Are Some Things Forever?

I've been in a relationship for a number of months, and that's part of my absence from the blogosphere. Quietlisten is the part of me that is made up of a laundry list of fetishes, interests, and ideas, as well as the hopes and fears that follow from that list. So as I have built trust and gotten to know this other person, I've put all that "stuff" into the metaphorical closet and hung a metaphorical sign reading "Greasy Car Parts and Dirty Jock Straps; Please Open For Cleaning." Shocker; to date it has been completely passed by. After some time, though, Quietlisten has started jiggling the doorknob, testing the hinges, and is about ready to kick the door into splinters.

All of this makes me wonder about the wisdom of developing fetishes that may not be well accepted by a more traditional partner. I'm not talking about the typical fetishes such as corsets (*whimper*), high-heeled thigh boots (*groan*), and basic BDSM gear. Having a little tie-up with sex is pretty passe these days. But when your fetishes are more relationship-focused it gets a bit dicey to interweave any of those -- let alone all of them -- with a healthy, loving relationship with an unsuspecting partner.

Take, for example, control. I dream about being controlled, about being vulnerable to someone I care about and meeting her expectations, putting myself second to her wishes. But I need to have a deep level of trust and committment to want someone to control me. "I'm a Domme, get on your knees" would make me break into fits of laughter unless I genuinely respected and trusted the woman saying it. And the deeper the committment to each other, the deeper and more expansive I'd enjoy the control because I'd trust that our full lives were incorporated into the tapestry, not just the fetish.

I also love cross-dressing, though I have found that it's almost universally despised by men and women alike. Provide me with a list of blogs written about the joys and wonders of feminizing a man, whittle those down to the ones claiming to be written by women, and I would guess that better than 90% of the time it's really a cross-dressing man looking for an audience for his fantasies. Nothing wrong with that (besides being deceptive, but this is the internet) but the point is that there are almost no real-world non-pro-Domme women who genuinely LIKE that fetish. That's a huge shame, because if done right it can shine a bright light into parts of a man's mind and soul that cannot be revealed in other ways. Yes, many cross-dressers do a horrendous job of using cross-dressing to connect and understand, but there are a few of us who actually see it that way.

So why all of this talk about fetish and acceptance? Well, I'm approaching the point in the relationship where I'll have to push hard to convert the initial hints I've been dropping -- constructively and well-timed, by the way -- into a better picture of who I am. I have to do it in a way that doesn't leave me driving around town late at night in the rain wondering how I could have messed up this great opportunity with this amazing person. There's a clock ticking... go too fast and I'm a pervert; go too slow and I've been lying through omission.

I'm tempted to do triage to simplify the problem, to just ignore the fetishes and desires and thoughts and the huge and wonderful world I have built inside my head. I could probably survive for quite a while going through the missionary motions while wondering what I gave up. That's not healthy. Neither is losing this relationship.

Ideally, we'd plumb the depths of our respective sexualities and become closer through them. Maybe she would enjoy having her home cleaned by a guy in a simple maid's dress who wants desperately for her to be happy. Maybe she would love to send me off to work with the key to my chastity device in her purse, giggling to herself through the day that she has that kind of power and control over me... and my loving every minute of it. Perhaps she wants to know what it's like to be the penetrator and would find the idea of playing with a strap-on to be fun, empowering, liberating.

Any of those scenarios is possible, but a realistic look at the chances tells me that I should not set my expectations around them. I do care for her desperately and want to represent myself as honestly as I can without losing her. Decades of allowing my mind to roam freely and develop layers of fetishes is working against me now. I have to find the right balance to consider myself whole while not wrecking what she and I have built. It's a hell of a tightrope, and I hate that I am so bad at these things.

The real question mark is that I don't even know if any of these fetishes CAN be undone. I'm sitting here right now with my chastity cage on, enjoying it thoroughly. I disposed of the bulk of my femme wardrobe out of fear that it would be found and raise questions I was not prepared to answer; but I'm craving the feeling of a pair of heels, thigh hose, miniskirt, bra, and top, long nails, and earrings.

There is no easy way to introduce those things or to make her understand the layers behind them: vulnerability, supression of ego, focus on pleasing, being controlled, used, enjoyed. How strong is the door on that closet? How much can it hold? Can I let a little bit out at a time without having all those "greasy car parts and dirty jock straps" come tumbling out? Can I be honest with her about who I am, claim that I'm being open and transparent, but please pay no attention to the pounding noises and flying paint chips from that door over there. Maybe the door will hold, and maybe it won't make any difference. Maybe that's the choice I'm left with: partial truth with her or wide-open fetish holiday alone. Neither is ideal.

Which will I chose?

What is for forever?

Good luck to everyone in finding happiness. I'm continuing to try.

Quietlisten