our apartment was spotless and their holiday outfits were ready for the following day. That meant hand-washing towels and clothes; ensuring their shoes and sandals were perfectly clean and the floors sand-free;* and dresses were hanging tidily—all jobs suitable for me, to ensure that the three women who rule my existence would have their ideal and most relaxing holiday.
It suits these lovely women so perfectly, to be relaxing and laughing in the lap of luxury, and never do I feel more fulfilled than when I get to see them doing so and have the privilege of serving them.
*On a future post I may get up the courage to tell you what happened on another family holiday when I failed to keep the floors of the ladies’ beach resort condo sand-free!
Saturday, June 1, 2013
(Note from Mark Remond: I mentioned Amanda in a previous post, Ask Your Mother, as an articulate advocate of Female Led Families. Before sharing some glimpses into her own matriarchal household, Amanda offers the following self-introduction in her own words.)
I think it’s important to know a little bit about my upbringing as it played a large part in shaping my future as an alpha female. I will start with my teenage years and in a later post discuss how I met my husband.
My parents both worked, and our family was reasonably well off. I was the middle child of three with two brothers. One was a year older and the other two years younger than me. My brothers were typical teenage boys, idle, inattentive and nearly always in their bedrooms.
My life took a memorable turn one Saturday morning when I was 16. My parents went out shopping and I left for a girlfriend’s house, but returned earlier than expected to pick up a CD she wanted to borrow. Entering the house I heard laughing from my elder brother’s bedroom. I knocked on his door and walked in—and was shocked by what I saw. Both boys were sitting on the bed watching a porn video. It was disgusting stuff—well, for a 16-year-old girl!—involving two men and a woman. Leave it at that.
I was so angry (particularly with my elder brother for exposing a 14-year-old boy to this stuff) that I walked right to the video recorder and ejected the tape. I then informed my brothers that I would be showing Mum what they’d been watching. They knew—we all knew—that she would be livid. They pleaded with me not to tell her, but I was adamant and walked out of the room with the tape.
My older brother ran after me and said he would do anything as long as I didn’t tell Mum. He was really scared. This got me thinking. Anything? We all had chores to do in our house—cleaning bedrooms, doing our own washing and ironing, etc. I told my brother that if he and my younger brother cleaned my bedroom and cleared away the breakfast dishes (my job that particular day), then I would think about not telling Mum. He agreed, and I went back to my friend’s house with the incriminating video (in case my brothers tried to take it back) and my CD.
On my return I found they had done a pretty good job, but I told them that I would not be returning the tape. The matter would probably have ended there except for another incident a couple of weeks later. I went into my little brother’s bedroom (while he was out) to retrieve a CD I’d loaned him earlier (I had a big music collection!). When I couldn’t find it, I started to rummage through some of his things. That’s when I found several pornographic magazines hidden behind some books on a shelf.
I confronted my brother with the magazines on his return. I told him this time I would definitely tell Mum. He started crying and pleading. He told me he had only borrowed the magazines from his brother!
To cut to the chase, I did not tell my mother. Instead, the following Saturday while our parents were out of the house, I made my brothers burn all the magazines (in the back garden) but two, which I kept as evidence should I ever need it. When only ashes remained, I told them to come into the living room where I informed them that things were going to be changing for them. I told them that they were both immature and could not be trusted. Therefore, from that moment onward, they would be doing exactly as I told them.
There were some feeble protests, but I cut those short with the simple threat of telling Mum about their nasty habits!
As promised, from that time forward I had my brothers doing all my chores as well as their own, and some additional ones for Mum and Dad. In fact, it wasn't long before my mother was commenting that she’d noticed a change in the boys’ attitude and was very pleased.
I, too, felt pleased—with myself, and I enjoyed my new authority. Something that I particularly enjoyed thereafter was conducting random inspections of the boys’ rooms. I would walk in without knocking (which I had always done in the past) and start looking under the mattress, pulling out books and turning out drawers. I never found anything pornographic again, but I enjoyed the fact that they didn’t dare complain, but meekly accepted these regular intrusions. I would then leave, after instructing them to make sure everything was put back tidily and in order.
I’ll pause here, but, if anyone is interested, in future posts I’ll write a bit about how this power (and moral authority) over my brothers affected my subsequent relationships with boyfriends and eventually with my husband and my own family.