Bright Spots

“We are all like the bright moon, we still have our darker side.” ~ Khalil Gibran

I know, because I read and watch and listen, that many people refer to their kinky proclivities, tastes, and desires as their dark side. And I know, because I’m a citizen of the kinky internet, that when you venture into many kinky spaces, they’re black and red, maybe black and purple. But dark colors, dark pictures, dark everything.

To each their own. I celebrate your ability to delight in that darkness.

But for me, in those moments when John Brownstone and I engage in behavior that outsiders would call deviant or twisted or dangerous, I don’t feel dark. It’s not a hidden corner of myself, dusted off and let into the light only occasionally.

Our D/s relationship and all the kinky fuckery things we enjoy, they are the purest part of who I am. When I let myself go, delighting (and even fighting) every available sensation, I feel myself opening up, becoming more of who I am, as if light is being poured into my soul.

Discovering submission was a thing and being a submissive was something I could do — that was the first moment I felt I understood myself. I didn’t shrink away, afraid it said something dark and wrong about me. I embraced it, full force, and thanked whatever (if any) deities there might be that I had an answer, that I made sense.

Submissive. It’s my truth. My truest truth, I think.

I know I’m one of the few lucky ones. Someone who can (mostly) live openly — at least online. I work for myself and as “Kayla Lords.” We have access to a vibrant local community that I can meet up with whenever I want. John Brownstone and I have found ways to integrate our power exchange into the most mundane part of our lives, so even when I’m not feeling my most submissive self, I can still access it, touch it, and swim in it.

That’s not everyone’s reality. And the people in our orbit can certainly dictate how openly we live our lives. I know. I’ve spent many words and nights agonizing over a double life.

But when I stop worrying about what others think (a seemingly impossible task but worth every ounce of effort). When I accept this is who I am, that I hurt no one, that I walk through this life with open eyes…My submission, my kinks, my absolute love of spankings and impact play and force and marks — they make me feel alive and whole in ways that little else does.

I question so much about myself. Am I good enough as a writer, a speaker, a professional? Are my dreams too big? Do I have any clue what the hell I’m doing? The thoughts rattle in my head on a near-constant basis.

But I don’t question my submissive self.

Don’t get me wrong. I question whether I’m doing a good job, and I worry I could be better. Of course I do. The anxious side of me is alive and well, too.

But there are no moments of wondering if I’m wrong, defective, or broken. This feels too good and too right.

One of the greatest gifts we can give ourselves is to know who we are — good, bad, ugly, and beautiful — to our very core. It’s an ongoing journey of self-knowledge. I don’t think it ever really ends, as there’s always something new to discover. But in the years since I’ve learned who I am in a relationship and what submission means to me, I’ve treasured this gift.

It’s not something to be hidden away. Kept private? Not brought out for unnecessary judgement from those who choose not to understand? Yes and yes.

But recognizing, owning, embracing, and loving my submissive self is the brightest spot in my life. Spotlight bright. Can’t be missed bright. See it from space bright. It shines out of me in the form of love.

You don’t have to see it to believe it’s there. John Brownstone sees it, and I feel it. And ultimately, that’s all that matters.

Welcome to Wicked Wednesday! This week’s prompt was about letting the first thing we see in our social media platform of choice inspire our post. I look at Twitter easily a few dozen times a day, so I see a lot. Most of it didn’t inspire anything. Until it did. Molly Moore and I may be in an infinite feedback loop of inspiration. Her Wicked Wednesday post this week was inspired my post yesterday, and her tweet about it lead me to read it, and it has been on my mind ever since.