How Abuse Affected Me

Sometimes, my Dom is a little afraid to hurt me. To be mean to me. To demand submission when I honestly don't want to give it. Culturally charged words like rape and slavery make him cringe.

They used to make me cringe, too.

Pasts abuse made me fear giving up control. Sex was a weapon and men had the power. They could hurt you. They could use you, abandon you, lie to you. They could make you submit, promise you the world, and then tear your dreams of intimacy apart. I'd be left devestated and alone. I wasn't sure I could handle that, so I developed a fear of sex.

Not just all sex. Intimate sex. Mention intimacy and I'd shudder. I'd feel grossed out but couldn't explain why. No, thank you. Hurt me, use me, and I'll use you, but please don't try to be tender to me or look into my eyes or tell me you love me. Gross.

At the same time, I was also afraid of physical manifestations of power. I thought the male organ was gross and ugly. The penis was the enemy! I may not have said it, but I felt it. I acted like it. Because of penises, men did all sorts of awful things. I was not a fan. You might even say I was afraid of them.

Luckily, I met a few men who could control said male organs. Who seemed to actually put me first and their (or what my culture insisted was their) all-consuming need for constant sexual gratification second.

I was suspicious to say the least. Cosmo and tv and even FetLife told me all men were slaves to their sexual appetites. Magazines and tv told me that if men said they weren't looking at porn or masturbating or checking out other women, they were lying to you, simple as that. When such wholesome men came along, I thought I smelled a rat.

Eventually, I married one of those good, wholesome men. I was still pretty suspicious though. I just knew I was going to get used for sex, even if he never said it. I kept waiting for him to push me down and ravage me.

Now, I trust him a lot more. I've learned not all men are animals and I trust my Dom completely.

But sometimes it still makes him afraid to push me too far. Slavery.... consensual non-consent... rape.... coercion.... sexual submission. All these things are things we want and discuss, but he's afraid to go too far and damage me forever. Afraid because over the years I've insisted I could never want those things or trust someone enough to let them happen. Afraid because he's seen my eyes go vacant and my head go somewhere else, seen me roll over in bed shuddering and withdraw completely into myself and not talk to him, seen all the effects of abuse.

It happens less and less. But it's always a possibility. Abuse, like cancer or addiction, is something you can live with and get past, but will always be a part of who you are--- or at least who you were.

My abuse doesn't define who I am anymore. But it did shape who I was. And that affects who I am.

A survivor who is learning to trust someone who loves her very much.