The Subtle Art of Not Giving a Fuck (About Kink Labels)

If I could redo my beginnings as a sub, I would spend less time trying to keep my tops happy and more of it getting to know myself. Ever since I discovered my subly self I’ve embraced only one directive: to please. Sometimes I did it for selfish reasons, but mostly, I was scared that the true me was not deferent enough to please the most vocal dominants in this community.

I’ve since learned that the types of people who judge subs by the degree of self-effacement we manage are not the types I want within five blocks of me.

Unti2tled

Over the last year, I’ve spent a great deal of time trying to figure out which kink role to apply to myself. I’ve come to a firm conclusion: If you’re the type of dominant who inspires my submission, then I’ll magically transform into a sub, pumpkin carriage, glass slippers, and all. If you’re the type who doesn’t feel his dominance profoundly, our dynamic might be more hedonistic than power-related, and if you’re an abusive asshole, I guess my domly nature will come out for approximately five seconds before I kick you out of my front door.

I can summarise my kink role into a sentence that’s almost short enough to qualify as a label:

I don’t give a fuck.

I don’t have to decide if I’m a sub before I meet my next top. I will joyfully continue to explore my kinks without boundaries or strictures. Will some dominants pass me by because that makes me too high maintenance? Definitely, and yet I still don’t give a fuck.

Labels have some utilitarianism, of course, but all I have to make my dating life clearer is that I’m a submissivish brat-type bottom with distinct dominant tendencies and an inner slave who’s dying to come out. That one has enough nouns and adjectives to turn my label into BDSM’s version of homeopathy: So much water, so few active ingredients, and yet…

… I still don’t give a fuck.

If you want to try dating me, I’m afraid you’re going to have to do it because you want a woman who reads, whines, and has a serious sarcasm problem. I love sex more than most, so I’m supposed to put more weight on how I summarise my kinks, but… I still find myself not giving a fuck. And you shouldn’t give a fuck about my labels either because I have no expectations of you. Somewhere in this mire of fucks not given, we will discover where we meet. That place will be our unique brand of D/s, bespoke and gorgeously rare.

As Mark Manson so famously said, “If we could only give a few less fucks, or a few more consciously-directed fucks, then life would feel pretty fucking easy.”

I prefer my sex life to be fucking easy, but most of all, I like it to have integrity. I will keep on working out the problem of my labels until I’ve achieved that. Till then, please help yourself to one of these fucks. I have a ton of them to give away.

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