Recently, for the first time in my life, I thought I had figured out who I was. I was no longer an unhappy wife hiding in a mismatched marriage. I was done questioning the choices I’d made in the past, and wondering why my sexual desires seemed different from everyone else’s. The jagged pieces finally fit together seamlessly, creating a whole person with a unique identity, and I knew without a doubt that there was nothing wrong with me. I embraced my submissive qualities and made peace with my past. I was finally comfortable in my own skin.
Then he came into my life, a fetishist who had me searching for answers about my existence once again. He pushed boundaries and knocked down walls. It seemed nothing was off limits or out of reach, and I found myself doing things with him and for him that I had never imagined. In his opinion though, I was too aggressive in my everyday life to be fully submissive sexually. He whole-heartedly believed I was a switch, and I had no idea what that meant exactly. I laughed and debated with him over the less restrictive label he was suggesting. How could that possibly fit me better than the one I was now comfortably wearing?
Who the fuck did this man think he was, and what gave him the right to call my submissiveness into question? It took me a lifetime of wrestling inner demons to understand my desires. How could he possibly think he knew what was inside of me so quickly? It’s not like I’m an easy person to read. Even when you’re inside of my vagina.
Dammit, he was right. He knew exactly how I would feel the second I stepped in front of the mirror wearing my new leather strap-on. He knew the intoxicating rush I would feel as he begged me to fuck him while addressing me as “Mistress.” Somehow he knew what I was capable of even before I did. He suspected that my dominant personality was hidden under the surface all along, it just needed to be unleashed and he was the perfect one to do it.
I’ve accepted my new label even though I’m not entirely certain what it means. What I’m saying is, I know the definition of a switch, I’m just not sure what it means for me as a person. I wasn’t prepared for the plethora of feelings that shot through my body and brain the first time I topped him. I even made a failed attempt to describe them to him as we lay in bed after, but my words were jumbled, as were my thoughts. I tried to connect the feeling of extreme tunnel vision when I submit to the incredibly intense feeling of being in control of his pleasure. To me, they were the same, but he called bullshit. He couldn’t comprehend what I was trying to say and I couldn’t help him because I really didn’t understand either. I guess the pieces will fall into place in time.
Now here are the questions that permeate my thoughts as I try to figure out what being a switch means for me. Will I be able to domme another man? The truth is, I don’t know. Is this discovery something that is only valid within the parameters of our relationship? I don’t know the answer to that either. Will I top him again and make him beg for release? Hell fucking yes I will.
