I’ve been sitting here thinking a lot about my relationship to mentoring. Primarily because I haven’t been actively doing it lately. No real reason, it’s just something that has been inactive of late.
There are many reasons why I like to mentor – working closely with people, in areas I struggled with, is a passion of mine, while sharing resources and experiencing growth, both in myself as a teacher of sorts and in the individual on their own path, is a pure joy. Absolutely lovely.
Lending an ear to a problem or merely just talking through the thought process is always rewarding to me. I appreciate given the chance to help and try to do so where I can, which can go either way.
I do my best to be respectful and not intrusive. I like to think of it as having me on a call. If there’s a question to be asked, a nightmare to puzzle over, I’m just a call away.
Being a mentor comes with misconceptions, some of which I’ve already discussed. The main one is that its a sexual relationship, which it is not. While mentoring may raise questions of a sexual nature, it’s purely platonic.
What exactly a mentor does is also a thing Ive been asked a lot. And that depends on the individual and what they seek. The main thing to consider is this: A mentor is a friend. A friend experienced in the ways of D/s and BDSM, mind you, but a friend none the less.
This friend may help be a life coach, provide you with resources and answer and their own time. This friend could be someone you’d text while sipping on a coffee in a cafe, while you tell them about your dreams. It’s entirely up to the individual and how much they want to share.
I don’t know why I’m compelled to mentor. I don’t know why it drives me to write a personal email, or to offer help where I can. But if I’m going to make peace with myself, to keep the peace with myself, I should start to accept my own mind, no matter how eccentric it may seem.
When I find out the answer, I’ll let you know.