For most of my life I questioned my wants and needs, and I even thought of myself as weak for not having the strength to simply say, “no.” But with the help of Heather and her M, I now understand that strength is what allowed me to surrender to my desires. I didn’t say “no” because I chose not to.
This way of thinking can be difficult for some people to comprehend, and because of this I have two sets of friends. They are polar opposites when it comes to their idea of what it means to be kinky. I have the two friends who think that using a vibrator or having sex in the hot tub with their husbands after the kids are asleep makes them kinky. And then I have my friends who know who and what I am. Friends who I can give blow job lessons to using a beer bottle, friends who will ask for my opinion on cuffs and anal sex while raving about my homemade brownies.
Not having any idea that I’m kinky, one of my vanilla friends decided to broach the subject of submission on the phone as she drove her son to school. Her tone was judgmental when she spoke about her limited knowledge of a D/s relationship, and her presumptions were harsh.
What the fuck was I thinking? I was getting ready to debate kink and esteem issues with a woman who doesn’t think racism is still an issue in America and would vote for Gumby as long as he was Republican. The conversation was doomed from the start.
Careful not to reveal myself to her, I dove headfirst into an attempt in helping her see that it takes an incredible amount of strength for a sub to give control to her/his Dom/Domme. I wanted to tell her about the overwhelming power I feel when I submit, but she would never understand. Hoping she would see things a little more clearly, I pointed out that in a healthy D/s relationship, power is something that shouldn’t be taken unless it’s given. I wanted to tell her what an incredible feeling that power exchange is, but she would question how I knew. I wanted to tell her the amount of strength it takes to have total trust in my partner when he’s got his hands around my throat, throwing me headlong into an orgasm that leaves me trembling. Instead I explained that strength doesn’t only apply to a D/s relationship. It’s true of any relationship where a person reveals themselves sexually. They trust that regardless of their desires, they will be accepted and appreciated.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” she said.
I gritted my teeth as I listened to her rebuttal that made submissives sound less than human. She described us as weak-willed people with low self-worth who let control freaks, aka Dominants, abuse us. In her eyes, wearing a “dog collar” around your neck was degrading.
She’s wrong. I know the strength it takes to give someone power over you because I’ve done it. And I’ve felt the intimacy of kneeling before a Dom, naked and head bowed, waiting patiently to hear the two words that speak to every fiber of my being.
Good girl.
Even though I had the urge to reach through the phone and punch her in the throat, I held my tongue until she called submissives “doormats.” That was it, and at risk of putting all my shit out there for her to feast on, I interrupted her before she could really piss me off.
I told her to throw that shit she was reading in the trashcan where it belonged. I opened myself up a little more by telling her about The Siren by Tiffany Reisz, and I dared her to find any weakness in Nora Sutherlin. But my focus in that conversation wasn’t on Nora, it was on Tiffany. I praised her talent as a writer, and I stressed the fact that the scenes she constructs so beautifully aren’t bits and pieces of research pulled together from Google. They’re from her own life experiences. She’s not a play sub who thinks it’s hot to be tied up while having no understanding of the headspace that comes from within. Tiffany is proud of who she is and openly lives the lifestyle 24/7. In my eyes, she is the definition of strength.
I’m a strong woman, and I see now that I always have been. Like Heather, I have children and a business. I make the decisions, I pay the bills. I survived an apocalyptic divorce that could have broken a weaker person, and it made me even stronger. It gave me the strength to be who I am with no reservations, and I “came out” so to speak to my friends about my kink. Okay, all but two of them.
I’m in a relationship that allows me to be freer than I’ve ever been in my life. And even though it’s not a D/s dynamic, I give him power over me. He recognizes that power as a gift, and he handles it with care. I’m strong enough to be completely open-minded with him which is something I’ve never experienced before. Don’t get me wrong, we’ve reached limits. But because I can be open and honest with him, we’ve overcome them. To me, that’s the epitome of strength.
