Secret Confessions of a Smart Girl

I tend to be extraordinarily leery of using BDSM as therapy. That having be said, however, there are times I find it to be extremely therapeutic.

For various reasons, including a parade of weasels, I have been considering bailing on a play event at which I will see (among many other adored people) my MDP. This morning he told me to find a way to make it possible for me to come to the event and… it helped. Having him tell me to find a way to make it work shut up the weasels long enough for me to reframe my problems in a way that I -could- make it
work.

I’m good at being a high-functioning depressive for work.

I’m terrible at doing it for life.

Still, it seems as though having given my mind permission to put his desires above mine in scene space, and in fact finding great comfort and joy in doing so, has also given him the quite useful ability to tame my social anxiety (and related) weasels. I can’t quite do it for me, but it does seem I can do it for him.

I find this both fascinating and somewhat disturbing, because, while I’m amazed at how well it works, it makes me very uncomfortable using someone else for emotional caretaking. I like being that person, but I can’t quite grasp, emotionally, that someone might like being that for me. It’s awfully nice though, that he seems to. (I can’t quite bring myself to write that as “he does.”)

We were discussing this in a related context the other week and he said to me “I don’t know, in this case, where to draw the line between respecting your worries and just Being The Dom and having you do what I want.” So we talked about it, figured out which worries were legitimate concerns and which were acceptable for him to D/s me through, and moved on from there.

That sort of respect and conversation is why I can let him push my limits and take me to the places I am not always comfortable wanting to go - because I am confident both that he won’t try to take me anywhere I don’t really want to go and that he will listen to my worries and address them constructively (by stopping or altering or whatever. For that matter, I suspect the fact that he knows I will tell him if something he wants is a problem also allows him a great deal of comfort in just assuming he can take) It enables me to love letting him use me without regard for what I want or like at any given moment, because I am completely confident that he has complete respect for what I need.

This sort of submission is really nice. It’s oddly comforting, even in the moments where it’s terrifying. It’s also incredibly hot to know he can take what he wants when he wants it (within what we consider reason) and I suppose the proof of my submissive orientation, at least in this relationship, is the fact that him wanting something almost always makes me instantly want it too - even if moments before sex, pain, or service was the last thing on my mind.

It’s quite weird, as an extremely introverted and often exceedingly selfish person, to find so much pleasure and joy in having someone who wants things from me and in being able to just give to them.

I guess that, if push comes to shove, when you can get me out of my own head I really like to care.