The Control Conundrum
When I think back to my journey in kink, I like to consider my approach. Generally, some people see it…
When I think back to my journey in kink, I like to consider my approach. Generally, some people see it as an extension of their vanilla lives, while others compartmentalize their BDSM interests as something entirely separate.
Personally, I’ve always felt like my kinky life and my personal life were somewhat interconnected. I’m the type of person who has always been very “in-control”—the kind who gets labeled as “intense.” My therapist attributes this to growing up in a “somewhat unstable environment,” leading me to “adapt accordingly.” My executive coach, on the other hand, insists that it’s simply part of who I am, and that I should embrace it. Regardless of the reasoning, I’ve become someone who thrives on control and precision.
But I’m far from perfect. Anxiety has always been a constant companion, lurking beneath my composed exterior. Overthinking is my Achilles’ heel—beneficial in the workplace at times, but also a double-edged sword. I remember the first time I received this sort of notification:
I was preparing a pitchbook for a live deal, knowing that I had to present during a high-stakes meeting. The fear of being grilled by the client had my heart racing, and as I rattled off the numbers, I could feel my pulse thudding in my ears. Glancing down at my watch, I saw the notification, and for a moment, my mind froze. But I managed to pull it together, turning what could have been a disastrous stumble into a swan act. That moment, however, remains seared into my memory.
As time went on, I became more comfortable in high-pressure corporate environments. I moved to a different company, into a role where I held more responsibility and autonomy, essentially having complete control over my division. The more I take on, the more I realize how much I crave that sense of control—yet, paradoxically, I recognize the toll it takes on me.
It’s this very need for control that drew me to submission in the world of kink. There’s something profoundly liberating about relinquishing control in a scene—about handing over the reins and trusting someone else completely. In those moments, I’m able to silence the overthinking, the anxiety, the need to be perfect. Instead, I can simply be—vulnerable, exposed, and completely present in the moment.
Every time I step into that role of the submissive, I’m reminded that true strength isn’t about holding on tightly—it’s about knowing when to let go.
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