I’ve been interacting with so many new people lately, I feel like
I’m losing my mind trying to keep everything straight. That being said,
I love meeting new people. New views. New questions. New answers.
New perspectives. I love to learn. I love to share.
I’ve been getting asked a lot of questions lately about my role in D/s. I’ve been answering them in the same way but the feedback I’m getting is new to me. I’m learning more about myself.
I don’t think what I thought was my slavespace is actual slavespace. I have way too much “self” in it, even if the external behavior is similar. I do not think I am a slave.
I don’t think I am a sissy. I don’t think I ever really was. I think that my triggers got so twisted up that I couldn’t figure out what was going on. I took on the name and wrote about it because I was hoping to come to terms with it and stop hating myself. I was actually asked to define what a sissy was. I described it as best I could, giving it a generic description and letting them know how there were different types. I went on to describe how it differed from a transvestite and a cross-dresser. The thought became clear to me: this isn’t me. I don’t enjoy it for what it is, nor did I ever want it. I am not a sissy.
I am really starting to believe that I am a little. I am not a happy little. My little doesn’t give me a break from the world. Having unearthed the memories this past year about the hat and earmuffs humiliations, those experiences were trauma. Those are my triggers to my little space. I become that humiliated and bullied little boy, broken to shyness, desperate for love and acceptance. These experiences were galvanized and sexualized by my experiences with M and my masturbatory habits that followed. My little resembles a slave in the way that he is broken and will obey authority without resistance… and actually an eagerness to show how good he is and fearing the terror of being left behind.
My little is a submissive. It is not just that my little has a submissive personality, but my little is a submissive. This explains a lot. The arousal. The humiliation. The mental space that has been so confusing to me over the years. My little may even be a slave, or is at least broken to accept only the bare minimum of attention. It believes all of the negativity it has been fed. It cannot see itself in any other way. It accepts its station in life.
I have a submissive persona that retains my adult self. It is a bit more mild in its submission. It responds to bondage. It responds to body worship. It responds to sex. This is a separate person to my little. They think differently. They behave differently. They respond differently.
My mind is feeling rather stretched while trying to get to the bottom of this. It shatters my understanding of myself. I will have to sort through all of this and redefine. What I know to be me, is no longer.
I’ve been getting asked a lot of questions lately about my role in D/s. I’ve been answering them in the same way but the feedback I’m getting is new to me. I’m learning more about myself.
I don’t think what I thought was my slavespace is actual slavespace. I have way too much “self” in it, even if the external behavior is similar. I do not think I am a slave.
I don’t think I am a sissy. I don’t think I ever really was. I think that my triggers got so twisted up that I couldn’t figure out what was going on. I took on the name and wrote about it because I was hoping to come to terms with it and stop hating myself. I was actually asked to define what a sissy was. I described it as best I could, giving it a generic description and letting them know how there were different types. I went on to describe how it differed from a transvestite and a cross-dresser. The thought became clear to me: this isn’t me. I don’t enjoy it for what it is, nor did I ever want it. I am not a sissy.
I am really starting to believe that I am a little. I am not a happy little. My little doesn’t give me a break from the world. Having unearthed the memories this past year about the hat and earmuffs humiliations, those experiences were trauma. Those are my triggers to my little space. I become that humiliated and bullied little boy, broken to shyness, desperate for love and acceptance. These experiences were galvanized and sexualized by my experiences with M and my masturbatory habits that followed. My little resembles a slave in the way that he is broken and will obey authority without resistance… and actually an eagerness to show how good he is and fearing the terror of being left behind.
My little is a submissive. It is not just that my little has a submissive personality, but my little is a submissive. This explains a lot. The arousal. The humiliation. The mental space that has been so confusing to me over the years. My little may even be a slave, or is at least broken to accept only the bare minimum of attention. It believes all of the negativity it has been fed. It cannot see itself in any other way. It accepts its station in life.
I have a submissive persona that retains my adult self. It is a bit more mild in its submission. It responds to bondage. It responds to body worship. It responds to sex. This is a separate person to my little. They think differently. They behave differently. They respond differently.
My mind is feeling rather stretched while trying to get to the bottom of this. It shatters my understanding of myself. I will have to sort through all of this and redefine. What I know to be me, is no longer.
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