Some Thoughts About BDSM and Learning About Myself

I don’t really know how to start this without sounding dramatic, but that's fine. I don’t really remember the first time I stumbled across BDSM. It wasn’t some dramatic moment, no deep epiphany. It was gradual, like most things that end up changing you. A late-night internet rabbit hole, an offhand comment from a friend, a random blog post that made me stop and think.

What I thought I knew about kink was all wrong, of course. It was just the usual media garbage—leather, whips, some mysterious Dom with a dark past and a private helicopter. But the more I read, the more I realized the reality was quieter, and honestly, a lot more beautiful.

There was this whole world where people negotiated what they wanted without fear of judgement. Where you could say, out loud, their most private desires and no one would flinch. They’d just nod, ask what kind of choking, what words turned you on, what your limits were, etc. It wasn’t seedy or dangerous, it was safe.

I didn’t jump in right away. I lurked. I read. I rolled my eyes at how intense it all sounded and then found myself coming back, again and again, drawn to the way people described feeling seen in a scene.

Eventually, I got brave. I went to a local munch, heart pounding like I was sneaking into some forbidden club. Instead, it was just normal people. Some nerdy, some awkward, some neither, but all of them kind. People who could talk about aftercare and rope burns in the same breath they talked about their favorite coffee order.

Anyways, what surprised me the most when I started exploring topping, was how much of it is just… taking care of someone. Not controlling them, not bossing them around (okay, sometimes), but holding them in this really intentional way. Giving them the space to let go because they know I’ve got them.

I didn’t plan on ending up here, either. I always assumed if I ever dipped into kink, I’d be the one being told what to do. But the more I learned, the more something in me clicked around the idea of being the one paying attention. Really watching someone. Reading their body, their breathing, noticing the way their muscles tense just before they speak up, or maybe they won’t, maybe it’s on me to catch it before they even have to.

Me circa 2024

There’s something kind of beautiful about the way someone looks at you when they know you’re paying attention like that. When they trust you enough to hand over control, knowing you won’t drop them.

I think a lot of people assume being a Domme is about being cold or cruel, and yeah, there can be a performance to it sometimes if that's what one is into. But honestly? The power isn’t in making someone feel small, it’s in knowing you could and choosing not to. It’s in creating a scene where someone can fall apart on purpose because they know you’ll be right there, steady.

I don’t know. I think people miss that part of BDSM when they talk about it like it’s just sex or power games. At its best, it feels like care. Or at least, like respect.

Anyway, those are just some thoughts. I’m still figuring it out. But I know that topping, domming, whatever you want to call it… it’s not about being mean. It’s about paying attention.