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| poutanaki |
I am a needy person, of a sort I guess. Because I am driven by a need to be submissive, to be controlled and owned. I'm also driven sometimes by a need for sex or pain. Sometimes I covet bondage or degradation. Or one of the many other possible proclivities that this lifestyle can offer.
I have struggled with that idea, that me, a submissive who should only want to please, is this bundle of sometimes overwhelming wants and needs. I am also acutely aware, that my online persona perhaps displays this facet of my personality rather well. It is in fact more focused on that side of me than any other.
I guess this because when I am consumed by desire, I am inspired to write, to try and pour that wanting into words, so I don't have to think about it so much. I find that it is easy for me to write about my need for sex and play, I think because at some point I know that I will find some release for those desires.
It's harder to write about my submissiveness, especially at the moment when I have made the decision that I do not wish to submit (and/or because I am disillusioned by the possibility of finding someone I can truly submit too, when I'm ready to do so). Though unfortunately that decision doesn't seem to stop me wanting and needing it, day dreaming about it, aching for it.
Its almost too hard to express my submissiveness, because I'd prefer not to focus on it, I don't want to dwell on how much a lack of dominance pains me. I can concentrate on wanting physical acts and pretend that the need to submit mentally is not always, always there. I guess it's me unconsciously trying to ignore that drive, that need. Though my lack of literary focus on it, almost makes me want to stand up and say “I am submissive honest”.
I think at the start, that was what I thought this blog would be about, It has instead made me ponder why I don't write about that side of me. Why I don't share that as freely as those other desires, and as a result has morphed into something else instead. A realisation that it is just too raw (like an open wound) and vulnerable to think about, to express in the same way.
A friend tonight told me that it would be less tiring if I stopped fighting it. Why can't my decision be enough, why can't I press pause on this feeling and just stop wanting it for a little while? Why is the decision to not wish to submit, to not be owned, to not seek or want to find dominance: so fucking hard?
Edited Mon 14 Jun 10, 2:01 AM by poutanaki
