I got a comment from Sara of Finding Sara the other day that I wanted to answer… But I found I’d probably have way too much to say for just a comment reply. (Oh, I know, I was shocked too. I’m usually the epitome of brevity.)

Writing this post made me think. A lot. So thank you, Sara.

Hi Chloe, I have a question for you. I have for some time been trying to understand why some people choose the term “slave” to describe themselves. What it connotes to them that is different than “Submissive”. How can you be “owned” when at the end of the day, the power to submit (or not) is yours? Yes, your Master respects your limits, but if he did not…then you would change things. You agree that it IS in your power to do so. My connotation of slave was someone who was owned and had no say, no limits of their own, could be even killed if their owner decided to do so. The slaves of the south 100 years ago and the slaves in Roman times, etc…they were truly slaves. Are you not just in a relationship in which you are more submissive than I am in mine? So why call yourself slave then? I am not trying to challenge you here, but really just trying to understand. I had some of this discussion with swan sometime ago…and your post reminds me that my knowledge and understanding is still lacking. Thanks, Sara

I am going to go out on a limb here and say my answer will not reflect the views of many (quite possibly any) other slaves or submissives. I tend to invent my own ideas and theories about things, so I don’t expect this post will be enlightening on a community level. (It might not even be enlightening on a Chloe-level. We’ll see.)

I’ve struggled with how to organize my responses to the questions. Maybe I should just go in order?

How can you be “owned” when at the end of the day, the power to submit (or not) is yours? Yes, your Master respects your limits, but if he did not…then you would change things. You agree that it IS in your power to do so.

I do agree that it is within my power to walk away from this relationship. It is not within my power to reorganize the relationship dynamic, but is it in my power to up and leave? It is.

However, I don’t know that I agree that my Master respects my limits. (This has been really difficult for me to think about, and I will probably have to revisit it in the future.)

He certainly respects his limits. But mine? I don’t think so.

It may appear he does, but that is only because I committed myself to a man who shares the same core, deal-breaker limits with me. We agree that things like bestiality, infidelity, incest, suicide, homicide, pedophilia, and necrophilia are off limits, period. But he’s not respecting “my” limits, there. Not by a long shot. He’s respecting his own. That’s why, for me, it was so important to find a man who felt this way. I would never have been able to truly belong to a man who didn’t. And my goal was never qualified submission. It was being owned.

I’ve written for a LONG time, writing and backspacing, about my other “limits” and I realized I’m not quite ready to have that discussion. I can’t make myself clear because I’m not clear in my head. My apologies for that, but it’s something I’ve got to think about a lot more before I know how to discuss it. It’s not even that relevant… well, yes it is very relevant… But, A-N-Y-W-A-Y…

My connotation of slave was someone who was owned and had no say, no limits of their own, could be even killed if their owner decided to do so.

To me, that’s just a connotation of slavery, not the connotation. The nuanced and personal nature of connotations means that words and phrases and ideas can have different meanings across societies, communities, individuals, and situations.

Granted, if someone says “a slave” outside the BDSM lifestyle, the most likely connotations coming to mind are that of the enslavement of Africans in the Americas, the products of Mesoamerican wars, the conquered peoples in the Roman Empire, etc. You’re exactly right. That’s a majority-of-the-time type of connotation.

But of course I am not a slave in the way the slaves of the south or the slaves in Roman times were slaves. For a thousand reasons, no, it’s not like that. And by saying I am a slave, I am not trying to equate myself with people who were forcibly enslaved and were the victims of unspeakable acts.

Just as equally, when I say slave… I am not referring to slaving a hard drive, a slave clock that answers to a master clock, the band Slave, or the card game.

I’m referring to a dynamic in a romantic relationship. Now, of course, the question remains… Why is THAT the best term for my dynamic? Why NOT submissive?

(This “ways the word slave is used” discussion leads me to an idea…. You know how some people equate owning animals as a form of slavery? Maybe that’s the best way for me to say “THAT kind of slavery.” I really am his pet. Alive and free-thinking. Devoted and dependent. The choice, at the end of the day, is mine whether I want to stick around. But without him? I’ve been domesticated. I’ve been trained. I could run away, but I’m REALLY dependent on him. And I want and need to stick around and be owned, much more than I want or need any kind of freedom that he doesn’t grant. I want to be fed and be loved and feel safe and protected and cared for by him. And I might not like performing all of the tricks, but I LOVE the look on my Master’s face when I do.)

So why call yourself slave then?

Well, I already talked about the pet/slavery idea briefly. But there are other reasons.

For one thing, if you look up definitions for the terms, based on the denotations of the words and my personal feelings, I feel I am primarily a slave, not submissive.

The second definition Merriam-Webster has for a slave is: “one that is completely subservient to a dominating influence.” And yes, exactly. That’s me.

Submissive is a bit harder to find an accurate definition because it gets thrown around as a noun, and it’s not. It’s an adjective. I’ll use its main entry, “submit.” Some of the definitions (like presenting something, as in “I’m submitting this for approval”) clearly make no sense. Ones like “to yield oneself to the authority or will of another” sound really close, right?

But those definitions are semantically equated with surrender. In fact, “surrender” is right there in the dictionary entry as a definition for the word “submit.”

And that’s not what my relationship is. This is not, primarily, a relationship built on surrender. To me, this is a relationship built on belonging.

In short, I see it as such: One who is a slave belongs to another. One who submits, surrenders to another. I belong to my Master. Do I submit to him sometimes – am I conquered? Yes. But is that my main relationship dynamic? No. Belonging to him, being owned by him, is.

I’m not saying I’m going to achieve a perfect state of “being property” (though I’d like to). I’m not saying I’m a slave in the way the slaves of the south were.

I guess all I’m saying is this: I don’t look at him and think “I submit to him” or “I am submissive to him.” I look at him and I think “I belong to him.  He owns me.”

That’s the difference, to me.

(There is probably a whole lot more I could say.  There are a million other thoughts in my head… But for tonight, that’s what my muddled and tired brain is thinking.)

Limits fascinate me. (This is not a difficult feat. I can be fascinated by sewing kits. Those mini scissors are OMG, SO SMALL.)

What are some of my limits? Well, I will have a huge (and somewhat hilarious, being as it was written way back in the day) post about this, so I won’t go into them deeply at the moment. But, I’ll pick one to illustrate my point. Let’s use bestiality since I’ve gone into more depth with it before.

I ain’t doing it. Nope. Not happening. Ever. I’ll never have sex with any living or previously living thing that cannot give informed consent.

(Errrm… Except produce.  I don’t get consent from produce.  And that shit is definitely alive in some capacity.  But once that comes off the vine, isn’t it dead anyway? But wait, does that make me some kind of vegetarian necrophiliac?  *headdesk*)

Anyway, the reason it’s okay for me to have limits, and still be considered a slave, is because…

…

…

Wow, I just realized this whole post could end there.    Because the reason I can have the limits AND be a slave?  It’s ’cause HE thinks it’s okay.  Nothing else ANY other human has to say about it matters.  If he says so?  Then it is so. 

But, it’s me, so I have a WAY longer post in mind.  So, the OTHER reason I can have limits is because Antonio and I share the same core limits.

I knew his limits going into this… I have to assume I’m not the only slave who met her Master and didn’t just say, “You know what, let’s not talk about anything or get to know each other whatsoever. Let’s just be Master and slave. Sound good? Good. What’s your name again?”

In the beginning we slapped names and titles on our lifestyle.  We said “Dominant” and “submissive” to describe ourselves.  I was, at that time, caught up in semantic definitions. I was scared if I so much as thought to myself I wanted to be a “slave,” I’d live in a hell-world of licking poopy toilets and never seeing another living soul or something.

I was, as it happens, a bit of a moron.

And yes, eventually, we started just thinking of each other in terms of Master and slave. (Okay, that’s a lie.   He just growled out “SLAVE” one day,  and I was dumbfounded for a while, but it sounds way better if I say we came to some magical, mutual, mental agreement in our deeply connected subconscious minds.) I guess it made more sense to call ourselves that, in a way.  Kinda?  It also is slightly pointless, because no title change in the world will change my dynamic with him. But it works for him, so it works for me.

We spent a long time exploring, verbally before physically, our kinks and desires and goals and histories. I got a LOT of assignments that included everything from describing fantasies to playing a sort of word association game with dozens of terms. I had to discuss things I felt I was unwilling to explore no matter what, and things I didn’t want to do, but I knew wouldn’t harm me or go against any of my ethics, etc.

I see now that these were mental exercises designed so he could see what I was ready for, and see how much of a struggle I might put up over certain things, not for me to establish ground rules.  There were things I said “Nooooo” to that he just kind of nodded and was like “Okay, I understand YOU don’t want that. Next?” But there were some things, the important things – like bestiality, incest, necrophilia, pedophilia, infidelity – that he said “Agreed. Absolutely not going to happen, discussion over about that” to.

Those are HIS limits, if you can call them that. He doesn’t need limits, because something he doesn’t feel like doing will never be explored in the first place.  So they are not that important for HIM to know or talk about.  But I needed to know he had them and what they were, before I could truly give myself to him as his slave.

If he’d been into certain things, bent on, I don’t know… Loaning out my services to a million random people or making me give dogs blow jobs… He would not have been the Master for me. I would still have been a submissive woman and he would have still been a dominant man (and he would have made another slave a very happy girl I’m sure) but we would not have been right for each other.

Does that make me not a “true” slave? I dunno and, more importantly, I don’t care. I’ve always felt deeply submissive, and while I might not be A slave, my only goal is to be HIS slave. He says I am, I say I am. Problem solved and discussion over as far as I’m concerned.

I think I’m not being clear. Or at least, I could be clearer. I’m saying everyone is like this, I think. If you’re fundamentally against infidelity (as I am) you would not gravitate toward a Master who was into loaning out his property. And if you did, or entered into something before figuring out the foundations, you’d probably be miserable. If you simply didn’t LIKE it, didn’t WANT to do it, you might end up happy, if being made do to things you don’t like is a kink.

But if the action burned your soul and made you loathe who you are?  That’s different. You would not be a happy person, never mind a happy slave. You can’t loathe something on a soul-deep level and still be happy with yourself and life. You can’t loathe who you are as a human being and be happy. I think a relationship that made you feel that would fail. Not because someone was a bad slave or a bad Master, but because two people with different CORE limits who are involved in a power exchange dynamic cannot be truly happy with one another.  Not in The World According to Chloe.

So I think no matter who you are, you have limits that would end a relationship. Most people would say things like… “It’s insane to think about what I would do if he asked me to kill our children; he would never do that!” Well, yes, my point exactly. Your limits are okay, and it IS insane to think about those things, because you are with someone who shares those kinds of limits.

It’s not that you don’t have the limits, it’s that they match your partner’s limits.  So you feel safe they will never be explored. Don’t pretend there aren’t people (and couples!) who are murderers, who rape children, who destroy their own families. There are.  So imagine trying to be a slave to one of them? Or imagine your Master got a disease that addled his brain, and he suddenly thought those were good things to do, and ordered you to do them.  You wouldn’t. Because your core human limits wouldn’t match anymore.

(Btw, if you want to swear up and down that your core limits do NOT include things like murder and pedophilia? I think you’re either delightfully self-deluded, or you need to Go. Away. And. Get. Help. Right. Fucking. Now.)

I have two more things I want to talk about in relation to limits… But I’m going to post them later, I think. I told myself I’d write a short post today, so I’m going to see if I can cut this sucker off while it’s still only semi-long and not colossal.

(EDITED TO ADD:  Excuse me while I edit this a billion times. I make WAY too many typos.)

I got myself a letter from lalana.

Here’s the game:
You leave a comment (asking for a letter) on this post, and I’ll assign you a letter. You write about ten things you love that begin with your assigned letter, and post it at your place. When people comment on your list, you give them a letter, and the chain continues on and on. 

My letter is M. (lalana went easy on me!) I will attempt to refrain from saying “Master’s ______” for every spot, but I make no guarantees.

1. Master (Obvious choice, I know. But if you ask me about things I love, he is number one. Everything else is going in no particular order.  But Master gets the top spot, for always and in all ways.)

2. Masochism (Or, wait. Maybe I hate it. Hrm… I never can tell.)

3. Marriage (I really, really want to get married. REALLY. Gimmie.)

4. Mmmmm (Okay, okay. It’s not a word or an object or a person or even an idea. It’s a sound. But I love it when it comes out of my Master.)

5. Manic Street Preachers/Mogwai/Morrissey/Muse – MUSIC! (I don’t know where I’d be without it. Everything from the music my parents played, to my embarrassing taste in music in jr. high school, to just listening to my brother play his guitar. Music is amazing.)

6. Midnight (This is my clever way of saying I’m not a morning person. I prefer the late hours to the early ones. BY FAR. I love the dark and the stars and the ability for midnight to be calm and alone, or frenzied and amazing.)

7. Mercy (I’ve needed it, much more than I can express. I’ve gotten it, and it’s more than I deserve.)

8. March (My birthday is in March, and my birthday is something I have only recently learned to love.)

9. Master’s Scent (This is cheating with the “M” thing. I know it is. I just fail to care. There is something about the way he smells… It’s intoxicating. I can smell him everywhere, and no one else seems to be able to smell him like I do. It’s like his scent was made specifically for me to experience, and it shines stronger than anything else. If he holds a piece of Tupperware? I can smell him on it. I absolutely fucking LOVE the way he smells.)

10. Me (Okay, fine. This one isn’t 100% true.  But I know I’m getting there, and I know the man responsible for it.)

On a random note…

Guess who started boilermaker tailgate chili at stupid o’clock in the morning today…

Guess who was busy last night cutting up all the ingredients so it would be ready to dump in the crock pot this morning, and got fucking capsaicin from the jalapeños on two of her fingers and her cheek and was in miserable, burny, can’t-wash-it-off, won’t-go-away pain…

Guess who immediately thought to herself “Hmmm, I bet this could be put to use elsewhere!” and had to quell a strong desire to test the effects of capsaicin on more sensitive skin…

Wait…

WHY ARE YOU ALL LOOKING AT ME?!?

It totally wasn’t me.

Pffft.

…

…

(But really.  Has anyone tried that?  Is it as horrible/awesome as I’m thinking it would be?  Someone needs to share.  Or someone needs to “let it slip” to their Master they omg-so-wanna-try-it, and THEN share.  It’s in the name of science, people.  Or, well, okay, it’s not.  But whatever, it sounded good. Science FTW!)

Something I wrote last time got me thinking. (Yes, that’s right.  I inspire myself.  Nothing to be ashamed of!)

“I guess maybe there’s some Super Secret Sub Club I never got invited to join, where everyone feels special for slinging unnecessary letters, capitals, and dashes in the middle of plural pronouns, but… For me, this blog is not about isolation from the vanilla world, or the world of people involved in BDSM who are not internet savvy. *shrug* That really could be just me, so this could be this is all a lost idea. It could be many people in the lifestyle blog publically, yet specifically don’t want anyone who doesn’t already share their exact point of view or doesn’t already know internet jargon to hear them. I mean, okay, cool. That’s just not me.”

This blog is, in part, a display of my dedication to this lifestyle. And, as I was saying in the last post, I think the practice of messing up English is actually counterproductive when trying to express how very deeply I am committed.  But also, it’s a hindrance to people outside the lifestyle who may be trying to read.

I have many goals. Antonio has many goals for me. None of them involve becoming part of an esoteric group content to alienate the vanilla world. I say that with a bit of an edge, don’t I? I don’t think I mean it quite like that… I just believe pretty strongly in this idea of inclusive blogging.

I believe that one day we (those involved in BDSM, to any degree) will not be the underground freaks a lot of the world thinks we are. And make no mistake, they think we are. Large public gatherings that are about the lifestyle are viewed as spectacles, not demonstrations or marches or parties or anything with a ring of “take me seriously.”  We are viewed as spectacles.

We are on the fringe.  We are in the shadows. We are a bit of a sideshow. Not to everyone, of course. And perhaps it’s gotten better. But in ways, it’s gotten worse. Because with the over-sexualization of the lifestyle on the internet, the promotion of that BDSM agenda, other people have a harder and harder time seeing it as anything MORE than that.

They still see us as a fringe group. But efforts to put ourselves in the public eye have often ended up putting whips and chains in the public eye, not theories on relationship dynamics. The outsiders look at the public face of BDSM and see the frills, the hype, and the sex as our core. To me, collars and leather are not the core of this beautiful life I lead. Love and trust and a matching (and fulfilling) of different needs is the core. But, of course, that’s not what’s glorified. And I admit, folding laundry and cooking and training myself to bite my tongue and finding solace in simple acts is not all that glorious to anyone but me. So here I am. On the fringe.

But the strides some other fringe groups have made in the recent past, such as gay and lesbian community, are very promising. And, from watching their battle, I think there is something to be said for the idea of what I’m going to call “forceful prudence.”

I should just be blunt. It might not be one of my better qualities, but it sure is one I’m good at.

What I’m saying is… For example, in the gay community, the drag queens of the world will not be the ones winning the fight for gay adoption or marriage rights. I’m not saying drag queens are in the wrong, or they SHOULDN’T be allowed to have these rights, nor am I saying all drag queens are gay, etc. etc. etc. Of course not. I’m hoping everyone who reads this can follow my logic without attributing false prejudices to me.  I’m just trying to make a point…

Anyway, the homosexual couples or individuals breaking ground are the ones who say: “Look. This is a relationship preference, not a sexual deviance, or something that negatively colors my daily life in society. I am a normal human who wears normal human clothes and has a normal job. My relationship is based on love and respect and the meeting of needs that forms whole, satisfied people. It is a BIT different than yours, but guess what? I’m still like you! I like the same movies, I read the same books, and I vote in the same elections. I can raise stunning children, and I pick my nose when no one is looking. So relax, and don’t look at me like that when I hold hands with my partner in public. No people, children, or animals were harming in the joining of these hands. I promise.”

It’s the inclusive public behaviors that lead to acceptance, not the strange and unnecessary public behaviors.  Show them what’s the same before you show them what’s different.  Basically…

You want someone to cross a river of difference, judgment, prejudice, and fear? You have to show them the bridge before you worry about showing them the glories of your banks.

I understand there is a fine line between presenting my world with discretion to those who don’t understand it and the idea that I “have” to hide who I really am in order to talk about myself. I get that, I get that distinction. I believe forceful prudence is on the right side of that line.

My goal is to talk about the lifestyle as a whole. Honestly and completely. As such, I’m not for the over-sexualizing, the entirely kink-centric blogs (I’m not saying there isn’t a time and a place for the pure-kink kind of blogs. There is. I’m just not interested. To me, that’s like saying I want to talk about a relationship, and just posting a lot of porn. That’s not a relationship. That’s sex.), and I’m not for sprinkling useless junk like “W/we” everywhere that isolates me instead of promotes me as intelligent and approachable.

I should say… I’m not looking for personal acceptance here. I’m looking for a broader acceptance. That is my overall goal. Will I see it reached? Likely not. But I’m okay with just being on the right side of the struggle, even if I don’t see the outcome.

It’s just that not everyone who blogs about BDSM lifestyles seems to want the lifestyle accepted. Some definitely do. I think some just think they do. But you know what they say about actions and words. And I guess that disappoints me a little. It shouldn’t. There’s no mandate that says people have to serve a purpose higher than themselves. But I’m an imperfect creature, and I admit it bothers me a little.

There are blogs I love, of course. The ones I read tend to be by intelligent people who examine themselves and their lifestyle and how both of those things fit into the world. These bloggers also indulge in silliness and personal stories and they make me smile and laugh just as often as they make me think. They are warm and smart, strong yet vulnerable, and overall – very cool people. And I so badly want to be a part of that energy, that community. I think that’s the community that will be the change they wish to see in the world.

I am terrified when I hear things about kids being taken away, about people being shunned or run out of town, of families torn apart over BDSM. It reminds me a bit of the uphill battle that the gay and lesbian community has been fighting, and in a lot of cases (though, fuck everyone who voted Yes on Prop 8), winning. I think we can win our battle too. I think we deserve to. I think, as with every type of relationship, there are perversions and abuse and people who are bad for each other and possibly just bad for the world. But I think there is so much good here, that this is worth a more accepted position in societal consciousness.

The trouble I see is that the “face” of BDSM today is entirely sexualized. Entirely. It’s about bondage and fetish gear and sex sex sex. I can see why it’d be so hard to swallow for a lot of the rest of the world. I’ve done the google searches and I GET that. I get how it all comes across as freaky porn. I see what a lot of people see when they think “BDSM.”  I see the soundbyte version. I see the nude models in the fetish gear, the chains and the perfect lipstick, the wide, bright eyes, the brutal sex ruling all. I see the public mascots. And they disgust me.

But say I’d grown up in a family with parents who were into BDSM – say my parents’ relationship had been like mine is. They wouldn’t have told me about the sex part, of course, but they operated in a way that was very traditional. Dad was The Boss, and Mom stayed at home and catered to him. Nothing happened without his say-so. And one day, I discovered that not all relationships were like that. Some people, *gasp* didn’t live like that! So I went around looking for descriptions of this lifestyle. And all I found was a bunch of vapid porn stars and pre-fab writing about the joys of gang bangs? I’d be just as disgusted.

So I guess I’m saying I don’t blame people for looking down on BDSM. I choose to blame myself for, thus far in my life, not really giving them anything in BDSM to look up to.  I want to do my part, however small it ends up being, to change that in myself, and maybe help tip the balance just slightly more in the direction I want it to go.  I won’t call it the "right" direction, becuase lord knows I don’t have what it takes (namely, divinity) to pick and chose right and wrong on such a scale… But it’s the direction I want it to go…

Hrm…

This post feels so meandering and vague. I feel like I have so much to say, and my words have all run for cover between my teeth, or all the syllables took detours in my throat and ended up in my sinuses. I feel blocked and unclear.  I know how to present an idea. I just don’t quite know how to make a solid case for putting it into action.

Better get to work, Chlo.

EDITED TO ADD:  I always feel like I’m painfully unclear…  Does anyone else feel the need to qualify half the things they say in order to be clear?  I do.  Anyway… I just wanted to say in likening the struggle of the gay and lesbian community to the struggle of someone wanting BDSM to find a place in the mainstream beyond shock and porn, I wasn’t attempting to liken the struggles THAT tightly.  They have vaslty different goals and issues, different paths that are of different lengths and with different obstacles.

Guess what, guys, I’m submissive.

I realize this may be coming as a shock.

Why might you be shocked?  Well, because I don’t slaughter the written word in order to demonstrate my submission.

I don’t refer to myself as “i” nor do I refer to Antonio with capitalized pronouns. Unless he’s starting a sentence or I’m using a title or proper noun (like Antonio or Master), Antonio gets he, him, and his.

Now, I know not every submissive blogger commits these Heinous Grammar Crimes, but enough do to make me want to toss my computer across the room every once in a while.

I was not primarily indoctrinated into BDSM “culture” online, so I wasn’t all hip to the net-lingo. When I first started lurking in lifestyle blogs, I kid you not it took me two solid days to figure out what in the hell stuff like “W/we” meant. It just looked… Confusing. I think I said aloud at one point, to my computer screen, “What… The bloody hell… Is THAT about?”  One, because it’s just off-putting and makes it impossible to follow someone’s train of thought, and two, because sometimes I like to pretend I’m British.

(And let me just say right now… I am a firm believer in typos, I enjoy using improper grammar when proper grammar would sound insane, I think spelling the word “seriously” without vowels is a stroke of genius, the phrase “liek woah” used in all its internet glory makes me giggle, and, okay, I indulge in occasional lolcat’ing.)

But one reason I started keeping a blog is because I believe in communication. Productive, open, intelligent, public communication.

I have a love (that is bordering on reverence) for the English language and its ability to educate and unite people and ideas across vast distances and mind frames. And I truly hate to see this language butchered, especially in public.

Yes, that’s right, I’m the chick in the restaurant pointing out to the waiter that a misspelled word appears on the menu, the girl who corrects her professor’s grammar on exam questions, and the neurotic bitch who won’t stand in “10 items or less” lines because the flagrant misuse of “less” makes her want to vomit. Sue me.

But really, ask yourself, if you were trying to communicate in real life with English speakers from all walks of life and hoping to get them to listen to you, would you use loads of private slang, a regional dialect, and a heavy accent?  No.  So why, when you write in a public arena such as the internet, attempting to communicate with English speakers from all walks of life and hoping to get them to listen to you, are you pulverizing rules of capitalization? (And grammar and spelling and syntax, but those seem less submission-related.) Think about TV newscasters. There is a REASON that across the country, they ALL speak the exact same way, in what I’ve always called “region-free dialect.”  And before I begin nerdily obsessing over that… I’ll sum up this point: Communication across broad ranges, like TV or the internet, is done well ONLY when it’s done in a universal way. Period.

I guess maybe there’s some Super Secret Sub Club I never got invited to join, where everyone feels special for slinging unnecessary letters, capitals, and dashes in the middle of plural pronouns, but… For me, this blog is not about isolation from the vanilla world, or the world of people involved in BDSM who are not internet savvy. *shrug* That really could be just me, so this could be this is all a lost idea. It could be many people in the lifestyle blog publically, yet specifically don’t want anyone who doesn’t already share their exact point of view or doesn’t already know internet jargon to hear them. I mean, okay, cool. That’s just not me. (Another post on this idea to come soon, I can FEEL it… But back to the topic at hand…)

Simple fact is, the first of these two is clearer than the second:

•   My Master and I went to the store, where we bought apples to make ourselves a pie.
•   my Master and i went to the store, where W/we bought apples to make O/ourselves a pie.

I completely understand capitalizing titles. Those become proper nouns. Master, Sir, Owner, etc. If they are used in the place of a name (like “And then Master opened the door.”) it makes perfect sense to capitalize the title “Master.” Even though it makes less sense, I understand it even when it’s preceded by a possessive pronoun such as “my” or “your.” But still, I’m okay with it there – it makes sense for continuity, and it’s used more as a name than strictly a title.

However, it makes no sense whatsoever to make “I” lowercase, or to use multiple letters with different capitalizations to express basic plural pronouns such as “W/we.”

Sorry, no.  Epic Fail.

It reminds me of the text-type and internet-type flooding the online and wireless worlds of today. It all comes across as unreadable, uneducated, and obnoxious. Basically, the precise opposite of how I’d like to come across.

On a personal level, Antonio highly values my intelligence, my command of the English language, and my ability to express myself acutely and accurately. So, even if it were simply to show that I want to promote qualities within myself that are pleasing to him, I refuse to jeopardize those skills, in public or private.

To me, being clear and correct can actually be taken as an act of submission – of molding myself to embody traits that my Master respects and desires – to be precise and accurate in my written endeavors, to convey my intelligence and clarity. (Or, as I like to call it, my inimitable verbal prowess. *rawr*)

He wants me to shine. I want to shine for him. I do not want to look stupid or unclear, because it would reflect poorly on him. And that is a big NO.

If anyone out there has a Master who wants her to look uneducated or does not care if she communicates clearly with her audience, well, I’d understand the disregard for basic rules of English grammar in that case. There really would be submission in the act then. So in that case, go for it and go for it hard! Likewise, if he feels capitalization errors are a Very Important Symbol of Submission, and typing like a 12-year-old in AIM is somehow deeply subservient, okay, fine. Serve on, subs!

(Have I mentioned that I am mature and sweet every single minute of every single day, and I am never ever a snarky wench? Well, at this juncture, I think everyone needs reminding of that.  I’m a class act.)

Anyway, messing up basic grammar serves no purpose, not that I can see. I am no more submissive for looking like I can’t type, and I am no less submissive for using proper capitalization. And as I said before, I am possibly MORE submissive for writing correctly, as it is an exercise in presenting myself well.  So, if I were doing it? It would just be muddling my writing and my point.  Yours too, as far as I’m concerned.

That’s not to say I am not in favor of symbolizing submission, or even doing submissive things in public. I like displaying my subservient side just as much as the next proud slave.  My symbols just have to MATTER. 

I suppose some would say this does matter… They’d say this kind of typing is a subtle reminder of their submission.  For me, every time I type “him” or “he” when talking about Antonio, I am flooding with thoughts and feelings about him.  And those thoughts are are not magically magnified by the addition of the Shift key.  The Shift key holds no power over me.  Neener neener, Mr. Shift. 

As many things do, it comes down to a pros and cons list for me.  Even if I managed to subtly associate typing incorrectly with being submissive?  Would that be WORTH the price of being unclear, worth the price of displaying myself as less competent than I really am, and thus reflecting poorly on my Master?  Nope.  Not even close to worth it.

My purpose in writing anything I put in a public arena is to communicate clearly and effectively.  So I guess my question is – isn’t that your purpose too?

So why are you writing like that?

Does it actually demonstrate your inferiority to your Master/Sir/Owner or does it just demonstrate your inferiority to a first grader?

Honestly, do you think you would you somehow be acting dominating by writing things correctly?  Really?

Can’t we, as submissives or slaves (Masters too, if they are mandating this silliness), think of a better way to show our submission than sabotaging our own communication efficacy?

Just a thought. (Or, well, let’s call it a “question,” because I am honestly curious now.  Someone needs to answer me!  I MUST know!)

I wrote the following post on Monday.  My entire world feels like it’s collapsed since then.  Literally.  Trust me when I say the least depressing thing that’s happened is that I’m probably going to have to go round up my grandmother’s cats and take them to be euthanized.  No kidding, that’s been the LEAST shitty thing in my life in the past few days.  I feel that bad, that lost, that dark, that scared.  But, for now, we’re moving swiftly along to talking about sex with animals.

(Best transition ever?  Yes, my friends, best transition ever…)

                                                                                 *     *     *     *     * 

As I usually do, when I logged onto the computer and saw that Kaya had posted, I had a hundred heart attacks and squealed like a third-grade school girl read calmly. This time, it was this post on the argument people were apparently having over on FetLife about bestiality and consent.

(If anyone actually reads this post of mine, you may want to read Kaya’s post first. One, because she rocks my world, and two, because it might help my post make more sense… By no means do I guarantee my post will make sense. I’m just saying it might help.)

My reactions to her post (in order of appearance):

• Man, logic is such a bitch.
• I really have to post my FetLife post one of these days. Maybe I should wait until I’m sure people actually read this blog… Hrm.
• Bestiality is wrong. Wrong wrong wrong.
• Huh. I don’t actually have an argument based on logic about WHY I feel that way.
• Must assault Antonio.
• *talks to Master for a bit*
• I should comment on Kaya’s post!  I love Tess!  She cares deeply what I have to say and would be thoroughly thrilled to engage in conversation with me!
• *352 words later*
• Er, scratch that. She definitely doesn’t care that much. In fact, I have the feeling that “care” MAY be a product of my imagination…

Like I said, my first reaction to the actual topic was simply “Bestiality is wrong.”  Then I started thinking about the people over on FetLife who felt the same way I do, yet were actually debating about it.  That blew my mind.  It doesn’t seem like a topic for debate. (She says without a trace of irony as she hits publish…)

I take issue with some sexual behaviors on what I call a "natural level" kind of way… Bestiality, necrophilia, incest, and pedophilia are The Big Four.

Other things I take issue with on a personal level. For example, scat play. But while my brain shouts "OH, HELL NAW!" in its best Will-Smith-in-I,Robot impression, I know others dig it and that’s cool for them. Enjoy your poop, people.

Bestiality, necrophilia, incest, and pedophilia, though? I think they’re just wrong. Wrong for me. Wrong for everyone. I make no apologies for that belief and I am not about to feel all shaky about my insistence that it’s not okay to have sex with corpses simply because someone else has crafted an argument about why it “is” okay.  It’s not okay.  The End.

I know some people disagree with me on my natural-level issues. Hell, there are entire forums dedicated to Genetic Sexual Attraction (GSA, says google), and there are clearly a lot of people who have sex with animals and see no problem with it.

I do see a problem with it. But I’ve NEVER seen the need to discuss it on a systematic level, or have a logical argument about it. To me, it’s an ethical, moral, gut-level issue, not an issue of logic and policy.

I see no need to engage.

If I did engage, it would be as if I claimed I was deeply religious and yet would get on a forum and actively engage in a debate about “Can God make a stone so big he can’t lift it?” Honestly, if I were that religious, I’d realize divine powers are a BIT above the level of semantic arguments, ffs.

ANYWAY… I poked Antonio and asked him if he could read Kaya’s post. Then we talked about things, and while he agreed with me wholeheartedly about my “it’s not an issue of logic” feelings, he didn’t let me know at the start. In fact, because he likes to see me squirm, he said “So, tell me – why is it okay to eat an animal and not fuck it?”

And while I mulled, thinking he wanted logic, I was left thinking about how logic always seems to invite trouble, and invite people to think you’re saying things you aren’t saying.

Because logic is a total bitch.  So, while I don’t think I’d ever feel the need to go onto a discussion board and defend my views… It’s actually kind of fun to think about the logic-level of it.  I’ve never done it before, and it kind of amuses me.

Logic, in these cases, is basically the practice of creating “personal laws” that should then, by definition, be generalizeable. (Incidentally, why does my spell-check think “generalizeable” is not a word?  I’ve used it a billion times in research papers.  It’s a fucking word.)  Anyway, the thing is, it’s easy to formulate personal laws that work perfectly well within the construct of a singular idea, but don’t extend outward properly. And that’s when logic becomes flawed.

For instance… In Kaya’s post, one of the things she’s saying (I think) is that people who do most anything to/with an animal can’t use the concept of consent as an argument against bestiality, because they do things to animals without their consent all the time. From feeding (or not feeding) them, picking their housing and walking them as pets, to eating them as food, to testing them as laboratory subjects. All without consent. So no one who has any connection to that stuff can really say “But, not sex because the animal can’t consent!” since they do a host of other things without consent. So, boom, consent is a non-argument.

And it seems like a decent logical argument at first…

But a flaw there (as I see it) is that not all forms of consent are the same. And if that “they-can’t-use-consent” logic-train is to be boarded, then… Maybe not the next station, but a ways down the track, you’ll have people getting off^*** and saying pedophilia is just as inarguable as bestiality for anyone who disciplines, chooses food, shelter, schooling, medication etc. for a child without their consent.  (And, just to cover my bases, the argument of “But everyone can agree these things you do without consent for a child are GOOD for the child so it’s different when it’s something bad!” doesn’t work here, because there are plenty of legally A-okay practices that many would feel are downright disgusting.  Feeding Ritalin to a young child, for example.)

It’s like saying if you breed a particular kind of dog (even though the government allows people to breed animals) if the animal didn’t give consent and you do it anyway, you can no longer argue against people having sex with animals on a consent level… So then, in turn, you could say if you give a child Ritalin (even though it’s doctor’s orders) if the child doesn’t give consent and you do it anyway, you can no longer argue against people having sex with children on a consent level.

See? Logic is a bitch, innit?

This is why I see no need for logic or discussion here.  It’s not about that, not for me.

Logic in this instance, is just getting in the way, muddling things up.  It leaves you trying to say that consent for one thing is equal to consent for another, and it’s just not. It’s perfectly okay to think that consent is not a universal term. It’s fine for me to say “A child/animal cannot legally consent to sex, and thus sex with a child/animal is wrong,” all while I’m forcing my child/animal into the bath tub to take a bath while they whine and cry and flail and try to hurt me because, omg, they don’t want to do it and they do not give consent.

No, I can’t get consent for either thing. But I’m not asking for the same kind of consent, nor does my position in the world or lives of the creatures demand I receive consent for certain situations, but it does for others. 

And, in some cases, such as sex?  We define consent as simply NOT being able to be given.  If a kid says he or she “wants” to perform a sexual activity on an adult?  Sorry, doesn’t matter, it’s still not okay.  A child CANNOT give consent so even if they “willingly” engage in the activity?  It’s WRONG.  Period.  (And I think that may be what people mean when they say “But an animal cannot give consent.”  Not that an animal can’t appear to, but, as with children, that we cannot accept that as true consent, ever ever ever, and the activity will still be deplorable.)  It makes sense to me too.  Animals could appear to “want” something, and to try to get things, you could even train them to engage in sexual activities with humans, and I still believe those animals do not have the capacity to give full, legal, and morally-bound consent.  I just don’t.  Others might, I don’t.

So I believe anyone can think it’s okay to not get consent for bath time, and think it’s not okay to have sex with a child/animal. The two things, the two consents, are NOT mutually exclusive to me.  Consent can still be an argument against sex even if you don’t seek it in other areas. Sweeping logic will try, and may even appear, to eliminate that but I think that’s flawed.

(Consent isn’t, as it happens, really my big issue with human-animal sex. But still, I don’t think it’s incapable of being anyone else’s issue, even if they enjoy eating animals.)

Hrm…

I suppose I could try to be logical about my natural issues with The Big Four, and spout a lot of stuff about survival of the species, dominant species, the natural order of things… Talk about how we’re human. How, whether it’s to eat for nourishment, to test products on to make sure things are safe for humans first, for protection, for status, for labor, etc., the USE of animals without their consent aids humankind and it gets the thumbs up from a biological point of view. But how things like beating animals or having sex with them could actually be classified as anti-survival for various reasons… How healthy humans breed the need to hone and foster survival skills, and to squash the anti-survival behaviors. How it’s not logical, it’s human nature. Survival of the fittest, survival goals, etc. etc. etc.

But, then, lord knows people would be taking my words, generalizing my “personal laws,” grabbing some logic and smearing it around, and would decide I’d have been the jerk tossing babies off the cliffs in Sparta. Why? Because logic, very clearly, is a bitch. 

Big Love to Kaya, for always making me think.

***Upon rereading I realized that’s officially The Worst Pun in The History of Ever. Incidentally, I refuse to take it out.

I was thinking about that post on faith…

And maybe I was wrong. Sort of.

Not in that I trust my Master with bigger things, and I exercise that trust more completely, more so even than if it were he and I in a vanilla relationship… That’s still true. I still think our dynamic elevates our trust, and our displays of faith in each other.

But maybe it’s not as simple as just elevated levels of trust.

Because I see vanilla couples who treat things like infidelity as stumbling blocks in their relationship. They survive it. They find out a partner is using drugs, and they work through it. They discover their partner has been communicating with an old flame, and they seem to accept that a partner would hide that, and then they fight about it, and eventually make up.

And I’m not saying Antonio and I would simply say, “Ah, man… You have an addiction? Well, it’s been a good run. Take care, and have a nice life. Bye!”

I just think… Well, hell, this is hard to put into words so it makes sense.

I just think if he and I had something on the same level of dishonesty as infidelity on our hands, our relationship would be beyond saving. Because we have these elevated uses of faith, breaches in our foundations of trust affect us more seriously. When you have more displays of intense faith, more things riding on your foundation of trust, the strength and integrity of that faith-foundation is more vital. The littlest cracks in that foundation are bigger problems, because so much more weight is resting on it.

Take for instance, on the simplest level, a trip to a store. To buy, um, a mug. (Try to bear with the crappy analogy…) Let’s say I broke a mug, a favorite of Antonio’s that I shouldn’t have been touching, and I got that little-girl fear and wanted to replace it without him noticing. So I went to the store, bought a new one, and replaced it. And let’s say he asked what I’d done that day, and I purposely left that little shopping excursion out of my report of daily activities. And then, say he found the receipt and figured it out.

He’d be pissed. I would have lied about where I went. And regardless of my reasons, I’d have lied and that would have been an issue. In another relationship, if I’d done that, he’d have no real reason to be pissed about it to the same degree. I didn’t say I DIDN’T go to the store, and I’m human, I’m my own person, I’m allowed to hide little things. White lies are a bit more commonplace (or, at least, they have been in my experience.) The little things, the little lies, the lies by omission about simple things, might not matter as much. But I think in my relationship, that little lie would have been a big deal. (Not huge, I imagine, but… Still something we’d have focused on and discussed and I’d have been punished for.) In another relationship, it might have just… Slid away.

That was a lame example and didn’t quite convey what I was trying to say. But I’m hoping you get my meaning.

Basically, I’m just musing… I guess it seems since we rely so much on our faith, because we test it so often, with such big things, it’s easier to break. It carries more weight than the average couple, and a smaller moment of dishonesty could have far more serious consequences, could leave far bigger marks. And something that wouldn’t break another couple could break us.

So does that make us weaker and unrealistic, if smaller things could break us apart? Or does it make us stronger and purer, since we expect more of each other? Is it unforgiving, and static, in the face of human nature, and human mistake? Or does raising the bar force us to rise to the challenge? Does the bigger burden on our foundation just give us a larger chance for failure, or does it necessitate added strength, and it allows us to grow deeper trust that will be strong enough to overcome anything?

Maybe we have an equal chance of falling on either side of the “this or that” equations. Maybe it just depends on how it’s handled. Hrm.

I tried to tell one of my girlfriends how power exchange increased trust between Antonio and me, and she took it as an insult. She responded with a VERY huffy, “Yeah? Well my boyfriend trusts me to actually make decisions for myself.”

*handface*

Needless to say, I was a little frustrated. And I know this lifestyle isn’t everyone’s idea of bliss, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to back down from this belief of elevated levels of trust. At least for me.

Faith is a muscle, and if you don’t use it, it atrophies.

In the context of my relationship, I exercise the hell out of my faith. I use, stretch, and test my trust in my Master on a daily basis, simply by the nature of how we interact.

(Btw, forgive me if I use “her” for submissive partners and “him” for dominant ones. I’m not trying to say that’s how it is or should be – it’s just how it is in my relationship, and it’s a LOT easier than saying “him/her” yanno?)

I know plenty of women (and men) in vanilla relationships who claim complete faith in their partners. But I know if seeds of doubt are planted – if they merely saw raised eyebrows from someone at the mention of infidelity – suspicion would be running rampant. And if someone outright said a partner was a cheater? These people would start snooping. They would scroll through the received calls on their significant other’s cell phone, take a peek at emails if they were left open (or maybe even if they weren’t), or start second-guessing when he or she goes “out for a drink with friends.”

A lot of people don’t seem to even need the suggestion that their partner might be straying to do that stuff. Sad, but true. They just assume their partner is not totally honest with them. I have the sneaking suspicion that’s because they are not totally honest with their partner.

Now, I’m not saying every vanilla couple always comes equipped with an unfaithful man and a mistrusting woman, or vice versa. And I’m not saying they are incapable of deep trust. Of course not.

I’m just saying I see mistrust in a lot of vanilla relationships, and that sort of basic mistrust is truly not an option in mine. And it’s because of the dominance and submission that I am not able to ever claim I have a level of trust I don’t truly possess.

Because in a vanilla relationship, I could say, “I trust you with my life.” But to say it in my relationship, I’m going to have to get blindfolded and bound and continue that thought with, “And now, I’m going to prove it.”

I don’t see it as just me, either. In sexual BDSM relationships, some of the harder, kinkier scenes involve incredible levels of faith. Both during and (sometimes more importantly) after.

During a scene, someone might be tied up, cuffed, blindfolded, gagged, chained in place, etc. And faced with pain, torture, mindfucks, solitude, or all of the above. The sub/slave/bottom has to trust the dominant partner to know her, to listen to her and respond accordingly (or know when to not respond at all), and not to harm her permanently.

That’s a hell of a lot of trust.

And of course the dominant has to trust the submissive. Consider a rape scene. During the scene, the submissive will have to trust her partner, obviously (or, I suppose, be a raging moron). But after the scene, the dominant has to essentially trust his life and reputation to his submissive. She could run, bruised and bloodied, to a police station. And with his skin under her nails, her body bruised and used, and his semen inside her, she could scream rape as loud as she wanted. And her dominant could be branded as a sexual predator. If it went to court and he went to jail, he’d have to register as a sex offender everywhere he lived for the rest of his life.

That’s a hell of a lot of trust too.

Trust in the bedroom is just one example. It exists (and sometimes translates) to the rest of my relationship, and to me, that’s the beautiful part. To know I can literally place my life in my Master’s hands means I can trust him implicitly in every aspect of our relationship.

If I saw raised eyebrows, or heard someone say my Man was a cheater, I could just smile and confidently say, “No. He isn’t.” That’s an incredible gift. And I believe it comes directly from my relationship dynamic.

Anyway, I was just a teensy bit irritated with that comment my friend made… I had to vent because she didn’t want to hear it, and you people don’t have a choice!

I bet I could find a lot of blog posts about this from the BDSM point of view.  But the truth is, I haven’t really looked.  But I do read lalana’s blog regularly.  And she talked about Twilight by Stephenie Meyer, briefly. And linked to HSMom’s post about it.  Which prompted me to remember “Hey!  I ranted about Twilight to Antonio!” 

Then I made the classic leap from “I’ve thought about this…” cleanly into “Clearly I MUST share my ramblings with the internet!”

I fear my logic may be crumbling there. (She says as though that’s ever stopped her…)

FYI, most of this was written to Antonio, after I had only read the first book.  So I don’t think there are any spoilers beyond book one. 

(ASIDE:  If you haven’t read Twilight, and don’t have the time/energy/desire to read the whole thing, or you just want to read an intensely hilarious chapter-by-chapter parody of it, go here.  That’s shinga’s livejournal and that parody makes me stupidly happy.)

Anyway… Twilight… 

My first thought was “Huh… Is it just me, or does it reads like a twisted BDSM primer for teenagers?”  Only… You know… Plus supernatural beings and minus any semblance of level-headed, open, honest talk about relationship dynamics.

I’ve noticed many people have judged the relationship between Mary Sue Bella and Edward as simply misogynistic, and I was intrigued. 

Maybe eighty pages in, I started noticing things…

When I reached his table, I stood behind the chair across from him, unsure.
"Why don’t you sit with me today?" he asked, smiling.
I sat down automatically.
[...]
He smiled again, and then he changed the subject. "I think your friends are angry with me for stealing you."
"They’ll survive." I could feel their stares boring into my back.
"I might not give you back, though," he said with wicked glint in his eye.
I gulped.
He laughed. "You look worried."
"No," I said, but, ridiculously, my voice broke.
(pp. 87-88)

Nothing big.  Not really… It just stirred something in me. 

Later, Bella gets sick at school after seeing blood. Edward sees her being taken to the nurse by another boy. He literally picks her up and carries her there himself, sending the other guy away. She shouts to be put down, multiple times. All ignored. Then she wants to go home, on her own, but he insists she go with him. To highlight that insistence, he physically DRAGS her to the car. She thinks about escaping and he promises to drag her back if she tries.

Legally, I’m fairly sure that amounts to kidnapping.  But Edwards is beautiful and it’s OMG TRUE LOVE, so it’s fine – just fine – apparently.  Even though, you know, they barely know each other and aren’t together or anything.  They just secretly love each other.  Except Bella actually thinks Edward DOESN’T love her at that point.  Uh, right.

In basic phrasing, Edward is overtly domineering. For example, even when he uses "please" it’s clear he’s not asking:

"Distract me, please," he ordered.
(p. 163)

Also, how Bella doesn’t "realize’" something until Edward commands she does it: 

"Drink," he ordered.
I sipped at my soda obediently, and then drank more deeply, surprised by how thirsty I was.
(p. 169)

For some reason, that one REALLY stuck with me.  

It’s that “I don’t know what I want until HE tells me,” situation, you know?  Hell, I experience that.  And I love it!  But victims of certain crimes eventually experience the same thing.  The difference, always, is consent, which (look, here I go finally getting to my point…) I never saw. 

I saw (eventual) affirmations of love, I saw rebellion on Bella’s part, I saw Edward struggle with his rage and desire to control and kill her… But I never saw Bella go “It’s okay for you to tell me what to do, to prevent me from seeing people, to have stalked me, etc.  I like that, and I want you to do it” in any concrete way.

(BTW, if anyone reading this saw consent, or has a theory like… Like I’m simply seeing through my own lens, because I AM in the lifestyle, and my interpretation is colored by that, please share!)

Another example is when Bella attempts to place conditions on a conversation with Edward. He warns her (with tone) that he’s absolutely not one to suffer provisions from the likes of her…

"I’ll tell you about it in the car. If…" I paused.
"There are conditions?" He raised one eyebrow, his voice ominous.
(p. 172)

(I swear, that line could come right out of the start of a BDSM story/fic/fantasy… Or whatever they’re called…)

And when Edward offers her a choice about something? She’s genuinely shocked he’s letting her make a decision all by her little self!

"Do you want to ride with me today?" he asked, amused by my expression as he caught me by surprise yet again. There was uncertainty in his voice. He was really giving me a choice – I was free to refuse…
(p. 197)

(FYI – EVERYTHING I’ve quoted thus far happens before page 200 and before they are really together as a couple… Yeah…)

Anyway, it made me think…

First, I don’t know that much about the Mormon faith, but my first thought was that perhaps Meyer’s faith follows the belief (or a belief similar to) Christian headship in marriage. (If you don’t know what that is, it’s summed up pretty well, direct from the source, in Ephesians 5:22-33.)

So I figured, hell, if that’s what the author is going for, and it makes the characters happy… Rock on, Bella and Edward!  Christian headship FTW!

But then things like this, beginning on page 302:

"That suits me," he replied, his face relaxing into a gentle smile. "Bring on the shackles – I’m your prisoner." But his long hands formed manacles around my wrists as he spoke."

And for three solid pages (until they get interrupted and Edward literally HAS to let her go) he keeps her wrists locked in his hands, manipulating her position with his superhuman strength.  He spends the time engaging in light conversation, such as talking endlessly about his seething rage-like jealousy when other boys so much as talk to Bella, how it deeply bothers him he can’t know precisely what she is thinking (and I mean every SINGLE thought in her head – he can read all minds but Bella’s) at all times, and how he came to watch her sleep at night while he wrestled with his desire for her and/or to suck her blood and kill her.   Not so Christ-like, yanno?

I mean, okay, I’ve seen Secretary. And this all struck me as a little bit like that. Not the same, obviously. But with elements of obvious domination and submission in a work of fiction.

P.S. – did anyone else go “HA!  Both men are named Edward… Tee hee hee!”  No?  Am I the only total dork here?  Figures…)

(Spoiler Alert for the next two paragraphs. If you haven’t seen Secretary and don’t want to know anything about it, skip down please!)

I thought Secretary was done pretty well. It was very clearly a life-changing (arguably life-saving) discovery on the part of Maggie Gyllenhaal’s character, Lee, that she wanted to be in submission to a man, specifically Edward Grey. And it’s difficult for them both to swallow that they had an urge for a dynamic that seemed so not normal. So they really had to hash it out, battle back and forth with desire vs. decorum, to come to their version of (what I believe was inarguably) consent, mutual understanding, and a powerful love.

There was no scene where they sit down and talk over their dynamic, but there was the scene where Edward tells Lee that they can’t do this every day, and she says “Why not?” and then how she fights for the relationship (desk scene = <3) because she CLEARLY loves it and loves him and is a better person for it and knows he is too. And they wrap it all up with the ending of domestic bliss.

I think love and possession can be mingled. (Duh.) Some see it as Christian headship, some simply as a more traditional marriage/relationship, some as BDSM, some as a bunch of FancyPants, internet-savvy terms I’ve probably never even heard of. 

And that’s cool.  I don’t take issue with any of that. But I took issue with Twilight.

My problem, and it was a raging problem throughout the book, was where the hell was any acknowledgment or consent of this dynamic?

Edward clearly has a very dominant personality, and Bella seems so swept off her feet that she likes anything Edward does… But she does make attempts to rebel.  Part of her is screaming “No, no, no, don’t listen to your raging hormones, no, no, NO!” And she seems complacent and obedient in many cases after minor rebellions are shot down, or her rebellion disappoints or angers Edward, and I’m just…

I’m just left thinking "Okay, fine. You want to be controlled. Or, wait. Do you? Do you even know? If you don’t want it, and you suffer it for some other reason, some pathology or personal issue, this is abusive. If you do, then dammit, people have to talk about it in SOME way."

And, honestly… It wouldn’t matter.  It DOESN’T matter.  Not to me. 

BUT… My fear is that other people will be in my “Huh?” position or at least have something niggling at them.  Or, worse, they might not even be questioning the element of consent in the dynamic. And, since the “people” who read this book are mostly young teen girls, this sort of controlling behavior will be viewed by the millions of them, and they will be subconsciously inundated with swooning and thinking THAT dynamic is true love, and what a good man does, no matter what. It can be a part of a healthy, loving relationship, but in other cases, especially those with immature teenage boys and girls involved, it is abusive, controlling, and un-fucking-acceptable.

If Meyer wanted to confront EITHER dynamic – dominance and submission, or abuse, that’d be great. But to tread water just enough so she doesn’t have to address either? That’s just gutless, in my opinion, and potentially seriously damaging to her fans.  I was 13 once too.  And I didn’t have a fucking clue.  And I was impressionable.  And hormonal.  And confused.  And emotional.  And desperately searching for something, even though I didn’t know what. And…  Maybe I’m alone in that, but I don’t think so. 

And my fear of “girls not simply identifying but wanting to become” is, I think, very founded. Because the trouble with Bella is that she’s a complete shell of a character – empty and meaningless – designed specifically so ANY girl can "be" her. (I actually went to the author’s website today, after writing this, and Meyers even confirms it.)

So if you’ve ever wonder why the books are so successful with teenage girls, wonder no more.  It’s because Bella is pure, unadulterated cliché.  She is nothing more than a list of adjectives – “pretty” yet “insecure” and “plain” yet “alluring” and “feisty” yet oh-so-swoonily in love with her soulmate,  a vampire who is seemingly unattainable and is head and shoulders (and centuries) above the rest.

I’m not saying these books are going to single-handedly encourage teens to seek out abusers, not at all.  I’m just saying…  Well, I’m saying that it appears that teenage girls have a tendency to forget the definition of the word “fiction.”  Like, hardcore. That post is from a film blog, and its crassness aside, I think it sums it up VERY nicely just how DEEP teenagers get into this stuff.  (I’ve heard other, much worse, horror stories.  A woman named Rosalie who literally hunted down and married a man with the last name Cullen, girls wanting to get pregnant, etc.) If anyone was questioning my assertion that teenagers are really reading into these books, how unrealistic and warped their view becomes in the midst of this flock mentality and obsessive fandom?  Well, read that post or google around a bit.  I really think I’m right that some girls DO take it too far. 

Anyway… It just seems irresponsible and worrisome.  A big “TSK!” for Stephenie Meyer, thus far.

That’s right!  I don’t experience PMS!

Let me just revel in that while you ladies out there revel in seething hatred.

…

For a minute…

…

Or two…

…

And now…

…

 </jealousy>

You see, the reason I don’t have PMS is that I have PMDD (Premenstrual Dysmorphic Disorder) instead.  The super-great thing is I’m just figuring it out now.  As in, today.

No, the symptoms weren’t magically apparent just recently or anything, but I’m literally putting the pieces together right now.

For reference, here are the diagnostic criteria:

All of the symptoms need not be present and they may vary from month to month. At least 5 are required to make the diagnosis, including at least one of the first four.

1. Very depressed mood, feeling hopeless
2. Marked anxiety, tension, edginess
3. Sudden mood shifts (crying easily, extreme sensitivity)
4. Persistent, marked irritability, anger, increased conflicts
5. Loss of interest in usual activities work, school, socializing
6. Difficulty concentrating and staying focused
7. Fatigue, tiredness, loss of energy
8. Marked appetite change, overeating, food cravings
9. Insomnia (difficulty sleeping) or sleeping too much
10. Feeling out of control or overwhelmed
11. Physical symptoms such as weight gain, bloating, breast tenderness or swelling, headache, and muscle or joint aches and pains

(These are adapted from Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, Fourth Edition, Text Revision, 2000.)

When the DSM says “at least one of the top four” it means the top four are crucial, and usually the most severe. 

I have… Every. Single. One.

In the time leading up to my period, Antonio says I literally turn into a different person.  And it’s true.  I snap over nothing.  I cry constantly.   I see insults and fights in half of his words and actions, and while that’s different than me actively seeking fights, it lands me in the same place.

Then there are the random depressing things. Like the fact that I don’t even understand humor.  He makes jokes, and I can’t see them.  I get offended, I withdraw, I freak out. Sometimes, over him lovingly teasing me.  Antonio is stuck with a woman he would never want to spend any time with.  I am too; I’m stuck in this body that is raging beyond my control, and it hurts SO much to watch myself struggle and (try to) manipulate and hurt my Master.  I don’t want to do it.  I just feel like a caged, rabid animal.  I am unpredictable, insane, and always ready to attack.

Anyway…

I bring this up because I’m struggling with accepting what I might have to do to try to fix it.

I might have to go back on medication.

And while you’d think “Hey, it’s a hormone issue, so you’ll get hormones, what’s the big deal?”  That’s just not the case.  The FDA approved treatment for PMDD does include certain hormones (a specific birth control called YAZ), but the real treatment comes in the form of SSRIs.

For anyone who doesn’t know, SSRIs are Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors, and you may have heard about them because they are used, mainly, to treat depression.

I have heard of them one, because I’ve studied psychopharmacology, and two, I was already fucking ON them.  Grrrrrrr…

And THAT’S why I kept saying to Antonio over the months, “I really didn’t do this before I met you. I wasn’t always like this before my period.  This PMS is insane, and I swear I SWEAR it’s never been like this.  I don’t know what’s happening to me…”

Because I was on an SSRI (in fact, one of the four the FDA approves for PMDD, called Lexapro) for years.  I was taking it to treat depression.  And, unbeknownst to me or my doctors, it was simultaneously treating my PMDD.  No one knew I had PMDD, because it has been suppressed/treated for ages.

Now, though, it’s unbridled and MAN is it rearing its ugly fucking head.

(Incidentally, I want to smash its ugly head with a hammer.  Smash smash smash.)

All right…Onto my issues with treatment…

First, the SSRIs.  I have an issue with them for two reasons.  One because, stupidly, I am prideful.  I managed to get OFF all my medications, and I felt SO good.  SO proud.  And SO un-zombie-like.  And I don’t want to go back to feeling bad, ashamed, and zombie-like. Do Not Want.

Two, because of the side effects.  Decreased libido, anorgasmia… Aka, no desire for sex, and the inability to orgasm.  No-fucking-thank you.  Yeah, I’m here to be used by him and it isn’t about my pleasure.  But… It’s not the same for Antonio if I don’t crave use, and crave him.  It’s not as satisfying for him if I have zero interest in him sexually.  Obviously.

Then there is the YAZ. Which, at first seems like the lesser of the two evils.  But it is, in fact, MUCH worse.  It’s birth control.  Fabulous!  Except NOT for people who are at risk of blood clots.  And I am.  My father is on life-long blood-thinner treatments for have DVTs, the precise form of blood clots YAZ can cause. 

You know what would happen if I got a blood clot?  The definitive END of all playtime, that’s what.  I mean, you have to be careful not to cut your gums when brushing your teeth, and not to nick yourself shaving when you’re on blood thinners.  So, as you can imagine, you have to avoid, at all costs, activities that can possibly result in bleeding, bruising, or blood-flow restriction.  There could be absolutely no hitting, no spanking, no restraints, no grabbing, no rough sex.  At ALL.

So, yeah.  In a nutshell, I’m an abominable wench every single month, I hate myself with a passion for it, and the treatments are almost certainly worse than the illness.

*sigh*

I know this isn’t that interesting.  I know there’s nothing to be said or done by anyone reading this.  I guess I just wanted more of it out here, so there is less of it in me.