Some of us weren’t built to be satisfied by one kind of touch.
I used to think I was too much. That wanting both discipline with devotion and tenderness with teeth meant I was broken.
But I’m not broken.
I’m a system.
I need a Sinner — the one who takes control without asking, whose hands correct and command, who isn’t afraid to drag me into the heat of myself and watch me burn.
And I need a Saint — the one who holds me through the aftershocks, who sees the chaos in my head and anchors it with care, who knows the difference between being still and being frozen.
Both are sacred.
Both are real.
Both are necessary.
This isn’t indecision. It’s design.
Because my brain is loud, my body is reactive, and my heart is so damn earnest. I need care that knows how to pierce and protect and sometimes in the same breath.
So no, I’m not necessarily looking for one Dom to rule them all.
I’m looking for the right rhythm between Saint and Sinner and I’m willing to build it brick by brick.