This isn't about community politics, this is about how sometimes people can try to find themselves and forget what it is exactly that they were looking for.
I've always known I was kinky. And when I say always, I mean from the first sexual fantasy. I've never had a fantasy that wasn't some version of the “rape” or “master/slave” fantasy. I just didn't. And, for the record I was pretty sheltered, and not abused. (Just in case someone wants to pull out the: “oh you poor wilting flower; what have the mean old men done to you?” card. ;) )
Like many people who have this deep intrinsic need to be owned, controlled, taken, dominate", fill in the blank with whatever word appeals to you here, I searched on the internet for others like me.
And of course I came upon the BDSM and D/s community because it seemed an obvious fit. But there were all these collars and contracts and safewords and jargon etc. etc. and props and costumes and blah blah blah. It was just a lot of fantasy to prop up a reality that just wasn't there.
24/7 D/s seemed more my speed—because at least it was a way of being, rather than a game. But on some level even that was pretend—for me. Not that dominance and submission are games—they most certainly aren't for the people that live them. But that wasn't my “kink” for lack of a better term.
I had and have the “control kink.” I wanted to be really controlled, owned, blah blah blah. Not just pretend. But within D/s it's understood that in reality the submissive person has all the power and negotiates everything and often there are safewords and contracts, etc. (I'm not saying there is anything wrong with these things, they just aren't what I wanted.)
We started out with a safeword, but it was because I didn't want my husband to feel like an abuser, not because I had some real need or desire for one. Of course he just said: “You are property and property doesn't need a safeword.” (Please understand this was not abusive to me. This was him really “getting me” more than I thought he did.)
Of course, we weren't playing. From very early on, good behavior/obedience brought reward and bad behavior/disobedience brought punishment. Period. For a long time I worried that I wasn't doing things right, and that I was being abused—not because I actually felt abused, but because empirically, from a textbook definition, I was.
After all, what we were doing was not D/s. I later found a better label—“master/slave”—but even within that community there are extremists who want to redefine every word in history. As an example, some cannot be happy with just leaving the definition of slave as: “someone who is owned and fully controlled by another.” No, they have to get into all kinds of weird specifics that were never true even in a historical context.
Like people who say that you aren't really owned if you leave. Well if I leave, no, I'm not really owned anymore. It doesn't mean I never was.
There is so much competition within the “kink community” to be “more submissive” While I am submissive and want to please my husband and master, I'm not always submissive. Someone in this type of relationship doesn't always obey.
Because the need is a need to be controlled.
But what I'm really trying to say here is... I wasted so much time, lobbying for more extremeness in sexual encounters, not because that was what I actually wanted or needed, but because I wanted to make it more “real.” And I wanted him to know that he could be as extreme as he wanted and it wouldn't freak me out. It took me forever, despite being told and shown over and over that it was true, to really fully internalize that what I have is real.
Even though that was what I wanted, and it was what I was getting, rules and games within the kink community helped to obscure for me the reality of what was going on. In some ways it was more of a hindrance than a help. All the labels and jargon and rules and regulations of communities that have nothing to do with my personal relationship, just all stood in the way.
So it was a completely surreal moment when I realized “Hey, my needs have nothing to do with most of their needs.” I started keeping a journal because for some reason I didn't think my husband was being consistently dominant. I know...what the frilly heck does that mean? If you are the boss, you are the boss, whether you forcefully exert it every second or not. It was only through journaling and monitoring that I came to understand that:
A. What I had was real. As in he really is really the boss of me. We aren't just pretending he is. When we use titles we mean them. He owns me. It really can't get much more simple than that.
B. It was exactly what I wanted and needed—and everything else that I ever tried to lobby for or thought I wanted, was only a way to believe in an ownership that already existed.