Meet A...my thing

Cliches are in order, since the last time I wrote here...indeed, time does fly when you are having fun.  Some much needed updates are in order...although I can't remember all the things I need to update about my life, aside from the what I'm about to write.

I surreptitiously mentioned about the big change in my life.  Well let's not hint any longer...I am in a full blown relationship with someone.  Let's call him A. Please welcome him into my life.  He's been someone I've been wanting in a partner and more.  Do I call him my partner?

Technically, in kink-land, you don't. You see, he's my Submissive. Wait...submissive. We have to make the kink gods happy...you know :) Actually, if you ever saw us in public, we act more like Mistress/property, probably because I do refer to A as my thing.  Yet, we're still not sure if we are comfortable calling ourselves that in our circle, since those labels carry a fair bit of responsibilities and expectations.  We did talk about how to describe ourselves in public and decided on Dominant/submissive.  But as a friend of a friend pointed out, I couldn't muster the appropriate enthusiasm for those titles. Like everything in our relationship, all of it is a work in progress.  

Ah yes....us kinksters and those freakin labels. Perhaps, it's befitting to write about these labels again since I have to use them. We will need to perform the rite of coming out as a couple soon...aka change our statuses on Fetlife...so that our intentions are clear and noble...Or something.  And it is important that we choose our labels well. Because, you wouldn't want to change it the next day...NO ONE WILL RESPECT ME AS A DOMME!

How this came to be was rather sudden and the transition felt natural to the both of us.  He proclaimed his love to me and I reciprocated.  I asked him if I could "own" him, and he steadfastly agreed.  Our hearts became united at that moment, and there was no doubt what kind of relationship this is or will be...a D/s one.

For the past 6- 8 months, we've been talking about how this is going to look like, how much control would I exert and he is willing to take, and balancing our kink and vanilla life (He is in transition and is a father. I have other relationships). We have engaged in play, talked about our limits and testing boundaries, and had lots and lots of sex.  We've slept together...Like sleeping together...in a bed...snoring...sometimes with a cat snuggling next to him.  It became apparent rather quickly, that I fucking miss sleeping with someone.  He makes me coffee in the morning, drives me to work when he can, puts the dishes in the dishwasher, cooks for me and brings me good beer and chocolate.  Trust me, it was hard to let him do these things for me in the beginning; but at this point, it would be sad if all of that went away.

He puts his head on my lap.  I freakin love it when he does that!  It makes my heart flutter.  Squee! 

Okay, if you had told me a year ago, that I was going to be in a relationship with someone and that I was going to own him, I would have laughed.  But here I am, with A, who is my thing and my submissive, my lover and boyfriend.

Vulnerability

I've been thinking about this topic for awhile, because I'm noticing the universe changing its message to me.  It's telling me it's time for me to open up my heart.  As luck would have it, a discussion topic came up on one of my female dominant/male submissive groups on Fetlife specifically on how important is vulnerability in a D/s relationship. I think the author was hoping it would spark some discussion between the two subsets of people the group catered to; however, it only generated 2 posts to the thread, both from men talking about being vulnerable at the moment of submission. I'm not saying this view is not less valid.  On the contrary, it takes enormous strength to give someone your power.  By giving deeply of yourself, you are exposing yourself to someone you hope is worthy of this. 

Vulnerability is something you go through whenever you go into any a deep relationship with someone, whether it's a kinky or vanilla.  It's the act of opening up your heart to someone.  What I want to say in this section is that a dominant opening herself to her submissive is no more different than what a submissive does for his dominant.  I am bringing myself to this relationships, which means telling my submissive about my past loves and lives, both the good and the bad, hoping that he doesn't reject me.  I'm assuming that he is also doing the same. I am opening up my heart to someone, and so is he.  And at that point we are both vulnerable and hope that we are not harmed in the process. 

Vulnerability takes away the veneer of ego and expectations.  Vulnerability strips us of our barriers and our expectations, while we bare our fears out in the open.  It makes us more compassionate, more humble, more open to new feelings and ideas, once acceptance takes hold.  Only then can we build a groundwork that will become what roots a relationship, but there are always risks. 

Case in point, both the dominant and submissive are building a foundation to which the power structures of the relationship will rest on.  Dominants strive to create an environment for a submissive to safely express his/her submission. The submissive is telling the dominant what works for him.  It's not unlike an architect and an engineer designing a tunnel.  However, creating this safe environment isn't easy, and requires some work.  But, you start using the word "work" and suddenly people think its an obligation.  

For a dominant,  I equate this to helping the submissive find his path towards the sun, to feel the light and warmth of the sun to rejuvenate and thrive.  And I am his guide.  As his dominant, I will be laying down tracks, building him shelter from the elements, and helping him dig a tunnel to his path.  This requires me to know him intimately, obtain information he may or may not be willing to give, ask him questions to where he wants to go, love him.  We can adjust the schedule to which this tunnel building can materialize, how this will look like, how deep or shallow this tunnel will be, with always the goal that he will want to be on the other end.  This tunnel may be the size of Grand Central Station and perhaps as opulent, however, the submissive may not want it.  He may be paralyzed by fear, too afraid to make that first step.  He's needs may have changed or it's not helping him.  He really wanted to sail in the sea, not take a train ride to his path to the sun.

This bitter reminder is all that remains of this relationship, and you are left wondering what you went wrong.  How did I read him so badly?  Was I building this for me and not him?  What am I to do with this? Dismantle this or find someone who can use it?  All of that work wasted and suddenly you are standing on paradise after a sub-prime mortgage collapse.  Was the risk worth it?  To fail is to lay our fragility out in the open for ridicule, and I can't think of a more vulnerable position to be in.

Sure, we can both hide our "human-ness" get this world built, and maybe get some of needs met.  Would it be real for the both of us?  I mean, I'm sure both of us don't mind building forts out of sheets, a pair of chairs and some pillows and call it a day.  Sometimes, that's something we seek from time to time.  But if we are both looking for something lasting and long-term that fort will feel lacking.  

We open up, regardless of what side of the slash you're on, and anytime we open up we risk being rejected.  But it is through vulnerability that we get to know each other.