Feelings all day Friday

 Feelings all day Friday

By Friday afternoon, my thoughts always start drifting home long before the final bell rings at school. I can be standing in my classroom straightening papers, answering one last student question, or sitting in a staff meeting pretending to pay attention, but somewhere in the back of my mind I already know what the evening holds. Friday is our day. Friday is when Hubby takes care of me.

Most Fridays are maintenance spankings. Those are the backbone of our marriage and honestly the thing that keeps me emotionally balanced. They are not about anger or punishment as much as connection, accountability, and stress relief. By the end of a work week, I am mentally exhausted. Teaching drains me in every possible way. I spend all week managing students, making decisions, solving problems, and trying to keep everyone else emotionally regulated. By Friday, I feel tightly wound and emotionally cluttered.

Knowing that I will be going home to surrender all of that brings me comfort, but also nervous apprehension.

The nervousness starts building as soon as I leave work. I have nearly an hour drive home, which gives me far too much time to think. Every single Friday, without fail, I get butterflies in my stomach the moment I pull out of the parking lot. I think about whether it will be a mild spanking or a harder one. I think about how vulnerable I will feel standing in front of him. I think about how quickly my confident, professional teacher personality melts away once I walk through our front door.

One of our Friday rules is that I keep the seat warmer on in my car during the drive home. Even in warm weather. Especially in warm weather, honestly. It sounds silly to anyone outside our marriage, but it keeps me grounded mentally. Every time I shift in my seat and feel the heat underneath me, I am reminded of where I am headed and what the evening is about. It keeps my mind focused and reflective instead of letting me completely disconnect from it during the drive.

Sometimes I catch myself gripping the steering wheel tighter as the miles pass.

Maintenance Fridays carry nervousness, but they also carry relief. Deep down, I know those evenings usually end with me feeling lighter, calmer, and deeply connected to my husband. I know the stress I have been carrying all week will finally leave my body. There is comfort in the predictability of it. Comfort in knowing he sees when I am overwhelmed before I even fully admit it to myself.

But not every Friday is only maintenance.

Some weeks I have done something wrong. Maybe I was disrespectful. Maybe I was selfish or dishonest. Maybe I pushed boundaries or acted in ways I knew I should not have. During those weeks, the drive home feels entirely different.

The apprehension becomes heavier.

Instead of just nervous butterflies, I carry dread and guilt. I replay conversations in my head. I think about moments during the week where I knew I was wrong and chose my behavior anyway. I wonder how disappointed he is. I wonder how severe the spanking will be. There are Fridays where my stomach is in knots the entire drive home because I know I earned more than maintenance.

Oddly enough, those are often the Fridays that end up meaning the most to me emotionally.

The guilt sits so heavily on me all week long. I carry it into work, into errands, into every quiet moment. Then Friday comes, and we deal with it honestly. There is no hiding from it, minimizing it, or pretending it did not happen. We talk about it openly. He holds me accountable. I cry sometimes. I feel embarrassed sometimes. I definitely dread it beforehand.

But afterward?

Afterward the guilt is gone.

That is the part people outside this lifestyle probably struggle to understand the most. The spanking itself is difficult, especially on disciplinary Fridays, but afterward I feel emotionally reset. Clean emotionally somehow. The issue has been dealt with instead of buried.

Later that evening we usually get dressed and head to Bible study together. Those evenings always humble me in the deepest way. Sitting there beside my husband on a very sore bottom, emotionally tender and completely reset, I often feel closer to God, closer to my husband, and honestly closer to the woman I want to be.

There is something about entering Bible study after a difficult Friday discipline that strips away my pride completely. I am reminded that marriage is supposed to refine us, not just comfort us. I walk into that room no longer defensive or carrying hidden guilt. The week has been dealt with, and I get to begin again.

By the time Sunday rolls around, I usually already know the cycle will repeat itself again next Friday.

And somehow, knowing that brings me peace.