I never thought I would think twice about being sweet, too sweet, nice, expressive. This issue first came to a head for me when I started out as a professional dominant - I thought to myself, oh, am I not bitchy enough for this? I realized how silly that thought was and saw my kind demeanor as an ally, not something to distance myself from. Certainly, men see me for cruel and extreme encounters, but these encounters rely heavily on fantasy and developing the fantasy relies on an origin of vulnerability and love, respect, and in a lot of ways, sweetness.
That really irked me and I seriously questioned again my legitimacy as someone practicing domination. Can you be a sweet person and impeccably cruel at the same time? I thought, well, what are the characteristics of a good domme? I made a list: self-aware, intelligent, alpha, controlling, managerial, caring, thoughtful, stern, empathetic, passionate, etc. Sure, those are roles, but to practice domination it requires a wheelhouse of generally positive and sane attributes.
I determined her read to be bogus and her perception of me limited. My sweetness actually feeds into all these descriptions and it is a place where I like to be - in contradiction. It is an asset to my sexuality to be a chameleon, not something I have to hide. And really, my sweetness comes out in strange ways. Because I want you to be better for me and I care for your betterment, you must take 40 lashes. You acknowledge my kindness with a delicate sigh. I will make you a flower arrangement for your birthday, slapping and spitting on you later in bed.
I show my sensitivity in all kinds of ways and in varying degrees. I have permission because I am a human being. Something I forget frequently, but remember in times of desperation or sadness at my divided self.
We identify with the fluttering from one thing to another and feeling moments as they come. Sweetness or rage or bliss is never a permanent state. They live and they die but were true for the moment.
