On being written about

Yingtai was kind enough to ask me a question in my last post’s comments and save me from my non-bloggery (thank you!).

When I started my blog I desperately wanted advice on what a future dom might NOT want me to write about. God knows my past doms have been a lot more private than I am. (I think subs must have some kind of compulsion to confess.)

*smile* Now of course I have zero idea what a future dom might not want you to write about, but I CAN tell stories…

I’d say first off that as a dominant, I’d love anything my submissive had to reveal about themselves in any blog they had. I would devour all that information like candy. I would love it.

But when it comes to my submissive blogging about me, I am really uncomfortable with it. Oh the hypocrisy!! I know!

When I had my (ex) boy write here on the blog about me and us, holy hell I struggled. And that meant that WE struggled. I wanted to control it, I wanted him to change things, I didn’t like this, and I didn’t like that and and…

It was surprising to me because I loved the way he wrote, I adored the things he had to say but suddenly when he was drawing a picture of *me* and *us* for public consumption, I felt exposed and vulnerable.

Obviously everything I write here is under my control. I AM a control freak and this is my *voice*. So when someone else got to tell *our* story from a different perspective, I was all interferey and difficult and contrary. And finally he got fed up and said to me, “Look, just tell me exactly what to write and I’ll write it, okay?!”

Point well made, and taken.

So I stepped back and let him have at it and I posted his thoughts unedited. And they were funny and wonderful and amazing, like he was. I loved it.

But of course, he wrote those pieces when everything was going well with us.

A second story, while I am telling stories…

Bambi had a blog when we were exploring the possibilities with us. He didn’t write more than peripheral and sweet hints of us in it in the lead up to our meeting. But when he was here and it wasn’t going well, he wrote a blog post about how he was feeling and he showed it to me before he posted it. He is a lovely man, and he wanted to check with me that it was okay before he published.

And ‘ouch’. It was hurtful. Not because it said anything horrible about me: it didn’t. It hurt because it said a lot about his unhappiness being here in Australia, how much he wanted to go home, and it said NOTHING about me. It was as if none of the sweetness between us existed or perhaps it just wasn’t worth anything. I had ceased to exist.

I could have asked him not to post it, and he wouldn’t have, but I thought that would be terribly unfair of me. I asked him to acknowledge me as a ‘not horrible’ bright spot in his unhappiness, which he did. That was probably unfair of me also.

In short, I have learnt that I hate being written about unless it’s purely about singing my praises to the heavens. I’m a control freak and an egomaniac and having someone else write about me pokes at both of those things and I don’t like it. I don’t like it one little bit.

Other dominants/submissives/people may be completely fine with any and all of it.

But me: Nope. Not happy. Do not want.