BDSM generally says there are two sides of the coin:
Dominance and Submission.
Yes, that is an oversimplification. Yes, some do not indulge in that kind of identity lifestyle, but practice kink a la carte, like rope and impact play– without any “dynamic” involved. But– if you spend any amount of time in the community, you’ll find that most of the folk you meet end up identifying somewhere along the spectrum of dominance and submission.
But how do you know which fits you, or where along the spectrum you lie? Well, it helps me to frame it slightly differently. Not as (D)ominance and (s)ubmission.
But as Power and Control.
Power and control are the two sides of my coin. Do I want power, or do I want control? Power and control are two vying forces. You cannot have both, or at least you can not have both in the same moment, in the same relationship (unless you are balancing a Switch relationship of sorts where perhaps you are 40/60 Dom/sub balanced with your partner who is 60/40 Dom/sub).
But if you are falling more or less into one Role or the other, you must allow your partner to have either Power or Control. You cannot be the one with all the power and all the control, while your partner simply follows along (without getting dangerously close to crossing the line from kink into abuse, which I won’t get into here).
To be Dominant, the way I see it, is to crave power.
My master craves power. Some will argue otherwise, but I cannot see you as dominant if you have no desire for power, for empire building, for nurturing those around you into the fullest sense of their being. If you’re one of those who claims dominance and your entire profile is dreams of submissives fulfilling your every wish and fantasy, well, good luck to you.
When I say empire building, I do not mean that you want to conquer nations by force, like a Viking. Yes, I consider that to be dominant, as well. It isn’t what I am speaking of in this context. Perhaps you have a dominating personality. Perhaps you like to. But if nobody turns to you, as a leader, you are not a Dom to me. If you are not building your legacy, nurturing and growing those you call your submissives, you are not a Domme. If you are thinking you are some god, some goddess, to be served and spoiled and bought treats? To be a Master or a Mistress is to hold power. What power do you hold?
I have my own Power, in my own right. I am not helpless. But I do not seek it out. I would not build my own empire, unless my Master pushed me. I am grateful for the push, as I do want my own queendom.
As a Submissive, I desire Control.
I want to feel my wants are being considered, even over the Dominant’s. I do not want my partner to act as a doormat, but if I want snuggles, and they are not necessarily snuggly, well, I get snuggled. If I need aftercare, the Dominant provides such (In some cases, I’ve even won them over and created something of a snuggle monster.) The submissive controls the scene; the Dominant merely guides it for her. You may call it “topping from the bottom,” but I don’t think of it that way. It keeps it safe, consensual, rather than one human being taking advantage of another, without any concern for that person’s well being.
In exchange, I allow the Power to be his power over me. It is, like anything else, a give and take. Otherwise it is not a relationship, but a….I don’t know what. An Owner with an Object, I guess.
One could argue that He controls me, but it’s a control I placed in His hands. A control I temporarily relinquish, over and over again (but is it really letting go of power, when you know the person will do what you want, make you happy, even as you know they are also satisfying their own desires?). Ultimately, I recognize I am still in control. I can stop the “scene” on a dime. He could do the same, but it would disrupt the scene. It would break me out of my subspace. It’s not fun when you can’t suspend your disbelief.
I once helped co-top a woman.
Because it was our first time together, and we barely knew each other, I kept checking in with the submissive, as well as the dominant. But I should be doing that, anyway, as a Top. I should either explicitly ask what she wants and if this is okay with her, or I should know her well enough to provide and meet those needs and wants without asking (which, after a certain point in the relationship, becomes something that does happen).
I wanted to ensure I gave her that control. I knew I did not connect with her on a level that I could assume her enjoyment. Are you okay? Is this okay? I may have overdone it, but I would rather have ruined her total enjoyment, than risked violating her consent. I do understand misunderstandings; I try to avoid them.
Why allow oneself to give up the power?
A part of me objects to it. Don’t let anyone have power over you! You are a strong woman. Truth is, the power doesn’t mean much to me, but it does to Him. I don’t want to own the scene, He does. Why not align ourselves to maximize our pleasure?
But without that balance of power, of roles, well, there really is no dynamic. In fact, I’d argue there isn’t much of a relationship.
So I’ve found which of the roles I wish to play.
I’ve found which desires suit who I am. I don’t want to worry about making the details right. I want to play. My master knows me, knows how to play my body to near perfection. He can take over and manage where I go and what I do. He knows how to make me do what I want. I know that in our space together, I can freely and absolutely let go.
Maybe I could play the part of the domme, except I don’t have any significant collection of toys, which I would want for that role. The idea of it appeals to me. I am not sure I am ready to play with Power, but perhaps in the future?