In light of some positive writing feedback, vivid dreams, and questions from a friend, my head has been inundated with the thoughts, and the missing of sadomasochism in my life.
A wise man once told me that you should never allow your D/s relationships to die under the pressure of vanilla life. Apparently I am too stubborn to listen to wisdom. In all fairness, it takes two to tango, and I am not the only one to blame for the diminishing desire, but I certainly didn't have to go along with that plan.
In the twenty plus years I have been involved in the dark seedy world of kink (that was a joke folks), I have had times when the lifestyle came dead last on the priority list. Not because I opted to place it there, but because other perceived essentials ranked higher. However, we seem to neglect things that make us different before we neglect things that we as a society deem normal.
When we allow society to dictate what should be important to us, we short change ourselves. We pretend to believe that our needs and desires for anything else should not over shadow our 'normal' life's expectation. And this holds true for all things different, not just kink. If its been oppressed or put in a taboo box, it should end up at the end of the nurturing list. And until today, I might have agreed with that.
Yesterday I wrote about hair pulling. It flowed out of my fingertips like lava. It came freely and intensely hot. It was written in about 2 minutes (or as long as it takes me to type that many words). I had to put zero thought into that post.
The day before I had a friend seek intimate advice from my dominant viewpoint. Again, no thought necessary. The answers came quickly and easily. I enjoyed the conversation, the memories and the offering of my experience. In fact, I was a tad bit envious that it wasn't me.
Last night I dreamed of woman standing, restrained and beautifully marked. I remember thinking how beautiful she looked. Not because she was pretty, because I could not even see her face. But because she was so eager and hungry and marked with the most delicious signs that only a masochist is willing to wear. Her sounds made me sad. Sad I was not sharing in the moment.
In a very mundane moment yesterday, I remembered my wife, my submissive, and a moment we shared together long ago. It wasn't about pain or play or sex, it was a simple moment of trust. A trust that is capable of giving me butterflies when I think about it. I suddenly felt a huge appreciation for who she was and what she gave me. I wondered if she would do that today. I reached my hand out and rested it on her back. She, having no idea where I was in thought, most likely thought nothing of it. I was hoping she would 'feel' me.
I know life has changed for me. But only because I have allowed it to. And perhaps my days of hard core heavy play is behind me. I am not getting any younger or any stronger, but its never really been about that for me. Its been about allowing who I am, at my core, to surface and be received. Its about not taking pieces and keeping them stuffed out of view because it doesn't fit in with the rest of the 'list'.
A wise man also once told me that I should listen to myself. I think this time, I will allow myself to hear the wisdom.
it's still part of our lives, even though we've had to put it on the back burner. beyond playing, it's who we are and how we live. the potential for play is still there, i feel the triggers all the time. lately we've come to the conclusion that whatever reason we used to back away from playing, it was time to resume...
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