Under The Whip

"If the violin is making awful sounds, it is generally not the violin's fault." - Anonymous

I heard someone say this at the Holy Fire Conference this year, and it has been rattling around in my brain ever since.

For whatever reason, it struck something deep within me. Maybe because I have spent so much of my life identifying with being of service. Maybe because I am a submissive. Maybe because, if I'm honest, I have spent years believing that if I was not thriving in a dynamic, it must somehow mean I wasn't trying hard enough.

I simply needed to be more obedient. More disciplined. More devoted. More patient. More submissive.
I needed to become a better violin.

In the Leather, BDSM, and Gorean communities, we often talk about service, growth, leadership, structure, and responsibility. We talk about the beauty of watching a submissive blossom under the guidance of someone who has taken on the responsibility of leading them. We celebrate when someone flourishes under a collar, becomes more confident in their service, and grows into the best version of themselves.
But what happens when they don't?

For the longest time, I believed the answer was simple: the submissive must not be trying hard enough. The older I get, however, the more I realize that human beings are far too complicated for that answer to ever be true.

Sometimes the violin isn't being played correctly. Sometimes the music being asked of it isn't what it was designed to create. Sometimes the strings are too tight. Sometimes they're too loose. Sometimes the room is too humid. Sometimes the musician is exhausted. Sometimes the violin has cracks that nobody knew were there. And sometimes, it is simply the wrong violin for that particular musician.

That doesn't make either one bad. I think we do ourselves a tremendous disservice when we approach power exchange dynamics with a need to determine fault. Someone has to be wrong. Someone has to be failing. Someone has to be the problem. Relationships are rarely that simple.

Sometimes a submissive is struggling because of unresolved trauma they haven't yet healed from. Sometimes a Dominant lacks the capacity to provide the leadership they desperately want to give. Sometimes boundaries aren't being communicated clearly. Sometimes needs have changed over time. Sometimes moral or philosophical differences become impossible to ignore. Sometimes communication slowly breaks down despite everyone's best intentions. And sometimes, a Dominant's leadership style and a submissive's submission style simply do not align. None of those things automatically make anyone a bad person. It simply makes us human.

This is something I have experienced more than once throughout my life, but especially within my current relationship dynamics.

Many of you know that I am in a polyamorous relationship with my Masters. For a very long time, our romantic relationship and our power exchange relationship existed side by side. Those two things felt inseparable to me. Today, they are not.

At this moment in our lives, we have ended our power exchange dynamic. Not because anyone stopped loving anyone. Not because there was some dramatic explosion or betrayal. Not because anyone failed. We simply do not currently have the capacity on either side of the slash to maintain the type of power exchange that all of us deserve. And that realization has been both heartbreaking and strangely beautiful.

It is heartbreaking because power exchange is not simply something I do, it is woven into the very fabric of who I am. It is beautiful because choosing to acknowledge when something isn't working is, in its own way, an act of love.

Right now, we are simply a romantic poly throuple. That sentence still feels strange to write.

This season of our lives is confusing for all parties involved. Damon, Calvin, and I are navigating what our relationship looks like without the structure that existed for so many years. We are learning one another all over again in some ways.

The truth is, I don't know what our future looks like. I don't know whether we will eventually return to a deeper power exchange dynamic. I don't know whether collars will once again find their place around my neck. I don't know what service will look like six months or two years from now.

What I do know is that life has been throwing an extraordinary amount of bullshark at all of us lately. We're stressed. We're exhausted. We're healing. We're preparing for a move. We're trying to survive while also figuring out who we are becoming. And that's okay.

Sometimes growth looks like leaning deeper into service. Sometimes growth looks like stepping away from it for a while. My hope is that once we've moved, settled into our new lives, and found our footing again, we will be able to revisit what a deeper connection and power exchange might look like for us.

Or perhaps we will discover something entirely new. Both possibilities are worthy of exploration.

What I am learning through all of this is that submission is not measured by how much suffering I can endure while pretending everything is fine. It is not measured by how tightly I cling to a title or a collar when the relationship underneath it is asking for care and attention. Submission can also be honesty. Submission can also be vulnerability.

Submission can also be saying, "This isn't working right now, and I love you enough to acknowledge that."

I am still a Leather person. I am still Gorean. I am still devoted to service. And even though I am not actively their slave or held beneath their collar today, Damon, and Clvin remain my entire world. I love them fiercely and deeply. I am, and always will be, loving and loyal to them. Titles may change. Dynamics may shift. Relationships evolve. Love remains.

And finally, perhaps the most important lesson I took away from that quote,

Sometimes a violin is broken. And sometimes the person holding the violin is not the one meant to fix it. Sometimes the violin needs to retire. Sometimes it simply needs to spend some time in the repair shop learning how to become whole again.

Therapy, healing, self reflection, and personal growth are not signs of failure. They are acts of stewardship over the instrument we have been entrusted with, ourselves.

No violin should be expected to produce beautiful music while its strings are frayed and its body is cracked. So if the music sounds awful, perhaps we should spend less time assigning blame and more time asking better questions.

Is the violin okay?

Is the musician okay?

Are they meant to create music together?

And what kind of song might they create once they've both had the opportunity to heal?

Sometimes, that question matters far more than who is at fault.

I pride myself on mentoring people in this lifestyle. It is something I hold close to my heart, and I take it seriously. I tend to mentor one on one, quietly, intentionally, and with a lot of care.

I also want to be very clear about one boundary I keep for myself, I don’t mentor Dominants. That isn’t judgment, it is ethics, at least as I understand them. In my world, Dominants should be mentored by other Dominants, and submissives by other submissives. Power deserves to be learned from those who live it from the same side of the slash. But that’s a deeper conversation for another day.

That is my opinion. No, I will not argue it, in the comment section.

Recently, someone asked me what I like to start with when I mentor. What’s the first lesson? What do I teach right out the gate? The honest answer is, it depends. I know how much people hate that response. It is so vague.

Most of my mentoring is tailored specifically to the individual, because no two submissives are the same. I shape conversations, lessons, training ideas, and guidance around the kind of submissive you desire to be. I also say this early and often, I am not an expert. Not even close. Everything I offer is rooted in my lived experience and the education I’ve gathered along the way. I don’t pretend to know everything, and I never want to.

After we talk about consent, autonomy, bodily agency, and your rights as a human being and a submissive, there’s one thing I almost always say next.

Surround yourself with other submissives. As many as you can.

Please don’t make me your only mentor. That’s not healthy, and it is not fair to you. I can only teach what I know. For example, I am not a full time brat, so I would never claim I can fully educate someone on that path. I can offer perspective, sure, but lived experience matters.

Find submissives you admire. Find ones whose energy calls to you. Find ones who submit differently than you do. Each of us carries our own stories, wounds, joys, mistakes, and wisdom.

I like to think of it like a big, infinite buffet table.

Every submissive brings a dish. You get to sit at the table, talk, listen, learn, and taste. You can fill your plate with the things that nourish you, the flavors that feel right in your body and your heart. And the things that don’t resonate? You can simply smile and say, “Thank you,” and leave them for someone else. No guilt. No shame. No judgment!

Always take guidance with a grain of salt. Not everything will apply to you, and that is more than okay. It is healthy. What matters most is that you are happy, your partner is happy, and the dynamic you’ve negotiated together is consensual, informed, and intentional.

You don’t need to submit the way I do. You don’t need to submit the way your friends do. You don’t need to submit the way anyone else thinks you “should.”

You are not them. Your relationship is not theirs.

You are a unique and beautiful person, and that deserves to be celebrated, not corrected. So go to classes. Read books. Devour podcasts. Attend live demos. Ask questions. Listen more than you speak. And when possible, experience things in consensual, risk aware ways. Be informed, be cautious, and be gentle with yourself, because yes, sometimes shit happens, and sometimes we get hurt. Growth isn’t sterile. Learning isn’t always pretty.

But you are allowed to learn. You are allowed to explore. And you are allowed to become the submissive that feels most true to you.

Shared spaces in the kink community are a privilege, not a right.

They exist so we can come together, across dynamics, identities, structures, and lived experiences, to learn, connect, support, laugh, vent, heal, and sometimes just breathe in the presence of people who get it. These spaces are not created so someone can show up, scan the room, decide they don’t approve of the people in it, and then take that judgment elsewhere to belittle, mock, or publicly berate them online.

That behavior is unacceptable. Full stop.

If you attend a shared space and see people living their lives, practicing their dynamics, or expressing their submission or Dominance differently than you do, that does not give you permission to attack them. Just because something isn’t your way does not make it wrong. It simply makes it different.

Here’s the part some people seem to struggle with: no one else’s dynamic affects yours if you are not part of it. Their relationship does not weaken yours. Their structure does not invalidate yours. Their expression does not diminish your authority, submission, devotion, or identity in any way.

And if you claim that someone else’s dynamic “influences” you? That is not their problem. That is a you problem.

Shared spaces are not echo chambers meant to mirror your personal beliefs. They are community spaces. That means diversity. That means differences. That means seeing people who don’t do things the way you do, and learning to sit with that without lashing out.

Let me be extremely clear about my own boundaries.

People who show up to shared spaces, observe others, and then choose to judge, ridicule, or attack them, publicly or privately, are not welcome in any space I host. Ever!

The spaces I create are protected intentionally. I consider it a sacred duty to safeguard the people in our community, especially those who are vulnerable, learning, healing, or finding their voice. My responsibility is not to appease closed minded individuals. My responsibility is to maintain spaces that are safe, respectful, and free from judgment and harassment.

If you are so rigid in your thinking that you cannot coexist with people who practice kink, power exchange, or relationships differently than you do, then the work is yours to do. Maturity means recognizing that your way is not the only way. Growth means educating yourself instead of attacking others. Wisdom means understanding that community requires tolerance, humility, and respect.

This community is wide. It is layered. It is complex. And it is not built to cater to anyone’s ego.

So here is my firm and final stance, If you cannot show up with respect, openness, and basic human decency, you do not belong in my spaces. I will always choose to protect my community over indulging judgment, cruelty, or intellectual laziness.

We are not required to be the same.

We are required to be respectful.

And that is a boundary I will continue to enforce, without apology.