[F4Thought] Coward of the County

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There are big lies and small lies.  There are the lies we tell ourselves, the lies we tell to others and the lies others present to us.

Kenny Rogers: Coward of the County

It starts in childhood with the likes of the Tooth Fairy or “Santa knows if you’ve been good or bad”.  There’s the funny ones such as April Fools – I can think of the time as a 7 year old falling for quite a good one … “The dog license needs to be renewed and we need a paw print of the dog to take to the Post Office”.  Yeah, naive little bugger, wasn’t I ?

[That also dates me – needing a dog license.  My mother resented that dog license for years, she was a cat person.]

As I grew up, I learned to lie a lot better.  At the job interview – “Sure, I’ve got experience of doing that.”  Or, “Yes, I really enjoy working here.” during the yearly review.

We make our lives easier and simpler with those little lies, to avoid confrontation and embarrassment.

Yet it’s in personal relationships that lies really count because they are liable to hurt.  For me, those have often been deflection type of lies.  All those years telling my parents that I’d just not found anyone to settle down with when I knew that would never happen.  That there never would be grand children or an occasion for my mother to indulge herself with a new hat.  Never until this year would I have considered opening up the truth that I am transgendered.  Even then, I’ve still not broached the area of asexuality – for all those years my father assumed, and joked, that I must be randy git with a trail of bastard children dotted around the country.  The cumulative effect of those lies almost destroyed me this year.

We tell lies to avoid telling others who we really are and causing them disappointment and ourselves, embarrassment.

There are a lot of lies I’ve told to myself over the years.  That I had no value or worth in personal relationships.  That kink, fetish, cross dressing, D/s where just interesting fads and not really part of my core.

Then there’s the point where I’ll tell you I’m not a masochist and hate pain.  Is that a lie to me ?  To you ?  That depends on the circumstances.  In daily life it is no lie.  Then, my domme knows how to make a complete liar of me when she takes me to the place where I feel I could and want to endure her pain for ever.

The biggest lie of them all is about love.  When the assumed most very basic element of a relationship is defined around sexual desire and attraction and the mainstream of society discuss and define love as based on that desire and attraction, I found the subject unfathomable.  I was incapable of giving love in those terms and assumed that I didn’t have the capacity.  On the flip side, I believed that in not being able to reciprocate in those terms that I was not a worthy object of love.

Discovery of the body of work on asexuality showed me how the world and society had been lying to me all my life.


My former mistress taught me that I could not lie to her.  Not even the lies of omission.  Mentally and emotionally being stripped naked in front of someone is hard.  Every one of your perceived flaws is open for inspection and as hard as it is, the lies can no longer be told, to her, to me, to the world.

Well, maybe not quite the world.  And this is the baton picked up by my current domme.  I’m not sure I’ve ever lied to her – she might now come and tell me when I have 🤣  She ensures I can’t lie to myself and increasingly I can’t lie to the world.  At times the world sees melody as she really is.  The petrifying terror that leads to lies and self denial is not what it was.  It’s not gone and I increasingly regret the fraudulent facade required to live day to day and earn a crust.

For me, the life time of lies have been about acknowledging who I am and then the denial in being who I should be.

I don’t tell nearly as many lies as I used to, I wish I didn’t need to tell any at all.  Or is it that really I wish I had the self-confidence, the self-image to brazen it out and damn the consequences.  I still need a few years pension contributions, does that make me a coward ?

I may not have to fight to be a man, but the fight to be something else is much much harder and all too easy to resort to the comfort of lies if you let it.


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