by Kayla Kuffs
10/20/04
Born in the early 60's, I was too young understand the sexual revolution. In the 70's, I lived in small town North America, and the drugs, sexual freedoms, and bra burnings bypassed me completely. I heard about feminism though television and through my mother's lament that feminism was a girl's worst enemy. Gone were the days where men worked and women stayed home to raise the children. Latchkey kids were the norm; television babysat the children as both parents were expected to work to bring home the bacon. The women, however, still took on much of the home duties, as well as the duties of a full-time job. My mother's point? What was so damned freeing about holding down two full time jobs?
I became aware of politics in the late 80's and early 90's. National politics baffled me. Nothing made sense. How could it? Most politicians have the gift of turning a lie into a vague truth -- what they say isn't what they mean, and what they do has little to do with what is best for me. I chose not to try to figure out this labyrinth of doublespeak, and made my way through the 80's and 90's reasonably oblivious of politics, glass ceilings, and female equality.
I owned my own business, I managed offices, I managed regions, coming into contact with many powerful people, both men and women, and had no close contact with feminists. The glass ceiling was not an issue for me -- I went as high as my education and life experience would let me. Professionally, I was where I should be.
My personal life was a different matter altogether. I had a terrible time maintaining relationships with men. My way of living in a relationship very much mirrored the 50's family model. I preferred the man to take the leading role. I wanted them to make the majority of choices; I loved serving, cooking special dinners, tending to them. I didn't understand why so much of my doting was not appreciated. My actions were suspect -- what did I want? They felt guilty, as if they were not contributing enough to me. They had been raised in a feminist era where women were supposed to be equal, and therefore they bent over backwards to allow that to happen, and didn't quite know how to deal with a woman who wasn't enamored with all that perceptional equality.
In the late 90's, I stumbled onto BDSM and read about submissive women. My heart pounded in my chest as I read story after story and article after article on what a power exchange relationship was and how the submissive woman fit into it. For me, all the pieces of my personal puzzle fell into place. I was no longer an oddity; a throwback from the 50's where women cared for their men because that was what was expected. Here was a place where I could thrive, where I was valued, where I could freely be me.
It was a breath of fresh air. All my nurturing skills bloomed. My confidence soared, as each step forward I took allowed me to evolve into stronger woman, sure in my place in the world. I was appreciated, cared for, encouraged, and supported. I, in return provided the same. Nobody was uncomfortable with the way things were, at least nobody who understood the yin yang of a dominant and submissive relationship. The feminist culture, however, appeared to be enraged that I had found my niche. Apparently, I, and women like me, were in desperate need of rescuing.
There is no consideration for the fact that we chose our life. There is no consideration for the strength we found in our submission. There is no consideration for the powerful positions we held outside the home. We are considered downtrodden, oppressed, and abused. The whole thing is bizarre.
Yes, on the surface it goes against every principle of the feminist movement. There is little opportunity for the submissive woman to take charge. Dominant men run the household; the submissive strives to meet their standards. In the areas we do have the power to decide, it is because we've been given that power by our dominant. Generally it is the dominant who has the final say in most issues, although also generally, (and this is not acknowledged by many feminists), the submissive's opinions and comments are considered prior to a decision being made.
Submissives tend to dress to please their dominant. We tend to cook what they like, clean as they prefer, work outside the home for the hours they feel we should. The dominant is usually considered first when a decision is made by the submissive. And most definitely it is he who holds the remote control to the television.
This is not to say we do not have interests beyond the home. Most of us work, have hobbies, home-school children, and do a multitude of things to enrich our lives, just as the feminist contingent of the female population does. Most of us play an important role in supporting our mate, as do the wives of men in powerful positions. Most of us have the support of our dominant to grow and enrich our own lives, as do most other women in healthy relationships.
Sexually, we have an opportunity to be free and even more experimental than we might ever have been. Our sexuality plays an integral part in our relationships. We are expected to communicate our desires. We are expected to please our dominant. We are expected to have our personal boundaries stretched and overcome. We are expected to embrace sexual activity.
To many modern-day feminists, all of this is abhorrent. The idea of living up to somebody else's expectations goes completely against their doctrine. We are preached to, in hopes of getting us to see the light, to see the errors of our ways, to come over to the light side where all things are equal and we can choose when and why and how we with to participate in relationships, jobs, sex, and any other communication between a man and a women. We are told we are weak and have no stamina or strength. We are told we are allowing ourselves to become conditioned to a man's world, and that we soon will not be able to think for ourselves.
It's a bizarre quandary that female submissives face. In grabbing for the brass ring that the feminist movement put within our reach, our choice is to forgo most of what that brass ring stands for. In following our hearts, in knowing our choice is the very best thing possible for us, we turn our back on a large segment of the feminist movement. And yet it is very likely that it is that movement that gave us the ability to make the choice in the first place.
We believe in equal pay for equal work, we believe that women should have power over their own bodies, we want women's issues to sit equal with men's in health-related research. We want all the same things that feminists want. Except when in the home, we want to relinquish a great deal of the control that most feminists think we should strive for.
Even worse, we want to be sexual objects. We want, no, we need, to please our dominant partner. We are willing to explore their sexual fantasies as well as tell them ours. We're willing to try things we wouldn't try if left to our own resources.
Of course, what doesn't seem to be understood is with all that comes huge sexual satisfaction, multiple orgasms, full body orgasms. Orgasms that many women will never achieve in their lifetimes. Most of our dominants are skilled in the art of pleasing a woman sexually. We like sex, we want sex, and we like our sex controlled, spontaneous, and extravagant. We tend to make sexuality an important part of our relationships and we learn, taking classes and reading books on how our bodies react to various stimuli. And yet, due to a great deal of misunderstanding, our feminist sisters seem to think we're mistreated. And we end up having to defend our choices and make attempts to prove we're not being abused.
I think it is fair to say that submissive women appreciate the feminist movement and what it has done for women over the ages. We benefit greatly from the rights that were won for us in generations past. We fully support the ideals of being able to choose our own destinies and not be discriminated against simply because we were born female. But it is also fair to say we would like to be accepted for what we are by our feminist sisters, and allowed to celebrate the life we have sought out and adopted as our own. The feminist movement gave us these choices, yet, ironically, it is that same movement that we often must defend ourselves against.
