I don’t think there will ever be a time where I’ll stop growing and evolving. Where I will reach the limit of my growth and can say ‘well, I’m definitely into all of these things and kinks, there’s nothing else’.
Though that’s sometimes frustrating, especially when someone asks ‘well, what do you identify as?’ And I have to stumble on my words to say I’m a mix of things, it’s also a thing of beauty. Because there will always be something brand new to discover.
For example, there’s a huge part of me that identifies with the 19th century gentleman and this unspoken undercurrent of Dominance and submission. Jane Eyre, apart from being a terrific read in general, was deeply erotic for me.
And I identify with this gentleman because a big part that I’m drawn to is regulation. Polite wording like ‘Pardon me’ instead of ‘huh?’, standing up straight – etiquette like that – it speaks to me.
And there’s so many different nuances to something like that. Chin up, beck straight, hands to the side, hands behind your back, ask for permission to go out with your girlfriends, all these different things that branch off to different concepts and regulations and ways in which the relationship can evolve or adapt.
But then aside from this strict gentleman, or the 1950’s household hybrid of that gentleman, there are the other aspects of my personality that I’ve discovered along the way, the Daddy and the Master.
The Daddy aspect has always been with me, I think, since my early twenties. And as I got older and more at ease with myself, it has been more prominent and refined. I’m sure if I co wrote a blog with my lady, she could vouch for times it comes out – say, if she’s snacking before dinner and I tell her not to, she can hear it in my voice. Or if she’s ill but staying up late. Of if I want to read to her or be by her side when she colours.
Recently, I’ve felt a different side bubble to the surface that bears similar traits to a Master. This crosses over with the 19th century gentleman, as the concept of setting rules and regulations in a M/s environment with many different concepts also at play intrigues me. But it’s also not quite the dynamic that fits my current relationship, as my kitten and I sit somewhere between the M/s and Daddy / LG concepts.
It’s weird to explain because the mind shifts at any given moment and borrows traits from established roles. So it’s a mix.
And as such, I think I will always be finding out new things about my mind. Maybe I’ll change. Maybe this relationship will change. The How’s and the Why’s can be pondered all night, and this thought is lengthy enough.
Bottom line is that I’m always growing and learning and finding new ways to live and play and explore and that’s beautiful.
How about you, stranger? Are you a mix?
Sometimes someone will write in and be unsure about addressing me. And I’ve gotten it a few times now to warrant me writing me up this little note for you.The thing is – within reason, you can call me what is comfortable for you. Obviously I leave the most intimate gestures for myself and kitten – I would feel uncomfortable otherwise.
Generally speaking, my name is fine. Or, if you feel I have earned your respects, you can call me Sir. Sir I will allow because I liken it to an old fashioned greeting, a sign of respect from one person to another. The same thing as walking down a street and saying good day to the only other person sharing that same street with you.
Really though, there’s no secret way to talk to me. I’m just a regular guy. I’m flawed, human, like eating cake in my underwear at 2am. So just be casual with me, is what I’m saying. Be yourself, because I’d be a fool if I got upset at you for addressing me incorrectly – how would you know?
At the end of the day, we’re all human so don’t stress or give it too much thought!
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a cake to devour.
Friday night my kitten and I snuggled into bed and read Dr. Seuss’ Fox in Socks – and boy what a read!
The book is wonderfully inventive, with colourful imaginative beasts, ferocious tongue twister to test even the tongue twisting master and a pest of a character – Mr. Fox himself!
As a Daddy reading to his little one, this was quite fun to speak out loud, as there’s rhythm to the tongue twisting dialogue that gradually escalates as Mr. Knox is more and more displeased with Mr. Fox.
It all builds to a rather entertaining conclusion in which Mr. Knox goes at the challenge of the tongue twister, bellowing out a ripper!
I personally enjoyed the escalation in the climax and with the humour of Seuss, it all plays out rather effectively in illustration.
As a quick bedtime read, you can’t go past this – and I highly recommend it for its dialogue and humour!
Sometimes, just sometimes, I feel like being a bigger brother to people out there. I see people run with others on Fetlife and something in me stirs. Something in me wants to protect and embrace and be that bigger brother and I can’t shake it or explain it and I am not sure if I even want to question it.
It comes down to family. Who do you get along with, who wants that part of you in their friendship. It’s a complex series of equations that come down to one thing – friendship and how deep that friendship goes.
And it comes down to being a protector of a little one, or submissive.
And it comes down to bond. The bond that you might share.
Ultimately, that means getting out into the community and given my anxiety, I just don’t know about that. But I do you can’t just force it and that’s not what I ever want to do. So for now, it rests in the back of my mind as a delicious ‘maybe’ or a wonderful ‘possibly’.
But what is a ‘bigger brother’? In my eyes, a friend. A close friend. Someone that you can spill your heart too and who happens to mail. It’s a deep bond, playful but platonic. I can’t speak for the interpretations of others and I can’t speak to the relationship to others but for me, sometimes, I think about being part of a little group and that’s nice.
And that even fluctuates for me anyway. I’m the type of person to go from feeling like a sociable human to being a wolf that’s in a pack of two – him and his submissive. And on those days, nothing is finer than the company of my kitty – or, if we are sticking to the analogy, wolf cub. She fulfils me. End of story.
I guess it comes down to this: wanting to protect people. Maybe that’s ego, maybe that’s madness, who knows. But sometimes I get feeling like I should be a bigger brother to some, which is quite different to switching to Daddy for my kitten. How the mind alternates! Are you following alright? Yes? No? Maybe? I don’t know.
I don’t know if I will have all the answers but I do know that I just want to take care of people.
Do you ever just look at someone, maybe in your Facebook list of friends, maybe overheard in a restaurant, maybe even a family member, and think that you feel something within them that you felt as you began your journey?
Sometimes I sense that.
If homosexual (and hetero) people alike have this thing called Gaydar (admittedly useful and something I feel too) that goes off once in a while, can we assume that such a thing exists as BDSM Radar?
Terrible name, I know. It’s not catchy, it just falls off the tongue, stumbling much like my adolescent self did trying to impress a lady. But I feel that such a thing exists.
And it’s not that I spend my plaza shopping staring at a lady, drooling and thinking “Yes, she likes this concept”, it comes through an encounter, body language, dialogue – it’s almost supernatural.
Men I have a tougher time reading. You’d think that’d be pretty simple. Maybe they hide it better? Maybe they aren’t as in tune with their emotions as some lades are? Who knows? Not me.
You’d think you could sense a Dominant personality and sometimes I can.
To be honest I haven’t flexed my muscles regarding reading men. So I am out of practice.
On the other hand, I sometimes get a sensation when around certain ladies. And within interacting with them, I can feel something. The biggest thing I recognise is a baby girl presence. Maybe it’s the Daddy in me, maybe it’s as simple as the fact that I’ve done a lot of research, talked to a lot of people in my time of learning. But I always get this thought that lingers.
I usually boil it down to me being silly, or a pervert. That’s the ol’ catholic guilt happening.
I mean, I’m not fantasising about the women I have a sense on, I just get this sense within myself, like the weird need to help and/or nurture in a friendly chat.
But then, maybe that isn’t BDSM Radar. Maybe that’s just me, wanting to help in any way I can. I mean, if being Daddy is part of my persona, then it stands to reason that helping people is in my biological make up.
In any case, sometimes I get a sense of what may be hiding behind someone’s eyes. Am I wrong? There’s always room for error with a thing like this. Hell, I could be mistaken. But whatever the feeling I get, it’s strong and fills me with an urge to comfort.