Polyamory -- The Second Decade

I have, over the years, written about polyamory, both in the abstract, and more specifically, about how we do it inside our family.  Recent public discussion about "marriage equality" has given me reason to think in "updated" terms about my own thinking and understanding related to polyamory as we move into our second decade of living that relational model.  So, that's what follows here -- the state of my thinking on the ideas that comprise the practice of polyamory... at least for me.

I think that any decent conversation about polyamory as a lifestyle choice is going to be long and winding and probably convoluted.  This will be an overview of my current understanding.  This is not all there is to say on the subject, by any means.  

Let me start with a bit of a disclaimer, lest this be misunderstood.  I don't think that polyamory is the "best" relational model for everyone.  I do think that there is ample evidence to suggest that monogamy is not a very congenial relational style for some significant chunk of people.  Please understand that, when I describe and discuss poly within the context of my own relationship and experience, I am not being prescriptive.  

Those who have been reading us for any period of time probably know most of the story about how we three came to be a family.  There was no plan for that in the beginning.  When I first met Tom and T, I'd never heard of poly.  The term actually came up in a conversation over dinner the first time we met face to face.  At the time, Tom explained that they were "poly" in the sense that He met and spanked others.  We didn't really talk much more about it than that.  Much later, when we were all confronted by the reality of our very own polyamorous love, we hammered out a version of poly that worked for us.  It was all about us, and we never explored what "else" that might mean in some future we couldn't see or imagine.  It really was, in the beginning, a sort of mutual agreement that no one had to "lose" inside of our family.  That understanding included my husband in the early days, although he bailed out on the arrangement pretty quickly.  

Looking back, I can see the four of us so clearly.  We had no idea what we were doing. We simply knew that we all loved each other, and we chose, deliberately, to take a leap of faith and construct some kind of structure that would honor and perpetuate the love between all of us.  There are people who identify as poly, and then set out to deliberately form relationships that involve multiple partners from the very start.  They negotiate carefully, and they define boundaries and expectations.  They do a lot of up front work, and their agreements help to shape the relationships between them.  We didn't do any of that.  We really did fall into poly out of necessity, and we worked out the details of that day by day and situation by situation.  Mostly, that worked just fine.  Even as He occasionally found someone He wanted to play with, it was OK.  There were a few of those who came and went, and it really didn't cause any big drama.  They were "casual" play partners and nothing more, and there was nothing about any of those encounters that raised any alarms for any of us.  Our one abortive foray into a more serious poly entanglement pointed out some of the shortcomings in what we knew and understood about polyamory at the time.  We really had no idea about the complexity of forming NEW poly relationships from inside an existing and established relationship.  We did not know, because, in truth, we hadn't ever really done it before.

I don't want to imply that I've "got this down," or that I am any sort of expert when it comes to doing polyamory, but I think that I know some things that I did not know ten years ago.  I don't know if we will ever again feel the pull to open our lives up to someone from outside, but here's the "wisdom" that I think I've gained by surviving this long through all of it:

1 )  Our alternative relationship is the living proof that it is possible to make your own rules for your relationship.  I think that we are all culturally imprinted with this monogamous/coupled model for love and commitment.  We learn, over time, that the model we are given for relationships has serious flaws and often just doesn't work well, but we have NO OTHER models.  So, most of us never understand that we can make up relationships that really do work to make us happy and complete.  One of the things that I think successful poly people learn to do is to forge creative, mutually satisfactory agreements about their relationships, and they learn to revisit those agreements and adjust them as they go along and things change.  Because, change does happen.  We age, and we grow, and we encounter the losses that come with living day to day.  What seemed good in the beginning of any relationship may come to seem dull or constricting or too demanding as we move from our 20s to our 30s to our 40s and beyond.  So, part of the "wisdom" of poly is that it rejects the notion that there is one "right way" to be inside of a loving relationship.  There is no "one size fits all" model for loving someone else.  Of course, many monogamous relationships make adujstments and accommodations as they move from year to year.  Still, even though most of us know that to be the case, we continue to put out that "one man one woman -- happily ever after" myth.

2 )  Polyamory, for those who manage to do it successfully, is a way to address the complexity of the human person.  Monogamy insists that we find the one person who was "meant for us."  That person is then supposed to become our sun, moon, and stars.  They are also supposed to be our best friend, confidant, defender from the storms of life, appreciative audience, chief advisor, financial partner, parenting partner, and employment coach.  We set up our marital partner to fulfill the divergent roles of housemate, dance partner, travel companion, bowling buddy, spiritual advisor, date for the opera, entertainment manager, family social director, interior decorator, live in comic relief, nurse, and favorite (and more to the point, only) fuck buddy.  It is impossible.  No one person can reasonably do it all for us through all of the days of our whole lives.  So, polyamory provides for the potential that we might not need to supply all of the needs and wants of the person that we love.  Successful poly folks create webs of people with whom they build up a variety of intimate, loving connections that fill in the various compartments of their lives with people who meet their needs in different ways.  When it works, I suspect that it makes for a very rich, full, joyful way to live.

3 )  Polyamory is grounded in the notion of radical honesty.  For polyamory to work, partners have to be willing to tell the truth about themselves and their needs and desires.  They also have to be willing to listen to their partners with openness and compassion.  Inside of a poly relationship, it becomes possible to acknowledge that there are places where we want or need something other than what we can get from our primary (or monogamous) partner.  I sometimes think that poly's are good at compartmentalizing their various needs.  For example, if I have one partner who hates the ballet, but I have a healthy relationship with another who adores it, I can go and enjoy the ballet without dragging my unwilling, non-ballet-type partner along to something he hates.  Meanwhile, it might be that my non-ballet-type partner might find it pleasant to spend the evening at the ballgame with his sports-crazy lover.  And, of course, there are plenty of other wants and needs (sexual, relational, intellectual) in all of our relationships that we find cannot be easily "had" in a one on one monogamous relationship.  That is the sort of relational equation that most poly people have in mind when they spout that ubiquitous "more love makes more love" maxim.  

I think that much of what I have struggled with when it comes to poly has been about the basic inequities that we tried to balance against the promises that poly offered.  The  lesson of the passage to this point is that our "one-sided" power dynamic skewed the benefits of the poly lifestyle so that there were none that accrued to me in the event.  When He fell "in love," I experienced that as a huge loss.  There was no "more love" for me in that arrangement.  The M/s card was played so that I was required to be there waiting patiently whenever He might come back to THIS part of His life.  For that space of time, I lost His attention and His presence, and because of our power agreements, I was unable to make up for that loss with other partners of my own.  All of the balance and openness, promised by polyamory, was denied to me, and within our relational setup.  I was required to remain monogamous while also being required to embrace the concept of polyamory.  Impossible.  For me, anyway.  

If we ever try that sort of poly again, and I do not know that we will, I am fully prepared to insist that there be complete openness for us all.  I am convinced that I'd be much better at celebrating His loves, if I were not entirely dependent on the He+I pairing for getting the love and affection and companionship that I want and need. 

Right now, it seems that our triad is closed and inward looking.  I think that is part of our continued healing, and it feels appropriate that we wrap up around each other and hold on tight.  Right now, we are just breathing in the peacefulness of this calm place.  It may be that, in time, there will be some move to look outward again.  Or not.  I don't know.  I only know that if we move outward into more open poly practice, I will insist on some sort of foundational equity between us all.

I'm sure there is more to say, but that might be a start.

swan

Abject Obedience

Friendship is a disinterested commerce between equals; love, an abject intercourse between tyrants and slaves. 

~~Oliver Goldsmith~~

It has grown quiet and gentle in our lives since we discovered the roots of the debilitating despair and depression that gripped Tom, and with Him our whole family.  The addition of the metabolic supplement, L-methylfolate, created a balance that was, quite possibly absent throughout His entire life -- and restored Him to clear-eyed, happy, sanity.  When the darkness cleared, everything changed.  The storms that nearly tore our world to shreds ended, and suddenly we are alive together in a reality that feels so much better than what was … It is also true that there is much about that new reality that seems foreign; unfamiliar in a host of ways.  

On one level, I have been glad for the changes.  It is good to not be caught up in a continual fight for survival.  It is good to not be constantly afraid of what the next moment might bring; good to find stability and consistency and sanity.  However, I have also been prone to question who we are now -- what is it that we have left now that we don’t have all that fire and fury and frantic struggle?  
He seems content to just let us be what we are, and to see us become what we will become.  He does not appear to feel the need to define our relationship or our roles.  When I have fussed about it, He looks bemused, and suggests that we can just be Tom and Sue.  I have lain awake nights, railing in my mind, at the ordinariness of that -- just Tom and Sue.  How many couples must there be who are “just Tom and Sue?”  I’d imagine that those who have followed me along these many years might not be surprised by that bit of mental fussiness -- is it funny?  Probably.  
Were we extraordinary when we styled ourselves “Master and slave?”  Was my capacity to serve somehow more than that of any other loving partner, and was the erotic bent toward sadism and masochism that He and I shared sufficient to set us apart from others who enjoyed a powerful and passionate erotic love?  For whatever reason, I had myself convinced that the love we shared was “special,” and that my drive toward submission and masochism, paired up with His sadistic and dominant personality traits, constituted a formula for perfect and unmatched love.  I guess I needed to feel superior and special, like He and I were fated, star-crossed, meant to be -- for always and in all ways.   
I have, through months of therapy, and through all the agonies of recovery through which we have passed, bemoaned the loss of my “slave” status.  There is irony in that, is there not?  After all, what sort of “status” ought to accrue to one who is truly “slave?”  I know it makes no reasonable sense, but I have felt that as a loss -- and grieved accordingly.  On more than one occasion, Judy, my therapist has challenged me on the issue of whether I really wanted, or was prepared to give Him (or anyone, for that matter) what she termed “abject obedience.”  It has remained, between us, a question that I have avoided answering directly.  I have, over time, come to terms with the undeniable reality that I have clear limits, and will act to protect my life and well-being when those things are threatened.  I have accepted that as a fact, and I am clear that it is appropriate that I maintain those boundaries.  I am even willing to acknowledge that my failure to establish and defend those boundaries contributed to the huge crisis that befell our family.  That was my responsibility and I did not manage it well.  But, still...  I have believed that, somehow, my failure to offer that level of obedience in that awful moment cost me the depth of intimacy that was wrapped up in the M/s dynamic He and I shared.  I have believed that.
Back in August of 2009, I wrote at length on the subject of “mindful obedience.”  That piece grew out of a question about “mindless” obedience, and it was a pretty easy step off to turn mindless into mindful and then hold forth about what that meant to me.  I’m not ashamed of the writing there, but I am a little squrimy about the contrast with my actions and choices in the moment of crisis.  Still, I have been unable, when pressed, to give a full and direct assent to the idea of “abject obedience.”  So, maybe it is time for me to consider the questions that phrase raises for me...
The word, “abject” comes from Middle English, and before that from the Latin abjectus -- to cast off or reject; literally, “to throw away.”  In modern usage, it implies a sense of hopelessness or resignation.  And so, to offer “abject obedience” would be to become obedient out of a belief that there was  no other path, no way beyond, nothing at all to be gained by any other course.      
I think that, as life spiraled out of control here, I did move toward hopelessness.  There was nothing that I would not have done to bring Him out of the addiction that nearly destroyed Him -- and all of us.  There was also, in the depth of my being, a knowledge that my love and service, and yes, even my obedience was never going to be enough to break the hold that alcohol had on Him.  I grew up with alcoholic parents.  I raised an addicted child.  I knew the truth, and so my continued obedience was, in fact, “abject.”  I was resigned to the increasing distance between us, to the escalating anger and bitterness, to the recriminations and bitterness and accusations and abuse.  I knew, in some deep and wordless part of my mind that nothing good could come to us along the path we were traveling, and I had no hope of any sort of rescue or reprieve.  That is the abject obedience that I offered my Master in the last weeks and months before that part of our life finally ended.  It was pitiable and pale and lifeless.  It was a poor, poor sort of submission I gave in those days.
So much for the high-minded, and prettified version of “mindful obedience” that I once detailed for another.  THAT sort of obedience would have found a way; would have sought out appropriate help and taken the risks to assure that He received the help He needed.  That sort of active, listening obedience would have been selfless enough to withstand His anger in order to find the resources that He needed to break free from the demons that were pursuing Him.  That sort of slave would have never given up hope; never settled for what became our daily reality; never allowed for some kind of resignation to whatever would come.  What sort of slave “resigns?”
So, the answer to the question about “abject obedience” is that I will not offer that to Him again.  I am ashamed that it was what I gave Him in the moment when He most needed my strength, my integrity, my intelligence, and all my effort and energy directed toward His well-being.  I understand that, given the road we have traveled to this point, we are lucky to be still alive, still together -- and I am in awe of the fact that He still loves me and wants me.  We are, clearly, better than we were a year ago, or two years ago...  We are healthy and happy and amazed to have this life together.  He is right.  We are who we are.  We will be who we will be.  And, to be just Tom and Sue is not ordinary at all -- it is the most wonderful and extraordinary thing imaginable.  Perhaps that highly charged label, “slave,” is gone forever from our relational lexicon.  Perhaps that is all for the good.  I hope to grow into the woman He wants and needs; to love Him well and with all the best that is in me; and I hope to live the always and all ways that I promise.  If I can come to a place of doing that, I believe that will be enough.
swan

My Latest To Sue in the Aftermath of Our "Impasse"

Two posts below, in "Impasse," I described our most recent developments as we continue to struggle through my/our recovery or sentence or whatever it is this now year long passage has been/is. The aftermath has led me to question what is the basis for our power exchange relationship, in that it has clearly profoundly changed from what it was through our past years together.

I am struggling to figure out what it is that can still work for us. I am seeking her involvement in that process with little success. Anything I do feels to me as though it is defined as being abusive, no matter how I try to approach it..............or that is my perception.

I wonder if since Sue has trouble discussing this with me in person or IM if perhaps corresponding here she will feel more comfortable responding to these issues.

Perhaps too someone else has some wisdom that can help resolve this.

Anyway this is an email I wrote to Sue this morning, after my trying to discuss the issue of what the status of our current M/s is in the aftermath of the events of the past week, and then having that discussion being ruled out as one that she could engage in because that was an excuse to beat her up. So here is my email:

OK so I get that somehow you think my feeling sad and hurt about the end of our M/s is some sort of abuse or one-up-manship or something................I don't understand what.

Maybe if I write to you it will make some sense. It is clear that you are in control of this relationship. You control my life. You want to be benevolent in that control and you want me to express a sense of power too (if I ever have that sense again). You would welcome that.

I am confused entirely about this business that you want to assert your power and then you want to go back to what we had before--our M/S or something like it. You want to dictate the terms of that relationship by making ultimata of what it must be or else you will pull away or end it. I may not share about my feelings if they are topics you have ruled out of bounds, or you will end conversations or go away. I don't understand how all this can be true..............I am Master who is dictated to.

The M/s we had you sought and you defined. I certainly concurred and then took the Master role from your definition and consent. I had ultimate power to decide. There was never anything like you telling me what you would or not discuss. There never was anything like you telling me if I stepped out of line by discussing things you didn't want me to you would just walk away or leave. That was totally out of bounds. Now we have this............and your need to label what we are now M/s, and my huge need for us to be OK together and to feel some sort of well-being between us again.

Please do not see this as some sort of "abuse." Talk to me...............or if that is not possible write to me.

What is it you want under the lable of M/s. You want me to give you your collar back. What does that now mean? I don't get this. I am not trying to abuse you. I am lost, confused, hurt. I don't know how to relate to you or what I can say or do. Could it be all we have to do is negotiate a new power exchange (DUH as I write that it is so obvious to me I can't even believe it took writing this for me to express it.)

I was dumbfounded this morning when you told me that you were ending the conversation because for me to bring this topic up was just a way for me to beat you up. I don't know where I can go with you in conversation.

Then when you bemoaned your not having a collar despite this, I feel like I have landed on some new planet where I am dealing with an alien with no cultural commonality as a basis for conversation.

So what is it you want for us to be? Let's go back to M/s if that is what you want. What would that mean to you? I will respond from my perspective as best I can, although I don't know that I have enough sense of my self to even know what it is I want....who I am to want anything.

This is just yet one more final loss that I don't understand, don't know what to do with..........

I love you,

Tom.

Words, Words, Words

I knew, yesterday, that Tom was working on a post.  He told me that it was about the last year and where He feels the journey has brought Him to this point.  We didn't really talk much about the content -- more about His work (real labor) to try and get it done.  It wasn't easy for Him to write, and as the day went on, I could hear the strain in His words... His post is so raw.  When I read it last night, I found myself without words -- awash in roiling, swirling, tumultuous emotions.  We went off to bed without discussing it.  It is hard to read -- and I can understand the reactions that it evoked; just as I can understand the overwhelming silence emanating from nearly 800 people who read His words.

Today, He was at pains to assure me that He did not want to hurt me with the words He wrote... and I told Him I was fine.  I was not hurt by His words.  I've been hurt by the things we've been through in the last year -- we all have, and I am impatient for the hurting to come to an end, even as I know that we have still got a long road to travel before we are able to feel that we've healed from what has happened.

It is very likely that there will be more posts here in the coming months and years that will be difficult to read -- the stories that we've told to this point represent only a part of what has transpired.  The bits and pieces of what we each experienced are still becoming clear; we are still figuring out where each of our separate perceptions match up; we are still identifying the gaps in our shared experiences and knowledge.  We are only now beginning to be able to really hear each other; really feel for one another; really reach out and try to support and comfort each other -- and we are just beginning to reach the point where those overtures feel welcomed. 

As always, readers here are invited to look in on us; invited to share the struggles and triumphs; invited to spend a bit of time in conversation with us about the things that we are engaged in.  We're going to live this part of our lives, as we've done most of the last eight or so years, right here in public.  Reading what we come here to share will give a clear and unvarnished picture of our good days and bad days, our love and our struggle, our pain and our hope.  Those of our readers who sit comfortably with us as we flail and scrabble -- thank you.  Your calm and gentle presence is a balm to our weariness and fear.  Those who come and read and then go silently on, you are welcome here.  We will assume that your kind thoughts and good energies are holding us up as we work to heal.  And those who react with frustration, confusion, judgement, blame, anger... You will assume that you know what is and is not.  You will assume that you know what we're doing right and what we're doing wrong.  There's probably nothing that we will say that will convince you that you might not have it figured out... 

Tonight, I wanted to respond to the comments that were made on Master's post.  I am not going to defend or explain, but I want to try to cast things in a different light maybe: 

LynLass, you have been a good and steady companion to us for many, many years.  Along the way, you have often shared generously of your own experience and your professional expertise to try and guide us through thickets that might have snared us otherwise.  I well remember that you were a valuable resource to me in the days and months after my hysterectomy, helping me to understand the various factors that were contributing to my depression, and rage.  Thank you for that.  Too, I know that you are convinced that there is great value to the AA model for recovery from alcohol addiction.  We are locked into that model these days, and not by our own choice.  We are following the path defined by AA, but we are not finding it a good or helpful experience.  I do hope that we will, at least, make contact with a few good, sane people through AA, and perhaps those friendships will prove to be valuable going forward.  But I cannot imagine that AA is going to be a way of life for us once we don't HAVE TO do it anymore.  That is just the fact. 
Beyond that, your continued positive affirmation that there is a way through this, that health and healing are possible, that we may all find ourselves in a better place in time is more important to us than you can know.  I hope that you know that, while we may not implement all of the suggestions you make, we read what you write and give it real consideration.  Thank you.


morningstar, I think that I understand that your "what was the alternative" question is well meant, but it isn't helpful or germane.  What was done, back a year ago, was done.  As Master puts it, we were each "naive" in our own ways; we were each blind to the consequences we were bringing to bear; we were each and all wrapped in our misconceptions, our misunderstandings, our ego trips, our fears and frailties.  Looking back is about fixing blame, and I think we've finally found our way through the maze of blaming and bitterness.  More important, for us now, is the question of how we can change -- change ourselves and change our lives together so that all of us get more of what we want and need than we did before.  If we'd known more, known better, been better -- we might have made different choices and maybe avoided this crisis (maybe). 

And finally, Rhonda -- You judge that Master is a "selfish bastard."  I'd hazard a guess that there are very few BDSM Dominant types who wouldn't happily lay claim to the "bastard" label.  Most of them cultivate that quality -- and hone it to an art form.  Some of us find those "bastards" to be remarkably sexy and way more interesting than those "legitimate" and nice fellows that some prefer.  Different strokes for different folks... 
As for that selfish thing...  Our household; our family is dealing with addiction.  Addiction is selfish.  It moves always to maintain and sustain itself.  Addiction does not care about anyone or anything beyond the next fix, drink, or hot fudge sundae.  We believe that there is hope for us to recover from the effects of addiction and that is the work that we are doing right now.  Your observation simply highlights your inability to empathize with the struggle to overcome the impulses that drove Master to drink too much.  Perhaps that lack of empathy points to your superb impulse control.   Maybe you have never struggled to resist the urge to gamble, the urge to shop too much, the urge to overeat, the urge to spew nastiness across the cyber universe at total strangers who never did you any harm... 
 It is, in my opinion, easy to look casually at the story of our family over the last year and take sides -- easy to designate victims and victimizers, and think that tells the story.  It is also intellectually lazy.  We are a group of three complex humans.  We have long histories and unique personal stories to tell.  You, and all who read here, see bits and pieces, but cannot know the whole.  I'd think that, knowing that, one might be cautious about making judgements.

Master has declared the truth of how He feels about the potential for us to engage in M/s or D/s interactions at the present, and I think that is reflective of how He feels about what has happened to Him, but I also think it is grounded in how He perceives of power exchange within the BDSM context.  He is a spanko and a sadist.  For Him, almost all of the "real" practice of D/s or M/s is about the erotically charged realm of sadomasochism.  It is, literally, sex and violence.  When He does not feel sexy, He does not "feel  dominant." 

I experience it differently.  As Dominant and submissive, or Master and slave, we are really not "the same only different."  Even as He has gone into a quiet period regarding sadomasochistic play and "active" D/s or M/s, I still feel owned.  Absolutely.  The "fun" stuff has fallen off, but I am still operating to take care of Him, meet His needs, do the things that are part of my pattern of service.  I cannot help myself -- and He cannot help but expect those things to continue to  be done...  I still manage His medications, take care of the bills and finances, maintain the household files, keep things around here relatively neat and tidy, fix the meals, handle the laundry (with lots of help from T), maintain my career so that I may make a financial contribution to our household, keep myself readily available to meet His needs sexually, offer what I can of emotional support, act as His exercise buddy...  Somedays, I wish it weren't true, but there it is, and what is more, even when my inner brat is pouting and insisting that it isn't "fair," it remains immovably in place.  I can't change one jot of that routine -- and believe me, I've considered the possibilities. 

And here we are.  We've lost.  A lot.  We've recovered.  A bit.  We've got work ahead of us, and we're not always happy about what we're faced with.  We are taking the good with the bad.  Learning to live a new life with new rules and new goals.  It is all very new and still pretty fragile.  Watch carefully.  This should be a learning experience for us all.

swan

So, How's it Going?

You, Dear Reader, might wonder (if you wonder about us at all) how things might be going with "The Herons" in these early days since my unilateral declaration that I was resuming my place as His slave.  Is it really possible that it could be that simple -- just decide and it all snaps back into place?

The simple answer to that question is, as it turns out, not all that simple...

Yes.  For me, things are back in place, or perhaps more accurately, I feel as if I have snapped back into place.  Habits that were formed over years and years of service to Him, and anticipation of His wants, needs, and moods, and intense observation of His every response and reaction -- have all resurfaced.  My late snappishness and bitterness and hurt have mostly dissolved away.  I can feel myself quieting, waiting more gently, softening.  That feels good and right to me.

And no... the place I once occupied in His world is unalterably changed, so there is no real way to go back to that same place.  I think I will still have a place to be in His life.  I hope I do.  I just don't know, yet, what that place will be.

Lest my uncertainty be misunderstood, let me be clear... He and I are better, I think, than we have been.  It feels like there is healing happening -- real and tangible healing.  The anger and frustration that were the currency of our days for so many months are dissipating.  We are better... but not the same.  Not the same.

And so... I am back to the most basic of slave skills.  I wait.  As gently as I can manage.  Quiet -- or as quietly as I can manage.  I cannot claim to follow His lead if I insist that He lead at my speed and in the direction I would choose.  We will move along paths that He chooses at the pace that He sets.  I do not know where that path leads.  Knowing isn't part of my life anymore.

swan

Maybe It Depends on How You Look at It

In her comment to my last post,  morningstar said...

i will follow this (what shall I call it???) journey??? i don't know what to call it swan.. but i will be interested to see how it goes....
i have been trying to be submissive without a "leader" so to speak.... some days it is just damn frustrating.... 
i wish you luck  

I'm not at all sure if she meant that to say that I am "trying to be a slave without a Master," or if she was really only speaking to her own current situation.  I know I tend to do that in comments on a regular basis -- read someone's words about their life and their experience, and then speak to whatever that brings up for me about my own life and circumstances. 

 I know that the implication that I am somehow trying to do the submissive/slave side of the power dynamic without the accompanying Dominant/Master side caught me off guard.  I never wrote those words, and I'm surprised to find what I did say interpreted in that fashion.  So let me try to clarify --

What I discovered, Saturday morning, sitting in my therapist's office, was a truth about myself.  More accurately, I suppose, it was rediscovered... because I have known it for years.  I am, if it can be possible, happiest and most fulfilled when I live from the place of "slave" within my most intimate relationship.  It is what I wanted through nearly three decades of marriage, and it is what I chose when I came here to be with Tom some 9-1/2 years ago.  It is what I choose for myself today -- and for as long as I live.  For myself.

 The changes we've come through have rocked us to our foundations.  We've been lucky to survive.  We are, I hope, through the worst of it, but we are still in the early days of clearing the debris and laying the foundations for "new stuff" in our lives.  It is hard work -- exhausting both physically and emotionally.  We haven't yet come to a place where things are easy or simple or familiar.  Every move and every task and every undertaking seems daunting and oppressively complicated and difficult.  Every single success; every triumph; comes about because we've managed to successfully navigate the delicate business of working at it together with whatever tools, skills, and talents we can bring to the effort. 

I am not faced with trying to be "slave" in some vacuum where there is no dominant counterpart.  He is the One that I serve, and the only One that I want to serve.  He is learning His way into our new reality, even as I am, but He is still "Master" to me -- always and all ways.  That is far more about who and what I am than it is about Him.  I belong to Him; bound in heart and mind and body by threads that span our two lives with a strength that is more than steel.  The fact that, as I became fearful and hurt and angry and resentful, I pulled myself away from those anchor points does not change the truth of their existence.  It is only evidence of my own willful foolishness and blind panic.  

I needed to flail around in that place until I realized where I'd gone wrong.  I needed to correct my own course.  I needed to come back to my home and my center.  That has been my work and my healing in these months -- to come to understand that, and then to accept that it was within my power to choose to do it.  He couldn't "lead" me to this.  I would have battled with Him and fought Him -- just as a drowning swimmer may fight her rescuer.  Far better, I imagine, that He let me work through this on my own, and find my own way back to "us."  

I know that there is a common belief, in the lifestyle community, that it is the Dominant partner who leads, and the submissive partner who follows that lead.  That may, in fact, be precisely the model that prevails in many of our relationships most of the time, but I have come to believe that it isn't always so.  If the goal is to build strong and healthy relationships that endure and work for the partners, then the power flows between them in natural and organic ways, and the leadership can pass back and forth depending on what the circumstances demand.  Just as climbers might share the lead in ascending to the summit, so we move in and out of "leadership" roles in our relationship.  I have skills and knowledge and wisdom to share, and sometimes it makes sense for me to be the one to take the lead.  That doesn't mean I am less slave or that He is less "Master."  It only means that each of us offers the best we have to this life we are creating together.  

So, I will be "slave" as best I can.  I will work on the things that still bedevil me in that context -- my fears, and my tendency to extrapolate from bits of nothingness, and my quick leaps to judgement, and my jealousies, and my insecurities.  I will do the best to serve Him, to anticipate what He might need and want from me, to be where He needs me to be, and to cultivate the graceful, respectful, kind, and loving attitudes toward loving Him that were once my habit.  He'll give me whatever guidance and direction seem appropriate and necessary from His perspective, I'm sure.  We'll grow together into this -- even as we have over the years that have gone before.  I doubt that we will avoid all the frustrations and battles and pitfalls that may be lurking along the path.  I hope we manage to bypass some of them.  

Bad things could happen, but I am not looking for them.  Good things might happen just as easily, and I want that for us.  So that's where I'm going to put my energies.  I want more joy, more pleasure, more intimacy, more love, more sex, more S/M play, more laughter, more adventures, and more friendships.  I am the slave.  I may not be able to make all of that happen by myself, but I can bust my tail to do my share.

swan

Be the Change You Want to See

I started back today seeing the same therapist that I saw a few times back last winter/spring.  I was not happy about beginning that process again.  I am not one who appreciates the soul-baring vulnerability of therapy, and I deeply resent the time and the money and the emotional cost.  However, I finally found myself so tangled up in my own thoughts and fears and hurts and confusions that there was simply no good option.  I am lost and feeling alone, and I need someone from outside myself and our immediate family to listen to me fuss and whine and spin around -- and point me toward the exit.  I can't do it for myself anymore. 

She is J, and she is very good.  She is now, with my return to counseling, working with all of us in individual sessions.  If one were keeping an accounting of the "good things" and "benefits" to accrue from our struggles in this year, surely finding J would be on that list.  We've been lucky to have her wisdom and acceptance and simple affirmation of who we are individually and as a family.

When I worked with her back in the early months of all of this, I felt pretty solid and pretty secure and pretty centered.  She declared, in those days, that I was "the pillar" of our family.  I found that intimidating, but was also flattered and a little proud of my own sturdy strength.  Except that, as time has passed, I've started to wobble and tremble.  I'm not feeling so strong these days.  I am exhausted and weary and scared and desperate.  I veer from hopeful to hopeless and back again at a dizzying speed.  When I sat down in J's office this morning, it took only the simple inquiry as to how I was doing to send me into a flurry of tears and whimpers and a shaky-voiced litany of fears and woes that left me limp and trembling.

She listened to my random, stream-of-consciousness outpouring, and then proposed this version of my dilemma:

You are divided in your approach to the challenges in your relationship.  You could respond to any of the  situations that you are trying to deal with from your strong, powerful, capable, intelligent woman persona -- or you could respond from your slave persona.  It must be hard to figure out what to do with those two possibilities.  Which one do you want?

That stopped me in my tracks.  I could tell, inside myself, that what she said was true.  I know that strong, independent, capable, powerful woman.  She is the one who runs a busy classroom of growing pre-adolescents with a sure and steady hand.  She deftly handles the many unpredictable shifts of the school day, and never breaks a sweat.  She judges and evaluates and decides the course to take through a thousand minor (or maybe not so minor) tumults every single day.  Too, I know the slave who is quiet and calm and secure and soft and yielding.  She is the part of me that waited and waited and waited to be taken in and held close and given the gift of a place to safely lodge a heart that longs to submit.  In my mind, I rolled that question around and around -- if there were a choice to be made here, which would I choose?

Deep breath.  "Slave," I told her.  "If I could choose, I'd choose to respond from the slave mode."  And, saying it, I felt some bound up place inside of me release just a bit...

I've pulled myself back from that place through the last year.  I've chattered away in my mind, and been absolutely convinced that I just COULD NOT continue to live as His slave for a whole variety of reasons.  I've been stiff necked and stubborn and hellbent on having it be the way I think it should be.  The part of me that has "control issues" has put together a very convincing list of whys and wherefores -- all the justifications for pulling myself away from Him and the promises I once made.

This morning, in less than an hour, affirming my stated desire to live and respond from "slave mode," my oh-so-perceptive therapist turned me around; showed me what I wanted; and showed me how I'd been sabotaging that for myself and, possibly, for us.  I sat there breathing and knew that I couldn't do one thing about changing how He feels about me or us or the M/s dynamic we once enjoyed.  He won't be pushed or manipulated or coerced by me.  That doesn't work -- never has.  I can, however, resume the role that I once lived with grace and joy.  Whatever He might choose for Himself, my living as His can't hurt us (at least, I don't think it can).

I've wanted Him to fix things for us.  I've wanted Him to make me feel safe again.  I've fallen into the trap of believing that the only way for me to give Him my submission is for Him to "take" it from me.  I don't know what I've been thinking -- I know better than that.  I know how this works, and I know what my part is.  I need to walk the talk.  If I want our current intimate stalemate to be broken and our dynamic to be restored, I need to bend -- to "assume the position" of slave.

It may not be easy.  Probably, it will be very difficult in at least a few places.  I am afraid; terrified even; at the reality of His continuing anger with me.  I don't want to face that -- or deal with what it may mean, but I am ready to lay that down and trust Him to find a way through it for the two of us.  I have been fierce about my efforts to steer things, and it has been catastrophic.  I am not a good ship's captain.  I can't keep insisting that He see it my way, do it my way, make me happy.  I have to let this go; believe in the heart of who He and I are together; and take the risk of trusting once again.

And so, once again, I will be...

swan

Saving Ourselves -- Part 4

 Summer time is "project time" for me.  All of the big, complicated, high energy things that I don't tackle through the school year get put off until the long, uncommitted days of summer.  Give me a bit of unscheduled time, and I make stuff happen.  So far this summer, I've rearranged my kitchen, planted a fair garden of flowers, vegetables, and herbs, replaced bulbs and cleaned the ceiling florescent in the kitchen, reinstalled all of the smoke detectors, undertaken to revamp our meal planning and eating routines, reworked and tidied up the family records filing system, and created a significant new set of curriculum materials for my social studies classes for next year.  Of course, I've been actively engaged in helping Master through these first four weeks of post-surgical recovery -- lots of help with dressing and undressing.  Too, He and I have been investing about an hour and a half each day in our power walking exercise routine.  The big, gnawing at my brain, making me crazy, summer project though, has been the garage.  My garage is the primary storage space for our family, and over the years, I've struggled to keep it neat and make it work efficiently in that role while simultaneously providing the intended shelter for an automobile.

When we first moved in here, some eight years ago, the "then" husband installed a hodgepodge of shelves all over the place.  Some were wide and some were narrow.  Some were up high, and others were so short as to cause one to wonder what the hell he was thinking.  Over the years, I've tried a number of approaches to the garage storage dilemma, but I've never just ripped out the whole mess and started fresh.  I'm not sure why, but it all just seemed too daunting.  Last summer, I created a serious "Rube Goldberg" style shelving arrangement that involved stacking a number of trunks and plastic storage bins up, and using them to support the wooden shelving boards I'd gathered from all over the place.  The bins and trunks would, I reasoned, do double duty that way -- acting as both storage and supports.  It looked great and it functioned pretty well ... just as long as you never needed to get anything out of one of those bins at the very bottom of the whole jumble.  And, of course, because the universe operates on the principle that, "left to themselves, things follow the path of maximum perversity," everything I have ever needed from the garage in this last year has ALWAYS been at the bottom of the stack.  

So, for obvious reasons, my summer project list included a major overhaul of the garage.  Which brings me to the point of today's conversation about ways to help strengthen and repair a damaged relationship (other parts of this series are found at posts about Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3):

• Share challenging experiences… 
• Develop a sense of humor…

The redesign of the garage storage space may not seem to you to be particularly challenging, and it probably doesn't appear, at first glance, to be the occasion for any significant humor.  But, my friends, that is only because you underestimate the ways in which the universe likes to fuck with some of us.  Me, in particular.

I had, at the very beginning of the summer, shared my thinking about the garage situation with Master, and I told Him that I intended to tear out everything that had been put up by "He Who Shall Remain Nameless," and put in something straightforward, simple, and functional.  I wanted maximum storage with minimum mess and hassle.  He accompanied me on several scouting trips to explore the possibilities, and we saw some awesome and amazing storage systems -- at prices that took my breath away.  I became convinced that there had to be a way to install workable storage at some reasonable cost.  In fact, I got very caught up in that idea of "inexpensive" storage.  That was the beginning of the "challenging experience" that He and I would ultimately share together around this project.  It also turned out to be the driving force behind the cosmic joke that played out at my expense.

I searched and researched for weeks, and I finally decided that the best approach to the garage of my dreams was a simple system of wall mounted uprights and brackets with plain dimensioned lumber boards for the shelves.    I measured, and calculated, and headed off to the local big box hardware store to acquire the needed hardware.  I found some very inexpensive standards and brackets and bought up what I needed, dragged them all home and worked through a wickedly hot couple of days to get the old stuff taken down and the new ones installed.  It looked great, and I was awfully proud of myself:  forteen feet of 20" deep shelves, running three high all down one side of my garage.

Last night, I loaded them up, and called it a job well done.  We stayed up late watching a movie, went off to bed about midnight, slept fairly late this morning, got up and had breakfast, and then got ready to go out and walk.  When I walked out of the front door and down the sidewalk, I could see, through the window into the garage, that all of my wonderful shelves had collapsed -- and dumped all of the stuff all over my new little car!

I would like to tell you that I took it all in stride and laughed at the joke -- but that would be a lie.  I was furious!  Panicky about my pretty, new car, under all of those boards and brackets and boxes of stuff!  I must admit that I said bad words.  I did. And, He and I walked our 4-1/4 miles with me fuming and fussing the whole way.  Yeah!  Develop a sense of humor my ass!

The good news?  We walked at the fastest pace we've achieved since the surgery.  Rage is a great energizer.  We got home and He helped me excavate the car and haul all of the stuff out to the front lawn -- WITH His one good arm.  And...  underneath it all, unmarked and in fine shape, the little car survived just fine.  OK.  So, then I was able to laugh at the absurdity of it all; laugh at myself for going so cheap that the project didn't serve its purpose;  wander off, with Him in tow, to buy better brackets and better supports (and a new rug for the living room -- HIS idea not mine).  I got everything torn down, and reinstalled, and all the stuff  moved back to the new shelves in just over two hours.  And it looks good, and sturdy, and functional.

Lesson(s) learned.

swan

Saving Ourselves -- Part 3

This is the 3rd part of a series of discussions about ways to recreate relationships (especially BDSM relationships) after surviving a major "bump in the road."  For the first two segments, look here and here.

Continuing with thinking about the work of Mark Gregston, today I want to discuss the idea of "Looking for opportunities for discussion" with your partner.


We are quick, in the lifestyle, to exhort each other to "talk" with our partners.  We pride ourselves on being more open, more honest, more transparent.  We learn skills that help us to negotiate; to state our needs; to define our limits.  We make checklists and contracts and mantras.  Oh yes... we are big on talking, and we create relationships that are awash in words.


So, what would be different if we looked for opportunities for discussion?

Discussion is more than talking.  It is inquiry and examination.  While talk is about conveying information, discussion goes further, looking to explore, examine and discover things that might not be contained on the surface of our words.  The word comes from Latin, and the stem, discussio, means "a shaking."  Literally, to discuss is to "strike asunder," or "break up," from dis- "apart" + quatere "to shake." While the usual meaning of the word is to "talk over" or "debate," the early sense seems to have evolved from "smash apart," "scatter," and "disperse."  So, when we discuss, we break things down; we shake up our assumptions; we smash through our biases and preconceived ideas.  We inquire and examine.  We talk things over, and we debate.

I am reminded of the ancient and traditional practices of divination -- "throwing the bones" (and comparable techniques). In bone divination, bones of various sorts (and sometimes, other small objects like shells, seeds, and nuts) are ritually tossed onto a mat, an animal hide, or into a circle drawn in the dirt.  The resulting patterns are interpreted to provide information and guidance about travel and love and fortune.  It seems to me that discussion, as opposed to more casual conversation, might be the path for us to divine the deeper mysteries and fortunes of our relationships.

In discussion, we'd ask questions of our partners, and keep digging -- searching with them for answers and ideas that might be beyond what we anticipate and expect:

What is important to you?

Why do you feel that way about _____________________________?

Where did you learn about?

What would you do about this problem or that challenge?

Where would you go?

Explain that to me... 

Our discussions, whatever the subject matter, might well be the pathway into journeys of the mind.  Together with our partners, we could find ourselves amazed at the places we might go together.

swan
 

Saving Ourselves -- Part 1

I feel like we've been through it in this last year or so, and I feel as if we've learned somethings in the process.  Maybe some of what we've discovered, and some of what we are discovering, can help someone else someday.

Because -- one thing that we found, in the midst of our own crisis, was that there was little or no information out here in cyberspace about what to do.  Looking around, making Internet searches, one finds that the best wisdom in our "village" is that, when our non-traditional types of relationships hit rocky places, there are only two choices:  put up with whatever IS, however bad it might get -- or quit and walk away.

Partly, that awful dichotomy is derived from the fact of our alternative lifestyles.   It is nearly impossible, when we hit relationship snags, to find the kinds of resources that vanilla couples can call upon -- good kink friendly therapists, marriage counselors, financial advisors, lawyers, medical professionals, and clergy are few and far between and difficult to find.  Too often, we find that those who might help us if we were more "normal," simply decide that whatever our problem is -- the biggest problem we have is related to our lifestyle.  Not much help there.

We were lucky to have a remarkable group of good people who rallied to us right here at this blog, and held us up.  Many of those people wrote thoughtful and kind comments here, and many of them wrote to us privately, offering care and support and sometimes advice and guidance.  It is true that some, who had long been part of our circle, dropped out of sight as things grew ugly.  They clearly opted out of the whole scene; perhaps deciding that we were inherently "bad" people, or maybe just feeling unequal to the task of cheering us through the mess in which we found ourselves.  I believe that some number of those who have fallen silent simply do not know what they can offer -- that the larger question for us all is this:  "How do we really help, and what can we really offer of any substance, to those in our community who encounter relationship trouble?"


With that set of assumptions in mind, I am starting, with this post, a series of pieces that will (I hope) lay out some practical tips and strategies for repairing , reinventing, and rebuilding our relationships when we find ourselves on the calmer side of a major struggle.  I know that, sometimes, things end dramatically, definitively, and decisively.  In that event, there is likely no repairing or rebuilding or reinventing to be done.  But I am very aware that we came perilously close to losing everything just because we didn't know what else we might do after we'd washed up on the beach of relational shipwreck.  Our inherent stubbornness saved us.  Perhaps, as we wander our way through this part of our lives, we can leave some markers along the trail we're following -- and maybe someday, that will signpost the way for others who might walk in our footsteps.  We're not experts, and we've not got any sort of professional credentials, so take it for what it is worth.  What you will read, in this series, like everything else that you read at this blog, is just our story -- plain and simple.


I plan to base the things I'll write about all of this around a set of principles taken from the work of Mark Gregston.  His real expertise is in the area of relationships between parents and teenagers, so the focus is not the same -- but then almost no one focuses on OUR kind of relationships.  Gregston offers a set of ten tips for repairing and rebuilding relationships, and I think they work for us, too:

• Spend time together, one on one…
• Share challenging experiences…
• Look for opportunities for discussion…
• Listen more and answer less…
• Develop a sense of humor…
• Play together….
• Remember the past and believe in the future…
• Establish boundaries…
• Practice selfless confrontation…
• Correct and discipline, even when it makes you uncomfortable…

We are, ourselves, in the midst of learning our way along through this.  Some of those things, we've gotten well into and are feeling pretty comfortable with.  Others?  Not so much.  So, I will pick my way along through those "tips," speaking to them in no particular order, starting with playing together...

Experts recognize that, from earliest infancy, play is the primary way children learn.  Children play because it is fun. The heart of play is pleasure, and with pleasure comes the powerful incentive to repeat the activity. With repetition comes mastery. And mastery brings a sense of accomplishment and confidence.

Children engage in different types and stages of play depending on their personal development and their indivudual needs.  Their play may be solitary, parallel, associative, or cooperative, varying in terms of the levels of interaction, complexity, and organization.  

Through play children learn about concepts, how to group and classify objects, how to make sense of things and events, and how to solve problems. Play requires a child to make choices, direct activities, and make plans to reach a goal.  It is through play that children gain social and emotional skills such as waiting,
negotiating, taking turns, cooperation, compromise, sharing and expressing emotions.

We are not children, but we are finding that one of the most productive ways for us to interact these days is from a playful stance.  We have, largely, put most forms of BDSM play on hold for now.  Mostly, that is because of His surgical recovery, and has nothing to do with our relationship struggles.  To be sure, there is some tension and uncertainty between us about how we will ultimately come to engage in that kind of play, but we have grown increasingly easy with each other about other kinds of teasing and lighthearted banter.  We touch -- tickle, scratch, swat each other playfully.  We joke and giggle together, and it delights us both.  Sometimes, we just sit and watch the antics of the cat, and enjoy the lightness of it all.

It is good.  We had, over time, come to live in a world that was dreadful and dire and dark.  Everything had gotten serious for us.  There was very little that was fun or joyful, and how sad is that?  We'd gotten to be very grown up, I guess -- so grown up that we were nearly dead from the weight of all that seriousness.  And, in the final analysis, none of our grown up intensity could save us from the rush of our self-made calamity.

So, that's the first tip:  Play.  Laugh.  Enjoy.  Stop being so damned serious.  Yes, there are responsibilities and obligations and duties and all of that, but when all of life becomes a long list of "should's" and "must's" and "ought to's" it leaves no room for spontaneity and joy and lightness.  "All work and no play," the nursery rhyme admonishes us, "makes Jack a dull boy."  We've found a bit of sparkle left in our days and nights -- and we are not missing all that drab and dull grownup business.

swan

M/s and the Dangers of Ego

Every normal person, in fact, is only normal on the average. His ego approximates to that of the psychotic in some part or other and to a greater or lesser extent. ~Sigmund Freud~

Morningstar reminded me of a piece that has floated around the BDSM-oriented parts of the Internet for years and years.  Written by a fellow who goes by the name of Jonathan Kay, the 128 Basic Slave Rules would be laughable except that I imagine they are taken seriously by a fair number of people as they try to figure out how to live this lifestyle and actualize their own inner drives and erotic needs.  To be fair, Kay doesn't prescribe his rules for anyone, nor does he suggest that anyone try to follow all 128 rules.  Still, I'd think a person would be hard pressed to find a dozen that don't presume that the Master will be viewed as "god-like" by the slave who devolves to object through the training the rules suggest.  I'm really not interested in pointing out all the "Oh, please!  You have got to be kidding" elements of the 128 rules.  I am, instead, thinking about the risks (for both partners) inherent in the perspective represented there, and yes, I DO think I have a bit of hard earned wisdom to share.

The "rules" are meant to teach women who would identify as slaves to define themselves and learn their place and role within a BDSM Master/slave relationship.  If one assumes that partners, entering into something as intense as an M/s relationship, are mature, self-aware, competent, loving, responsible, sane, intelligent people (and I understand that may be a bit of a stretch) -- then it is reasonable to believe that they have a lot to offer to each other and to the relationship between them.  Ideally, they know one another well, and have spent time learning about things outside of the sexual and erotic realms encompassed by scenes within the context of BDSM.  Both partners would, presumably, take the time to evaluate the strengths, weaknesses, character, temperament, reliability, integrity, and trustworthiness of their opposite number. 

That, of course, would be what happens in a perfect world -- but we humans are notorious for our ability to walk right into a potentially "perfect" situation and turn it into a spectacularly fucked up mess.  Driven to some large degree by ego, we do the dumbest things.  We do.  One of the ways WE do that, inside of an intense power exchange relationship, is to make the mistake of forgetting that the players are human.  One may be given the capacity to decide and direct while the other takes on the obligation to accept, honor, and obey.  The humanity remains.  That agreed upon power imbalance does not, and should not, deify one and objectify the other.

The slave WANTS to be controlled; WANTS to feel owned; WANTS to experience the ecstatic state of total surrender; WANTS to live in continual and unceasing awe of her Master; WANTS to be recognized for the depth and breadth of slavish accomplishment.  It is ego.  Even as an otherwise and formerly strong, independent, capable, intelligent, sensible, wise woman gives up her freedom, loses her voice, ignores her best instincts and intuitions, and denies her capacity to think and perceive and judge -- it is her ego that is driving the apparent descent into nothingness.  A whole list of "shoulds" inform every decision, and she slowly (or maybe quickly) abandons all the skills, abilities, and talents that made her a good and valuable partner in the first place.  Incorporating all of those rules, or some other set of foolish rules, is dangerous precisely because it deprives the relationship of her fully functioning participation.  Bit by bit, and piece by piece, she stops contributing to the success of the shared relational endeavor and becomes a dead weight that must be carried along just like some kind of interesting piece of luggage.  Should the partnership encounter difficulties and challenges (and what relationship doesn't), she is, at best, handicapped in her ability to respond.  I know because I made those mistakes and fell into those traps.  I let my ego and my own wants seduce me into acquiescing to decisions and demands that nearly destroyed us all.  When it came down to it, for us, I had nearly lost the capacity to offer any sort of counter argument even as it became more and more clear that He was wounded, lost, frightened, and in need of something more than my poor efforts at some sort of idealized slavery.

On the other side of the power equation is the Master.  The Master/slave interaction is a duality.  It really does take two to dance this tango.  Whatever the inclination, in the absence of a Master, slavery is only an elaborate imagining.  In just the same way, the one who claims to be Master without one who would choose to serve, is a naked Emperor at the head of a parade that exists only in his own mind.  One who would assume the control of another person, who moves to own the choices and options and the very life of that person, steps out into territory where very few have the courage to venture.  For most of us, the act of making choices and decisions for our own lives is quite enough of a high wire act.  Taking on that responsibility for another is an enormous undertaking.  Within the context of the BDSM Master/slave dynamic, that choice is most often made within an elaborate social construct that requires the assertion of ultimate power, complete control, unwavering certainty, unshakable self-confidence, and a sort of god-like perfection that cannot ever sit easy on the shoulders of a fallible human.  It takes gigantic ego to even begin such a journey.  That is the fact, and there is nothing wrong with that.  Whatever great and grand things humans have accomplished throughout our long history, it is a good bet that somewhere in the mix is a powerful and healthy ego driving everything forward.  Without that sort of engine, nothing much gets done anywhere -- ever.  But even the strongest, most sure, most controlling and confident men have their weak places; their secret fears; questions for which they do not have the answers; private demons.  To whom do they look for clarification, the sometimes necessary gut check, the moderating second opinion?  If a Master makes a mistake, who can He trust to tell Him that He's gone down the wrong road?If Master insists that His way is ALWAYS the right way; if His every decision comes with the presumption that questions and challenges are unacceptable; then who will offer the sometimes necessary counter argument - or just a straightforward "no," when things go off the tracks?

I have never lived with a list of "rules."  I've never been asked to maintain formal protocols or rituals.  I speak as plainly with Him as I do with anyone else.  I sit on furniture, eat from plates, and wear the same kinds of clothes as any other woman of my age.  Those 128 rules have never been more than an interesting oddity from my perspective.  Still I lived with all of those unwritten and unspoken "shoulds:"
I should be quieter
I should be more trusting
I should be more respectful
I should be more graceful
I should be more obedient
I should be less angry
I should be less jealous
I should be more focused
I should work harder


On and on and on.  Not rules but expectations created by us but also impressed upon us and upon me by the social milieu of our Internet blogging pecking order.  Today marks the date when, nine years ago, I got in my car, turned my back on the life I'd had, and headed east to begin this life.  I can look back at good times and bad times; at hopes and dreams turned into life lived in love; at fears and sorrows and faults and failings -- and I know there have been mistakes and miscues along the way.  It hasn't been all one thing or the other.  Life never is.  I am glad I came.  I am glad I'm here.  I'm glad for what we have, and for who we've come to be.  I wish we'd managed to avoid some of the pain and heartbreak and struggle, but I wouldn't trade the good days and nights for the chance to do that. 

In the end, I guess I've rambled on and on to get to the point of saying that I believe that, even when the dynamic runs on a non-traditional power exchange, partners owe each other the best they have to give.  When we create rules and structures that prevent the full giving of the gifts of the Master or the slave, we hamstring them both in the service of their relationship.  Life is too tough and too unpredictable to tackle it with our hands tied.  In the view of this one, old lady, no one should ever agree to do that.

swan

Mating Dance

He and I have seen our BDSM relationship change over the years.  We've both noted that the heat that was so characteristic of our early years together has cooled as we've passed from crisis to crisis and challenge to challenge.  Surely, there were major changes following my hysterectomy, but just as surely, the various health hurdles He's had to face have taken their toll.  Over time, I have been less and less willing -- less and less able (I'm not really sure which it is to tell the truth) to engage in the same level of high end sadomasochistic play as we once enjoyed as a regular thing.  More and more, as I felt hurt and abused rather than turned on and thrilled by our play, He responded, lovingly, by scaling back, going easy, acting more in the role of service top.  The fires of His sadistic urges were banked and burned lower and lower.

Then we put ourselves through the role reversal of disciplinary switching, and things seemed to skid to a complete and total halt.  His interest levels fell to nothing.  Through these last weeks, He's been glad to snuggle, He's been very verbally affirming and loving.  He's been happy to make love, and I suspect that we engage with one another sexually on a much more regular basis than many people who are nowhere near our ages.  He just has not felt particularly Dominant, and has been relatively disinterested in spanking. 

The really ironic thing about that circumstance has been that I have just begun to experience a sexual renaissance.  My libido has risen, phoenix-like, from the ashes, and while I have no explanation for that, I am thrilled.  The new incarnation of my sexual self seems (to me) to be almost entirely wrapped up in sadomasochism, and I find that regular vanilla sex, while pleasant enough, holds very little potential to excite me.  For me, in these days, sex and SM play are equivalents -- one and the same. NOW I've got longings.  NOW I've got imaginings.  NOW I've got fantasies galore.  Figures. 

And that is where things have stood.  I've felt sad about it.  I've figured it was my doing.  I have heard my mother's mean and nasty voice in my mind -- "You made your bed, now lie in it!"  I've told myself that aging is an unavoidable reality, and there is nothing to be done about it. 

Then, today, things shifted suddenly.  Today, He's been after me, in hot pursuit, wanting to take me where we haven't gone together in years and years.  Not service toppy, but full on sadistic Dominance.  He's suddenly come roaring up out of whatever slough of despond had Him mired down, and the whole world seems different.  NOW my longings, my fantasies, and my imaginings are matched by His wants, fantasies, and desires.  We are locked in a mating dance.

I am nervous.
He thinks that is cute.
I am filled with doubts and performance anxiety.
He finds that exciting.
I want with a breathlessness that seems more like 15 than 55 years.
He wants with an intensity that belies His years. 


We are locked in a mating dance.

We need time.  We need opportunity.  We need hours to be with one another.  That will come.  We are locked in a mating dance.

swan

Collaborative Evolving Power Exchange

Some readers may have noticed a verbal shift in that long and convoluted conversation between He and I the other day -- our long custom of exchanging affirmations of our power exchange relationship was modified by Him:

Raheretic: I love you

Swan: Yours always and all ways

Swan: bye for now

Raheretic: Mine Always and All Ways

Raheretic: Too..............Yours Always and All Ways

Raheretic: I/we need both

Swan: well then ... Mine always and all ways

Swan: bye, Love

 

That was intentional on His part, meant to point to what He perceives to be our new and evolving reality.  As He has come to feel more switchy, His sense of our relationship has shifted.  He has increasingly indicated that what we are about is more collaborative and less definitively tilted toward anything that might reasonably be called M/s or maybe even D/s. 

Things have changed.  Things do change.  We are, clearly, not the same people we were 2 years ago, or 5  years ago, or 10 years ago.  Not as young and not as intensely dedicated to the sort of BDSM interactions we once enjoyed.  We've experienced real changes in our health status -- mostly for the better, although there is no denying the fact of ongoing aging.  We've seen significant changes in our career paths and our incomes.  We've withdrawn completely from the public scene -- finding it simultaneously dull and almost incomprehensible; not to mention ridiculously expensive.  We never imagined the road we'd travel in this last decade.  If we had, we might have chickened out before we ever started.

We've shifted the control back and forth between us, over the years, depending on what the circumstances dictated.  Most often, that has been driven by health issues, and I have sometimes been the controlling, and guiding partner as He has needed to focus on surgeries and illness and recovery.  There is no doubt that I am capable of assuming control when the situation warrants it.  

Now, it seems that He does not feel any need to be THE ONE IN CONTROL.  It seems that He is comfortable with our sharing that; switching not just in terms of erotic spanking, but in the much broader context of our day to day power dynamic.  I am made uneasy by that baldly stated truth -- even as I must acknowledge the fact.

I don't know what it means.  Perhaps it really doesn't signify any big change.  Perhaps it is simply the statement of the reality that has evolved between us.  Perhaps it is the natural landing point of the trajectory that we've been following from the moment when, out walking together, we accepted (with a sense of trepidation and wonderment) the desciptor of Master/slave for our relationship.  In that moment, we adopted language that we'd resisted previously, and made it "ours."  We've lived that in the years since, and found it made some sense for the two of us.  Now, there is a new understanding -- a new reality and awareness.  

We still play with the power dynamic in our relationship.  We are aware of it and deliberate in our manipulation of the power flows and energies.  Those who do not understand the use of power inside of intimate relationships are unable to use those energies to their mutual benefit.  That is not us.  Now, though, we seem to meet more as collaborators and partners in that balancing.  Truthfully, maybe we've always collaborated in that, but been more content to have the balance be more radically tilted.  Perhaps it is the fact that I've moved more toward the fulcrum point of the balance, and He has allowed and accommodated that -- until now we stand, face to face across from one another, and right in the center.  

There is no exotic descriptor for what we are engaged in -- no fancy uppercase/lowercase delineators.  We will likely, eventually, stop using the Master/slave lexicon altogether.  The provocative scintilla that came with all of that business will just slip off and away and we will gradually become more apparently "normal" and "mainstream" than we have appeared previously.

It makes me a little sad.  It scares me a little.  There is something easy and sure about being able to sum up the nature of your intimate life in such simple terms.  This new collaborative, evolving, power exchange dynamic seems much less defined and way more nebulous.  I don't know what it is and I have no clear sense of who or how I am inside of this.  It is disconcerting and unsettling.  I have no good experience or working model to draw upon for plain, old, garden variety relatedness based on some sort of equality.  The only time I ever tried that, it turned out to be a total disaster.  Sigh.  

I am full of questions.  What is expected?  What will this mean for us sexually?  Will we still play?  What about the collar I wear?  Should I -- or should I not?  Still?  Will He still be "Sir?"  "Master?"  Will I still be "swan?"  "His?"  What are the lines, the limits, the agreements?  I feel like I am living in a new and uncharted place where I do not know the rules.  And then, I tell myself that it is all silliness -- we are doing this already.  There is no tidal wave of change happening here.  The changes have come incrementally over the years and months leading to this point.  All I need to do is just go on doing it day to day and it will be whatever it is going to be.  There is no going back, even if I would wish it.  

I just don't know.  I just do not know.

swan