When it comes to my power orientation, I have always felt myself to be Dominant (just as I have always felt myself to be cis and generally straight). I have tried to explore submission with a few trusted people, but it has never done anything for me. I just get … bored. I remember one partner tried a fire scene with me. About ten minutes in, she said, exasperated “wow, this really is doing NOTHING for you.”
Indulge me on the following metaphor: It’s like my relationship with yogurt or green (or really any) tea. How many different times do I have to try it before it becomes clear that it’s not my thing? At different times, I’ve made a concerted effort to consume yogurt or tea daily for a couple of weeks to acclimate myself to them because they were supposed to be really good for me.
Each and every day of those two weeks, I had to force myself to consume them. I borderline gagged on yogurt daily (it’s a consistency thing). I winced with every sip of green tea. Partners would bring me different kinds of each with the promise “THIS one you’ll like!” I never did. Still don’t. And it wasn’t for lack of trying.
I know yogurt and tea are not the same as power/gender orientation or preferences. There are plenty of men I think are very good looking, and I can understand the draw of masochism and bottoming in scenes, but I cannot imagine that there will be that one gateway man or scene that will suddenly open up the floodgates to a declaration of bisexuality or switchiness. I think I’ve examined my orientations and preferences enough to know where I am.
I gave this preamble because I want to be clear that I cannot explain the mindset of a switch nor can I represent what might be going through a switch’s head when they are topping or bottoming in a scene. My submissive can easily speak for herself when it comes to her own experiences as a switch, and how she might feel in spaces with me as my submissive or when she’s in other spaces as a Domme with someone else.
But I can tell you what it’s like having a switch as a partner and a submissive, and it’s been eye-opening. Let’s keep in mind, this is not a how-to. I have played with several switches over the past couple of decades, and I’ve learned that it’s impossible to generalize. The best I can do is just give my own observations from my own experiences.1
The most important lesson I’ve learned was really catalyzed by my current relationship with my submissive: a switch is more than the sum of their parts. That is to say, they are more than being a combination of Dominant and submissive.
To me, the term “switch” is somewhat misleading, because it makes people think that at any given moment, they are literally flicking some kind of switch in their head that puts them exclusively in “submissive” or “Dominant” mode. From my perspective, it never seems either/or. In our authority exchange, my submissive never feels just submissive. I tend to think of her energy as more like “submissive plus.” Her very strong Dominant side allows her to access her submission in a different way than someone who identifies strongly on the submissive side of the spectrum. I’ve never felt her Dominant side in any kind of conflict with her submission, nor does that Dominant side “flare up” in our dynamic. It’s not like she’s going to try to hog tie me when I’m not looking, or try to spank me (but sometimes I think she might really want to).
I think sometimes that less experienced Dominants (and I’m not saying that pejoratively), may be intimidated by switches, or think that when a switch is being bratty that it’s their “Dominance” bubbling to the surface. Brattiness and Dominance are two very different things. In my experience, brattiness is a means for partners to express themselves and get my attention, and face the consequences for it. But I will say that when I was a baby Dom myself, I often confused the two, and was definitely threatened by brattiness, especially since I loved protocol and worship. Thankfully, I matured.
This is why being in an authority-based relationship with a switch takes self-confidence, self-awareness, and trust.
Having a partner who can wield whatever implements as well or better than you can; or who has a skill set that you don’t, can be a little disconcerting if you’re not secure in your relationship. My partner is very good at rope, where as I am all thumbs. She is teaching me the basics, but I fear that I’ll never have the manual dexterity, or patience, required to be able to tie beyond the most rudimentary things. But rope has never been my cup of tea anyway. It’s a kink I really enjoy watching rather than doing. It’s a performance that I enjoy seeing, rather than participating in. It’s not that I don’t engage in rope play with her because she can do it better than I can, it’s just not something I’m that into. And if I am doing something to her that she’s also good at doing to others (perhaps even better than I am), I know that — as her Sir — I’m satisfying her desire to let go of control and simply be in her submissive space.
When I witness my submissive in a more Dominant mode with another partner, however, I find myself seeing her more as a fellow Dominant. Sometimes we’ll start certain conversations with “Dominant to Dominant, what do you think of [insert scene we’ve witnessed/gossip we’ve heard here]?” So in that regard, I can learn things from her just as I would from any other D-type I respect in the scene. But I’m secure enough in my relationship with my submissive to know that I’m always learning things from her anyway. She’s always teaching me things about empathy, vulnerability, D/s, and myself. I have never thought of myself as a lesser Dom because I learn things from my submissive. It is a vital part of our dynamic.
Having a switch as a submissive brings me a greater-self awareness, but it’s only self-awareness because I’m going in with a seasoned self-confidence. If I went into any scene doubting myself or my abilities, I’d be forever wondering if I was being judged for my skills, rather than being confident that not only am I good enough at what I do, but that my submissive loves what we have, and loves being in the submissive spaces that I create, facilitate, and cultivate with her.
Along those lines, the fact that my submissive actually leans more Dominant in most situations and in her other relationships serves to heighten the value of her submission for me. The fact that it’s reserved for me – her Sir – makes her service, protocols, submission, and surrender that much sweeter and more beautiful. I know what a good Domme she is when she’s in those spaces, and the fact that she feels safe enough with me to let go validates and sanctifies our own relationship.
I can go into a scene or a weekend with her knowing, confidently, that I am her Sir. And that is what she is looking for. I trust her submission and service to me. And I know that for someone as skilled as she is, the fact that she craves her submissive spaces with me just elevates the whole experience even more. This trust is the basis of all we have. Furthermore, when she occasionally asks my advice regarding a potential submissive partner, I know that she is coming to me with that question with respect for me both as her Sir and as a fellow Dominant.
When my submissive is in a particularly subbie mood, or she requests a particularly intense scene, not only do I trust her, but I am honored that I am the one who can bring her to those spaces. Again, if I were to come into that space from a sense of ego or insecurity, I could easily get into my own head, wrongly thinking that she was judging me as a Dominant. Dom imposter syndrome is a thing, and we can get ourselves into all kinds of mental knots about whether or not we’re worthy of the service we’re receiving, or if we’re “good enough” for our submissives or slaves.
Finally, having a submissive who is a switch gives me an incredible sense of pride. When she tops another person, and tells me (with their consent) all the fantastically sadistic things she does with them; or the protocols or service she dreamed up for them in the dungeon, I find myself beaming, and thinking that’s my girl. But that speaks to the core of our own dynamic: we love seeing each other succeed, and our dynamic revolves around the ways in which we elevate each other.
Switches are incredibly special. They can be intimidating, but only if we’re insecure in what we have.
I see Dominance and submission as a kind of contextual spectrum, meaning that it’s not a question of whether we’re Dominant, submissive, or (for switches), both. It’s a question of how far we lean in any given situation or context. I lean very dramatically to the D-type side of things in most situations. Others may lean one way or the other in most contexts, but have certain partners or situations with whom or in which they lean almost exclusively in the other direction.
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