Portlandacdc
Male
A man of my generation and my background can be anything. Anything but weak.
We are taught to be strong. Always. To carry the load for others, to provide for others, to be the rock upon which others depend.
To hide inner feelings, for feelings are weakness. Rocks do not have feelings. And when you do have feelings, or anxiety, there is alcohol.
To fight. To physically suffer so that others may live. To be cannon fodder, so that others may thrive.
None of this was demanded of me. My *******, in fact, was a wonderfully caring, empathetic, good ******* who was never afraid to express love for his children. But the only time I ever heard him express weakness was right before he died, and that expression of pain (beyond "ouch, I stubbed my toe kind of pain") was how I knew he was in trouble.
And so too went my sexuality. It's innate. It's base. It's primal. Man fucks woman: subject, verb, object. And thus does the species propagate.
Yet, that man - strong, aggressive, masculine, dominant - does not make a good partner.
Sensual submission is a release, and place where a man can let go of that which makes him him. And, for me, expressions of desires to submit are expressions of vulnerability, of places in me that allow me to be complex, human, real. To connect as I am on a deeper level.
The forbidden grass of the taboo really is greener, especially in fantasy. And I seek a connection where that forbidden grass can be acknowledged, nurtured and explored for what it is - an expression of my humanity.
We are taught to be strong. Always. To carry the load for others, to provide for others, to be the rock upon which others depend.
To hide inner feelings, for feelings are weakness. Rocks do not have feelings. And when you do have feelings, or anxiety, there is alcohol.
To fight. To physically suffer so that others may live. To be cannon fodder, so that others may thrive.
None of this was demanded of me. My *******, in fact, was a wonderfully caring, empathetic, good ******* who was never afraid to express love for his children. But the only time I ever heard him express weakness was right before he died, and that expression of pain (beyond "ouch, I stubbed my toe kind of pain") was how I knew he was in trouble.
And so too went my sexuality. It's innate. It's base. It's primal. Man fucks woman: subject, verb, object. And thus does the species propagate.
Yet, that man - strong, aggressive, masculine, dominant - does not make a good partner.
Sensual submission is a release, and place where a man can let go of that which makes him him. And, for me, expressions of desires to submit are expressions of vulnerability, of places in me that allow me to be complex, human, real. To connect as I am on a deeper level.
The forbidden grass of the taboo really is greener, especially in fantasy. And I seek a connection where that forbidden grass can be acknowledged, nurtured and explored for what it is - an expression of my humanity.
