“All fear is the same no matter the cause of it, you conquer or are conquered by it.
I wasn’t in to losing, not even to myself, maybe especially to myself.”
-Anita Blake
‘Jason’
You see, I have one of those pasts. The kind that makes people pity you when you share your tale. I’m not the girl that wanted or needed pity, it just wasn’t in my nature. It had been 12 years since, but it still affected me, more than I’d like to admit. So much so, that on this particular night, the night I first felt what the BDSM lifestyle had to offer, I felt ashamed for enjoying it. My first thought after this experience was, “You’re broken, that is why you loved it.” It felt wrong to derive such euphoria from being held down, with his hand gripping my throat, and not knowing if the next squeeze was going to be too hard. As a survivor of familial rape, it must mean something about me was...wrong...right? So wrong, that now, I was defective.
I took these feelings and buried them as deep as I could, then shoveled the proverbial soil over it.
Fast forward to 3 years ago, I had a similar experience with a now ex-boyfriend. Even though it was accidental on his part, I again felt that wave of euphoria. The kind of ecstacy that I would later come to realize happens when you give up all control. At this moment, I still felt that shame, and embarrassment, so back in the ground my little dark secret went.
I am not ashamed to admit that I have had my share of sexual partners. Many one night stands, trying to replicate this long ago, but not forgotten experience. I tried and tried to replicate, without recreating….to no avail.
So...here I am. Many wasted years later, ready to admit who and what I am….to myself.
I am a submissive.
That does not make me weak, or any less of a human being. It means that, although I have a strong dominant personality in my work life, I want someone else to take control in my personal life. No, it will not be easy for me to just submit and obey, I am after all full of spirit and fire.
So this blog will be my journey. The journey of finding myself and knowing that there is NOTHING wrong with the way I feel. My journey of finding a dominant. One with the patience to help me grow into myself, and learn who I am. One who doesn’t mind a little fight and independence in their submissive. Most importantly, one who will treat me as his equal and love me mind, body, and soul.
A journey of learning how to get out of my own damn way.
So, to those that are starting their journey, those that are in the midst of finding themselves, or those that have found exactly what you are looking for...I hope you find strength, comfort, understanding, and acceptance within the lines of these pages..
A Literary Submissive
