The word "unowned" implies that there is a default state, a way things should be. The absence of something important describes a state, but the longer I remain single, the more I wonder about this word.
It has been nearly three years since my last D/s relationship ended. At first, "unowned" perfectly described the aching void left in me without the structure of our dynamic. I had no one to ask for permission, no one to make sure I went to bed on time and no one who craved my ever-deepening submission. It was the absence of so many things—not just ownership or love, but also a loss of identity. What is a submissive when they are unable to serve?
I used to say that I'm a relationship person and that my happiness depends on my connection to another. And frankly, I never believed that you must be happy as a single person before you can be in a healthy relationship. Some people just aren't meant for a single life. As a submissive, part of me has always felt incomplete without ownership. When your sense of purpose and fulfillment relies on serving and obeying another, being single can feel empty. It's right there in the word. Unowned.
But over time, the aching void of "unownership" faded. I learned to live as a single person. And now I feel... fine. No, really. At first, I knew I wasn't ready to submit. Now I'm just not sure I need to. Submission feels like another me in another lifetime. That girl was so sure of her needs that she turned her life upside down for a chance at fulfilling them. Have my needs changed, or have I just been unfulfilled for so long that I'm numb to them? Am I walking around, unaware that the color has drained from my world? Am I actively looking away from the color, too terrified of what it might mean? Too afraid to get hurt, too afraid to make the wrong choice, too afraid to feel so deeply and give so much of myself.
Either way, my submission feels so far away most days. It feels abstract. I have rebuilt my life and my heart so much in the last three years that I nearly feel like a new person. But maybe under all of this newness, there's still a little girl waiting for the right moment to kneel. A friend once told me that these things are like balloons—you can hold them under the water, but they always fight their way to the surface again. I guess time will tell.
But that word—unowned—no longer feels like part of me. I am not defined by the absence of something; I am the presence of many things. And I have to trust that those "somethings" will lead me down the right path, whether I am meant to kneel or not.
~M