I am in a femdom relationship with someone who is slowly transition MtF. It took me a long time to get over myself and deal with the boundaries I established for myself as a lesbian femme in order for me to accept this lovely relationship. Because he (and yes he still uses the H word) was born male and I am lesbian, people have been quite snotty regarding us. (not here) I have to argue my right to call myself a lesbian. These people mainly piss me off because they want our relationship to be pigeon holed under homophobic and transphobic conditions.
I found so much strength beating down my self inflicted barriers and claiming my right to be who I am. I LOVE packing. I LOVE B&D and have even started getting much more experienced in S&M as well. Physically I was waylaid for a time, but its amazing how creative one can get when one is hungry for power exchanges and all that goes with it.
my gurl has the additional stigma of being caught betwixt and between and having his identity and role questioned. He knows he is betwixt and between and thus, is his reason for keeping the H pronoun. I have never met a more honest and real person in my life.
I have had people call me closeted for being in this relationship. Really? How is this any different than all the other twists and turns of any other person in the LGBT family? I am a lesbian, involved with someone who is transitioning to becoming who he is, a female bodied person. Until then, we accept his male body that serves his femaleness. How is that hard to understand? If you can turn on a light switch, you can turn on your mind to accept this too. Calling me closeted was foundationally transphobic. And I wont accept it...
I have tried to be a submissive femme because thats what I thought would make me happy. It didnt. Once I became real and honest, I came out of my own closet and accepted the FemDom in me. I have never been happier...
I am a FemDom. I am no longer struggling with my own power struggles now that I have accepted who I am and have begun living in this life.
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Pole bachit, a lis chuye.
The field sees, the forest hears
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