All this talk of men, sex, and femininity, yet again, has got my mind sizzling with ways in which I might be able to explain to you what’s so awesome about finding the right mate. Some of the women here can’t wrap their minds around the concept of being submissive to their man, a man, some man, at some point in time, and that’s quite understandable. I’m not a fan of having to absolve my personhood either, so maybe it’s time for a different point of view.

Submission…. But For Why…?

The concept of submission (off the top of my mop head) brings to mind thoughts of Bible versus, Quran quotes and other man made plumbs that pretty much make life as a woman, shitty. The very word submission makes me think of groveling at the knees of a King, begging for him to spare my life, or the lives of my friends. The expectation of men that a woman will be willing to submit is a flawed on. From my female point of view, it seems submission is more about giving up something as a show of dedication than it is about gaining anything by participating in the act of submission.

Submission.

It makes me think of force, and manipulation.

Unquestionable. Obligation. Demanded.

I’m not too turned on by the concept myself. I play power control games, but what I don’t do often, is play the role of submissive. I didn’t obey in Catholic school, I only gave the appearance of obeying by doing what I wanted and not getting caught. No thunderbolts got me, but I did learn that serving my own goals felt good and made much more sense than blindly following rules. I am also a model employee, because I do what I do above, and under your radar, so you don’t even notice my B.S.

I could earn a hefty penny if I would only learn to allow others dominion over me. I could be married, I could be in certain jobs, I could be a lot of things.

But I’m not built like that.

And before you get started, let me be clear, this doesn’t mean that I’m a control freak.

This doesn’t mean that I’ve been scarred by some bogey man lover and can’t allow myself to trust others.

This does not mean that I have Daddy issues and can’t trust men in general (quite the opposite).

My being unwilling to submit to a man’s or the authority of men (argue with me if you want but ALL laws are made by men; politics is majority male and has always been, as are our laws)  or finding the option not something I find beneficial is not a reflection on how I feel about men in general.

It doesn’t mean I don’t love, desire and respond to masculine power, because I do. I honor masculine power by treating it with respect when I am faced with it. Men are all around us; masculine power is harder to come by and the gender of the person doesn’t really much matter.

Power is a very, well, powerful thing. And for a person to give up full control to another there must first be the need to let go of oneself. Even if the desire is forced; I don’t feel the need to allow myself to be dominated. Even when I am seemingly following the rules, my motivation is self serving. I am not doing things simply because I must, I do things because I choose to; there is a benefit to me.

Giving up something is where submission lives.

Surrendering is where we gain something by allowing ourselves to be in the care of another. My approach to this level of intimacy, or rather my belief, is that when I have challenged, and observed, and have decided that I will ‘give myself to someone’ it is done because I gain something by doing it.

Surrendering is rewarding someone with a level of knowing, higher and deeper than that given to others.  Surrendering is what happens when I know a man is courting me, and we dance, in a back and forth communication of actions and reactions. When he is hitting his marks, and impressing me, and then going beyond that point, to where he is engaging me, enticing me and drawing me into his energy, there then comes a point when I have decided that he shall have what it is that he wants.

There comes a time when he has earned my trust. There comes a time when he has properly gained by favor and when I reward him, OUR exchange will be cherished, valued and taken care of.

Now, when I say surrender, you may think I’m talking about sex, and I’m not, though sex is an aspect of surrender. The act of surrender can be when he’s hit me with sharp points during a spirited debate. I respect that he is not willing to indulge me by allowing me to be right so we can avoid ‘arguing’, he’s not intimidated by my ability to come back sharp and without apology. By doing something as simple as having a conversation, we are creating intimacy because he is showing me who he is and how he’s willing to treat me. He’s letting me be myself.

The act of surrender isn’t specifically sexual in nature. I’ve had co-workers trying very hard to get to know me, to get closer to me, to befriend me, of which I keep people at arms length for personal and professional reasons….until the day I didn’t when I got into a conversation about nail polish colors, hair products and types of chocolate. I couldn’t resist the girl any more, and so I surrendered, and my best friend took me hostage and I’m so very grateful to have her in my life.

Surrendering can only happen when you are authentic to you. Once you learn to give you out to the world you will learn to gauge people’s reaction to the authentic you. Those who are worthy of YOU will show themselves worthy of you. Those who are less than worthy of you will clearly display how they aren’t ready, willing or able to deal with all of the person that you are and all that you have to offer.

What does it mean to surrender?

This night I had decided that I would not deflect his attempts at physical-ness if he tried. We’ve been very touch and go, for quite awhile, and only because I am not an easy person to catch up with in person, I avoid male suitors, I’m not looking to fall in love and I’m not here to ‘be’ anyone’s girlfriend, jump off, lover or partner. He’s been so patient, and always made sure to invite me to hang out with him, and to keep me abreast of what he has going on. I take note that he doesn’t have a tantrum when I abruptly cancel on him, since my life is often hectic and making plans is complicated when you’re in the wind.

We spend time at his house, and he allows me to think, and to write, and tap away at my keyboard uninterrupted. He does not require me to babysit him, or pay him my full attention for long amounts of time because he, like me, is an introvert. He understood that we spend time in our heads (notice how I now describe this person as ‘we’) and so he let me, without making me feel like I was neglecting or insulting him. He sits nearby and taps out his own creative endeavors.

We don’t discuss what we are making because artists are sensitive about their shit. I’m bought water though I protest, but he doesn’t exchange it for anything else, he just tells me to drink it because water is good for me. I can’t argue with that fact and so I do drink water and go back to what I’m doing.

I like his company. He’s very easy going. He has me doing things I don’t normally do, like leave my computer behind so that we can take a walk in the night air. Self sufficient tomboy, I, takes his extended hand as he helps me jump across puddles created by a recent rain shower. I don’t need help, but that doesn’t stop me from allowing him to be of assistance. He threads his fingers through my own and we wander the streets, talking and taking note of the houses, trees, and other interesting things. It’s not before long, that the sun comes, and so we park ourselves on a bus stop bench in a great place to watch it all occur. I realize I haven’t been outside ‘breaking night’ in years, though it was something I did all the time back in the day.

He has me doing things I forget to do now that I’m so busy and important, and I remember how much I enjoy these things. I look forward to seeing him so that we can do ‘us’ stuff.

Previously during a visit, I missed the last thing smoking out of there, I was stuck for the night and it was blazing summer, can’t sleep in sticky sheet, type of hot. He decided to take a shower to cool down and walks past me, nude, allowing me to take in every last inch of his masculine glory. He was so nonchalant about it, and I knew he was pressing me for what could be. I was dizzy from the primal heat that suddenly filled my head though I did manage to hold firm, and to leave the house on the first thing smoking with my dignity still intact the next morning. His boldness amused me, as it was something I would have done while trying to entice a new hopeful to move things along faster.

Upon our next meeting I knew I felt a certain way about him. I liked him, I trusted him, and I realized I wasn’t going anywhere. We’re not a standard couple, and so I did mental gymnastics over my decision to move forward with him until I realized I was fighting myself, I was trying to find a reason to dismiss him and he had given me none. I just wasn’t being honest with myself. I had reasons and problems and worry, he, like any man, was only interested in getting to know me.

I decided there would be no more arguments in my head.

There would be no more purposely ignoring his calls ‘so I don’t seem so pressed’, and no more  denying that he’s awesome and that I’m digging him some type of way. Upon our next meet, things were different, and when I gave him the absolute most valuable thing in the world, my trust and emotions, and he returned back to me something I could never give myself.

Acceptance. Friendship. Trust. Honesty. Loyalty.

Submission is giving away a valuable part of yourself.

Surrendering is sharing a valuable part of yourself.

Submission is motivated by force.

Surrender is by motivated by choice.

Submission is groveling at the feet of another.

Surrendering is evolving alongside another.

Or, at least, that’s my take on things…..