My sexuality is a constantly evolving organism—a kind of Kafkaesque extremophile that changes its DNA at least once a year until it ultimately eats its own tail.
I stumbled onto kink in my first relationship, but it took almost 20 years to find my kinks so I was essentially vanilla-by-ignorance. The fetishes I dug up in those first years bored me so much that I rarely bothered with them.
In that era, Cosmo defined kink as ‘kitchen sex’. I’m as serious as a broken condom. I never had sex in the kitchen, but I did have it outside a grannies’ prayer meeting next to a trampoline once. The security guard wasn’t really watching. It was actually the trampoline that had him so fascinated. It’s true.
I was an epic slut from the start. I fucked who I wanted when I wanted as long as nobody was cheating. The only thing I couldn’t bring myself to do was swing and quit being morbidly heterosexual.
Within a few years of the new millennium, I was raped.
Extremophiles are organisms that flourish in extreme environments, and post-rape, that’s exactly what sex became. I jumped back onto that particular horse the second I was pushed off because I was scared that I would end up in perpetual celibacy otherwise. I wouldn’t recommend it, but I’m grateful I did it anyway because sex is so integral to who I am that I don’t feel like me without it.
It took more than a decade to stop having rape flashbacks.
That’s when I found D/s. Did BDSM help me to process the trauma in a way I’d previously not been able to? Maybe, but then again, maybe I’d healed and that’s why I could be loved. Whatever the case, I’d put PTSD behind me, and the more pervasive D/s became in my life, the more thought I put into my partners. I could engage in casual kink without a problem, but as soon as I found my kinks, I could no longer separate sex and intimacy.
Like a chrysalis, D/s needs to be allowed to unwrap all on its own. Forcing it before it’s ready only causes destruction. I found that out the hard way. BDSM can be exquisite, but it can also be used as a conduit for abuse.
Power exchange is the most evolved version of my sexuality. It’s not so for most, but certainly for me. Somewhere in the world is a cage in search of a bird exactly like me. I let it keep its own time, now.
Misquote and title taken from Kafka’s 16th aphorism.