Thick skin yet sensitive.
Ably shielded yet vulnerable.
How the fuck are we supposed to function as people, and as submissive people, yet remain vulnerable enough to let others see who we can be when we are in that headspace?
These days, I have brief, rare, small glimpses into being submissive. But the rough lumpish truth is that I haven’t had a D/S exchange of depth, duration and valid reciprocity in years.
Not just a few years.
I had a recent epiphany, based on one of those “Instantaneous Downloads Of a Metric Fuckton Of Information” that I do so love.
And by “I do so love” I really mean “Fuck this bullshit.”
I have a bit of a problem.
I don’t “read as submissive.” And this is really beyond the superficial behaviors that one might expect to see a submissive type performing. I’m not talking about my tendency to not tremble delicately with downcast eyes and heaving breasts.
I’m talking about the fact that I am NOT an organic 360° 24/7 submissive-to-the-planet.
There, I’ve said it.
I don’t walk submissive. I walk Mollena. Mollena has a certain biochemical reaction to certain people and under certain circumstances that shifts her over to Dante’s Inferno (Level II) Submission. But she doesn’t walk that way, because that shit would be fucking nuts.
OK, shit, that was all in the third person. Enough of that. Next thing I’ll be looking for a master in Gorean chat rooms.
I feel like my recent experience is pointing me in the uncharming direction of making sweeping generalizations. But here goes: people are often emotionally lazy.
Amongst the BDSM crowd, we are lazy when it comes to getting to know people. We have postures, labels, clothes, jewelry, hankies, flags, speech patterns and complex and stupid traditions of capitalizing P/pronouns so that W/we can Identify O/one A/another.
All this is to say, we are often a bunch-o-lazyfucks when it comes to reading people.
In my case, being who I am and looking for a dominant partner, I have my own laziness to overcome. I don’t want to have to coax you out of the Dominant Bunny Cave of Cærbannog, out into the clearing, and quietly and gently feed you the tender delicate shoots of my submission like fucking Bambi.
I want them to somehow KNOW it is their “right” to grab me by the throat and throw me up against a wall, knee into crotch, blinding slaps to the face and take me DOWN within moments.
What? Hey, it has happened.
Did I mention I’ve had the bar-set rather high since the beginning?
Dominants can be real lazy about reading people. They want you to throw themselves at their feet and lick their boots in order to clue them in that you’re even interested. This isn’t for no reason…they don’t want their egos potentially smushed any more than any other sensitive human. And I get that.
Where I think that I am floundering is that I may well seem to be self sufficient and not needing of the support ecosystem and symbiotic parasitism that a D/S relationship can create. We all need to feel needed, right? Is it that I don’t project that need everywhere and could that be the reason I’m not reading as submissive?
Well, if that is true, that sucks. I know so many submissive and slave–oriented folks who do very well, thank you, and are NOT wee emotional creepers needing the strong spreading redwood dominant upon which they may cling and depend.
Ghrzz…this is rambly. But I have to pull it out, even in this crippled first-trimester form.
I was at a BDSM event, and presenting. Someone known to me, a dominant type, interjected themselves in to a conversation I was having. They weren’t rude about it; it was one of those organic “melding into a convo you pass by” kinds of things. However, I quickly noticed that this person didn’t really acknowledge my presence, say hi, or address me directly. Now, usually I introduce myself and say “I believe we’ve met…?” and reassess that social connectivity in order to keep the conversation moving. In this case, I wanted to see what they would do. And what they did was to keep talking to the people with whom I’d been conversing, without saying anything to me directly. I wasn’t upset, just bemused. Of course, this was immediately ruffled through the mental card catalogue (yeh, I’m fucking old) and compared to other situations where I’ve been pretty much ignored by dominant types in varying social situations.
Are they all being assholes? Possibly. But some of them are partners of friends, some of them are colleagues, and some of them turn out to be cool people.
But I’m thinking that I don’t bleed submission. I don’t give them that hot fresh bloodscent they are looking for. SO, I’m invisible? Uninteresting? Less desirable?
Maybe that is as it should be. Maybe I’m just the kind of prey who needs to be run and bled before you can pick up the sense of submission.