Dominance makes me vulnerable for lots of reasons. I have talked about vulnerability previously, but I don’t think I have tackled it as it relates to my dominance before, probably because it’s so complex.
Dominance makes me feel vulnerable because I expose myself in it: I give of myself, I share secrets, I let him in to see who I really am, I offer him my control, I trust him to revel in it, I open my inner self up to judgement and rejection. It’s no different a vulnerability than anyone feels when they shed their outer shell and let someone in. The only difference for me as a dominant is that my vulnerability is well hidden behind authority and control and working at getting what I want, so it’s not as visible.
I listened to this Ted talk by Amanda Palmer, “The art of asking“, and what struck me was the statement that “Asking makes you vulnerable”.
For me that’s part of it, and that’s the one I wanted to explore a little because it rings true for me.
Generally speaking, I don’t like to ask people for anything. I don’t like how it makes me feel; weak, needy, beholden, in debt, grateful. That is, it makes me feel vulnerable. It’s one of the reasons that D/s works for me. The understanding that he *wants* me to ask for things frees me of the conflict I feel over it.
Still, my dominance is not some all-powerful force that runs roughshod over everything. It is an agreement, a contract, an exchange with my submissive… and every time I ask for something new, I am testing it, which means there is a chance of failure, and that makes me feel vulnerable. Fear of failure, fear of hurt, fear of rejection… they all lurk there quietly when I take us somewhere new, when I ask him for something and am not sure he will say yes.
It makes me vulnerable to him saying ‘no’, to him ignoring my request, to him going ‘I don’t feel like doing that’, and if he does that, I feel it as rejection, as wrongness, as shaken trust, as hurt.
I am like a lawyer in my approach to D/s in that I never ask for something unless I’m pretty damn sure I know the answer already. And a big part of that is because I don’t like how vulnerable I feel if I ask for something when I have doubt about the answer. If I genuinely don’t know that the response will be positive, then I’ve clearly not done the groundwork necessary to get him to where I want, and I’m not ready to ask the question.
If I am venturing into something new with my submissive, I feel him out well beforehand. I raise it with him in an abstract way, I explore his mindset, I talk around and over it with him, I seed thoughts and ideas, I see how he reacts. And when I think he is ready to go there, I ask it of him.
At the beginning of the relationship, I feel much more vulnerable than later when I know him well, when I trust him. But even then, it’s largely an invisible vulnerability. I tend to be very cautious with men I don’t know well, I am much more likely to wait for him to *offer* than to ask for something (and I recognise, and enjoy, that this requires *him* to make himself vulnerable to me). I do find that I get to the stage, though, where I *need* to make myself vulnerable over and again, to nudge at him a little, to see if he will come with me, to reassure myself that he will, to feel safe.
When I DO make myself vulnerable, when I’m not so sure of the outcome, it actually doesn’t *look* like hesitant fearful vulnerability. It still looks like confident-demandy insistence, but if I have pushed at him, and I am not sure he is going to go there for me, I *feel* vulnerable.
And I really don’t like it much.
47 comments
There’s something wonderful about those times when you make yourself especially vulnerable and that vulnerability is rewarded — when you take a risk and it pays off.
Absolutely true.
I think that the vulnerability of submissives is discussed, pondered, talked about, valued, catered to, worried about etc a lot (as it should be!), but not so with the vulnerability of dominants.
I really never see it as a topic on D/s forums for example. I suspect part of it is in the nature of the power exchange.
By that I mean that I go on and on about how I *seek* vulnerability in my submissive, how I am awed and amazed by it, I reach for it, I treasure it, and I know I’m not the only dominant who thinks that way. In contrast, I’ve never seen vulnerability in a dominant being loudly and proudly valued in that same way by submissives (or by other dominants). I can understand why, but it’s a big difference.
Ferns
You are right there is a lack of postings about Dominants feeling vulnerabvle among many other things. I find that a Dominant who is willing to admit she has these feelings is a very admirable person and I absolutely love when a Dominant says “yes I feel x too”
Respectfully,
mysticlez
I think there is too much of an expectation on dominants that they’ll always be calm, confident, and in control. I think that’s the reason why there isn’t enough talk about dominants’ vulnerability.
@mysticlez, @Neophyte,
I agree with both of you that
a) there is value in dominants talking about vulnerability and that
b) there is an expectation that they don’t really feel it.
The conversation is lacking.
Ferns
Yes…. A thousand times …yes. I get this. Sometimes it can leave me feeling lonely, that no one can understand what I’m going through when it doesn’t go the way I had hoped. I kick myself for taking the chance, for not being that ‘sure’ of the outcome and am left to soothe my own soul. The times it does work, makes me venture out again…..Awwwww the conflict!
~ Vista
I can so relate to the ‘kicking myself’ bit. I will beat myself up seemingly forever when I put myself out there and it turns out I got it wrong. I know it’s dumb and pointless, and really it’s a pretty big personal flaw.
I think people who are brave with vulnerability must recover from mis-hits much more easily (or I hope they do!).
Ferns
Excellent, fascinating post.
But I’m a bit puzzled by this:
“Generally speaking, I don’t like to ask people for anything. I don’t like how it makes me feel; weak, needy, beholden, in debt, grateful.”
Look, if some little old lady asks me to reach up and get a can of beans off the top shelf of the supermarket display because she can’t reach it herself, and I’m big enough to reach, how does that make me, the giver, feel? Pretty damn good actually.
And even an old cynic like me can see that a lot of people still feel that way, thank goodness.
If we look at the list of adjectives you’ve appended to your description of the evils of asking it’s actually quite revealing:
– weak. There’s nothing inherently weak in asking for something. It would only be weak if you were systematically incapable of doing anything for yourself and not prepared to give back if the roles were reversed.
– needy. Well there’s needy, meaning in temporary need of something, and needy (pej) meaning totally lacking in independence and autonomy on a permanent basis. Asking is neither a necessary nor a sufficient condition for being ‘needy’ in the pejorative sense.
– beholden and in debt. Now we’re getting nearer the nub of the problem. You don’t like to feel ‘beholden’ or ‘in debt’ to another person. It’s not for me to engage in psycho-analysis of someone I don’t know, and in public, but it seems to me that you should be looking closely about what these words say about the deep you.
– grateful. I don’t know what the downside of ‘grateful’ is. I’m grateful to a lot of people, some of whom I’ve been able to repay, and others who are not even aware of how much I owe them. And thanks to the wonders of the Internet, I’ve been pleasantly surprised by the people I’ve helped along the way (sometimes unconsciously), and who’ve remembered the kindness for 50 years or more. But there’s one sure thing about gratitude, it’s a helluva lot better than its opposite.
As usual, Shakespeare has the last word. Although Portia’s speech in ‘The Merchant of Venice’ is technically about ‘mercy’, it’s slap bang in the right ball-park.
“The quality of mercy is not strained.
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed:
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.”
“Excellent, fascinating post.”
*smile* Thank you, and I appreciate your thoughts and the time you took to articulate them.
“But I’m a bit puzzled …”
All your points are perfectly reasonable, though interestingly you chose a ‘little old lady’ as your one example vs just ‘some short dude’, so unconsciously at least you DID equate the asking with someone rather to one side of the ‘weak’ scale… heh.
That being as it may, logically dissecting the points doesn’t make a whit of difference to how I feel. I feel how I feel.
I *will* point out that I’m not so ridiculously anti-asking-for-things that I never do it, I just don’t like how it makes me feel.
And there are degrees of course, depending on what I am asking of whom. Asking some random tall person to get something off a shelf: no problem. Asking someone to come and pick me up because my car broke down: not so much. The first is a moment of really minor effort and inconvenience. The second is much more involved, requires them to drop what they are doing, takes time and effort.
I blame my parents *laugh*. I don’t know how it’s their fault, but I’m sure it is.
Ferns
So much truth in this for me too: “I am like a lawyer in my approach to D/s in that I never ask for something unless I know the answer already.”
Great post!
Glad I’m not the only one, and thanks for the compliment *smile*.
Ferns
vulnerability and the fear of rejection is scarey because rejecting hurts and it is human instinct to avoid that hurt if possible.
It would take my partner asking something of me that she knows is something I cannot possibly do or something to be seriously wrong in the relationship for me to tell a Dominant partner “no” because to me that is the same as telling a vanilla partner “I’m no longer invested in us as much anymore”.
Even as a newbie I know this for a fact in my heart because I have had the opposite of “no” to where my partner who considered herself Dominant just didn’t care what I did anymore. She didn’t even have to say it I immediately felt it through her actions and it hurt. To me it was the same as saying “I don’t care about you.”
I really struggle with asking to the point of sometimes, I just won’t ask.
I could go on and on about this but I have talked enough. ~smiles~
Respectfully,
mysticlez
“vulnerability and the fear of rejection is scarey because rejecting hurts and it is human instinct to avoid that hurt if possible.”
Yes, it’s a very human thing.
The main difference with this happening in a D/s relationship (vs vanilla) is that the foundation of it is based on the knowledge and understanding that my submissive will say ‘yes’.
So the potential is that rejection will hurt not only me personally, but our D/s agreement, our relationship, my trust in him, my confidence in his obedience, my ability to read him…
And on top of all that, *I’m* responsible for it because I got it wrong.
And as I say that, and see some other women relating to some of this in the comments, I’m *very* well aware that in some dynamics, him saying ‘no’ is really no big deal. The dominant might go “Oh, okay then,” and they move on. So it’s relevant only for a very particular type of relationship, of which mine is one.
“I have had the opposite of “no” to where my partner who considered herself Dominant just didn’t care what I did anymore.”
*nod* I can understand this. Rabid fury is not the worst reaction from me. The worst is ‘It’s fine, do whatever you want’ because at that point, I’m no longer interested enough to invest in it. Ugh.
Ferns
For us, there are things like this that have come with time, and others that remain sensitive areas.
From the right side of the slash, part of the strength of our relationship and my ability to make myself vulnerable is that Jalan has never in even the slightest way made me regret trusting her. Some couples do a “funishment” dynamic — we don’t, except possibly in a specifically cued scene. Even mild things like getting more of something I complain about, she doesn’t do.
From what I understand of her side, she feels a similar vulnerability to what you describe. She doesn’t want to risk hearing a “no,” or even a respectful “no, Ma’am.” That’s part of what’s been so difficult while I’ve been sick. She’s reluctant to initiate play or sex when she’s in the mood for it, because at some level there needs to be a testing of “permission” for her to move forward — what will my physical condition let her do today? And she is not the one who asks permission, because, in part, of that vulnerability.
So we’ve eventually adapted to more of a system of to my sending initial cues (such as asking outright!) that I’m up for something, and returning the power of deciding what we do about it to her domain.
Not completely on-topic for your post, but an example of that vulnerability from the dominant’s side and one way we’ve adapted to it.
“She doesn’t want to risk hearing a “no,” or even a respectful “no, Ma’am.” That’s part of what’s been so difficult while I’ve been sick. She’s reluctant to initiate play or sex when she’s in the mood for it, because at some level there needs to be a testing of “permission” for her to move forward — what will my physical condition let her do today? And she is not the one who asks permission, because, in part, of that vulnerability.”
I quoted that whole thing because it’s applicable to a wider context: I can relate to it.
I’ve not struck similar because of illness, but sometimes things happen that create that same hesitance (albeit on a less serious scale). It might be that we had an off day, a fight or disagreement, or maybe I pushed something too hard, or he had some transgression: something that has upset the balance, and it takes a bit of manoeuvring to get the equilibrium back when it has been shaken up.
“Not completely on-topic for your post, but an example of that vulnerability from the dominant’s side and one way we’ve adapted to it.”
I think it was totally on-topic, and thank you for sharing it. It’s a really wonderful example of how this vulnerability can be the result of changing circumstances and how you find ways to deal. And I actually think a LOT of circumstances can create that hesitance.
Ferns
Oh dear. A good female friend of mine told me last night that I was ‘not a good sharer’. Compared to her, perhaps not. Now I feel like a cowardy custard!
Well that’s easily fixed. Share MOAR!!!
You’re welcome, puppy.
Ferns
I know exactly that which you speak of, Ferns!
BUT…
I also feel like that I am the party responsible for showing strength & courage, and being a role model for open communications…. so I speak my thoughts and feelings as openly as I possibly can… from the very depths of my soul, hoping my soul energy will resonate with him.
And for the “right” one, I will push the envelope on topics for which I might not know what his responses will be. There is only so much groundwork a Domme can really do, especially early in the relationship.
What I risk is misreading him – not so much his willingness, as his ability. And if there is a clear mismatch, I’d rather know sooner than later.
For this and all the reasons you mentioned, being a Dominant means skating at the edge of vulnerability – both his & mine. I just have to trust (*fingers crossed*) in my ability to walk the fine edge.
“I also feel like that I am the party responsible for showing strength & courage, and being a role model for open communications…. so I speak my thoughts and feelings as openly as I possibly can… “
I admire in anyone the ability and willingness to make themselves vulnerable. I recognise very well that I value in others many qualities that I don’t have myself.
“And for the “right” one, I will push the envelope on topics for which I might not know what his responses will be. There is only so much groundwork a Domme can really do, especially early in the relationship.”
I realise in thinking about what you said about responsibility, that for me a part of wanting to do *all the groundwork* is also that I don’t want to put him in a position to HAVE to say no to me because I got it wrong.
I said in a comment above that there’s not just the potential for personal hurt, but that a ‘no’ can impact the relationship because it makes us *both* feel like we failed. I know a lot of people don’t feel it that way, but that’s how it feels for me.
I’m not sure where that line is because you are right: there’s only so much you can do, and after that you MUST make a leap of faith and trust that you got it right and that he will come with you.
I expect that line is in a different place for every individual, and I know it’s probably a lot further away for me than for many others.
I think that’s exactly why I love the emotionally brave and open boys: They are so much easier to read, and very willing (eager!) to make themselves vulnerable, so while I am waiting to reach the line, they are already running full tilt towards me yelling ‘Plleeeeaaasseee!!’ *smile*.
“For this and all the reasons you mentioned, being a Dominant means skating at the edge of vulnerability – both his & mine. I just have to trust (*fingers crossed*) in my ability to walk the fine edge.”
*smile* I really like how you put that. When I picture it in my head, I see a kind of Venn diagram with ‘me’, ‘him’ and the intersection being the safe space, and those edges that define that safe space keep moving.
Wow, these comments are so long!! Thanks for making me think a bit more about this.
Ferns
I just want to take this (not my laptop, the blog post!) and hit my boy over the head with it to make him understand.
Ha! I hope it sinks in without too many lumps and bruises.
Ferns
Yes,
I feel this one.
If I don’t feel very sure of the answer I am unlikely to ask too.
There was an incident here many, many moons ago when the dynamic was not properly respected from my point of view and it was broken (in an incredibly poorly-judged attempt to tease and be funny). Following that we had some serious heart-to-heart chats about how important it is to me to feel that he understands the massive amount of vulnerability involved for me and how a lack of respect for that felt like a major betrayal. There has an enormous amount of effort on his part to make up for that error and it took some time and some considerable inviting on his part before I was willing to trust him again.
“Following that we had some serious heart-to-heart chats about how important it is to me to feel that he understands the massive amount of vulnerability involved for me and how a lack of respect for that felt like a major betrayal.”
*nod nod* Yes!
It makes perfect sense that he might not have really understood how it felt to you: I don’t think this kind of vulnerability is *visible* (not in the moment, nor in a wider sense as ‘a thing we talk about in general’).
I was really surprised with my last submissive that it took several goes at it to get him to understand how I felt vulnerable at times. It seems a strange thing to say, but early(ish) on, he honestly didn’t think that he had the power to hurt me, like I was invincible somehow. I think that *acts of dominance* (being decisive, taking the lead etc) can make it seem that way, especially to a newbie.
Thank you for sharing that.
Ferns
Ditto… to all of this. Just, ditto.
*smile* Not just me then!
Ferns
You have put into words something I did not understand about myself. It is really quite an eye-opener. There have been times he has not been able or willing to do what I have asked. I had very strong emotions that bubbled over because of it – seen as anger. Of course, to him it looks like I am just mean and uncaring. And in truth I just did not have the words to describe what my feelings were. I suppose they were anger…but because I had been vulnerable when demanding/asking. It can be a horrible place to be in because the fear that you will be told ‘no’ again is there and it can completely wipe out trust & mojo. And yet – what it feels like from here is that I wont risk asking again for what I want because it is humiliating to be told no. It seems to the outside like an ego thing. After all – who is not told ‘no’ on occasion in a relationship? But it is so much more when the foundation of your relationship is M/s.
MK
*Chuckle*
Poor Miss Ferns. Lots of trenchant points and comments to answer! I think we’ll have to wait till she wants to be all thoughtful and stuff!
I was all thoughtful and stuff!!
I do love comments that make me think (as you can tell from my super-long rambling above! Geez, Ferns, talk much?!).
Ferns
@MK:
Yes to ALL OF THAT!!
I think it can and often does manifest as all kinds of bad feelings that make it hard to identify WTF just happened.
“It can be a horrible place to be in because the fear that you will be told ‘no’ again is there”
This is *exactly* what I mean when I talk about it not just hurting *me*, but possibly shaking my trust in him, damaging the relationship and all of that which goes beyond the immediate. Ugh. Carrying that fear of the next ‘no’ (and the next one…) is a D/s killer.
And yet – what it feels like from here is that I wont risk asking again for what I want because it is humiliating to be told no. It seems to the outside like an ego thing.
‘Humiliating’ is something I didn’t mention, but I think it’s right too (how many potentially bad feelings are in this thing?!! Geez!).
I think that’s too complex for me to dig into right now, but I know what you mean. And I do think it looks like ego (and I think there is some of that, for me at least), but if it was *just* that, it would be a much smaller thing.
“But it is so much more when the foundation of your relationship is M/s.”
Yes.
Ferns
I definitely feel vulnerability with my dominance. I have to have a very close relationship and trust built to open up, or I simply cannot and will not play. Nor dominate. Any sort of assertiveness or dominance in a female were so put down in my growing up years, I became ‘submissive’ to get what I want. I found ways to get what I want, when I truly want it, it does happen. But now I’m trying to break down these walls, and step out more boldly to find what I want, its very scary. But especially when I am trying or dominating My boy, and it doesn’t go well, the vulnerability is high. I don’t give up, I want this so badly!
I am really vulnerable when they are helpless, tied up, and when I’m especially controlling their body, or making headway on our ds relationship. I want this vulnerability, I want to be open and feel that intimacy with him. But it is so easy to send the Domme in me packing.
And I say ‘the Domme’ because she is not integrated into the rest of me yet. I’m exploring this side of me, learning how to be okay to be dominant.
SW
ps- The vulnerability in me when I have them where I want them, is so giddy so exciting so so scary!
I have to have a very close relationship and trust built to open up, or I simply cannot and will not play. Nor dominate.
I’m much the same. There are a bunch of reasons why casual play don’t work for me, but one is that if I don’t make it intimate, I’m not interested, but if I DO make it intimate, I feel vulnerable in different ways (mostly afterwards). Either way, it’s not worth it for me.
“I want this vulnerability, I want to be open and feel that intimacy with him. But it is so easy to send the Domme in me packing.”
It sounds like you are doing great, and I’m glad you’ve got a lovely boy to work on this with. That makes all the difference.
“The vulnerability in me when I have them where I want them, is so giddy so exciting so so scary!”
smile* I get the giddy-exciting when I push forward through doubt and it all goes exactly how I want. That makes it all worthwhile.
Ferns
Asking &/or demanding things is really hard work. I think it’s especially difficult and a vulnerable position for women. We are basically trained to be givers and not takers. We are “supposed” to be accommodating and not demanding. So learning how to ask for things is a fine art.
Also, it is a risk in the D/s sense since the dominant is risking the whole dynamic every time she asks for/demands something. If he says no, it’s destructive to the dynamic. Perhaps it’s not the end of the world for the dynamic, but it can erode away the D/s like a river through a rock. Personally, I don’t mind being vulnerable. But too many “no’s” will destroy my feelings of dominance towards someone. Then I reach that point someone upthread was talking about where I start just not caring about the dynamic any more. I become very “Do whatever.”
“Asking &/or demanding things is really hard work. I think it’s especially difficult and a vulnerable position for women. We are basically trained to be givers and not takers. We are “supposed” to be accommodating and not demanding. So learning how to ask for things is a fine art.”
This is a great point. There are certainly lots of discussions about dominant women having to overcome social expectations and norms, but I never thought of it’s impact on *asking* specifically, but it does seem like a logical part of it.
I’m trying to imagine a bunch of dominant men talking about how asking for things makes them feel vulnerable, and have to admit that I’m struggling. That makes me sad, and interested.
“Perhaps it’s not the end of the world for the dynamic, but it can erode away the D/s like a river through a rock.”
*nod* Yes.
“Then I reach that point someone upthread was talking about where I start just not caring about the dynamic any more. I become very “Do whatever.””
Yep, me too (I think *I* said that upthread! Heh).
Ferns
You know, I might have to ask some of my male dominant friends about if they feel vulnerable asking for things. But just in talking to them for years… and D/s stuff does come up… it doesn’t seem that it’s an issue. They seem to be much more concerned with things like “Society will judge me an abusive monster” or the like. It seems to be a given to them that getting what they want is not going to be a problem. (of course, that can and has led to some major cognitive dissonance for a few of my male dom friends when that doesn’t happen)
Anyhow, where I struggle with something internal, they are seeming to struggle more with the external. And I sometimes wonder if that is part of the issue for submissive men. Do men in general care what the outside world thinks about them in that way? Women clearly do care about it too or we wouldn’t wear makeup and have fancy shoes. But do submissive men not want to be perceived by the outside world as somehow “wimpy” (as opposed to being abusive)? Maybe that is why so few of them will go out into the kink community.
“But do submissive men not want to be perceived by the outside world as somehow “wimpy””
Oh hell yes! This is the ONE BIGGEST ISSUE for submissive men who are coming to terms with themselves.
Self perception, social pressure, cultural norms, women’s rejection, men’s disdain and even disrespect in the BDSM community: All of that is real and immensely difficult for submissive men.
I wish it wasn’t. But it is.
Ferns
Thank you for a thought provoking post. I saw that video too and she’s right about asking making you vulnerable, but I guess I just never thought about it from a Dominant’s perspective.
Vulnerability, or the need for such things as after care, don’t get as much attention when it comes to Dominants.
I hope this post prompts others to think about it as much as it has me.
“I guess I just never thought about it from a Dominant’s perspective.”
Not surprising because:
“Vulnerability, or the need for such things as after care, don’t get as much attention when it comes to Dominants.”
True!
And frankly, I don’t write about it much here in public either because it makes me feel weak (I mentioned that in the post linked in the first sentence). I only really talk about it in face-to-face situations when it is having a direct impact on me (that is, when I need to explain it to someone whose understanding is directly relevant to my happiness).
If something happens in my relationships that exposes my soft underbelly, where someone hurts me, or he says no, or I feel fear and vulnerability, I really rarely write about it here unless it’s a BIG DEAL (like a break up!).
All the small times, the little ones where I am made vulnerable, where it doesn’t go so well, where I am hurt or humiliated, I don’t write about them because they I don’t like how it feels to me. I really just want to try and get past it and move on, and I often *already* have a hard time moving past it without committing it to a page on the internet. Doing that makes it MORE real, MORE difficult to forget, MORE of a big deal than it really is. So really, unless there is a *point* to be made (other than, ‘look, bad thing made me feel bad’), I don’t share it.
I think also because this blog is not anonymous, if I write about those things, I am exposing the person who hurt me to a bunch of loyal and rabid readers who would tear him a new one for being an insensitive dick *laugh*.
Ferns
“Vulnerability, or the need for such things as after care, don’t get as much attention when it comes to Dominants.”
I specifically negotiate for aftercare for a scene. People are usually surprised that 1) I won’t play if I can’t negotiate aftercare and 2) I not only negotiate aftercare for the submissive/bottom but also for myself!
It’s wonderful that you know what you need and can negotiate it.
I think the need for aftercare for the dominant is becoming a *little* better understood, and by that I mean that I see it being talked about more and more.
Baby steps.
Ferns
Where do I start this?
I’ve been in a (non-BDSM) relationship with a dominant woman (we’re married) for 24 years.
B is naturally dominant. Its not an overlay, or a playact, its her personality core.
I love B a whole lot. But…
Just lately I’ve begun to feel like a doormat. B makes me feel worthless. I never do enough, what I do do is either “useless” or dismissed as “trivial”.
B says “I do everything, you do nothing”. I’m sitting there thinking “Jesus, bitch, what a load of shit. That’s not even *close* to accurate, you heartless selfish arrogant fuck!”
I feel like I’m under attack. I don’t think I deserve that. I resent it.
I love her. I kept my mouth shut. Up until lately.
Now we’re fighting. Now *I’m* fighting back. That will ruin everything, and I’m so afraid. Big part of me just wants her to love me and stop treating me like shit.
Another part wants me to “Get up off your fucking knees, grab her and feed her into your blazing fiery right eye and watch her burn”. I really hate that inner voice. It’s a damn psychopath.
I get it if you don’t understand, dear reader. I’ve just vented personal psychic poison into the bit bucket.
There is another point, tho, Dom ladies.
Please don’t make him feel like me. I hate this place of feeling.
I missed this comment. I’m so sorry you are in such a place, Lee. It sounds terrible.
I do hope you have worked it out with your wife by now and this was just a rough patch that you were able to get through together.
I wish you the best.
Ferns
Amanda. Yes. :)
“…if I don’t make it intimate, I’m not interested, but if I DO make it intimate, I feel vulnerable in different ways (mostly afterwards).”
Well, that is exactly me. (Sorry, Ferns, I continue to comment on old posts. I’m reading through the archives bit by bit.)
And, to a certain extent, I like that feeling of vulnerability–it can be fun to take a leap into intimacy without being quite sure where I’m going to come down on the other side. But I think many people only see the exterior confidence and risk, and don’t realize that I do actually still feel vulnerable.
I’m thinking about this a lot because I had a casual boy who recently replied to a request that I was pretty confident he’d say yes to with silence. Not a no. He just didn’t answer. And after more than a week he got back in touch, and was bewildered and irritated that I was hurt.
So that is a boy that I’m not seeing anymore. Oh well.
I’m glad it resonated: I really don’t think (still!) that it’s talked about much: this kind of vulnerability and trust is largely hidden. Everyone talks about it for submissives (and how to keep them safe etc), but there is not nearly as much talk about it as it pertains to dominants.
If it works, I also love it: the vulnerability, the step into the void, that watching and waiting. It’s wonderful, and the positive outcome is a thing of beauty.
But when it doesn’t work that’s not fun at all. And I don’t think that boy’s bewilderment is at all uncommon, to be honest.
I do think that it’s important to explain to a new or potential submissive how it works for me because I do genuinely believe that many think it’s ‘no big deal’, that I can’t be hurt, that it doesn’t really matter. But it’s vital for trust to grow, for anything to grow.
And I love getting comments on my older writings *smile*. Hello back here.
Ferns