“It feels like a relief to be able to own and control.” Sinclair Sexsmith for Autostraddle.
Excerpts from Sinclair Sexsmith’s article, “Giving Orders”
That master part is still a challenge for me. I want it to be easy. I want to say that it’s easy, that it comes naturally to me. But it doesn’t. I work at it every day. Don’t get me wrong, it isn’t work in the way that I’m forcing something; it’s work in the way that I work to write every day, even though writing is the portal to understanding my lived experience and the world that exists at my core. So many things counterweigh the impulse to be a master, to be a dominant, to be in charge: my early conditioning, the four-year-old in me who was told over and over to stop being so bossy; the eight-year-old who chose friends who would do what I said, but would talk about me behind my back; the fourteen-year-old who couldn’t keep friends because they were sick of my controlling efforts. There’s the trauma of past power dynamic relationships that went horribly awry, the dynamic going sour like milk, the taste one I can never quite get out of the back of my throat, coming up like bile when I even suspect that I’m too much, too big, too wanting. And then there’s my depression, the ways my body is naturally inclined to down-regulation, and the slump of defeat that comes with a depressed emotional state: no interest in sex, no energy, no hope, no vision of why any of it would be fun. I have to actively work against these things every time I give an order.
Mastery doesn’t come naturally to me, but it also feels like the truest thing about me. It feels like a relief to be able to own and control. It feels too good to be true, like the reality is even better than the fantasy. How did I deserve this? How do I get to do this? I have never been so fulfilled. I didn’t know that this was what I’ve been searching for this whole time. A part in me I’d locked away became alive, and now I get to flex and train it rather than try to ignore it.
“You are so sexy, my sweet boy. I love your body. I want you.”
I whisper in his ear, bending over against his back. When I stand, I start unbuckling my belt, my jeans. He can hear that sound, and it makes him shiver. I watch his spine ripple. He has never let me hold that risk alone, he has always caught it with soft open hands. He reminds me, over and over, that he will always catch me, he will receive what I give him, he will give what I ask. That we are in this together.
Read the full article here at Autostraddle.
This post is part of the larger series, View From The Top, authored by Sinclair Sexsmith.
Original post published on 16th August 2016.
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