I was lucky. Not just lucky, extremely lucky. Not only did I have the obligation of working two jobs and going to school full time, I had an amazing slave that backed me with all of her love and support. My slave was vested in my process no matter how slow or how frustrating it was for her.
In retrospect my time limits where a blessing for me.
It forced me to go slow- take in what was happening to me and how I felt about it.
What was very different was when I came out as a lesbian, which happened before I came onto BDSM. When I came out as a lesbian, I did it through my first wife.
Part of it was me fighting her; part of it was me fighting myself.
I wanted more, I needed more. I became more volatile and emotionally unstable as my sense of self disintegrated. I knew that what I was doing, were I was going, what I was experiencing was all more and more in conflict with who I was and what I felt was right.
So I got more aggressive, I got angry, I got hostile. I became extremely unbalanced and I knew it. So I fought for balance. And while that was happening I was reactionary, I was unpredictable, I was emotionally labile- as the fight for my sense of self waged war against what I was making myself do, making myself endure, making myself justify.
The internal visceral questions of who am I, what does all of this mean and most importantly how long can I do this before who I am, or who I think I am is gone completely. And once that happens, what will be left?
For those of you that have never had to choose your sexuality, your gender, your way that conflicted with everything that you knew, believed, was surrounded by, never had to go against the grains of your life’s expectations- I don’t expect you to understand what I am talking about.
But for those of you that have had to risk everything for your sense of self, had to put your entire raw being out there, only to see that who you were becoming was not who you so passionately wanted to be-
So when someone comes to me and they are a woman who is new to desiring women, or new to leather, I stand back. I hold their hand. I do not have sex with or play with them. I let them know that this can be a very rocky road of self discovery- the good, the bad and the ugly.
I see them go through their stages, but it is only when they hit their stage of fear does how their ability to deal with the reality of their transition come to light.
Fear, and the emotional responses that happen because of fear, are who you are in crisis. It is easy to put on a brave happy face, when things are easy and when people feel secure. But when someone is consumed with fear, doubt, change, and insecurity, who they really are comes out. Some people are defensive, angry, pushy, entitled.
It is not until they get past that stage can they put together any type of reason-- any type of self awareness that is based in reality. Until then it is only raw and pure emotion.
So what is my point here?
My point is that with the newbie’s, they are, at any age, a ball of emotion that has no beginning and no end, only a middle of exploding fire. They don’t have the ability to reason --so be reason for them. They don’t have the ability to see past their own emotions, wants and desires- so see that for them.
Help them to know that on the other side of that emotion is a long haul of self reflection, introspection and confusion. But that they are not alone.
I wish that someone would have been able do that for me. I wish that someone would have sat there for me and said “you can’t see over this hill, but I can, and you are not alone, not now and not at the other side of that hill.”
Two years ago this happened to me again. I was in the eye of a hurricane of self doubt and confusion. Everything that I knew about myself, or wanted to know about myself was not true. I became emotionally, physically labile and volatile. I was unpredictable, harsh, abusive, and without reason. I was again in this place of unknowing who I was, what I was or where I was going. I would scream, lash out, and then lay in bed staring blankly for hours, unable to move.
The difference was that two years ago I had those that surrounded me in my fire of emotion and anger and held my hand and said. “We will see you though.”
They loved me anyway.
They saw me through some of the darkest hours of my adult life.
How blessed am I that I was surrounded by that love, by that resilience, by that courage to see the other side of the hill for me when I could only see my own circle of fire.
I owe that to others now.
What I was given, what I was blessed with.
I owe that to others coming up behind me, asking questions, rolling out of control. I owe that to others- to see their hill when they can only see their fire.
How blessed am I.
Thank you to my slave, to my SM.
Thank you for not giving up on my transition, and seeing me though when I was blinded by smoke.