Life has been totally overwhelming for me of late. I have written a bit about it, and it really boils down to what the divorce process is like. I haven’t couched it in these terms before, but it is essential to understanding just how bigoted our system is. The judicial apparatus, and indeed, the essence of my wife’s demands from me is that I continue to live my life as a white man with all the professional privilege which comes with it. Her view can be easily described in her comment to me, “you can just put off your transition,” and then the guilt, “you can put the children’s needs above yours.” Indeed. I don’t. But I also know that the transition has begun, and it isn’t stopping.
My breasts are here. My energy has changed. My brain has changed. My “me” has changed beyond recognition. And how people react to me in my daily life is totally different. I may still look like a man, but I am completely female inside. I am not saying I am a woman. No. I am trans. Nor am I saying that I haven’t been affected by a lifetime of male privilege. I have, even if I never wanted it. It’s easy to say you were never hungry after you get up from the table. No, but there is a sweet spot we get to when fasting, when exercising. People calling it hitting the wall. Suddenly, things don’t hurt anymore, time passes, you get into the flow. That is what has happened with my brain.
And that means how I feel about everything, how I react to everything, how touch feels, the things that matter to me, how I relate to people, what I want, what I need, has changed. Specifically, and in relation to so much of what I have blogged about in the past, I don’t need any of the “experiences” of BDSM sessions. That isn’t to say I wouldn’t enjoy them. I probably would. I don’t know. But what I do know is that just being with such a person is enough, is more, is the kind of relationship that I would seek from such a person.
Let’s say you have always loved the Rolling Stones since you were little, that you love their music, always have, always will. Let’s say that Mick Jagger is an idol for you, that you think that Mick is the coolest person you could imagine knowing. And let’s say Mick allows you to tribute him for a few hours of his time in which he makes you feel special, in only the way that Mick can. Sir Mick. Get it. That’s how I feel about the pro-Domme I see.
And I don’t throw that comparison around lightly. I have researched possibly thousands of people in this world, have followed as many, and read many, many of their posts. I believe that the very small number of people I have approached, have had the honour to “play” with are really at the pinnacle of their profession. And I feel okay with likening them to rock stars. They are. At least to me. And asking a rock star for a spanking seems just so selfish. If that’s what she wants, sure, absolutely, I am all in. But even more beautiful than that is to be around such a person as they process the world…in conversation…relating…experiencing.
But to “need” this is to cultivate the shadows. I feel this very strongly. The fun is fun, and should and can happen within that context. But looking for or expecting more is a recipe for sorrow, or even worse, to leave us in this trap where we are chasing our own tails, and not in a positive sense as with the Oroborous.
So, I begin to let go. Let go of everything. As I do this, the universe seems to be offering me more and more. I can feel it bending towards me, delivering me everything I need just as I need it. The flow is palpable. I am reclining into it, feeling it flow through me, into me, carry me, deliver me, and deliver to me…and I can feel that everyone I encounter feels it too. They are swept along with me.
Why is the FSSW different? Because there is no complication about touch. We touch each other. And as my body changes in more than just superficial ways, especially my skin, I have come to understand that my experience of physical pleasure is totally different…and this is not something I need to learn, but also which I crave. Shouldn’t be surprised. I spent my whole life denying this most basic need, that physical touch is my first love language—tough luck for someone who has never let people get close enough to be touched.
My girlfriends are touching me all the time. Hands here, there, everywhere, all natural, because that is how they seem to talk. And feeling this language come to me, learning to speak it, to feel it, is beauty nourishment and joy. And it just is. No strings attached.
When I go back to the context that I believe exists in most pro-client relationships, there is expectation. Payment certainly can create that dynamic. So can male desire. Is there anything wrong with that? I don’t know, possibly, probably. It is hard to say as I have tried to walk away from both. I love the word “tribute” as a way to think about it. In a way, the client is funding time together, time in which there can be a shared experience. That she be an architect of said experience is okay because such is her talent, her profession. And that both should find joy in it is most certainly the case…and I suspect if that is not the case, then the dynamic will not last for long.
I guess, what I am also saying is that to know why we do the things we do is important to ensure that we become increasingly enlightened on our respective paths. To be so is to get more joy from every step. Awareness is the root of joy. It is also the root of personal responsibility.
So there you have it in a messy, illogical ball. “You do you,” is much more than just a statement of laissez faire. It is also a critical life lesson…yes, not to judge, but even more importantly, to do ‘you’, one must actually be ‘you’ in the first place…and that only comes through awareness.
This slave knows what she wants. This domme knows how to give it to her. This domme also knows what she wants. This slave knows how to give it to her. It is her life mission to ensure that it is so. And as they make the perfect embrace, a perfect energetic 69/96 or yin/yang, they are happily realising they are their own reflections.