Dominance and submission require you to have traits that go against the grain of your role. Submissives need incredible strength, courage, and power. Dominants need extreme gentleness, humility, and compassion. It’s those traits that seem to be the opposite of our roles that allow us to dominate and submit with any real depth.
There’s a fine line between a dominant and a douche. There’s a fine line between a submissive and a doormat. A top accepts control. A douche demands control. A dominant earns control. The only way a dominant has ever earned the incredible power they’ve wielded over me is by showing me that they would never demand it. They expected to earn it using the softest parts of their natures.
Submission is not something I choose to give. I can choose to bottom, but if I’m to submit, it must come from a profounder place. It must come naturally. I must feel it’s being drawn out of me. I submit because you show me unconditional love and care. I submit because you prove to me that you can be trusted with my greatest vulnerability. Submission is intensely intimate, and I will not expose the part of me that is most likely to be judged and harmed until you prove to me that you will hold it gently.
If you’re playing without educating yourself about the risks of what you’re doing, you’re not a dominant. You’re a douche. If you’re demanding my submission instead of loving me, you’re not a dominant. You’re a top. If you’re insisting on my submission instead of earning it, you’re not a dominant. You’re a top at best, a douche at worst. And those distinctions matter because without them, I risk handing over far too much power to a top who can’t safely hold my submission.
The men who turned me into a bottom instead of a submissive had one trait in common—they didn’t carry our dynamic into everyday life. I realise that sounds about as obvious as ‘the sky is blue’, but it takes a lot of work to carry D/s into daily life, so the only way to get it right is by being intrinsically dominant, and that means being intrinsically accepting.
Dominance needs to come from the softest, most vulnerable part of you. So I’ll say it again: if you’re a hard person who can’t accept me for who and what I am, you’re not a dominant. You’re a top. If you’re a controlling person who is unwilling to dig into my most secret places to get to know me intimately before demanding submission, you’re not a dominant, you’re a douche.
My dominants have had one trait in common—they showed me they accepted all of me. Every dark, gritty corner. Everything I was ashamed of. Everything I wanted to hide. I’m naturally submissive, so all I really need to submit is love–the kind of love that sets me free to be everything I am.