I am insecurely attached.

In my Psych 101 class freshman year of college we learned about attachment theory and I see it pop up every couple of months in cultural and psychologically slanted articles about the state of affairs in relationships.  The theory, in its most basic form, is how you attached to your caregivers as a child affects your behavior and feelings in adult relationships.

Originally the researchers were only looking at it in terms of childhood development, but in the late 80’s folks began to see similarities in adult relationship styles.  If you were insecurely attached to your mother, for example, you’d be more likely to display similar characteristics in your romantic relationships.

There are four main types identified in adults:

  • secure
  • anxious-preoccupied
  • dismissive-avoidant
  • fearful-avoidant

The bottom 3 are all categorized as “insecure attachment” and I — lucky me — am a couple of those: fearful-avoidant in general and romantically and dismissive-avoidant with my mother and closest friends (according to this really cool test).

“People who are fearfully avoidant in their relationships are uncomfortable depending on others and serving as an attachment figure. Moreover, they worry that others may not be there emotionally when they are most needed.”  Dismissive-avoidant types “… are also not comfortable opening up to others and depending on or having others depend on them. In addition, they are not concerned with the question of whether the other person truly cares about them.”

This understanding about myself isn’t new, but it is important because it explains my total hyperventilation when men I date don’t show up in the myriad of ways one might not show up: ignoring texts, not following up after sex, being vague about plans, commitment, their feelings, etc.  Dating is a hot bed of psychological torture for the insecurely attached among us.  We can’t handle it and it all amounts to fear of abandonment and the push-pull dilemma of going for it or pretending we don’t care.

It’s exhausting.

Enter D/s into my life.  A place where I get to dictate the rules of engagement to control for my inabilities to trust others and my ambivalence to try and I feel a little calmer about things.  Apparently I am also way more devastated when things go sideways, but for a brief period of time I feel goooood.  And it’s worth the experience in general because I get to feel safe for a change.

Things with the Not liberal Liberal Sub have waned significantly since his visit.  I have stopped texting him because I have nothing to say.  He must be feeling similarly, though he did pop a text my way yesterday wishing me a happy day.

It’s just a matter of time before we alert one another to our feelings for one another.  “It was lovely meeting you.  I had a great time.  I don’t think we should pursue anything romantic or otherwise kinky together.  I’d be down for a glass of wine in London, though, if you’re around.”

So now it’s February and my self-assigned January Man Ban is over with and I’m talking to a sexy 39 yo vanilla guy that I kinda dig with ever-changing facial hair, random hot guys who aren’t really worth my time, and staring down at all my insecure attachment trappings thinking, “I got my eye on you, assholes.”

A couple of years ago I realized the benefits of applying the high standards of my D/s life to my vanilla one.  As a D-type I take less shit, I may even be slightly more securely attached, and after this last experience with a demanding and less-than-self-aware sub I feel even more armed to identify behaviors and character traits I don’t want. Insecure-attachment style or not.

If what I really and truly want is a fulfilling partnership replete with kinky sex and tender love then only I can choose for that.  My attachment style is the gauntlet, my will my armor.  Let’s see how I do.

Cheers.

[Ed. Note: If you’d like to read more about attachment theory, read this.]

 

February Photofest

I am a fantasy.

I gripped his throat as I bore down on him, clawed at his chest and pinched and twisted his nipples.  My hair hung about my shoulders wild and messy, and my breasts bounced as I rode him until I wore myself out, slumped down by his side and sunk into the mattress and an alcohol-laced sleep.

In the early dawn light his hips pulsed slowly against my rump and I sighed.  I was tired — but he persisted and so I engaged.

I played with his fat morning wood not absentmindedly until he asked that I climb back on top of him.  I obliged.  Tore open the condom, rolled it on.  “Guide you in,” I told him as he lay below me with his arms above his head.

What had been wet had dried and the push in was yummy.  I rocked and he guided my hand back to his throat.  I guided his hands to my breasts.

I worked on him, gently crushing his throat with my hand and rocking my hips, punishing his little nipples.  I filled his greedy mouth with my breasts and he suckled as he curved up inside of me again and again.

I rode him until I exhausted myself and slumped down by his side, deja vu. He began to pulse against me again.  I lifted my legs over his hip and he pushed back inside of me and curled around to my breast and latched on.

Later, as he jerked himself off beside me, he whispered that he wanted me to make him my bitch, code to grab his throat again.  I looked into his eyes and felt a million miles away.  I pinched his nipples and scratched his abs, whispered to him that his jizz was mine.

He came in a tumble and soiled my hand and filled his belly button.

I dozed for a little while, spooning him.  He pulled me closer into his back and seemed to fall asleep.  My alarm went off, the sun had crested and the room was bright, the sky a light grey.  I quickly and quietly dressed as my phone chimed with my ride’s arrival.

He stirred and rolled over, sat up for a peck and a hug and I left, exhausted.  I’m not sure I like fulfilling fantasies.

You don’t know me.
February Photofest

Men are so precious: How to weed out the idiots with your online profile

Let me set the stage.

I have a lengthy and well thought out profile on FetLife that outlines my requirements for a sub (fit, hung, significantly bigger than me to name a few) with an additional requirement nestled in it to vet the lazy, self-absorbed, and/or impatient.  It’s a line towards the bottom where I ask them to tell me what their favorite vacation destination is.  I have this kind of question in all my profiles, actually.

Remember that story about Led Zepplin or some ridiculously huge and famous band whose tour rider was 45 pages long and towards the back, but not at the very end because it’d be easy to spot, was buried a request to have their M&Ms sorted into different groups by color? [Update: it was Van Halen and “no brown M&Ms.”]

Yeah, well, if they showed up to a venue and there weren’t sorted M&Ms they’d walk out the concert promoters wouldn’t get paid.  It was a quick and easy way to know their rider hadn’t been read and they weren’t interested in rewarding folks that half-assed it.  Likewise, I’m not interested in dealing with a sub (or regular man, for that matter) that half-asses it with me, either.

The other thing you need to know is that I bother Ferns with my sub-tales all the time and as soon as I read the last message I copied it and sent it off to her with my thoughts.  Like, instantly. Thank god she loves me.

::

[My thoughts are in bold italics.]

Amongtheclueless
27M Sensualist
5w
Candidly speaking, I love your profile and would like to get to know you. If that feeling is mutual I would be quite happy. I have a lot to offer in the some of positive sexual energy and friendship. Im a pretty creative, intelligent, and naughty type. Hope to hear from you.
Happy to share more pics too, I actually reduced my images on here to be a bit more privacy oriented after it came to my attention that others were cat-fishing me.
[Lame ass form letter, but he’s hot and hung, so…]

Hy Jones
43F Domme
3w
Have you read my profile?

Amongtheclueless
3w
Yep
[Clearly he has not]

Hy Jones
3w
Prove it ;)
[I immediately regretted the winky face]

Amongtheclueless
3w
How so?
[Are you fucking kidding me??? BUT HOT SO…]

Hy Jones
3w
Read my profile and you’ll know what I’m talking about.

Amongtheclueless
3w
favorite vacation part? I love Paris. Riviera. France.
[What a fucking idiot.  I let it sit and 3 weeks later I get:]

Amongtheclueless
6h
Not interested ?

Hy Jones
1h
It’s not flowing, kid. This entire thread has been me pulling teeth. I haven’t enjoyed or been impressed by your correspondence. So, yeah. At this point I am not interested.

Amongtheclueless
45m
Kid? Get off your high horse. You’re not above anyone.

You can’t respond to this conversation because Amongtheclueless has deactivated their account, you’ve blocked them, or they’ve blocked you.
[BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA]

[Immediately copy and paste and send to Ferns]

::

It’s painful to read this for so many reasons, but this is what dating is like: someone routinely totally and completely misses everything that’s laid out in front of them, gets pissy, huffs off and learns absolutely nothing and goes and does it to someone else.  Me me me me me me!  TL;DR: it’s sum’ bullshit.

The additional preciousness of this correspondence is that he says to a Domme he’s hoping to hook up with, “you’re not above anyone.”  Oh man hahahahaha I can’t even!

Needless to say, I recommend to one and all to bury a little request of the reader/potential lover into your profiles.  It makes culling the herd that much easier and you might get a good fucking laugh out of it, too.