For what it’s worth, for the dozen or so of you who still read my blather, I’m admitting to a moment of weakness and foolishness. Nothing came of it, but I figured it was worth looking at anyway.
Like it or not, we’re still in the middle of a pandemic. Even with things reopening, I don’t think it’s safe to be in crowds of people. John and I are continuing to do takeout. I’m going to put a hold on my gym membership. The curve of the first wave never flattened and now they are talking about the second wave. I don’t think this is going away anytime soon. Ergo… even if Shadow Lodge goes ahead with the party in Vegas over Labor Day, John and I will not go.
I would consider carefully playing one on one with a trusted partner, though. If I could meet one who was willing to be patient, take things slowly, observe all the safety rules, etc.
A week or so ago, I heard from a man on FetLife who, at first, sounded exactly like who I was seeking. He wrote well. He loved spanking. Our world views were on the same page. He’d been isolating and took the pandemic very seriously. He was attractive, fit, educated, healthy, didn’t smoke or do drugs. And he was local, had his own place where he could host. In his profile and in his introduction to me, he stressed about how he believed in taking the time to establish trust and a connection, and that there was no rush. It seemed he was experienced in the scene and had been around long enough to know what was what.
He said nice things. Didn’t just say that I’m attractive, although he stressed that many times. Said I sounded like I had a good head on my shoulders, that I was smart, seemed like a lot of fun and he thought we’d get along well. He said, more than once, that I was “perfect.” So, I wrote back. We exchanged two or three brief messages. So far, so good.
Then last Friday, he sent me a message that threw me for a loop. Said he wouldn’t meet anyone for coffee right now, not with the virus and particles everywhere and so forth. However… I could come to his place and we could sit outside on his balcony, see where chemistry takes us.
I’m sorry, what??
Okay, this is BDSM 101, kids. You meet publicly first. Coffee, a drink, a meal, whatever you are comfortable with. You do not just up and go to a man’s house right off the bat when you don’t know him, or know of him through trusted others. Period. I couldn’t believe he was suggesting I do this.
So I wrote back, telling him I was sorry, but I couldn’t possibly do that. That I’d been meeting play partners for over 24 years and vetting them in public first. (There have been a couple of exceptions over all those years, but that’s exactly what they were, exceptions. And I’d had good communications with the men beforehand.) I said it seemed we both had much to offer, and hopefully we could figure out a way to move forward, carefully. That I understood “cabin fever” (his words) very well, but that I had to be safe.
Didn’t hear back. Five days went by. Then I got a message that was in a very different tone from all the others. It was part resentful, and part coaxing.
He said we were at an impasse, because I wouldn’t “step out of my comfort zone,” because I wouldn’t “bend a little.” That trying to meet with me was like trying to push a boulder up a very steep hill, and that he found “endless emails” frustrating. And then, he painted a sexy, tempting picture of what could happen if I would just come over, take his hand, and… so on.
I didn’t reply. But I was really, really angry and upset, and wasn’t quite sure why, besides the obvious that the guy’s a manipulative jerk.
Here’s where the confession part comes in.
I think I was rattled because, deep down inside, a part of me wanted to cast caution to the wind, ignore everything I knew, and just go “have an adventure.”
I mean, fuck it. I’ve been holed up for months. I haven’t played since February. Every damn day is some sort of bad news. And there is nothing to look forward to in the near future. Here was my chance to break out a little, go do something wild and forbidden and sexy and have some damn fun for a change. To feel sexy and free and attractive and naughty and just forget all this shit for a couple of hours.
And the fact that even a tiny part of me felt this way was horrifying to me. I know better than this! No, I wasn’t going to do it. But damned if I didn’t want to, just a little. Because I’m only human.
Anyway… turned out it didn’t matter. The morning after he’d written that latest message to me, I woke up to another one.
I’ve decided that it’s just too complicated to continue — good luck with all and be safe.
In other words: “You didn’t do things the way I wanted, so you’re not worth any more of my time.” Also: “I know you’re going to say no, so I’ll reject you first.”
Before I put this behind me, I had to have a final word. I wrote back:
Your profile reads: “I like to go slow at first to develop a genuine connection, kindred spirits, feelings and trust.”
And yet, after a few brief exchanges in which I know next to nothing about you, you expect me to ignore one of the cardinal rules of BDSM, show up at your home without meeting you first. When I politely decline that, you throw up your hands, say “fuck this,” call our messages “endless emails” and I go from perfect to a boulder on a steep hill.
Everything about this has a clear message: “If you don’t give me immediate gratification, I can’t be bothered with you.”
Thanks for the early warning, I guess. I am a person of value and worth bothering with. Sorry you didn’t think so.
Didn’t hear anything back, of course. He’s moved on to find someone more gullible, more lonely and in need. I may be all three of those, but I’m not stupid. I. Know. Better. All emotions and desires aside, I know what’s right and what’s safe. He wasn’t.
And, as many people (including John) reminded me yesterday, it’s fortunate that he revealed who he really was this early on, before I got further invested. Or worse.
So why am I writing this? I guess because I’m reminded that, no matter how much experience we have, no matter how much we know better, we can still be swayed. We can still fall prey to a vulnerable moment and ignore our instincts, or want to. That these are scary times and a lot of us are not thinking clearly. These are the times when narcissists and predators can thrive. Don’t let them. And if someone tries to make you feel like you’re not worth bothering with, fuck them. (Figuratively speaking.) Because you are. And the people who don’t care to take the time, who just want what they want and want it now — their loss.
How ironic that his final words to me were “Be safe,” when he wanted me to be anything but. However, I will say the same to all of you. Please. Be safe. In these tough times, where so many of us are feeling vulnerable, uncertain, alone, scared, angry — keep your head. Keep your ears and heart open to your inner voice that knows best.
Hope everyone has a peaceful weekend. And Happy Father’s Day to the dads. ♥