How does an introverted, asexual, aromantic submissive go dating ? I guess that over the years the answer works out to be rarely and with trepidation.
I’m not sure that it’s safe to say that I was insecure when young, rather that I knew what I didn’t want. And what I didn’t want was exactly what everyone else seemed to be actively pursuing.
It wasn’t until I realised that BDSM was my path that I truly found myself faced with the horrors of dating. Even then, I’d already spent many years online. There’s a point you reach in the online world where you know it’s no longer enough, that it’s no longer real to you.
Yes, many people do find satisfaction and fulfillment in keeping it all virtual. For me, I had to know how far it could go. Questioning if I would still want it if the reality was too much.
The pool of potential dates is quite small when you know that very early in the conversation you’ll have to talk about crossdressing, D/s and pain.
The first date of this era was with someone I’d grown close to online and it’s one I’ve written about. The introvert doesn’t suddenly turn into an extrovert overnight and my additional descent into silent sub-space turned it all a bit awkward. Things remained good online for some time, but she never wanted to repeat the experience, despite what we both learned talking it through.
Which meant I eventually had to take the plunge of engaging with and meeting almost complete strangers. Dating in the kink world tends to have the priorities back to front. You’ve found each other based on an overlapping list of kink activities you like (or think you would like). That maybe fine for a one off encounter, but it’s no indicator that there’s any other overlapping interests or compatibility for a longer relationship.
This was most starkly brought home to me by one date. The initial contact online had established some of that overlap, the phone calls had her sound lovely and bubbly. The lunch date was horrendous. She was over an hour late to start with. There was a certain laxness about personal care and her range of conversation was extremely limited. I enjoy discussions with a sadist, but I really do want to hear more than how much pain she wants to inflict. And it didn’t help that her idea of a good restaurant at which to meet was a grubby Harvester (call me a snob).
This was the most extreme dating failure of that time.
What this process did do for me was consolidate something I’d half understood before. The fact that for D/s to work for me it had to be part of, and secondary to the relationship. And that wasn’t a relationship in sexual or romantic terms. It had to be a friendship or deeper companionship. Only then would D/s find meaning for me within that framework.
The relationship with my former mistress was almost a replay of that first online relationship. The length of time online was much shorter before that first meeting and any mutual awkwardness was overcome. I wouldn’t call that first meeting a date. But as we became a relationship based on so much more than kink we had some glorious days and evenings out as dates.
A day at a stately home and gardens. A night at the theatre or opera. The joy in relishing company over a long evening with good food.
Of course, by then she had the key to my chastity device on her necklace. All those problems of going on a date for the purpose of seduction and sex totally irrelevant. Looking back, there was seduction going on. Seduction of the mind.
Although she no longer wears that key around her neck (it’s on her bedside table) and she’ll never wield a cane again, we still have odd times out together that are in the same mold as those dates – so I suppose they still are dates. That there’s no longer D/s between us is no barrier, we’ve moved beyond that. The friendship is deep, not frequent enough to be called companionship and I suppose that to the degree either of us is capable of it, it holds an aspect of romance.
Now I look back, all successful dates have been after a relationship has been established. No relationship has actually started from a date. I’m not sure that’s how it’s supposed to be but given the place I’m at now, I’m happy enough with what’s worked.