What Does This Femdom Do With Her Time When She’s Not Dominating?

No matter how many hours of a day you want to devote to BDSM scenes, there comes a time when you probably need to go do other things like groceries and paying the electric bill or bathing. I mean, perhaps some of you shower dominantly, I honestly don’t know. However, for me, 99% of the time I think life is indistinguishable from anyone who IDs as vanilla.

I’m a bit of a home body. Lately, my time’s been spend on little projects like re-learning CSS and brushing up on some languages. I’d like to say that I spend my time with a finger on the pulse of the kink world, but actually I’m more likely to spend time on Code Academy or Duo Lingo than Kink.com or Fetlife.

I also spend time doing catch up housework. A lot. It’s not that I like doing housework, it’s just that I tend to neglect things until they urgently need taking care of. And I’m not exactly the most organized of people, so only the most simple organizational systems get any sort of useful result. As this is being written I’m getting myself out of dishes debt, one dish drainer full at a time and getting caught up on the laundry.

And yet, I’m not a complete disaster on the domestic front. The other mid-blog interruption is preparing a whole roast chicken alongside and oven tray of lemon-savoury vegetables- that’s onion, carrot, button mushroom and potato prepared with savoury and lemon zest (as well as a drizzle of sunflower oil). Somewhere in the six months after leaving home in my early twenties I developed from rudimentary ability to put edible things in front of other people, to the ability to turn random ingredients into something satisfying.

Of course I have other little projects. The visual art bug hasn’t bitten in a while, but it’s not atypical for me to go through a torrent of doodling and sketching, and then chuck the sketchbook when I’m done. And there’s a half dozen novels- there’s Catamite, which you can read here, and other things less erotically focused. And way more time than I should in internet slap fights, bastions of free and unhindered speech where the watchword runs- I disagree with what you have to say, and I think you should be put to death for saying it.

I round that out by being painfully and unabashedly nerdy. From running around in minecraft to LARPing, I’m past shame about this. It’s fun, and it’s as much a part of my heritage as other families who gather together for a Big Game or go to church every Sunday. My parents met each other, and their respective spouses, through the SCA.

It’s banal, but it’s important because that’s what I decided to invest the bulk of my finite life in. And to be honest, those parts are more the longevity and attraction predictors, more so than mere kinkiness, for finding partners.

So what is the other 23 hours of the day, for you, when it’s not about sex?

State of the Dis-Union

destr_torsion_padlock1I took care of some tax paperwork that needed doing, and followed up with the Ex so he knew that as far as cofiling for 2012, the ball’s in his court again. Next month I’m turning 27. Perhaps for that reason I’m filled with a particular impatience, as if nothing is coming at the speed it should.

And yet, I took a pretty big leap in January, to correct something that was demonstrably not a large sign of maturity in my life up until that point. I broke off an almost six year relationship, expecting to abandon everything that didn’t fit into a taxi.  With my Ex, I’ve been particularly careful talking about it- his privacy deserves respect and nothing is worse than tirades about a person who cannot defend themselves.

Breaking up didn’t make me a happier person per-say, because I’ve always been particularly good at living inside my head, and from that point, manufacturing my own contentment. I think, to apply a lesson from that situation, the problem was not basic sexual incompatibility, because I was quite capable of finding him attractive.  It wasn’t ideological issues, though we didn’t see eye-to-eye on a lot of stuff, because I again, tend to have that space in my head that generally lets people I’m close to be people. It was a fundamental lack of respect that was eventually starting to go both ways that was making it bad for both of us.

Again, I think I’m on pretty dubious grounds as far as telling the whole wide web, though I’ve also talked intimately of my sexuality in other posts so… I’ll try to stick to talking about me and not him.

A lot of people seem to think that being a D-type makes you magically able to pilot relationships  to the point that a few lonely-and-delusional sub types will chime in about how you just need to put glue in the lock of the chastity cage and everything will come up roses, and yet I think this sort of problem is something that could happen to anyone, kinky or not.

Things I took into the relationship, that were pretty important, is being a survivor of child abuse, and being part of the addict-and-enabler song and dance. A lot of people have gone through what I did (there’s no apparent correlation between being kinky and childhood abuse survival) and it grinds a pattern into you that is so familiar and reliable that I can meet someone from the same weird world and just about close my eyes and run my fingers, blind, through the maze they’ve got embossed on their psyche. What does that have to do with my Ex? Learned helplessness is a bitch.

In the oddest way, kink did kill our relationship. Not basic sexual incompatibility  but some older person on fetlife advising me that as I aged I would understand all those “[Sigh!]… whatever!” things women are supposed to give in response to their male partners. I find the idea horrifying. And, one of the prices of staying with the ex would have been fundamental acceptance that I would never be listened to, in any particular capacity- I’d rather be a crazy cat lady than resigned.

But independence is pretty amazing. I like having my own apartment. It needs work, but even the relative lack of resources that came as a trade off of not being in a shared household… does not seriously impact my quality of life. I have noticed that I am being treated like I am more attractive, which generally tends to go with being on the lighter end of my weight fluctuations and is a definite thing. People are shallow. Then again, I’m not living as much inside my head as it was, so that’s a positive trade off.

I engage in lots of little projects, as is my habit. Honestly, it keeps me occupied. Each month brings some small improvement. Not bad for someone who was sleeping on a pile of laundry mid January! This week’s extravagance will hopefully be updating my bedding, at least to get a nice duvet cover that doesn’t have the general texture of sandpaper.

And on the flip side, I’m enjoying the challenges of my job. Hilariously, my boss wants me to temper my “direct” communication style, which means code switching to utterly fake corporate cheerleader in all external emails. This is not challenging for me, but if I actually believes in True Dominance (TM) I’d claim it was my nature shining through.

Instead, insincere exclamation points.

This is generic stock art. No idea where it started out.