I rarely get a chance to read. I have always been a lover of books and generally have at least three books going at any given time. So right now I have an Australian history book, an actor’s autobiography, and my standard Scottish historical romance. Oh yeah, and a book on meditation.
I’m a sucker for a romance novel. I know, I know, they are trite. Some woman in some form of peril or distress is rescued by a god-looking piece of a man in a kilt (I generally go for Scottish stories). They are incredibly formulaic and I usually read one hundred pages in one sitting. Over a weekend I can usually manage to get through the latest acquisition while entertaining the kids and catching up on the laundry. They are a weakness, but I have a few writers I enjoy that spin a good story and don’t have too many euphemisms for a penis that drive me crazy. Sometimes you just want to read something that entertains you while you wait for the nurse to call you into the doctor’s office. I generally take two or three of them on any plane flight.
However, I was reading one of these the other evening and I began a internal struggle. Part of me kept getting frustrated at how much the female lead needed to be saved. Not that she was stupid, but she continued to get hurt or manipulated and needed rescuing. Now, she was being rescued by a big burly man who always made her come first, so I don’t think she was complaining, but the feminist in me kept shouting at her. Of course, then the submissive side just wished she was getting her hair pulled a little bit more. But even the sub in me wanted her to feel more comfortable taking charge.
I think there are several people who aren’t in the BDSM lifestyle, and even some that I have had the misfortune to run into on FetLife, that are under the extreme misconception that submissives are weak. Most of us, those I read on blogs and Fetlife, as well as the few I have met in person, manage households and hold jobs of some sort outside the home. While we enjoy the freedom of allowing someone else to take control of our lives in the bedroom (and also out, depending on the arrangement), that doesn’t mean that we can’t survive. The submissives/slaves that I have the fortune to know are the strongest, worldliest, most intelligent women (and men) I know.
So this is just a mini-rant to let you know that while I may have a sweeping beauty and Sir owns a kilt, I am not living a romance novel and I don’t need to be rescued from him or our relationship. If you would like to rescue me from my student loan debt or my laundry, please let me know in the comments.
*Please don’t judge my taking the full opportunity to dig up pictures of the Scottish countryside. It doesn’t come up often on a BDSM sex blog and I wasn’t going to miss the chance to look back through the holiday photos. You should be glad there aren’t about thirty, to be honest.*