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petdave -> Submission vs. masochim/fetishism and the vanilla partner (3/30/2007 12:06:27 PM)
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i'm sure this has been discussed at length (thanks in advance Aileen), but perhaps i just feel a need to write. Perhaps this isn't the best place for it, perhaps it's the only place i have.
Let us speak of a hypathetical submale. Born "different"... perhaps broken. Too quiet, and bookish... and what books! War and persecution, torture and pain. And dreams of being scourged and broken on the rack. And dreams of belonging to someone, to serve her, to keep her happy, to be an outlet for her cruelty. And in the echoes, books on psychology, philosophy, history, searching for answers. For a fix.
And after 18 years of too much lonliness, he finally meets someone he can relate to. A rarity, someone who doesn't begin to irritate him after an hour or two. Someone else who has spent time alone in crowds, and uniquely, someone who cares. Someone who values the things he knows. And so they become inseparable And so they come to experiment, in fits and spurts, in the aftermath of quiet discussions in the dark, letters written through silent tears.
And so they remain inseparable. And in many ways, they remain alone, but now a team against the world. But change being the only constant in the world, not everything continues. Once conducted, the experiments are deemed adequate, and are rarely repeated. He takes on all of the duties of their shared household, and she revels openly in her lack of responsibility and labor. Yet, when things go undone, there is no consequence, because even mentioning them requires too much effort; corrective discipline is out of the question. Without value, his service diminishes. He does what needs to be done, and lives for the brief hours when he has the house to himself, and can take care of his inconvenient needs.
And things reach a head, and emotional discussion ensues, and each person blames himself or herself, and promises to do better. And they do for months, sometimes weeks.
And repeat.
And husband and wife each have the best friend that the first halves of their lives lacked. And that is all the wife needs.
And the husband brings her some happiness. He cooks for her, takes care of the pets that she wanted but now ignores. Maintains the motorcycle she wanted but now ignores. Buys her silly gifts, useful gifts, thoughtful gifts, gifts that he hopes will help her enjoy the body that she inexplicably seems to despise. Goes everywhere she wants when he'd rather stay at home, helps with everything she asks for while his own list of things to do grows, struggles to make decisions and interact with people for her, even though it goes against everything in his nature. Tries to become what she wants him to be, because he wants to be everything she needs.
And his needs, he represses at times, gives in to at others. Seemingly at random she indulges them; sometimes she merely teases, or worse, makes promises she doesn't keep. He tries to tell himself that this is her way of exerting control, and that he should be grateful for it.
And things reach a head, and emotional discussion ensues, and each person blames himself or herself, and promises to do better. And they do for months, sometimes weeks.
And he finally turns for help, and pills help him sleep at night, and wake up in the morning, and stop thinking things that he shouldn't think about motorcycles and bridge abutments. And a therapist he can barely afford suggests ways for him to start conversations, and things to say... and sometimes he comes back for the next session and lies rather than admit that he couldn't talk.
Because talking hurts. When she makes jokes about how she'll get him to do something distasteful by tying him up first, knowing that he'll do anything to be helpless for a while... knowing that he hasn't enjoyed that experience in too many months to keep track of. When she comments on how she should find another slave to do all the "bondaging" since she's too lazy to do it. He pretends he doesn't hear it, but she says it again, several times, before and after scenes over several years. And he wonders, what if he suggested finding another partner to perform foreplay on her, so that he could just focus on the sex? Poor comparison, she has no particular need for sex. What if he suggested finding someone else to cook and clean for her? Poor comparison- as long as it requires no effort, she doesn't care who does it. What if? What if? He can find no comparison. He provides no unique value. But he knows that on a very basic level, after twelve years together and more painful honesty than he ever thought he could muster, she still doesn't understand. There is intimacy and vulnerability that he seeks only from the person he loves, to whom it is no more than an onerous chore.
And he does not want to be without her, and he does not want to be with another. He wants to cut deep inside himself, and remove that burden, and throw it to the ground while the blood still drains from his body, and set it afire, and not turn away until only ashes remain. But there is no thing that can be removed.
And so what would you tell this hypathetical sub? That it sucks to be him? There is no wisdom there. To leave? He knows he would die alone, likely before the year was out. To talk? He would be happy, now, to never talk again. To find more help, different help? To bounce from doctor to doctor, perhaps try doctors of the spirit? To beat every bush for a cure? To pick at the scabs again and again, hoping to receive a magic elixir? That taking a day off work and spending it drinking is not a step along any road that is worth following? He knows. He knows too much, but never about the right things.
Peace to all,
...dave
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