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  • Writer's pictureWomen of Drummer

It Begins

It’s abrupt sometimes, or rather, feels abrupt, how my preferences and life have changed in my Leather journey. Considering it’s been over the span of going on thirteen years (which happens to be my favorite number) I suppose it’s not as abrupt as it seems.

Being raised as I was, I was shaped to be submissive to the Jehovah’s Witness religion, to its leaders, my father, and eventually at nineteen to my husband, even though I knew I wasn’t cisgendered or heterosexual. I did what I had to survive within the life that had been chosen for me.

When there is no safe place to protest, no way to take charge of your own life, you find happiness where you can. For the first thirty years of my life I believed and tried so very hard to conform to the expectations being thrust upon me by the faith I was raised in. When I reached my third decade I left my marriage and the religion, and began to make my own way.

When the kinky lifestyle found me a few years later it felt so familiar, like coming home. I was terrified of this desire to join such a salacious way of life, even if I was capable of hiding it from everyone around me. Finally I met someone who helped me work through my hesitations. I’d been afraid, you see, afraid that if I gave into these desires I’d never look back, even if I found the perfect “one” for me, even if they were vanilla. I was afraid of missed chances, and afraid of the change that I felt looming, one I didn’t know how to escape.

Exhausted from running, I dove in.

I entered as a submissive, knowing that I wouldn’t stay in that role forever. Humbling myself to learn as much as I could from the bottom up, I knew I was far too independent to tolerate the amount of control typical in such a relationship. It’s fun in play, sure, but there is no way I’d give myself or my life entirely to anyone. It’s just not possible for me to do. And believe me, I’ve tried to get there many times.

Exploring kink had a transformative effect on me, and has always been more spiritual for me than it has ever been sexual. The number of people who look crestfallen when I tell them I won’t touch them sexually has been surprising, but not really. Kink is inherently sexual, even if I’m not.

From pro Dommes to people starting out just like I was, the scene was flush with life and possibilities. For once in my entire existence I had the opportunity and freedom to become whatever I could envision. I tried it all, avoiding the overtly sexual and leaning towards the spiritual aspect of kink. By placing myself into situations that echoed former trauma I was able to heal wounds that nothing else had ever touched.

No medication ended the depression and self-harming I took from my upbringing.

Kink and the community I met within helped me build myself up into a person I never realized was there. There were hints throughout my growth, but I truly didn’t know what I was capable of.

I entered as a girl who didn’t know her own desires and plans because every single one I ever had was made FOR me by the organization of Jehovah’s Witnesses and their followers. I entered knowing I was queer, but afraid to pursue any relationships with women, as I’d been brainwashed from infancy that this natural desire was a sin. I entered the kinky lifestyle only having experienced heterosexual relationships. I entered a submissive, primarily monogamous, confused, excited, and in a flurry of expectation. I now know I’m more single-at-heart, a demi-sexual lesbian, a Sadist, and poly-minded yet preferring a life alone.

While knowing these things I also accept that change is essential to life, and as time swims past I’ll likely evolve and change yet again.

Wren Bates

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