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Assholes have a gift for making other people feel like assholes for refusing to play their asshole-ish games
🕑 Added 2024-02-19 06:35:17 +0000 UTCAn ex once convinced me to walk over the guard rail on a cliff edge. I was still having epileptic seizures in those days, so I didn’t climb ladders, let alone unguarded cliffs. I didn’t do anything that could kill me during a seizure, so I can’t tell you why I hopped over that rail that day. Maybe it was that he was my dom, and as such, I tended to think he knew better than I did. Maybe it was that he swore to keep me safe. Maybe it was because I felt histrionic for refusing to take the risk, and maybe it was because a seizure wasn’t guaranteed, therefore I felt like a princess for refusing to go on this so-called adventure. My "dom" said he had something spectacular to show me, so it was my subly duty to follow him into a potentially fatal situation.
And that’s exactly what I did.
On the first “no”, I knew the worst could happen to me.
On the second “no”, I knew the worst could happen to me.
By the time the fifth “no” came out of my mouth, I had convinced myself the worst would not happen to me. Hell, somewhere in the musty reaches of my brain, I even told myself that nobody ever fell off cliffs. That's the glory of cognitive dissonance--You have to resolve it somehow. If a man refuses to heed your boundaries, you have two options:
- Create an antagonistic situation by defending your boundaries.
- Keep it light by doing what’s asked of you.
That’s often how coercion works.
In the years that followed, I learned that many people had died scaling that cliff, but on that sunshiney day, I believed my dominant when he told me he’d protect me from falling. He didn’t protect me, of course. He scrambled ahead of me, rendering any hope of support futile. That's only natural because people who ask you to scale guardrails don't care about you enough to keep you safe.
The view behind the guardrail was every bit as beautiful as the view in front of it. The only difference was that I had my heart in my throat and could barely move from the terror.
I thought a lot about that experience in the years that followed. Ultimately, I realised if my guy had cared about me at all, he wouldn’t have pushed me past my first “no” or taken me on a trip like that in the first place. The experience has become an icon of my people-pleasing habits in kink scenarios.
That day, I learned I was willing to risk my life to keep a top happy.
In the years that followed, I learned that was fucked up.
More importantly, I learned that if I hold my ground, it isn’t me who’s creating an antagonistic situation. It’s the person ignoring my “no.”
My optimism bias and aversion to being a drama queen are the greatest risks I face as a masochist, and the hazards are very real. I’ve heard many tales of bodies broken in the wake of dangerous scenes, so I now know that the worst can, indeed, happen. Some people fall off cliffs. Some people fall off chairs with rope tied around their necks. I didn’t invent that last scenario. It happened to a bottom in my city, and they, too, said a lot of “noes” before settling on a “yes.”
They’re not a part of the kink scene anymore. They don’t have the health or resources for such luxuries. They’re too busy gathering the spoons to cope with their chronic pain.
Assholes have a gift for making other people feel like assholes for resisting their attempts to exploit us, but don’t let them convince you. If someone wants you to walk over a figurative guardrail, call an Uber. Never see them again. They don't deserve the beauty of your presence.
