People Will Hate You, Rate You, Break You, And Shake You. How Strong You Stand Is What Makes You.

Great response! I'm glad you didn't leave that opportunity to correct him on what a D/S is. I would hate to meet him.

Been reading ur blog. U need to stop calling urself a dom. All this lovey crap makes real doms sick. A sub is not for respecting and loving. A sub is for using and thats what they like. Its fine that u love ur girl, just dont call urself a dom. Real doms show dominance, use there sub and leave her laying like the cunt slut she is. Bein all sweet, and all that does is give her power over u, which makes u not a dom.

Hi there, Anon. I almost didn’t even dignify this with a response, but I think you’ve actually given me a good opportunity to say something that new doms need to know, so kudos to you. 

First and foremost, let’s establish something right here and now: You don’t get to tell me what I am, and you are damn sure not the leading authority on what does and does not constitute a dominant. For the record, I didn’t wake up one day and decide to be a dom. I never even thought of myself that way until I met belovedsangi 10 years ago. I always had the characteristics of a dom, sure, but I didn’t ever put that title on myself. That title was given to me by my submissive. SHE is the one who wanted to call me Master, and Sir, and sometimes Daddy. I never told her to do these things. But of course, you probably think I am making your point for you and that if I were a REAL domly dom, I would’ve demanded those things. 

And that’s where you have a fundamental issue understanding the meaning of the title. So let me help you with that. 

A dom does not demand respect. He conducts himself in such a way as to be worthy of respect. 

A dom does not bark commands. His presence is such that he can seduce and command with nothing more than a glance. 

A dom does not raise his voice. He is the kind of man who gets what he wants without needing to. 

A dom is not a braggart. He is possessed of a calm, quiet confidence that is evident in his demeanor, the way he walks, the tone of his voice, and all other aspects of him. 

A dom understands balance. He knows that while a firm hand and discipline are critical in this type of relationship, knowing when to be gentle and understanding is every bit as important. 

A dom is a gentleman first and foremost. That doesn’t necessarily mean that he is a fancy man who values the finer things in life, but he does understand manners and protocol. He opens the car door for her. He orders for her if she is having trouble deciding. He treats strangers with courtesy and respect. 

A dom is a protector. He makes sure that his submissive feels safe and protected at all times. This means so much more than just telling her you will protect her. A dom shows her. He keeps a hand on her shoulder or on her waist in crowds so she doesn’t get nervous. He sleeps on the side of the bed closest to the door so that he is always between his submissive and an intruder. He walks on the side of the sidewalk closest to the street so that an errant vehicle will hit him before his submissive. If anything or anyone should threaten his submissive, he must be prepared to fight for her with the ferocity of an alpha wolf. 

A dom earns her submission. It is not a thing to be demanded, expected, or assumed. And he continues to earn it, each and every day.  

A dom values her submission. Fully submitting your will and trusting your body and well-being to someone takes a kind of strength most can’t imagine, and a dom never loses sight of that. 

A dom understands that being a dominant is 10% privilege and 90% responsibility. He is literally taking her life into his hands. He is accepting the most sacred and important thing she has to give. He is taking her burdens and bearing them as his own, always, every day. 

A dom is consistent. He understands that he can’t just be her protector, lover, confidant, master, etc. when he feels like it. There will be days when a dom is tired. There will be days when he is stressed. There will be days when he is broken. On those days, it is more important than ever for a dom to show his submissive that he is still everything she needs him to be. 

So what does it mean, then, to be a dom? I get the feeling that you, anon, would say that it’s all about making her kneel, having your way with her, shouting orders and using her. Helpful hint: Any jackass can buy himself a whip and bark commands. That’s not a dom. Don’t get me wrong, I do absolutely have my way with belovedsangi. I love it when she kneels. I love the kinky, rough, mind-blowing sex we have. I love to dominate her in the bedroom. But for every moment of that, there are a hundred moments of holding her, of talking to her, laughing with her, gaming with her. There are a hundred moments of making her feel safe when she is afraid, giving her confidence when she is unsure, comforting her when she feels troubled. Those are all things that a dominant does too. 

I love my submissive more than I love oxygen. I love my submissive with a fire that can never be extinguished. I value her and respect her in every way. I treat her like a queen and fuck her like a slave. These things don’t make me weak. They don’t make me less of a dominant. These things make me stronger than you can possibly imagine. There is nothing quite so formidable as a dominant who has found the perfect submissive to fuel his fire. Never will you see anyone love so strongly or fight so fiercely. 

Bottom line, Anon, is this: you sound like a boy playing at being a man. You decided one day that you were sick of women having willpower and a voice of their own, so you decided to call yourself a dominant and seek out some weak-willed submissive who wouldn’t talk back to you or stick up for herself. You are not a dom. You are a jackass with a whip. Classic case of toodomforyou.

It's hard to make friends when you know this will happen. Making yourself vulnerable to anyone has become harder. I don't remember having friends turn on me like they do now. I know I am a good person. I am the friend others want. It seems there are people who scratch for any weakening in the wall I've built around me, like wolves hunting the sheep behind the fortress. The closer the person gets the more likely they will turn on you.

I have yet to find him. Only weak men are attracted to me. I intimidate the strong ones. If he can look past the tough exterior fortress I have built, he will have a woman like no other.

Ballad of a Broken Woman

I’ve always been aware of it.

The flat yet hungry look some men get when they look at me. They look at, but not in.

They imagined, wove their personalized fantasy and threw it over my shoulders. It’s always so heavy. Impossibly so, but I bore it with a smile through gritted teeth. Every girl wants to be desired, right?

I endured until I was a rage-filled wraith.

I’m not your manic pixie dream girl. Fuck that.

I’m not manic, nor am I a goddamned pixie. My bones are strong, and I am tall, so I can look you in the eye. I’m no dream. I breathe, eat, shit, sleep, just like you. 

Most of all, I am no girl. 

I’m in my third decade. I’ve earned my high standards. Every single one of my scars. Some are physical. Most are not, but they are mine. 

For years, I lived in terror that he would see that I am no panacea. I would not, could not heal him. I am no savior. I am limping as much as he, am just as frightened. My thoughts are just as disheveled, if not more.

What happens when I shake the fantasy off my shoulders, and he sees that I need him more than he needs me? That I wasn’t built to organize his life, give him purpose, clean his dirty laundry and constantly replenish his deflated ego?

What of my ego, if I find no significant nourishment in serving his? What of my purpose, my dirty laundry?

Will he raw his knuckles on it, wash me and make me new, just like he expected me to do with his?

What happens to the silent few, the women who cannot, or will not be a mirror for a man’s dreams? Is it selfishness, or is it that my own desire burns me to distraction?

I don’t know anymore. I am no vessel. There is no end to me to stop the flow. I am no lake. I am an ocean. I go on forever. Churn with fierce and frightful imaginings, so far removed from white picket fences.

Still, I dream of love, but free. 

What man will dive deep into me, be swallowed up, despite his fear of drowning?

There is so much in me, so much to share with a man who dares. I am not easy. I am not always kind. 

I hurt, but there can be shared comfort, unlike any he’s felt before, in the healing.

I love libraries and hidden spots!

Lol! I'm getting an ankle bracelet. It will be a surprise to the next guy I date. Will he know what's up?

The energy coursing through us is addictive!

Beautiful. Mesmerising.

Who wanted to watch that cake being eaten over and over?