I was a pretty confident, smart, take-no-bullshit young woman, and I always attracted men who would fall over themselves to do what I wanted (even before I really figured out what I wanted). Given my later proclivities, I should have been happy with that, right?
But I found them insufferably dull because I would push at them, and they would roll over at the slightest hint of my disapproval, would become scared to even express an opinion in case it wasn’t one I liked, they were cowed. They weren’t doing what I wanted because they wanted me to be happy, they were doing it because they were afraid that I would leave them. And leave them I did.
The meaner I was, the more they liked me *even though that wasn’t what I wanted*. I would steamroll right over them, lose respect and then get bored. Go figure.
I didn’t like myself being that person, and I want to apologise to every man who crossed my path in those days, but I just couldn’t figure out what was wrong, nor could I figure out how to fix it. I chose men I liked and then walked all over them until there was nothing left.
I finally figured I needed a man who would stand up to me. The logic of the young me is perfectly sound, oh, young Ferns, you silly thing!! *laugh* Are you getting a picture of what that might have looked like, and a hint that maybe that didn’t work out so well? Yeah, it didn’t.
I sought out stronger and stronger willed men and finally had a truly horrible relationship (which I fondly refer to as “the relationship from hell”) with a man who never backed down. In that relationship, I discovered a capacity for rage that I had never seen in myself before and have never seen since. Had you asked me if I was capable of that kind of blind and violent rage before that relationship, I’d have laughed my head off and said “Oh hell no!” So *obviously* that didn’t work either.
I struggled with my relationships with men until I met my first ‘vanilla submissive‘ when I was about 26.
He was a strong, smart, fabulous, opinionated man who laid it all down at my feet *not* because he was afraid, but because he loved me and wanted to see me happy. I led and he blossomed under it, and he never collapsed like the men in my early relationships. Every decision to do what I wanted was a clear choice on his part, handing me the power over and over again, with love and incredible sweetness, and every time he did, we grew closer.
He was the first man I fell in love with, and the first I felt sexually free with. I used to have lists of ‘things I wanted to do in bed’, and he was wonderfully adventurous and compliant (duh!).
On the kink side, I was never one who discussed my sex life with girlfriends, so I thought I was ‘normal’ until my female flatmate was all ‘eeewww’ when she saw what we had in the bedroom (*nothing* scary… it was totally kink-lite!!).
With him, it was the first time I discovered what worked for me, and it was the first time I thought that maybe I wasn’t sitting in the middle of the bell curve.
… continued in Part II…
If this seems familiar, it’s because it’s a slightly reworked answer to a question from an interview I did for Dishevelled Domina on her blog. The full interview is here: Tales of a Domme: Interview #30