One of the reasons I have this blog is that there's so little on the internet from a dominant man's point of view, and I think it's worth reminding the world that we're people. ;P
In that vein, I wrote an email to pet tonight that as I reread it, I thought, this may be a useful thing to put on my blog.
So while it's a little context-less - seeing as I'm not going to post pet's email - here are some thoughts of mine.
~~~
"I like it that you inform me when you smoke or drink etc. It's not necessary, but the fact that you do it makes me feel like you value our relationship and where it's headed. Just like the way you email me when you go to bed or you keep my kitchen clean makes me feel very valued and appreciated and loved.
The hair thing is interesting for me. Because I am actually a nice person, I don't generally enjoy doing things that others don't like. But it's also this thing for me - shaving a slave's head is something I have always wanted to do, something that has been a part of my mind ever since I was a little kid. And so while a huge part of me is like "no, I don't want to make you dislike yourself, I don't want you to fear not passing, etc", learning to embrace the inner Master (so to speak) means going, actually, it doesn't matter. I want to, you will submit to it, and it's very meaningful for me. That's the end of it.
It might sound strange to a submissive person, but tops need to do a lot of inner embracing too. The desire to control another completely isn't exactly a healthy desire on its own (just like wanting to give up control to another isn't healthy on its own) and if you're a moral person it takes a lot to work around that. Sometimes it doesn't matter if the consent is there, because a part of you is screaming "no, that's horrible, don't do that".
It's sort of comforting to me that the head shaving is a limit right now. Because I'm still getting used to what little control I already have. And that's good, I feel, it means I'm not taking it for granted. Every day is another step closer towards the end goal, but it's also another day to explore what I can do *now*. And not just what I can do in terms of what you've consented to, but what I can do in terms of where my head is at. For example, I'm still quiet in the living room when you're sleeping in it. That may or may not change. I'm still learning where my own feelings are on that sort of thing.
For me, I know this is right, it's going well, because the future excites me. Things that I couldn't do now, because I'm "nice", because I haven't got my head around them yet - are things that I know one day I will be able to do. And that's a very liberating thought. That I can let that part of me out and express it, one day in the future, is a very hopeful and fun thing and I'm very much looking forward to it.
There was this post on K&P on fetlife today/yesterday about '100 ways to make someone feel enslaved' and while a lot of them were total bollocks, some of them were actually kind of working for me. But the weird thing is that it wasn't about you. You're a very present person and you live in the present and that's GREAT because that's something I enjoy in a person, and in a submissive, and frankly I'm not worried about you forgetting that you're submissive anytime soon. But some of the little tips made me go "hmm, that might help ME feel more dominant, rather than making you feel submissive", and that's an interesting way to come at it. I think maybe I need to think about that a bit, because I think that's where a lot of my roadblocks come from. Like, the more terrible bdsm movies I watch and books I read the more dominant I feel, simply because I am being reminded that this is my life. Because sometimes life is just life, you know? It's easy to forget it's special.
Anyway, I'm rambling a bit now, consider this something of a private blog post in return, heh.
Hope you sleep well pet <3 I love you very much.
--Sir"
The everyday life of a Leather Sir, chronicling his journey in D/s Leather relationships and lifestyle.
Showing posts with label respect. Show all posts
Showing posts with label respect. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
An Email
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Friday, July 6, 2012
Intergenerational Friendships
I just posted this to Fetlife and I thought it should go here too.
~~~
This has been on my mind a lot over the last couple of years, and I've started expressing it here and there to a few people, but I thought I'd try and write out my thoughts a little more.
I'm in my mid/late twenties. I'm definitely an adult, in all ways, but I am still young.
My friends? Their ages range from 15 to 70. And I love that. That's important to me.
Why?
Because often people in different generations don't want to listen to each other. Everyone sticks their fingers in their ears and thinks other generations are stupid in some way - older people think 'young people don't listen and don't know anything', younger people think 'old people are out of touch and don't know anything'.
They're all wrong of course. Older people have experience and knowledge that only comes with time. Young people have fresh, new hope and ideas.
I am dedicated to maintaining my intergenerational friendships. I want to know those who come before and after me. I want to learn and I want to teach - and not just learn from my elders and teach my youngers (although certainly that is a huge part of it), but the other way as well.
I am extremely aware of the gaps in my own knowledge of my cultural history. As a trans person, as a queer man, as a Leather man... what do I know of my history? I know a lot more than most people my age about my cultural history, but it's still not enough.
I don't want to lose people. I don't want to lose history. I want to know what it was like for people like me twenty years ago, fifty years ago, a hundred years ago. I want to know my history. I want to be able to share my history with those who come after me.
Unfortunately there are huge gaps for more reasons than just a lack of intergenerational friendships, but that's stuff I want to know too. I remember sitting and listening to people talk about what it was like at the height of the AIDS crisis, to attend funeral after funeral, week after week. I don't want to be shielded from those hard truths. I want to know them. I want to appreciate them. I want to be aware of everything those before me have gone through.
I want to know my history. I want to know your history. I want to remember everything me and people like me go through.
And I want to remind you that things change. I want to help you know that even though it seems like 'kids these days' don't care, they do. They may care in a different way, but they still care. We are redefining so much, the same way you did. We are your heirs in more ways than one - we are like you.
Maybe that's why we frustrate each other, though. Maybe our elders see themselves in us young people, and maybe us young people see people we may become in our elders - and in both directions, maybe it scares us a little bit.
But it shouldn't - it should be a good thing. This is what community is, what it could be.
I don't want to be in a bubble of my own generation. I want to know those who come before and after me. I want to be a part of a history and be aware of that fact, I don't want to pretend that everyone before me is useless and everyone after me is stupid.
Intergenerational friendships are vital to me, because they show me that I am a part of something. They help me acknowledge the cyclical nature of cultures and histories. They help me learn more about my cultural past. They help me look forward to my cultural future.
~~~
This has been on my mind a lot over the last couple of years, and I've started expressing it here and there to a few people, but I thought I'd try and write out my thoughts a little more.
I'm in my mid/late twenties. I'm definitely an adult, in all ways, but I am still young.
My friends? Their ages range from 15 to 70. And I love that. That's important to me.
Why?
Because often people in different generations don't want to listen to each other. Everyone sticks their fingers in their ears and thinks other generations are stupid in some way - older people think 'young people don't listen and don't know anything', younger people think 'old people are out of touch and don't know anything'.
They're all wrong of course. Older people have experience and knowledge that only comes with time. Young people have fresh, new hope and ideas.
I am dedicated to maintaining my intergenerational friendships. I want to know those who come before and after me. I want to learn and I want to teach - and not just learn from my elders and teach my youngers (although certainly that is a huge part of it), but the other way as well.
I am extremely aware of the gaps in my own knowledge of my cultural history. As a trans person, as a queer man, as a Leather man... what do I know of my history? I know a lot more than most people my age about my cultural history, but it's still not enough.
I don't want to lose people. I don't want to lose history. I want to know what it was like for people like me twenty years ago, fifty years ago, a hundred years ago. I want to know my history. I want to be able to share my history with those who come after me.
Unfortunately there are huge gaps for more reasons than just a lack of intergenerational friendships, but that's stuff I want to know too. I remember sitting and listening to people talk about what it was like at the height of the AIDS crisis, to attend funeral after funeral, week after week. I don't want to be shielded from those hard truths. I want to know them. I want to appreciate them. I want to be aware of everything those before me have gone through.
I want to know my history. I want to know your history. I want to remember everything me and people like me go through.
And I want to remind you that things change. I want to help you know that even though it seems like 'kids these days' don't care, they do. They may care in a different way, but they still care. We are redefining so much, the same way you did. We are your heirs in more ways than one - we are like you.
Maybe that's why we frustrate each other, though. Maybe our elders see themselves in us young people, and maybe us young people see people we may become in our elders - and in both directions, maybe it scares us a little bit.
But it shouldn't - it should be a good thing. This is what community is, what it could be.
I don't want to be in a bubble of my own generation. I want to know those who come before and after me. I want to be a part of a history and be aware of that fact, I don't want to pretend that everyone before me is useless and everyone after me is stupid.
Intergenerational friendships are vital to me, because they show me that I am a part of something. They help me acknowledge the cyclical nature of cultures and histories. They help me learn more about my cultural past. They help me look forward to my cultural future.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
The Next Stage
So serina and I had our three month re-evaluation and re-negotiation today.
We obviously get along well, our personalities and lifestyles mesh, she gets along well with my boy, we have common interests and we have common long term goals. So it's good. So it's time to take away the "under consideration" safety harness and start thinking and doing.
The first thing that was apparent as we discussed things is that she has learnt a lot in the last three months. She was much more able to dictate her needs and desires and limits this time than she was three months ago, which is excellent. She was better able to grasp what makes her feel useful and happy now than she was three months ago.
This process is showing me that I am doing absolutely the right thing by going so slowly with her. Several times in the last three months she has expressed a sudden realization that she was getting in deeper than she was expecting when she signed up. Not in a bad way, just in a realizing it for real sort of way. For example, things I have thought about but held off on doing because I did not want to overstep my bounds, regardless of what she said was okay, she has come back to today and has stated are at least soft, temporary limits. So that's excellent - not only is she realizing the reality of what she has sought, but she still wants it, and is willing to move carefully and deliberately with me towards it.
So anyway, yeah, that's good. We have begun another period together, which I am, for lack of better phrasing, calling the first training period. For the next six months, we'll be starting the very slow, very careful process of training her to eventually become my slave.
I'll spare you the boring details of everything we discussed.
One thing that is clear to me is that the coming six months is going to be a lot harder for me than for her. For her, not much has changed. We have affirmed some things, cleared some boundaries, but generally speaking I suspect that everything that is coming are things she wants and will respond well to receiving.
For me? I'm feeling a little cautious.
Because for me, I am a very friendly and lenient person. I have exceptionally high personal standards, but I don't expect people to live up to them. As we tighten our relationship, my standards and expectations for serina are going to get higher and higher.
This worries me because I am going to need to find the balance between "lenient, gentle, kind" and "challenge, stern, strict". Which I'm sure I can do, but it's going to be very hard for me. It's going to be hard to learn that I am allowed to begin holding her to higher standards. It's going to be hard to allow myself to expect more from her.
I don't know if I can articulate this very well. But the next six months is going to be a great challenge for me. One that I am looking forward to, but a challenge nonetheless.
Right now I am thinking back to the formal Leather dinner about a year ago. I told boy going in that I had high expectations of him, and he was afraid. But he did so well, and he made me so proud. Perhaps I am doing a disservice by not having higher standards. Perhaps it would be okay for me to extend my expectations.
I think the truth of the matter is that most people want to prove that they have what it takes, whatever 'it' may be. Most people want to be set challenges and not just defeat them, but move beyond them. Perhaps my leniency is not the blessing it first appears.
Instead, perhaps I should put myself in their shoes. I know, for myself, when I am set a challenge, when I am set an impossible task, it just makes me all the more determined to do it. High standards make me nervous, sure, but I also enjoy rising to the challenge. And I'm sure other people are like this too. Everyone wants to know that they earn the praise they are given. Everyone wants to feel that they have done their best and those closest to them are proud.
The next six months will be a challenge, finding the balance. But that's my own challenge, and one that I am determined to rise to accept and defeat. And if I can expect that of myself, wouldn't it only be fair to expect serina to do the same? Despite power exchanges, me and those I am in relationships with are equals. It's only fair to treat them as such, to give them the same credit and faith that I have in myself.
...
... the next six months sure is gonna be hard, though. Heh.
We obviously get along well, our personalities and lifestyles mesh, she gets along well with my boy, we have common interests and we have common long term goals. So it's good. So it's time to take away the "under consideration" safety harness and start thinking and doing.
The first thing that was apparent as we discussed things is that she has learnt a lot in the last three months. She was much more able to dictate her needs and desires and limits this time than she was three months ago, which is excellent. She was better able to grasp what makes her feel useful and happy now than she was three months ago.
This process is showing me that I am doing absolutely the right thing by going so slowly with her. Several times in the last three months she has expressed a sudden realization that she was getting in deeper than she was expecting when she signed up. Not in a bad way, just in a realizing it for real sort of way. For example, things I have thought about but held off on doing because I did not want to overstep my bounds, regardless of what she said was okay, she has come back to today and has stated are at least soft, temporary limits. So that's excellent - not only is she realizing the reality of what she has sought, but she still wants it, and is willing to move carefully and deliberately with me towards it.
So anyway, yeah, that's good. We have begun another period together, which I am, for lack of better phrasing, calling the first training period. For the next six months, we'll be starting the very slow, very careful process of training her to eventually become my slave.
I'll spare you the boring details of everything we discussed.
One thing that is clear to me is that the coming six months is going to be a lot harder for me than for her. For her, not much has changed. We have affirmed some things, cleared some boundaries, but generally speaking I suspect that everything that is coming are things she wants and will respond well to receiving.
For me? I'm feeling a little cautious.
Because for me, I am a very friendly and lenient person. I have exceptionally high personal standards, but I don't expect people to live up to them. As we tighten our relationship, my standards and expectations for serina are going to get higher and higher.
This worries me because I am going to need to find the balance between "lenient, gentle, kind" and "challenge, stern, strict". Which I'm sure I can do, but it's going to be very hard for me. It's going to be hard to learn that I am allowed to begin holding her to higher standards. It's going to be hard to allow myself to expect more from her.
I don't know if I can articulate this very well. But the next six months is going to be a great challenge for me. One that I am looking forward to, but a challenge nonetheless.
Right now I am thinking back to the formal Leather dinner about a year ago. I told boy going in that I had high expectations of him, and he was afraid. But he did so well, and he made me so proud. Perhaps I am doing a disservice by not having higher standards. Perhaps it would be okay for me to extend my expectations.
I think the truth of the matter is that most people want to prove that they have what it takes, whatever 'it' may be. Most people want to be set challenges and not just defeat them, but move beyond them. Perhaps my leniency is not the blessing it first appears.
Instead, perhaps I should put myself in their shoes. I know, for myself, when I am set a challenge, when I am set an impossible task, it just makes me all the more determined to do it. High standards make me nervous, sure, but I also enjoy rising to the challenge. And I'm sure other people are like this too. Everyone wants to know that they earn the praise they are given. Everyone wants to feel that they have done their best and those closest to them are proud.
The next six months will be a challenge, finding the balance. But that's my own challenge, and one that I am determined to rise to accept and defeat. And if I can expect that of myself, wouldn't it only be fair to expect serina to do the same? Despite power exchanges, me and those I am in relationships with are equals. It's only fair to treat them as such, to give them the same credit and faith that I have in myself.
...
... the next six months sure is gonna be hard, though. Heh.
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Thursday, June 7, 2012
Remembering, Becoming
I've been feeling a little down tonight, a little fragile.
Then a few minutes ago I started thinking about Sensei.
I miss him so much. He was so important to me.
But I'm also thinking about him because he was so good at what he did, who he was. He had this way to make you believe in yourself when you didn't a moment before. He had this way to make you face your mistakes and deal with them without feeling weak or like a failure.
I wish, every day, I could be more like him.
But the only way for that to happen is for me to be true to myself, be true to what I was taught, and to practise.
I'm having a moment of weakness tonight. Feeling like I can't cope, like I will never be who or what I want. Feeling like a failure.
Then I remember.
I remember his smile as he said, "you're ready when I say you're ready".
I remember quietly, sadly saying I cannot do something, and he simply replies, "yes you can". I remember how I believed him, and how, with that belief behind me, I always succeeded.
I remember his pride in me.
I remember the tattoo on my back, my everyday reminder of who I am and where I come from and the man who helped me get here from there.
I remember the final words of dojo kun, words that have always, always stayed with me. Words I would repeat after Sensei twice a day, with every ounce of my being behind them. Words that have shaped every moment of my life.
Never give up.
And then, I feel strong again. Fragile still, yes. Sad still, yes. But strong.
Then a few minutes ago I started thinking about Sensei.
I miss him so much. He was so important to me.
But I'm also thinking about him because he was so good at what he did, who he was. He had this way to make you believe in yourself when you didn't a moment before. He had this way to make you face your mistakes and deal with them without feeling weak or like a failure.
I wish, every day, I could be more like him.
But the only way for that to happen is for me to be true to myself, be true to what I was taught, and to practise.
I'm having a moment of weakness tonight. Feeling like I can't cope, like I will never be who or what I want. Feeling like a failure.
Then I remember.
I remember his smile as he said, "you're ready when I say you're ready".
I remember quietly, sadly saying I cannot do something, and he simply replies, "yes you can". I remember how I believed him, and how, with that belief behind me, I always succeeded.
I remember his pride in me.
I remember the tattoo on my back, my everyday reminder of who I am and where I come from and the man who helped me get here from there.
I remember the final words of dojo kun, words that have always, always stayed with me. Words I would repeat after Sensei twice a day, with every ounce of my being behind them. Words that have shaped every moment of my life.
Never give up.
And then, I feel strong again. Fragile still, yes. Sad still, yes. But strong.
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Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Reflection on Responsibility towards Community
So, this girl who has approached me (I should give her a nickname for this blog, but I'm too tired of think one right now - next post maybe) has been back reading this blog, which I think is a great idea. It's also inspired me to do my own back reading of my blog.
It's been... illuminating.
What's interesting to me isn't so much anything about myself that's changed, but rather the things that haven't changed at all. That I am still, essentially, the same person I was when I started this blog. That's interesting to me.
When I came to this entry on responsibility, I had a lot of feelings come up.
I wrote that almost exactly two years ago.
In the last two years I have become more well known in my local scene and on the internet, I've gained more respect. More and more people ask for my thoughts, my opinions, my advice, my time, my effort.
I am still always, always cautious of the responsibility that comes with that. Reading that entry was a lovely reminder of - as I said above - something about me that hasn't changed.
But the more I grow and the more faith people put in me, the more responsibility I gain. It becomes more and more important that I carefully consider my words and my actions. It becomes more and more important that I do my damn best to be kind and compassionate and helpful. It becomes more and more important that I make sure I am worthy of their trust.
I do my best. I always will.
It's been... illuminating.
What's interesting to me isn't so much anything about myself that's changed, but rather the things that haven't changed at all. That I am still, essentially, the same person I was when I started this blog. That's interesting to me.
When I came to this entry on responsibility, I had a lot of feelings come up.
I wrote that almost exactly two years ago.
In the last two years I have become more well known in my local scene and on the internet, I've gained more respect. More and more people ask for my thoughts, my opinions, my advice, my time, my effort.
I am still always, always cautious of the responsibility that comes with that. Reading that entry was a lovely reminder of - as I said above - something about me that hasn't changed.
But the more I grow and the more faith people put in me, the more responsibility I gain. It becomes more and more important that I carefully consider my words and my actions. It becomes more and more important that I do my damn best to be kind and compassionate and helpful. It becomes more and more important that I make sure I am worthy of their trust.
I do my best. I always will.
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Tuesday, December 27, 2011
On Earning Leather
I had the realization recently, as I discussed things with my boy over dinner one night, that I'm not sure I will ever buy myself more leather.
Of the leather I own, I own boots and I own a vest. That is all. I do not even own a belt, because I wear rope as a belt - because rope is precious to me and I like to have it on hand at all times. I wear the rope knotted on my left side, so it also functions as a flag.
My vest is incredibly important to me. I wrote about my vest when I bought it.
My vest is a promise, to myself, that I will always strive to be better. My vest is my way of constantly checking that I am on the path I want to be on.
Every time I pull on my vest, I ask myself: am I working towards being the person I want to be? Am I working to be compassionate, generous, kind? Am I working to be thoughtful, courageous, a man of integrity?
If the answer is yes, I wear my vest with pride.
If the answer is no, I take my vest off and it stays off until the answer is yes.
So my vest has incredible meaning for me.
The discussion of chaps came up, and boy expressed a desire to see me in a pair of chaps - and I admitted, somewhat surprised at myself, that I don't think I will be buying myself any more leather.
Earning leather is a tricky thing. On one hand, I think it's a beautiful and incredibly meaningful tradition among Leather people. On the other hand, I can think of many reasons why someone may prefer to buy their own leather rather than earning it - hell, as I said, I bought my own vest, and that doesn't leave it with any less meaning. And of course there will be plenty of Leather people who don't feel their leather needs to have a purpose at all, and buy it just for the look, the smell, the sex appeal.
But for me?
For me, I don't think I'd be comfortable buying any more leather. Perhaps it's a product of my years as a martial artist - but I don't seek to raise my own level, as it were. To me that feels empty.
And for me, I do not have a mentor. Nor do I really have a Leather family - I have my boy and at present it's just the two of us. So there is no one to grant me leather, as it were. Perhaps one day I will be enough a part of the community that it could come from there, but I am not certain that will ever eventuate.
These two facts combine, and it leads to this: I doubt I will ever own any further leather than I already own.
What surprised me is that I'm actually 100% comfortable with this.
I have no desire to be some kind of God of Leather. If I have the respect of my boy and my peers, that is enough for me. If I feel safe and comfortable in the leather I own, that is enough for me.
My journey as a Leather Sir does not rely on me 'levelling up'. It relies on me simply being true to myself.
Of the leather I own, I own boots and I own a vest. That is all. I do not even own a belt, because I wear rope as a belt - because rope is precious to me and I like to have it on hand at all times. I wear the rope knotted on my left side, so it also functions as a flag.
My vest is incredibly important to me. I wrote about my vest when I bought it.
My vest is a promise, to myself, that I will always strive to be better. My vest is my way of constantly checking that I am on the path I want to be on.
Every time I pull on my vest, I ask myself: am I working towards being the person I want to be? Am I working to be compassionate, generous, kind? Am I working to be thoughtful, courageous, a man of integrity?
If the answer is yes, I wear my vest with pride.
If the answer is no, I take my vest off and it stays off until the answer is yes.
So my vest has incredible meaning for me.
The discussion of chaps came up, and boy expressed a desire to see me in a pair of chaps - and I admitted, somewhat surprised at myself, that I don't think I will be buying myself any more leather.
Earning leather is a tricky thing. On one hand, I think it's a beautiful and incredibly meaningful tradition among Leather people. On the other hand, I can think of many reasons why someone may prefer to buy their own leather rather than earning it - hell, as I said, I bought my own vest, and that doesn't leave it with any less meaning. And of course there will be plenty of Leather people who don't feel their leather needs to have a purpose at all, and buy it just for the look, the smell, the sex appeal.
But for me?
For me, I don't think I'd be comfortable buying any more leather. Perhaps it's a product of my years as a martial artist - but I don't seek to raise my own level, as it were. To me that feels empty.
And for me, I do not have a mentor. Nor do I really have a Leather family - I have my boy and at present it's just the two of us. So there is no one to grant me leather, as it were. Perhaps one day I will be enough a part of the community that it could come from there, but I am not certain that will ever eventuate.
These two facts combine, and it leads to this: I doubt I will ever own any further leather than I already own.
What surprised me is that I'm actually 100% comfortable with this.
I have no desire to be some kind of God of Leather. If I have the respect of my boy and my peers, that is enough for me. If I feel safe and comfortable in the leather I own, that is enough for me.
My journey as a Leather Sir does not rely on me 'levelling up'. It relies on me simply being true to myself.
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Tuesday, July 19, 2011
High Protocol Leather Dinner
So the HP dinner happened a couple of days ago now, and only just now am I able to begin blogging about it, as I've been quite literally on my back doped up with painkillers since I got home from it. Apparently spending nearly 12 hours in "on" mode isn't so good for people with chronic illnesses, who knew? :P
I volunteered to help in the kitchen so I arrived in the morning. I spent the next four hours peeling and chopping vegetables which I imagine sounds very boring but honestly it was the best job I could have had. I got to be helpful and free up time for others to do more important activities without straining myself in any way. I enjoy chopping and peeling vegetables, as I find it very meditative, so I don't even feel like I was working that hard. It was a pleasure to be useful before the actual dinner, and it helped calm my nerves about it all - after all, I was helping, I was present, and I was focussed. What was there to be nervous about in such a state?
My boy came with me and did general dogsbody work through the day and evening - he helped out wherever he was required. Duties that he was involved in that day were so many - helping with the spit, helping with the potatoes, valet duties, drinks service, and probably more things behind the scenes that I did not see.
I had put the pressure on my boy a little before this event - I wanted him to make me proud. And that he did. By being flexible and ready to help wherever he was needed in whatever way was needed, he made himself available for service in a way that truly, truly did me proud. I am so honoured to be Daddy to such a dedicated and caring boy, who will put his hand up for whatever is needed.
At three, which was when the dominants were to be arriving (though many arrived early), I went and got dressed. Last year my boy organized for all my friends to put money in to get me a specially tailored suit, and we finally picked it up this past week. I combined that with the tailored shirt that I got with it, and my leather vest. I must have looked fabulous, everyone complimented me - though I wonder what it says about me that people sounded so surprised that I looked so good ;)
It was the perfect debut for my suit; as many of the people involved with the dinner had put in money for it, and it was such a special occasion for me. I felt proud and humbled at the same time by it all.
I went out the back so I could enter through the front door - my theory was that all the other dominants got to come through the front door, so I wanted to as well :) In the living room we dominants gathered and chatted and it was lovely. Drinks and nibbles were served by two wonderful submissives.
I was very quiet - not just at this point but through the whole night. It wasn't shyness for once; it was that I was genuinely enjoying just listening. People had wonderful stories and thoughts to share, and as I said at one point - I enjoy hearing about people's lives. I am only 25 and haven't had a life yet. :) It was then commented, "but look at how you're starting!", and I have to agree. To be present at such an event was glorious, and especially wonderful for me as the youngest person at the table.
When the time came, we were introduced to our servers for the evening - two servers to three dominants. I was served by the wonderful Taya and Ben, who were both charming and I felt very cared for by them.
We were then seated at the table and it felt like the night truly began. We talked and joked and shared stories and it was wonderful. The food was amazing, cooked by the wonderful Ms Lyn, and it was just sensational. The service was beautiful, despite the visible nerves all the submissives worked cleanly and quickly and I was never left wanting for anything. Maid Michelle made sure our drinks continued to flow with dedication.
As our meal finished, all the submissives gathered in the dining room and a cake was brought out and placed in front of Bella.
I don't know how comfortable people involved would be for me to describe what came next in detail, so I will refrain. However, I still want to express my feelings.
To watch Bella receive her Master's cover from such a respected and experienced person, surrounded by her Leather family and community, was such an honour, I can't even express it properly with only words. I teared up as I watched, rapt with joy. As I hugged her after I managed to choke out some words - "Thank you, for being you. I look up to you so much."
It's so true and so much bigger than those words could convey - but choked up with emotion it's often hard to get across meaning like that. Bella is such a role model for me, she is so kind, gentle and extremely skilled, and her dedication to Leather, service and kindness is beyond amazing. Should I be half the person she is as I grow, I will be a great person.
To share in such an event with her was such an honour, such a pleasure. To be present was, as its word implies, a gift.
After the ceremony we all shared in the cake and some more concrete gifts - as the dinner was "Christmas in July" themed, we had a kris kringle. Just to truly top off the night for me, my kris kringle gift was a beautiful clear paddle made by maid Michelle. This was such good luck for me for so many reasons - I have been wanting a paddle for some time, but unable to afford one. I also admire Michelle's work so much, but again, cash is rather tight at the moment, so being able to own a piece of Michelle's work makes me incredibly happy.
Not long after the kris kringle, sadly I had to leave as my body was starting to hurt in a very bad way and the tiredness that I'd been keeping at bay for a few hours crept up on me all at once. Boy drove me home and from there we went straight to bed, where I stayed until this morning, essentially.
I have so many feelings about the high protocol dinner - it was so wonderful, such a bright spot in my life, and something I already know I will look back on as I grow and always smile about.
One particular pleasure for me was being the youngest person at the table - by at least ten years, I believe. It was such an honour to be in the company of my elders and to listen to their thoughts and stories. Thank you all for being so amazing and being so kind.
The kindness of Leather folk is perhaps my favourite thing about them. I believe in kindness; I believe that it's a powerful thing and it's something I strive to be as much as I can (without hurting myself of course). Kindness is what bridges gaps between us all, regardless of age, gender, race, orientation, or anything else. The kindness that filled the gaps between us all at the dinner was palpable and beautiful.
Thank you to all those at the table, for your kindness and conversation and joy.
Thank you to all those who served, for your kindness and dedication and care.
(And thank you to the pup who sat in the corner, giving us all warmth and laughter... such a contribution can't be denied either, and was certainly a wonderful addition to the dinner.)
Thank you to the host, for your kindness and generosity.
Thank you to Bella, for everything you have done for the community and everything you are, and for letting us all be a part of such a special moment for you.
Thank you, Leather community, for allowing me such an experience so early in my life, one that I will treasure for the rest of it.
I volunteered to help in the kitchen so I arrived in the morning. I spent the next four hours peeling and chopping vegetables which I imagine sounds very boring but honestly it was the best job I could have had. I got to be helpful and free up time for others to do more important activities without straining myself in any way. I enjoy chopping and peeling vegetables, as I find it very meditative, so I don't even feel like I was working that hard. It was a pleasure to be useful before the actual dinner, and it helped calm my nerves about it all - after all, I was helping, I was present, and I was focussed. What was there to be nervous about in such a state?
My boy came with me and did general dogsbody work through the day and evening - he helped out wherever he was required. Duties that he was involved in that day were so many - helping with the spit, helping with the potatoes, valet duties, drinks service, and probably more things behind the scenes that I did not see.
I had put the pressure on my boy a little before this event - I wanted him to make me proud. And that he did. By being flexible and ready to help wherever he was needed in whatever way was needed, he made himself available for service in a way that truly, truly did me proud. I am so honoured to be Daddy to such a dedicated and caring boy, who will put his hand up for whatever is needed.
At three, which was when the dominants were to be arriving (though many arrived early), I went and got dressed. Last year my boy organized for all my friends to put money in to get me a specially tailored suit, and we finally picked it up this past week. I combined that with the tailored shirt that I got with it, and my leather vest. I must have looked fabulous, everyone complimented me - though I wonder what it says about me that people sounded so surprised that I looked so good ;)
It was the perfect debut for my suit; as many of the people involved with the dinner had put in money for it, and it was such a special occasion for me. I felt proud and humbled at the same time by it all.
I went out the back so I could enter through the front door - my theory was that all the other dominants got to come through the front door, so I wanted to as well :) In the living room we dominants gathered and chatted and it was lovely. Drinks and nibbles were served by two wonderful submissives.
I was very quiet - not just at this point but through the whole night. It wasn't shyness for once; it was that I was genuinely enjoying just listening. People had wonderful stories and thoughts to share, and as I said at one point - I enjoy hearing about people's lives. I am only 25 and haven't had a life yet. :) It was then commented, "but look at how you're starting!", and I have to agree. To be present at such an event was glorious, and especially wonderful for me as the youngest person at the table.
When the time came, we were introduced to our servers for the evening - two servers to three dominants. I was served by the wonderful Taya and Ben, who were both charming and I felt very cared for by them.
We were then seated at the table and it felt like the night truly began. We talked and joked and shared stories and it was wonderful. The food was amazing, cooked by the wonderful Ms Lyn, and it was just sensational. The service was beautiful, despite the visible nerves all the submissives worked cleanly and quickly and I was never left wanting for anything. Maid Michelle made sure our drinks continued to flow with dedication.
As our meal finished, all the submissives gathered in the dining room and a cake was brought out and placed in front of Bella.
I don't know how comfortable people involved would be for me to describe what came next in detail, so I will refrain. However, I still want to express my feelings.
To watch Bella receive her Master's cover from such a respected and experienced person, surrounded by her Leather family and community, was such an honour, I can't even express it properly with only words. I teared up as I watched, rapt with joy. As I hugged her after I managed to choke out some words - "Thank you, for being you. I look up to you so much."
It's so true and so much bigger than those words could convey - but choked up with emotion it's often hard to get across meaning like that. Bella is such a role model for me, she is so kind, gentle and extremely skilled, and her dedication to Leather, service and kindness is beyond amazing. Should I be half the person she is as I grow, I will be a great person.
To share in such an event with her was such an honour, such a pleasure. To be present was, as its word implies, a gift.
After the ceremony we all shared in the cake and some more concrete gifts - as the dinner was "Christmas in July" themed, we had a kris kringle. Just to truly top off the night for me, my kris kringle gift was a beautiful clear paddle made by maid Michelle. This was such good luck for me for so many reasons - I have been wanting a paddle for some time, but unable to afford one. I also admire Michelle's work so much, but again, cash is rather tight at the moment, so being able to own a piece of Michelle's work makes me incredibly happy.
Not long after the kris kringle, sadly I had to leave as my body was starting to hurt in a very bad way and the tiredness that I'd been keeping at bay for a few hours crept up on me all at once. Boy drove me home and from there we went straight to bed, where I stayed until this morning, essentially.
I have so many feelings about the high protocol dinner - it was so wonderful, such a bright spot in my life, and something I already know I will look back on as I grow and always smile about.
One particular pleasure for me was being the youngest person at the table - by at least ten years, I believe. It was such an honour to be in the company of my elders and to listen to their thoughts and stories. Thank you all for being so amazing and being so kind.
The kindness of Leather folk is perhaps my favourite thing about them. I believe in kindness; I believe that it's a powerful thing and it's something I strive to be as much as I can (without hurting myself of course). Kindness is what bridges gaps between us all, regardless of age, gender, race, orientation, or anything else. The kindness that filled the gaps between us all at the dinner was palpable and beautiful.
Thank you to all those at the table, for your kindness and conversation and joy.
Thank you to all those who served, for your kindness and dedication and care.
(And thank you to the pup who sat in the corner, giving us all warmth and laughter... such a contribution can't be denied either, and was certainly a wonderful addition to the dinner.)
Thank you to the host, for your kindness and generosity.
Thank you to Bella, for everything you have done for the community and everything you are, and for letting us all be a part of such a special moment for you.
Thank you, Leather community, for allowing me such an experience so early in my life, one that I will treasure for the rest of it.
Labels:
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Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Covers
I've been thinking about covers a lot over the last few months. Even more so now that they've been buzzing about as both a topic and in a material sense in my local scene. First a few basics so you know what I'm talking about when I get to my actual thoughts.
A cover, in Leather, refers to a head covering, usually a cap. In some circles cover seems synonymous with a Muir cap, but it can really be any type of cap or hat I imagine. I can't see why not.
Muir caps are the type used as Master covers, or Master caps. What this means is that when a Master is granted the right to use that title by their community, a muir cap is usually the style presented.
So about that - cover ceremonies. It doesn't appear to be that common anymore (that I can see, at least around here) for Masters to have cover ceremonies, or even for Masters to not take on that title until their community gives it to them.
In theory, "Master" is a title that either a) your slave calls you and no one else does, or b) you are given the right to use by your community, for great service to the community and for being a good example (and are presented with a Master's cap, at a cover ceremony... you see how this all fits together?). In practise, it seems to be a lot more loosely wound than that - and that's probably a good thing.
Anyway, I know that's a little disjointed, but honestly I don't feel I'm any authority on the subject so I don't want to get into details because I don't really know any.
As I was saying, I've been thinking about covers a lot over the past few months. I've been thinking about them and thinking about my vest. I bought my vest myself, as a symbol of who I am and who I can become. It was deliberately something I wanted to come into my care to me from me, an act of autonomy and responsibility towards what it represents.
I do not feel the same about covers. I doubt I will ever buy my own Muir cap.
Call me a little old fashioned perhaps, but there's something about what a Master's cover can mean when it is gifted by one's peers, that is lacking should one buy it oneself. There is some connection to the rich history of Leather in that idea, and while I am generally against meritocracies for the overall population, in subcultures like Leather I think they can be valuable things.
I want to know, deep in my soul, that if I ever wear a Master's cap, it is because I am worthy, and am accepted as such.
It is very connected to the reasons why I felt I needed to design myself a coming of age rite in my adult years. I want to know that I have what it takes. I want to know that I can be the best I can be. I want to know that I deserve every moment of my various enlightenments and achievements.
A little wanky? Sure. But why shouldn't Leather be a little wanky, if it gets us hot? That's why we're here, isn't it? And I find deep, great joy in being a little wanky and taking some things just that little bit too seriously.
I do hope to one day be worthy of a cover ceremony - but I am not in any hurry. I have plenty of time to work slowly and carefully at who I am, to slowly grow into the person who may be given such a gift.
A cover, in Leather, refers to a head covering, usually a cap. In some circles cover seems synonymous with a Muir cap, but it can really be any type of cap or hat I imagine. I can't see why not.
Muir caps are the type used as Master covers, or Master caps. What this means is that when a Master is granted the right to use that title by their community, a muir cap is usually the style presented.
So about that - cover ceremonies. It doesn't appear to be that common anymore (that I can see, at least around here) for Masters to have cover ceremonies, or even for Masters to not take on that title until their community gives it to them.
In theory, "Master" is a title that either a) your slave calls you and no one else does, or b) you are given the right to use by your community, for great service to the community and for being a good example (and are presented with a Master's cap, at a cover ceremony... you see how this all fits together?). In practise, it seems to be a lot more loosely wound than that - and that's probably a good thing.
Anyway, I know that's a little disjointed, but honestly I don't feel I'm any authority on the subject so I don't want to get into details because I don't really know any.
As I was saying, I've been thinking about covers a lot over the past few months. I've been thinking about them and thinking about my vest. I bought my vest myself, as a symbol of who I am and who I can become. It was deliberately something I wanted to come into my care to me from me, an act of autonomy and responsibility towards what it represents.
I do not feel the same about covers. I doubt I will ever buy my own Muir cap.
Call me a little old fashioned perhaps, but there's something about what a Master's cover can mean when it is gifted by one's peers, that is lacking should one buy it oneself. There is some connection to the rich history of Leather in that idea, and while I am generally against meritocracies for the overall population, in subcultures like Leather I think they can be valuable things.
I want to know, deep in my soul, that if I ever wear a Master's cap, it is because I am worthy, and am accepted as such.
It is very connected to the reasons why I felt I needed to design myself a coming of age rite in my adult years. I want to know that I have what it takes. I want to know that I can be the best I can be. I want to know that I deserve every moment of my various enlightenments and achievements.
A little wanky? Sure. But why shouldn't Leather be a little wanky, if it gets us hot? That's why we're here, isn't it? And I find deep, great joy in being a little wanky and taking some things just that little bit too seriously.
I do hope to one day be worthy of a cover ceremony - but I am not in any hurry. I have plenty of time to work slowly and carefully at who I am, to slowly grow into the person who may be given such a gift.
Labels:
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Thursday, October 28, 2010
Intersex Awareness Day
I wrote and posted this originally on facebook. But it's close enough to heart and an important enough issue that I'm posting it here as well, despite the fact it has nothing to do with Leather or BDSM. Please forgive my indulgence.
~~~
So, apparently today is Intersex Awareness Day.
So here tis.
I'm intersex. I didn't know this until relatively recently in my life. I only found out while I was trying to medically transition, only to find out that I can't.
I'm a person.
Intersex people are not freaks or hermaphrodites. We are not "one in a million". We are more like one in a thousand, and that's conservatively. It's more likely that we're one in a hundred.
We can be men, women, both, or neither in identity. We can be cis or we can be trans. We can be straight, gay, bisexual, queer, asexual.
We exist.
When, during discussions on gender, sex, and/or intersex, you say things like "oh, but they're so rare, they don't count", you are being a douchebag. We count. There are millions of us. Just because we don't fit into your narrow ideas of how the world works does not mean that we don't count. The irony is that this sort of comment often comes from people who believe they're critical thinkers, logical people who work with evidence and facts rather than ideas or concepts.
We are people, and we are everywhere. You don't know if someone you know is intersex. You don't know if someone you're talking to is intersex. You only know if we tell you - and a lot of us don't come out, because it's a dangerous world out there to come out about being intersex.
So, on intersex awareness day, I'd like you to firstly, be aware of intersex people. We're real. Secondly, I'd like you to not be a douchebag about intersex people, for the rest of your life.
If you can do those two things, you'll make the world a much better place. And you'll be a decent person, which is its own reward.
~~~
And just to clarify, for those who know little to nothing about me otherwise; I'm an intersex man, an intersex trans man to be exact. So the blog title, "Diary of a Leatherman" is entirely true. Just a little less complicated. :)
~~~
So, apparently today is Intersex Awareness Day.
So here tis.
I'm intersex. I didn't know this until relatively recently in my life. I only found out while I was trying to medically transition, only to find out that I can't.
I'm a person.
Intersex people are not freaks or hermaphrodites. We are not "one in a million". We are more like one in a thousand, and that's conservatively. It's more likely that we're one in a hundred.
We can be men, women, both, or neither in identity. We can be cis or we can be trans. We can be straight, gay, bisexual, queer, asexual.
We exist.
When, during discussions on gender, sex, and/or intersex, you say things like "oh, but they're so rare, they don't count", you are being a douchebag. We count. There are millions of us. Just because we don't fit into your narrow ideas of how the world works does not mean that we don't count. The irony is that this sort of comment often comes from people who believe they're critical thinkers, logical people who work with evidence and facts rather than ideas or concepts.
We are people, and we are everywhere. You don't know if someone you know is intersex. You don't know if someone you're talking to is intersex. You only know if we tell you - and a lot of us don't come out, because it's a dangerous world out there to come out about being intersex.
So, on intersex awareness day, I'd like you to firstly, be aware of intersex people. We're real. Secondly, I'd like you to not be a douchebag about intersex people, for the rest of your life.
If you can do those two things, you'll make the world a much better place. And you'll be a decent person, which is its own reward.
~~~
And just to clarify, for those who know little to nothing about me otherwise; I'm an intersex man, an intersex trans man to be exact. So the blog title, "Diary of a Leatherman" is entirely true. Just a little less complicated. :)
Monday, September 13, 2010
Power Imbalances
So, boy is submissive and I am dominant. In short, I'm the boss.
But is it that simple?
I'm on a pension, and boy works full time and earns a decent wage.
One of the biggest problems in people's relationships is money. Whether it's joint money that no one can agree on what to spend it on, or the power imbalance of one partner making substantially more money than the other does.
I sometimes ponder on how this power imbalance affects our deliberate power imbalance. Sometimes I fear it has more bearing than the D/s does. Sometimes I think it's irrelevant. I guess like all things, it changes and shifts with time.
At the moment, I'm acutely aware of the power imbalance, as we're moving house. Moving house costs *money*, and a lot of that money will come from the boy. Also, the house we are moving into costs a lot of money, and the boy is paying slightly more rent than I am. Thus, he also gets the master bedroom, and I get a small bedroom that I'm barely going to fit my bed in.
Now, while the D/s exists and I could go, well, I'm the Daddy, therefore I get the master bedroom... the money power imbalance complicates it. Yes, I could do that. But it could spawn resentment from the boy - and resentment is a BAD thing to have in a relationship. It is poison.
Financial power imbalance makes balancing consensual power exchanges difficult. It requires a lot more balancing and juggling than a D/s relationship between two people of similar economic classes would.
So as it stands, at the moment the D/s is slightly less important than all the other stuff in our life. We have to work out money and logistics and move ourselves. Now, this can be a pitfall in D/s relationships - you just wave your hand and go, whatever, we'll work it out later, and before you know it you've lost the D/s connection. I am a little afraid of this but I know we will make it work.
What *does* worry me is that if we balance the financial power imbalance too well, will *I* start to feel resentment for the lack of balance in the D/s? I guess we'll see. I am not perfect, after all. If I start to feel that resentment, I will a) communicate it to the boy and b) work out some kind of solution to make me feel that my position as leader and head of the family is not under threat, nor is it being ignored.
But is it that simple?
I'm on a pension, and boy works full time and earns a decent wage.
One of the biggest problems in people's relationships is money. Whether it's joint money that no one can agree on what to spend it on, or the power imbalance of one partner making substantially more money than the other does.
I sometimes ponder on how this power imbalance affects our deliberate power imbalance. Sometimes I fear it has more bearing than the D/s does. Sometimes I think it's irrelevant. I guess like all things, it changes and shifts with time.
At the moment, I'm acutely aware of the power imbalance, as we're moving house. Moving house costs *money*, and a lot of that money will come from the boy. Also, the house we are moving into costs a lot of money, and the boy is paying slightly more rent than I am. Thus, he also gets the master bedroom, and I get a small bedroom that I'm barely going to fit my bed in.
Now, while the D/s exists and I could go, well, I'm the Daddy, therefore I get the master bedroom... the money power imbalance complicates it. Yes, I could do that. But it could spawn resentment from the boy - and resentment is a BAD thing to have in a relationship. It is poison.
Financial power imbalance makes balancing consensual power exchanges difficult. It requires a lot more balancing and juggling than a D/s relationship between two people of similar economic classes would.
So as it stands, at the moment the D/s is slightly less important than all the other stuff in our life. We have to work out money and logistics and move ourselves. Now, this can be a pitfall in D/s relationships - you just wave your hand and go, whatever, we'll work it out later, and before you know it you've lost the D/s connection. I am a little afraid of this but I know we will make it work.
What *does* worry me is that if we balance the financial power imbalance too well, will *I* start to feel resentment for the lack of balance in the D/s? I guess we'll see. I am not perfect, after all. If I start to feel that resentment, I will a) communicate it to the boy and b) work out some kind of solution to make me feel that my position as leader and head of the family is not under threat, nor is it being ignored.
Labels:
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daddy/boy,
family,
leather,
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problem solving,
relationships,
respect,
responsibility
Friday, August 13, 2010
Family in the Scene
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Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Being Daddy
Today I was thinking about what it means to be a Daddy... or more specifically, what it means to be so much a Daddy that even people who have no D/s nor parental connection to you sometimes address you as Daddy.
Let's delve into history a bit.
First, not so long ago, I struggled with being identified as a Daddy. I had the "Daddy = incest/child abuse" connection in my head, and even if I battled that down logically, I was still left with a hefty squick factor. I don't know exactly what helped me overcome that (probably desperation, to be honest--trying to find what this relationship with the boy meant to me and how it was supposed to work, trying to find what, exactly, worked for us, etc) but I think a large part of it was also that I began to see that "Daddy" is not always about the paternal parent. Sometimes "Daddy" is someone with authority. Sometimes "the old man" is a mentor, not your actual father. And "father", anyway, is something that we call priests, people who we (generally) assume to be of good and trustworthy character.
And so I began to learn that "Daddy" could mean love and nurture and authority, not a narrow definition in regards to reproduction.
Now let's go a lot further back in history. Let's go back to my childhood and have a look at my mother.
My mother is probably one of the best people in the world. She was (and still is) very kind and very compassionate. She cared for the people and the community around her with great zeal. We had numerous people crashing on our lounge room floor if they had nowhere to go. We had people come round for dinner because they were desperate, hungry, or even just lonely. My mother looked after and cared for everyone, with unconditional love and devotion.
Unsurprisingly, all the people who were connected to my family also began to call her "mum", just like I did, just like my sister did.
Looking back, I'm a little surprised I didn't get jealous. I didn't think "they can't call her that, she's MY mum!". I nodded and understood, because my Mum was everyone's mum, that was just who she was. And as a child, I also knew this: it didn't matter if we all called her mum, because when *I* called her Mum, it had a special meaning that didn't apply to anyone else.
These two things are connected.
For a long time I've been overly concerned with what it means when someone calls me Daddy. While I don't think I was wrong to be, I think that I need to remember the thing I knew as a child: Even if lots of people call me Daddy, my boy and my girl are both saying something different when they say it. They're special.
I think a part of this is lingering worry over the term and its connections. I'm still learning what it means to be Daddy, or rather, I've been under the assumption that I was still learning what it means to be Daddy. Really I've always known, and if people choose to seek that in me then I have no reason to deny them that.
So this is a second coming out, I suppose. I'm a Daddy, that's who I am. It is no longer reserved for only the special ones, but the special ones are still special. I will no longer wince when those who are not mine call me Daddy, because they are simply responding to something that I cannot (and choose not to) change.
(I'm a Sir too, but that's a subject for another post.)
Let's delve into history a bit.
First, not so long ago, I struggled with being identified as a Daddy. I had the "Daddy = incest/child abuse" connection in my head, and even if I battled that down logically, I was still left with a hefty squick factor. I don't know exactly what helped me overcome that (probably desperation, to be honest--trying to find what this relationship with the boy meant to me and how it was supposed to work, trying to find what, exactly, worked for us, etc) but I think a large part of it was also that I began to see that "Daddy" is not always about the paternal parent. Sometimes "Daddy" is someone with authority. Sometimes "the old man" is a mentor, not your actual father. And "father", anyway, is something that we call priests, people who we (generally) assume to be of good and trustworthy character.
And so I began to learn that "Daddy" could mean love and nurture and authority, not a narrow definition in regards to reproduction.
Now let's go a lot further back in history. Let's go back to my childhood and have a look at my mother.
My mother is probably one of the best people in the world. She was (and still is) very kind and very compassionate. She cared for the people and the community around her with great zeal. We had numerous people crashing on our lounge room floor if they had nowhere to go. We had people come round for dinner because they were desperate, hungry, or even just lonely. My mother looked after and cared for everyone, with unconditional love and devotion.
Unsurprisingly, all the people who were connected to my family also began to call her "mum", just like I did, just like my sister did.
Looking back, I'm a little surprised I didn't get jealous. I didn't think "they can't call her that, she's MY mum!". I nodded and understood, because my Mum was everyone's mum, that was just who she was. And as a child, I also knew this: it didn't matter if we all called her mum, because when *I* called her Mum, it had a special meaning that didn't apply to anyone else.
These two things are connected.
For a long time I've been overly concerned with what it means when someone calls me Daddy. While I don't think I was wrong to be, I think that I need to remember the thing I knew as a child: Even if lots of people call me Daddy, my boy and my girl are both saying something different when they say it. They're special.
I think a part of this is lingering worry over the term and its connections. I'm still learning what it means to be Daddy, or rather, I've been under the assumption that I was still learning what it means to be Daddy. Really I've always known, and if people choose to seek that in me then I have no reason to deny them that.
So this is a second coming out, I suppose. I'm a Daddy, that's who I am. It is no longer reserved for only the special ones, but the special ones are still special. I will no longer wince when those who are not mine call me Daddy, because they are simply responding to something that I cannot (and choose not to) change.
(I'm a Sir too, but that's a subject for another post.)
Labels:
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Saturday, July 24, 2010
Thoughts on Orders vs. Inspiration
I am very much into obedient submissives. If I have to fight you to get you to submit, I'm not going to bother. I am not here to fight your inner battles for you.
Lots of dominants are like this, it's not surprising. But I recently realized that I'm not even that big of a fan of giving orders.
Stay with me here. I know you're wondering how there can be obedience without giving orders - after all, obedience implies there's something there to obey. And it's not that I don't have preferences, or that I don't have expectations. It's just the orders themselves that often fall by the wayside.
I *could* beat myself up about this and think of myself as a bad dominant, but I don't think that's what it is. I think it's that I'd rather inspire a submissive to want to do things, instead of just tell them to do them.
I would rather discuss with my boy why it would be a good thing for him to go to the gym twice a week, than simply tell him to do so. I would rather tell him that I enjoy his service, and then reward him when he does it, than to simply boss him around.
Sure, if I want something specific, I will give an order; but it's usually very small things that I do this for. "Fetch my shoes", "refill my glass", things like that. Anything bigger and I would rather open a dialogue about it and find whatever seed it is in a submissive that wants to do whatever I'm after, and draw it out.
Admittedly this entire concept mostly applies to boys and girls and submissives - I do not know if I would take this same approach with a slave, not having yet owned one. I suspect with a slave I would be more likely to give direct orders.
I have owned a girl before, but she was definitely a submissive and not a slave; it might be confusing as to how one can 'own' someone who is not a slave, but it worked for us... I suppose when I think about it I have a similar relationship with my boy, though the words "ownership" or "owned" have never been thrown around, "belongs" and "belonging" and "mine" have been.
The line between "24/7 D/s" and "slavery" is often a little blurry, I suppose.
At any rate, back on subject, most of this does come back to my dislike of "force". I am a very strong believer in autonomy and consent, and while I am perfectly aware that "forced" rarely actually means overriding someone's autonomy, it still makes me a little edgy. I think maybe this is why it might be different with a slave who has agreed to a consensual-non-consent arrangement; the consent has been given in advance, for an explicit period of time. This is differing from my other D/s relationships I have had, where even though I might be the boss, the autonomy and consent of my submissive is not a blanket statement at any point.
I do want to add a slave to my life sometime in the near future; I know it will be difficult to find the slave that is the right fit with me and my family, but I'm sure they're out there somewhere.
Lots of dominants are like this, it's not surprising. But I recently realized that I'm not even that big of a fan of giving orders.
Stay with me here. I know you're wondering how there can be obedience without giving orders - after all, obedience implies there's something there to obey. And it's not that I don't have preferences, or that I don't have expectations. It's just the orders themselves that often fall by the wayside.
I *could* beat myself up about this and think of myself as a bad dominant, but I don't think that's what it is. I think it's that I'd rather inspire a submissive to want to do things, instead of just tell them to do them.
I would rather discuss with my boy why it would be a good thing for him to go to the gym twice a week, than simply tell him to do so. I would rather tell him that I enjoy his service, and then reward him when he does it, than to simply boss him around.
Sure, if I want something specific, I will give an order; but it's usually very small things that I do this for. "Fetch my shoes", "refill my glass", things like that. Anything bigger and I would rather open a dialogue about it and find whatever seed it is in a submissive that wants to do whatever I'm after, and draw it out.
Admittedly this entire concept mostly applies to boys and girls and submissives - I do not know if I would take this same approach with a slave, not having yet owned one. I suspect with a slave I would be more likely to give direct orders.
I have owned a girl before, but she was definitely a submissive and not a slave; it might be confusing as to how one can 'own' someone who is not a slave, but it worked for us... I suppose when I think about it I have a similar relationship with my boy, though the words "ownership" or "owned" have never been thrown around, "belongs" and "belonging" and "mine" have been.
The line between "24/7 D/s" and "slavery" is often a little blurry, I suppose.
At any rate, back on subject, most of this does come back to my dislike of "force". I am a very strong believer in autonomy and consent, and while I am perfectly aware that "forced" rarely actually means overriding someone's autonomy, it still makes me a little edgy. I think maybe this is why it might be different with a slave who has agreed to a consensual-non-consent arrangement; the consent has been given in advance, for an explicit period of time. This is differing from my other D/s relationships I have had, where even though I might be the boss, the autonomy and consent of my submissive is not a blanket statement at any point.
I do want to add a slave to my life sometime in the near future; I know it will be difficult to find the slave that is the right fit with me and my family, but I'm sure they're out there somewhere.
Labels:
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leather,
life,
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Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Responsibility
Responsibility is a pretty big part of D/s and Leather. Whether it's being responsible for your submissive, or being responsible for fulfilling your duties to your dominant, it's a pretty important part of this type of lifestyle.
Recently I have been coming into a place of further responsibility towards my community.
Over the last couple of years, but much more intensely in the last couple of months, I've been approached by people. People asking my advice, my thoughts, my recommendations. People asking for my help. People finding comfort and safety in my company.
While a large part of me is stunned at this, being that I am but a baby of the world (I am only 24 years old), I am doing my best to not respond with self-deprecating nonsense. I am doing my best to not say "But why me? I'm crap!" or anything like that.
Instead I am doing my best to take this responsibility seriously.
If people are coming to me asking for help, it is my responsibility to take that seriously. To listen to them, to do my best for them within my abilities. To care for them as much as I am able to do without compromising myself.
If people look up to me, it is my responsibility to do my best at being a person worth the faith they put in me.
It is, of course, not my responsibility to demand an unreachable standard of myself, by any means. But I believe I can find the balance between being a person who holds up to people's ideal of me being a person of good regard - AND being able to care for myself and allow myself my human flaws.
Or at least, that is what I am aiming for.
Recently I have been coming into a place of further responsibility towards my community.
Over the last couple of years, but much more intensely in the last couple of months, I've been approached by people. People asking my advice, my thoughts, my recommendations. People asking for my help. People finding comfort and safety in my company.
While a large part of me is stunned at this, being that I am but a baby of the world (I am only 24 years old), I am doing my best to not respond with self-deprecating nonsense. I am doing my best to not say "But why me? I'm crap!" or anything like that.
Instead I am doing my best to take this responsibility seriously.
If people are coming to me asking for help, it is my responsibility to take that seriously. To listen to them, to do my best for them within my abilities. To care for them as much as I am able to do without compromising myself.
If people look up to me, it is my responsibility to do my best at being a person worth the faith they put in me.
It is, of course, not my responsibility to demand an unreachable standard of myself, by any means. But I believe I can find the balance between being a person who holds up to people's ideal of me being a person of good regard - AND being able to care for myself and allow myself my human flaws.
Or at least, that is what I am aiming for.
Labels:
challenge,
community,
life,
respect,
responsibility
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Asking of Others...
One thing I struggle with as a dominant person is that I feel I should not ask anything of anyone that I cannot do myself.
For example... my boy has a blog (which he has asked me not to link to, as he chooses to keep it anonymous for the time being at least) which I have told him to update at least once a week. He has missed a couple of weeks, so I have asked him to have two posts up before Monday. Even as I told him this, I knew that I too was going to write two posts before Monday. Because I do not want him thinking that I am asking something of him that I am not willing to do myself.
There's no real reason for this... much of D/s is built on the idea that one person is in charge and has the power, and so if that person chooses to task their submissive with things they themselves do not take part in, that shouldn't be a problem.
So why do I think that this has to apply to me?
Much of it comes down to my own problems with authority. I have trouble respecting someone who has authority over me if they ask or tell me to do things they themselves aren't willing to do, or I have any suspicions that they might not be willing to do.
Sensei put me through some terribly difficult things, but I never doubted that he either would do it, or in fact had done it in the past. My parents never expected anything from me that they couldn't deliver themselves. I had the utmost trust and respect in my surgeon years ago, because as a tracheotomy patient himself he knew what it was like under the knife as well as holding it.
What is this elusive quality? What is it that makes me wonder whether or not someone would or had gone through what they put me through?
Most of it comes down to trust and experience. I want to trust that the person who is asking much of me knows what they're getting me into, and what better way to know for certain than to have gone through it themselves, or at least be willing to do so?
When I think back to people who had technical authority over me, but to whom I did not defer, that was missing. The other thing that was missing was respect.
When someone commands something of me, I need to know they respect me. If they give me respect, I will return it tenfold, and most likely do as they wish.
I am reminded of a story from martial arts... (oh, prepare to hear that sentence a lot in this blog!)
Sensei would often get his higher graded students to teach the class for half a session, or even a full session. This in itself was a teaching exercise - he was teaching his students, in turn, to teach. He was also watching them and seeing if they were capable of it.
Now obviously, this meant that if Sensei was ever out of town or sick (although I don't think he ever got sick before he died), one of his high graded students would teach the class. (And poor me would go without my private, one-on-one lessons from him for that week or two.)
There was one particular Senpai (loosely translated to 'upperclassman', perhaps best translated as 'knowledgeable student and teacher's aid') who we shall call Bill for the sake of this entry.
Bill, despite being a third level blackbelt, had no respect for other students. He was also a terrible teacher, but that's beside the point at the moment. Bill certainly had no respect for me, as I was a very young student. He was also a very arrogant person, who believed that because he could punch very hard and kick very high, he was a magnificent karateka (someone who does karate). This, of course, is not how karate works... to be truly good at karate, you have to live it and feel it within your spirit.
One evening class that Bill was teaching, his arrogance and his lack of care for the students left to him by Sensei was driving me crazy, and I couldn't take it anymore. I held up my hand and told him that I had to leave the class.
He demanded in a snobbish tone, "Why? What do you need to leave for?"
This was completely unacceptable, and his lack of respect for me had finally reached boiling point. I am very ashamed to admit that I sneered, "What does it matter to you?"
This was not respectful of me, and perhaps I should have known better, but I was only fourteen, so I am going to give myself a little slack on the issue.
He yelled at me and I yelled back, and we had a little spat before he finally excused me from the class. I do regret losing my cool with him, but I am proud of myself for waiting for his formal dismissal before actually leaving.
I would NEVER have acted this way with Sensei. Never in a thousand years. It wasn't fear that stopped me acting like this with Sensei, it was respect. I respected him, and I looked up to him. So of course I wouldn't be rude to him.
But this man, this Bill... he was so rude, so arrogant, and did not care for the learning experience of those left in his care. He had no respect for the other students, and we could all sense that... thus, we did not respect him either.
I think of Bill when I think about D/s sometimes. How if he had granted me respect as a student, I would have granted him respect as a teacher. He was a very technically skilled karateka and I could have learned much from him, if only there had been an exchange of respect.
I want any submissive in my care to know I respect them. This is very important to me. I only ask for what I am able to give when it comes to respect, and that is one of the most important things about this dynamic, about this lifestyle, for me.
I think that is where much of my fear comes from, even when it comes to tangible tasks. I am afraid that asking a task of someone that I am either not willing or not able to do myself is taking and being self indulgent like Bill was. I know, intellectually, that this is not the case, but emotionally, it will take a lot of time to learn.
But I will never compromise this belief when it comes to respect. I will always grant an exchange of respect with any submissive in my care - and, for that matter, with all other human beings on the planet, as long as they grant me the same.
Even a slave who desires to be treated like trash, abused and used and kept in harsh conditions... they deserve respect as well, perhaps more than anyone. Choosing to live according to desires such as that takes an immense amount of personal strength, and that should be respected.
Then, too, we must respect ourselves. If we do not respect ourselves, then we are empty of respect, and have none to offer those around us.
For example... my boy has a blog (which he has asked me not to link to, as he chooses to keep it anonymous for the time being at least) which I have told him to update at least once a week. He has missed a couple of weeks, so I have asked him to have two posts up before Monday. Even as I told him this, I knew that I too was going to write two posts before Monday. Because I do not want him thinking that I am asking something of him that I am not willing to do myself.
There's no real reason for this... much of D/s is built on the idea that one person is in charge and has the power, and so if that person chooses to task their submissive with things they themselves do not take part in, that shouldn't be a problem.
So why do I think that this has to apply to me?
Much of it comes down to my own problems with authority. I have trouble respecting someone who has authority over me if they ask or tell me to do things they themselves aren't willing to do, or I have any suspicions that they might not be willing to do.
Sensei put me through some terribly difficult things, but I never doubted that he either would do it, or in fact had done it in the past. My parents never expected anything from me that they couldn't deliver themselves. I had the utmost trust and respect in my surgeon years ago, because as a tracheotomy patient himself he knew what it was like under the knife as well as holding it.
What is this elusive quality? What is it that makes me wonder whether or not someone would or had gone through what they put me through?
Most of it comes down to trust and experience. I want to trust that the person who is asking much of me knows what they're getting me into, and what better way to know for certain than to have gone through it themselves, or at least be willing to do so?
When I think back to people who had technical authority over me, but to whom I did not defer, that was missing. The other thing that was missing was respect.
When someone commands something of me, I need to know they respect me. If they give me respect, I will return it tenfold, and most likely do as they wish.
I am reminded of a story from martial arts... (oh, prepare to hear that sentence a lot in this blog!)
Sensei would often get his higher graded students to teach the class for half a session, or even a full session. This in itself was a teaching exercise - he was teaching his students, in turn, to teach. He was also watching them and seeing if they were capable of it.
Now obviously, this meant that if Sensei was ever out of town or sick (although I don't think he ever got sick before he died), one of his high graded students would teach the class. (And poor me would go without my private, one-on-one lessons from him for that week or two.)
There was one particular Senpai (loosely translated to 'upperclassman', perhaps best translated as 'knowledgeable student and teacher's aid') who we shall call Bill for the sake of this entry.
Bill, despite being a third level blackbelt, had no respect for other students. He was also a terrible teacher, but that's beside the point at the moment. Bill certainly had no respect for me, as I was a very young student. He was also a very arrogant person, who believed that because he could punch very hard and kick very high, he was a magnificent karateka (someone who does karate). This, of course, is not how karate works... to be truly good at karate, you have to live it and feel it within your spirit.
One evening class that Bill was teaching, his arrogance and his lack of care for the students left to him by Sensei was driving me crazy, and I couldn't take it anymore. I held up my hand and told him that I had to leave the class.
He demanded in a snobbish tone, "Why? What do you need to leave for?"
This was completely unacceptable, and his lack of respect for me had finally reached boiling point. I am very ashamed to admit that I sneered, "What does it matter to you?"
This was not respectful of me, and perhaps I should have known better, but I was only fourteen, so I am going to give myself a little slack on the issue.
He yelled at me and I yelled back, and we had a little spat before he finally excused me from the class. I do regret losing my cool with him, but I am proud of myself for waiting for his formal dismissal before actually leaving.
I would NEVER have acted this way with Sensei. Never in a thousand years. It wasn't fear that stopped me acting like this with Sensei, it was respect. I respected him, and I looked up to him. So of course I wouldn't be rude to him.
But this man, this Bill... he was so rude, so arrogant, and did not care for the learning experience of those left in his care. He had no respect for the other students, and we could all sense that... thus, we did not respect him either.
I think of Bill when I think about D/s sometimes. How if he had granted me respect as a student, I would have granted him respect as a teacher. He was a very technically skilled karateka and I could have learned much from him, if only there had been an exchange of respect.
I want any submissive in my care to know I respect them. This is very important to me. I only ask for what I am able to give when it comes to respect, and that is one of the most important things about this dynamic, about this lifestyle, for me.
I think that is where much of my fear comes from, even when it comes to tangible tasks. I am afraid that asking a task of someone that I am either not willing or not able to do myself is taking and being self indulgent like Bill was. I know, intellectually, that this is not the case, but emotionally, it will take a lot of time to learn.
But I will never compromise this belief when it comes to respect. I will always grant an exchange of respect with any submissive in my care - and, for that matter, with all other human beings on the planet, as long as they grant me the same.
Even a slave who desires to be treated like trash, abused and used and kept in harsh conditions... they deserve respect as well, perhaps more than anyone. Choosing to live according to desires such as that takes an immense amount of personal strength, and that should be respected.
Then, too, we must respect ourselves. If we do not respect ourselves, then we are empty of respect, and have none to offer those around us.
Labels:
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leather,
martial arts,
philosophy,
queer,
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