During the first three months of our BDSM debacle, my husband and I had some involvement with the local group. We didn’t jump in all the way, mainly because my husband wanted to protect me from the “doms” — the guys who think that any submissive girl is available for them to order around and “play” with. We did socialize with a few submissives and a couple of dominants, enough to get the basic idea of what the lifestyle was like — enough to convince me that I was going to be “empowered,” and all that jazz.
I started fading almost immediately, but I figured that it was because I wasn’t doing it right. Everyone kept assuring me of what it was supposed to be, and I figured that I could somehow achieve it if I could just find the right mindset. I decided to go hardcore, and pushed for the master/slave dynamic. I wanted to cease existing as an individual, and become an extension of my husband.
As I plummeted farther into self-hatred, the BDSM people that we knew praised me more and more for being “the perfect submissive.” They said that we had “a really awesome relationship.” I wanted to believe them. I convinced myself that I believed them.
After three months, we moved to a new location and lost contact with them. I didn’t bother seeking out any new BDSM friends, and after a few months without any external influences, I finally began to protest, “This isn’t right.” I finally started listening to what my gut was telling me.
Now when I slip into the dark places of my mind, I revert back to being that “slave.” I cry about how I’m such a terrible person, and ask my husband, “Why won’t you punish me? Why won’t you hurt me? How am I supposed to stop misbehaving without it?” I refuse to form my own opinions, and try to manipulate my husband into treating me like a puppet. I thoroughly and completely hate myself.
Thankfully, I don’t journey into those dark places too often anymore. I went there for about an hour yesterday morning, which has gotten me thinking about it and past events.
For a long time I struggled with trying to understand why our supposed BDSM friends spoke so highly of us and our relationship, when it had been so destructive for me. I’ve come to the conclusion that in the world of BDSM, that really was what most of them aim for.
It disturbing how casually most BDSM submissives talk of hating and distrusting themselves, and it’s obvious that it stems from before they ever got into the lifestyle. They bond over their self-loathing, and speak highly of how punishments give them absolution. Since I did not start with those feelings, BDSM had to create them in me. Perhaps, if I had given it enough time, I would have picked up the feelings of relief that punishments were supposed to impart as well, but as it was they were far from natural for me.
I did everything right, all the way down to losing my confidence and self-esteem. The one thing I did wrong was failing to see punishments as redeeming.
I’m far happier as I am now.