Kink isn’t just part of my sexuality. It often enhances arousal and many aspects turn me on, but it is more than that – it is how I am who I am. I have difficulty expressing myself and allowing myself to feel emotions fully – kink helps me do those things in a healthier way.
When I am bound, I have no choice but to relax. I can’t escape, I can’t move on, I can’t go somewhere else – I have to exist where I am. My mind has to accept that I am where I am, and in that I can focus and my mind can let go.
When someone hurts me, it gives me the socially acceptably opportunity to react. People think I’m easy to read, that my reactions are obvious. And, to some extent, they are – I can’t lie well, my facial reactions to things are visible. I don’t often disclose what’s below the surface. I’m scared to show my real reactions to people. I monitor and control myself all the time, just in case, to keep the peace. I want all those around me to be at optimal happiness, and I’ll do my part to get them there. It’s hard, though, always being on point. Always worrying if I’ll react inappropriately. I joke about being awkward, that’s why – I’m worried I’m reacting inappropriately. When someone hurts me, reacting is appropriate, it’s expected. It’s allowable, even appreciated. I can relax, and I can let go.
Without these things, I’m less. I’m less vibrant, and less balanced. I get more run down. I get more jaded, sad, lonely.
Sometimes I wish I had other ways of coping. Sometimes I think back to times when I did, and I wonder if I was better off. I wonder if I should be focusing on therapy, or on religion. I wonder if I should be pouring my energy into certain self improvement projects to try to get these same emotions. At the end of the day, however, this is now what I’ve become relatively reliant on for staying balanced. Unfortunately, without it, I’m at a loss. I’m adrift and I need someone to toss me a line – literally and figuratively – to rein me back in.