Getting to this place in my mind has been a bit of a journey. Accepting that the things that turn my body and mind on do not make me a freak, or that maybe I have daddy issues and in some strange way this deals with them, has certainly been an inner struggle; one that I’ve kept certain details of to myself for fear of someone telling me I’m wrong while I’m still trying to figure it out.

I’m feeling confident now that I have figured it out, after almost 5 years discovering my kink identity, so here is my submission explained in absolutely no specific order.

1. I Totally Have Daddy Issues

It’s true, I do and I’m ok admitting it. My parents split up when I was around 10 or so and soon after my dad got a new girlfriend and three step-sons. I felt like an unimportant total outcast when I went to stay with him as suddenly I wasn’t his everyday family anymore; not that he did anything to really cause this. I moved to Ontario at age 13 with my mum and sort of lost touch with my dad for a while. There was a period of about a year and a half where we didn’t even speak and it devastated me. Before he died in 2004, we had started to have a better relationship, but I still have no idea if anything I did ever made him proud of me.

I don’t know if he thought I was a failure for being a bigger girl or for not being good at sports, like my step brothers. I have no idea why he didn’t talk to me for that time during my formative and fragile teenage years and I carry that with me like a burden. Finally, I have no idea if he would be proud of me now, were he still alive.

As a result, I crave it now; that feeling of someone being proud of me. The idea that I can be valued and special and precious and a good girl. I have no idea why, when I get that feeling, I get turned on like you wouldn’t believe. That’s too much science for me to bother trying to understand. All I do know is that I have daddy issues, which sucks, but somehow it’s great for my sex life, which rocks. I don’t really understand it, but I do not feel that I need to.

2. I Totally Dig on Sensory Deprivation

Discovering this one has been fun but pretty obvious. Even when I was younger I used to play breath games to feel dizzy. As an adult, I absolutely adore being choked. Ideally, I prefer it to be calm and not violent; though that is sometimes what I get. Giving up that control to another person that I feel safe with is such a comforting and freeing sensation, plus if done correctly, breath play feels physically AWEsome.

Also, having my sight taken from me rocks my world. Being blindfolded and having to rely on my other senses absolutely amazes me.

Again, why does it do things to my genitals? Fucked if I know, but it does and that’s great.

3. I Totally Want to Hear About That Thing You Like

While visiting a handsome man the other night after work I suddenly noticed a pattern that has been evident for years with Harvey. I absolutely adore listening to people talking about their passions. It doesn’t matter if it’s nerd culture, food, fancy clothing or sexual politics; if someone is interested in it and that comes through, I’m hooked. I love seeing people enjoying themselves and light up; it’s why I sit there quietly content when Harvey takes his first sip of booze after a long day in the office or why I’m always so happy when Steph has a crazy outburst of laughter at some dumb cartoon show. Emotions can be exciting. Passion and drive are inspiring and make me want to drop to me knees and go to town on your bits.

Also, I love role playing that I cannot speak. I remember doing it in high school art class for 45 minutes; probably because I talked too much and friends wanted to see if they could shut me up. Even after class though I stopped talking for a while. I did it again with my first boyfriend once. We role played that I was new to town and could not speak anything and we had to talk to one another just through facial expressions, mhmms and head nods/shakes.

Recently it happened with Harvey and another woman we played with. They were getting to know one another while I sat there, saying nothing, for at least half an hour. I loved it. I was completely in his control, willingly giving it to him. My brain was in such a lovely subspace that I had no want or desire to speak unless I was spoken to or given permission to. I suspect this has something to do with daddy issues as well, but hey, I’m no Freud.

4. I Totally Love Physical Sensation

I insist that I don’t like pain and to be honest I think that I am pretty bad at receiving it, but I still can’t help myself. More and more I think about being spanked, having my hair pulled or being slapped in the face. My favorite sex is that which includes at least one of those options, preferably all three. When done well, I am a puddle. An instant, malleable servicebot that does what she is told, no questions asked.

I know it’s fucked but I also like that I flinch now from years of being smacked unexpectedly. I like not knowing all the time when a smack is coming because even though I totally love physical sensation, I love even more giving up control. Feeling scared and powerless is sexy and rewarding and yum yum yum.

Also, being with a person that is hitting you to give you pleasure feels much more rewarding than someone simply abusing you. There’s a certain level of trust that has to be shared between the people involved to allow it to happen and it can be super fucking hot to find that level of intimacy and trust with a lover.

5. I Totally Love Being Dirty and Naughty

It doesn’t really matter what it is. Following someone’s perverted instructions, being examined, gagging enthusiastically, rubbing them under our restaurant table. If it would normally be considered a “shameful” activity by mainstream society, then I want to do it. Being Don Draper’s dirty little secret that he gets with in the hallway, turns me on immensely though I don’t understand it. Not only do I want to do it, but I want to be freaking amazing at it. I take great pride in being a good lover and hope that everyone I am with tells me if there is something that I can do differently to give them as much dirty pleasure as possible.

Being a dirty slut fills me with glee but being a bitch? That doesn’t sit right with me at all.

6. I Totally Need to Shut My Brain Off

This one’s a given and I’ve always mentioned it in the past when talking about kink. Giving into submission lets me shut off my brain and I do not give myself many chances to do that. Even when experimenting with recreational drugs I still fight to stay focused and cannot just give into the sensations my body is going through. I always have to have some grip on control of my life; finding it hard to relax without multi-tasking at the time. I give myself so many tasks in my day to day life that I need to escape from them at times. Submission takes away that need for responsibility that I have and allows me to just be responsible to the person running the show.

In addition to turning off my brain I also like to feel for a while like I don’t have all the answers. I like to have my dominant partners explain things to me that I am certain I would understand if not with them. My brain gets a weird kick out of feeling dumb or less and I am ok with that. Completely. (I promise.)

7. I Totally Love Being Tied Up and/or Humiliated

This one is new to me but I have been tied up a few times and found that the sensation of being exposed, waiting for him to put me in the position that pleases him; standing in a way that helps him accomplish his goal, makes me feel tingly all over. Cleaning his boots, while I lay naked in a heap at his feet; you’d think it would be embarrassing. Instead, I feel immense pride and motivation. I want to do the best that I can and I am proud of myself for doing so.

I know. It’s fucked.

Leftovers

There are probably many other things that I get out giving myself to someone else. I get to stroke their ego and make them feel good about themselves. I can be the person that they tell their embarrassing secrets to that still wants to suck their dick. I want to worship people and give them compliments when they deserve them because making people feel good, feels good.

I feel comfortable now admitting to all of the things that I enjoy about D/s dynamics. I don’t feel like a freak anymore but instead feel like a woman who owns her sexuality and knows what she wants.

I want to be with people that make me feel safe. People that deserve the gift of my attention and devotion. Sometimes I want to have a Daddy but I am still figuring out what that means to me. I know that I melt when being called someone’s girl, even more so when I am a good girl. I know that having a Daddy does not mean I have to be a little girl. I can have a Daddy and still be an adult. I also enjoy being someone’s pet because it lets me feel treasured. I know that I need help being able to express out loud what I want, which is one of the reasons I am writing this all down. I know that my inhibitions are still holding me back from giving myself total happiness and this is my first step to moving forward.

And most importantly, but probably the most frustrating truth of all is that I know that I would do anything for a good spanking right about …. now.

You may be different but when I look at the majority of my friends, a discussion about personal boundaries never comes up. We fall into routines with the people around us and base our future decisions on past behaviour. It might not be that the friends you usually only grab monthly weekend drinks with aren’t into spontaneous fun on a weekday; maybe you’ve just never asked them. Shit, maybe they’re wondering the same thing about you!

I’ve been thinking about this a lot recently and asking myself how many of my relationships are defined by true boundaries compared to expectations and assumptions? Maybe I’m not giving my friends or lovers a chance by putting them into a certain category in my mind. Maybe they’re not giving me the same chance. Maybe I’m restricting myself without even realizing it.

What are the fences I'm putting up, and are they as obvious as this?

We can fall into patterns with people we care about. Roles get defined without us realizing that it’s happening. I don’t find out if some friends (or lovers) want to chat on the phone or hang out for impromptu dinner because I just assume that they don’t since we never have. I edit the sides of myself that different friends see, based on my own assumption that they wouldn’t be interested in the rest of me. At times when people I never talk about my non-monogamy with tell me that they read my blog, I feel like slapping myself in the face for making a blatant assumption of how they view me.

Society does nothing to help us address our personal boundaries and more importantly how to share them. While we’re encouraged in some media to stand up for ourselves, embrace our differences and do what makes us happy, we are left to our own devices when it comes to actually relaying how we do these things to others. You’re just supposed to be there for your friends and should automatically know what that means.

I’m learning that I haven’t been very good at managing my assumptions about others. I always like to joke that non-monogamy is similar to having different friends for different purposes; a gym buddy, a movie buddy, the get blottoed buddies and so on, but I don’t think that I’ve been fair to those around me – or to myself – by pigeonholing everyone I care about.

On Conflict

I had another big revelation this week involving how I deal with conflict, specifically issues that I need to share with other people. In that, for the most part, I don’t. So much of my time is spent being outwardly focused, being there for others that need me or responding to their feelings about things I have done. I don’t tell people about things that have hurt my feelings because I don’t want to give them bad feelings. This is a result of a few things including; a) me always being the strong one growing up – being there for family and friends whose problems seemed so much more important than mine ; and b) many years of trying to talk to Steph about different things I was feeling, only to end those conversations reassuring him that he didn’t need to feel guilty or frustrated but without my issue actually being resolved.

I’m afraid to confront people. I’m afraid that by sharing my boundaries, needs or feelings, that I will either be spending time telling the other people it’s ok OR that I will be told that I am wrong for feeling those things in the first place.

So I keep quiet, and adjust my own personal boundaries. The key step that I’m missing though is that moment when I share with other people either a) if there’s a conflict or b) that I just need some time to deal with stuff on my own. I don’t feel like anyone’s going to notice when my behaviour changes. I make an assumption that relationships will simply adapt to my new thoughts, because I have no idea how to communicate to those that matter what I’m really feeling; what’s going on with my head, what I need. I’m programmed to help people, not help myself.

I don’t WANT to be needy. It’s in my blood to be there for others and I want to be able to always give myself to their needs at a moment’s notice. However, this idealistic view that I used to follow in the past doesn’t match up to my current needs. As I grow older, I learn more about the things I require from myself and my friends to live a happy, safe and loving life and I make assumptions that people will just know what those things are, without me actually communicating them. Sharing a few things here and there on the internet is certainly not an accurate representation of who I truly am and what I truly need, even if I am an “over-sharer”.

Strangely enough, the people who I feel the most comfortable just verbally vomiting all over are the dominants in my life. I am not hesitant to ask them if I’m sharing too much, or crossing the lines because I’m afraid of the consequences. I should show other people similar respect and allow them to tell me their own boundaries instead of assuming that they understand my own.

With all of the above soaking into my brain, I’m accepting that I may not be as good a friend as I aspire to be. When it comes to boundaries, I haven’t been sharing mine with others and made my own decisions on others, without asking them. With expectations and assumptions, I have simply expected that people are not interested in what I have to say, so I let the relationships I have remain as they are. I also assume that people can’t handle my conflict or will react negatively to it, for no fault of their own but because I’m afraid of being wrong for having my own feelings or for feeling guilty for not being 100% there for their needs because I have my own. Then I go and focus on my own needs anyway, and end up making others feel shitty.

If I don’t tell them that they’ve done something that sucks; I suck too.

We are all wired differently and I realize that I have to learn to communicate my boundaries, expectations and assumptions with everyone I care about. I have to give people the chance to react to me in their own way and I have to treat myself with more respect than I obviously have been. Point taken, self.

Rejection is a funny thing. Our reaction to it is rarely logical. Having someone tell me that they still wanted me but couldn’t be with me because of something I had no control over made my brain implode. I knew it wasn’t really rejection of me. I knew I was still held in high regard. I knew that it wasn’t me, it was them.

It didn’t matter though. I still felt like I had failed. Like I wasn’t good enough. Or pretty enough. Or thin enough. Or or or or or …

It’s hard to get over our rejection self-absorption to accept that we are not the only person driving the decisions in our relationships with others. We all want our independence when things are going well, but suddenly when they are going south we expect that our lovers, our partners, our friends should do what we want them to because it makes sense to OUR hearts, ignoring what makes sense to theirs. This was my lesson of 2011 and I am holding it close to my chest in 2012.

Anyway. I’m actually getting to a story.

A couple of weeks ago I was about to go absolutely crazy on a crush friend. I will call him, um, Frank. So Frank and I have known each other, not well, for at least 6 years. He’s the only person I’ve crushed on since before we were open which means I hold him in some sort of strange high regard as if he’s from my “before time”. We’d run into each other occasionally and both Steph and I always enjoyed our chats with him. I have always liked Frank for being, in no particular order, good lookin’, funny, super nice and for having the aura of someone with naughty interests.

When we ran into each other last September and drunkenly confessed to finding each other attractive, I didn’t believe it. The sexy text messages that confirmed it read like make believe. I needed to see it in person to truly before.

Somehow, to my own surprise, a couple of months later, we finally had a night out in a local bar. We got drunk and flirted and made out. My brain was all “what the fuck is happening?” because it was too good to be true. Now I’m wondering if it was. Unfortunately that evening, Steph was coming to pick me up and he happened to catch Frank and I making out on the street. Being the amazingly unphased fellow that he is, Steph was fine with it. Frank however, was not. He freaked out and felt terrible. He fell off the radar for weeks and I had to chalk it up to something on his end.

AS MUCH AS I TOLD MYSELF I WAS PROBABLY UGLY OR WEIRD OR SOMETHING.

Then finally we reconnected and started making plans for some sexy time. Then he cancelled because he was too hung over, which irritated me immensely. Then I cancelled because I had period cramps, which irritated me immensely. And then he stood me up because of an emergency, in front of my friends, which embarrassed me, but I forgave once he explained. Somehow, after all of this, I was still interested and finally ended up in his place. On his couch. Next to his face.

It was odd. It’s always strange to sit next to someone who’s sent you a text about how many orgasms they’re going to give you, like it’s regular conversation that we could have verbally. You want to say “So, about those orgasms …”, but then you don’t. Well maybeif you’re me, sometimes you do …

Eventually we made out. It was great. I found it hard to believe that I was kissing this hot guy I’d liked for so long and he was actually into me. Those texts were real!

Then it stopped. He looked at me and said he had to be honest. Every time he kissed me, he was thinking of my husband. Not in a sexual way, of course, but because he felt guilty. He knew he shouldn’t. He knew it was ok, but still there was that nagging feeling that he was doing something wrong. I didn’t know how to respond. I have forgotten what it’s like to not be familiar with non-monogamy. Once I gathered my thoughts and saved myself from freaking out on him, it was almost impossible to stop the “I’m being rejected.” thoughts from flooding in.

I told myself that he was saying the guilty stuff as a way of getting out of making out with me. He realized that I was terrible at it so he invented a believable excuse that I couldn’t argue with. I’m just not pretty enough. I’m too fat. I’m too forward.

Then I mentally slapped myself and realized; it’s not me, it’s him. He was sitting there feeling terrible about the whole thing. Telling me that he was having a panic attack and guilty feelings when he kissed me. Telling me how excited he was to be with me and how much he enjoyed my company and was really into me. And what did I do? I asked him for reassurance that he still wanted to touch my vagina. My self esteem used the situation as an excuse to talk about itself. My self esteem needed to take a chill pill, but it was hard. We sat there, feeling quite awkward for a little bit, until we were able to relax. I gave him a massage because I just wanted to touch the guy and we chatted about other things. Was I disappointed that all my orgasmic dreams weren’t coming true? Absolutely. I’m feeling a little hopeless at the moment that, even with my slow help, he’s just not built for non-monogamy and there won’t be anything I can do to change that, no matter how much we both want it. I’m giving him some space for now because I’ve realized that I can’t push it. If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out and I will be ok.

In contrast to how Samantha from 2011 would have reacted, I am slowly learning that it doesn’t matter how much I want it to happen; even how much HE wants it to happen. He has his own complicated feelings that I cannot change. I have to stop telling myself that I should have worn a different outfit or put my hair in a different style. None of that matters. He’s into me, but non-monogamy is unfamiliar territory.

It’s not me. It’s him. And I am strangely, calmly ok with that. Finally.

Being open to having a threesome with him is a great plan. It may be exactly the right thing for the two of you to get a huge sexual spark, however I worry about it being with the woman he cheated with. Here’s a few points to consider:

The great thing about this kit is that it’s multi functional. If you just want to restrain your legs, you can do that. Just the arms for a little torturous fun? You can do that too. Or if you want to go all out, tie ‘em all up and get ready to torture your partner with delight.

*cough* … You ARE going to torture them with delight, yes?? Restraint is a wonderful art that anyone can try. You don’t have to be a dominant master to experiment with it. Just having a little interest in the wonderful art of tease, playing with your partner with touch and denial, can bring a lot of sexy connection to your naked times.

If ropes aren’t your thing, no worries as the straps of this system don’t require any nautical knot tying knowledge. And don’t worry about being confined to the bed. We tried it out on our dining room table and it was just as much fun! For all our future dinner guests … we use Pledge. The table’s clean, I promise.

Get yours today online at Ohhh Canada!