I feel I owe you, the reader, a warning.
I am NOT looking for sympathy or applause. I am human, this is my expression. It's not right or wrong, it's just mine and that's enough.
This is my experience. My journey. You will never know me. Never understand me. I'm not asking you to.
This is not about seeking council or praise. This is about me processing. Releasing the fears or baggage that I've held onto for more years than I care to remember.
This is about me giving myself permission to not be perfect. To get it wrong. To struggle. And still be every bit worthy of acceptance and love from MYSELF.
There is NOTHING like a relationship to show you your mechanisms and weaknesses. All those little things we think we hide so well from ourselves and everyone else.
I've witnessed more things that I detest within myself than I may ever admit in writing. Which, in many ways, is truly sad. I preach all the time transparency and honesty, yet I am the KING at hiding. Wearing a mask that says, "I am fine." For all to see. I am working on this. Working on loving myself enough to be broken and still a masterpiece.
I've written before on how I've had s types that have said they wanted desperately to submit and failed to follow through. How when their back was against the wall they refused.
What I haven't discussed is the toll that has taken on me. The almost PTSD response from me and my fear around anything that appears to be confrontational.
When I was a child, I was my mother's councilor. She would tell me her woes and ask for my direction. At a very young age I learned to hold a space for her and tried to comfort her. I was taught by her that it's more important to give than receive. Add in my strict United Pentecostal background preaching the same and I learned that my needs, wants, desires aren't valuable or important. I am NOT expressing that was their intent. I am expressing that a young boy who just wanted to be a little boy was told to grow up quickly and put others first.
I rebelled, of course. I just wanted to be seen. Heard. Met safely by my parents and loved. Instead, I was told I was evil. That I had the devil in me. That I needed to repent and change my ways. A little boy doesn't understand this. A little boy only understands he's guilty of being himself, and how rotten he must be if his own parents can't receive him.
Of course, I sought for acceptance in all the most wrong and unhealthiest of ways. Every relationship was an exercise in co-dependency more and more simply seeking for validation.
When BDSM found me, it was when I was very fragile and hoping to find something, anything, that mattered and made sense of this life of mine. What I found was trust. I saw deep, rich connections between Master's and slaves that weren't perfect in the least, but devoted and passionate. I saw slaves that were so enamored and devoted to their Master's that any blind man could see it.
I wanted it desperately!!!!!!!!!!!!
Of course I had no idea how to deserve or earn it. That came with much pain. I just knew though that the kind of devotion I witnessed was the kind of love I needed to make me feel accepted. So I trained (at the time begrudgingly) to hone my dominance. To nurture the pieces of my character that would help me realize my own potential. All of it, from my lens, was in an effort to gain that devotion I saw though. I failed to understand back then that devotion won't cure my own self-worth issues.
I also found a wife. Had two amazing children and thought I was finally accepted. I discovered that I was becoming marginalized and demeaned down to a puppet within marriage, however. She truly believed she was doing right by me to tell me how to talk to my coworkers and boss. She felt like she was supporting me to express where I was wrong as a human and how I needed to change.
Of course, this triggered me. That old wound just deepened. I am NOT saying she was responsible for that trigger or that wound. She absolutely wasn't. She was responsible for how her expression was harming me, though. As I called her out on it and had years of discussions (literally) she simply couldn't see or understand it. She didn't want to or couldn't. To this day, I don't know how she couldn't or why. Not that it matters, really.
I found s types that I just knew would understand me better. They would never reject me. I poured out my heart, my devotion, my energy, my livelihood, my passion, my skill in them and their world as I am always prone to do and found they had their own mechanisms and self-worth issues that depended on me to "fix" them. When I couldn't (and no one can) they would lash out and rebel. Feeling I had failed them somehow. Blamed me for not being "strong enough" to handle their issues. Told me I'm controlling when I asked them to get back into their structure they agreed to and walk their journey of submission. Laughed at me when I attempted to punish them for their agreed upon structure infractions. Asked me how I could expect them to submit when they were going through a struggle.
ALL of this (and so many more like examples) brought up that repeated wound of never being good enough to just be accepted as I am.
I am ALWAYS questioned.
ALWAYS belittled or demeaned.
ALWAYS told I need to work harder.
ALWAYS told I should change.
ALWAYS told I don't do enough.
ALWAYS told I don't do it right.
Please, again, don't hear this is anyone else's responsibility but mine. I will accept in many cases what I "heard" as not enough wasn't what others were expressing. I can accept I "heard" through my pain and wound some of those pieces.
But not all.
I have fought tooth and nail to love all of me. To accept that anyone else's reflection of me doesn't define me. That's just what they see. They don't truly see me. They don't know me. That ANY judgement on me is an admittance on another's part of their own intolerance and lack of kindness.
Yet, I am far from perfect here.
I struggle to maintain my own wants and needs because I fear being rejected.
I struggle to hold my ground for fear of being seen as domineering or controlling, even though we have negotiated our connection.
Add on top of this my deep mechanism to appear alright no matter what and it makes a recipe for disaster.
Amethyst doesn't understand why I am struggling. Hell, she doesn't know that I am! She comes to me and asks why I struggle to hold her accountable to certain pieces in our dynamic.
She wonders why I can't be more direct and forthcoming with my wants or needs.
And my world comes crashing down around me. I hyperventilate and begin to cry and express my fears. Years of bottled up pain from rejection and manipulation.
I don't want her to see me here!!!!!!!
I want to continue to hide and run. Don't see my damage!!!!
I am too broken and I fear her throwing her hands up in exasperation.
As I express and explain, she cries. Tears of feeling my hurt and pain. Tears of anger at how others have treated me in the past.
She listens and holds me close. She assures me I am safe. Though I struggle to feel safe!!!!
Lesson after lesson within me of how I have failed or fallen short of my own expectations. How I loathe myself because I'm not "perfect".
The tears help. I haven't released like that in a long time. I'm scared. I can feel my inner child retreating like I did so many years ago to protect myself from the cold lack of love I experienced.
And there she is........holding me and talking with me. Apologizing that she didn't know I had such severe trauma around these pieces. Thanking me for expressing and trusting her.
I can feel her authenticity and genuineness. It's comforting. And yes, scary. It's everything I've ever wanted and needed. But I've learned to be co-dependent in my past. I am cautious to not depend on her expression but rather simply grateful and open.
This was my experience yesterday.
This dominant learning that he still has wounds to heal.
Still has trauma that's unresolved.
Still has fears that can grab a hold of him and control him if even for a time.
I detest seeing this.
I detest admitting it even more. I know the logic and practical side of honesty. This doesn't change who I am. It doesn't define me. In fact, the reality that I express and can see and walk through this uncomfortable and vulnerable space is evidence of my own strength.
I assure you it doesn't feel that way though.
It feels broken.
Raw.
Damaged goods.
I guess that's the point of this writing.
We are ALL broken. In some way or another. There is no one more broken than another. That's just a story and a lens through which we witness others with judgment or cruelty. Including ourselves.
The honest truth is, unless we can summon the courage to admit we are broken, we will never allow another to see those pieces for what they are........pieces of a whole masterpiece. Because we won't admit to ourselves that's the honest truth.
So...........
This is me..........
Broken.
A masterpiece of pieces.
None unworthy.
None unimportant.
All valuable.
Encouraging all of you to embrace your pieces. Even if sometimes they cut you deep. They are you. They make up the picture of your life.
And it IS beautiful!!!!!!
I hope today you have found your peace and focus.
Namaste
Drago and Amethyst
Written in 2020
