Training Wheels

I never really learned to ride a bike as a child. I mean, I tried to learn, but when I was about six or so I had a fairly bad accident and never quite got back on. Suited me, I was a lazy, uncoordinated kid anyway, and I seem to remember never really being comfortable on the bike anyway.

This is a very strange beginning to a blog about kink, but do bear with me, I'm pretty sure I've got a point.

Recently, Rose has been taking the dog for a ride with her on her bike. She rides, he trots along, I...stayed home. I decided that, bugger it, I'm going to come along, even if I can't ride a bike. So I bought an adult tricycle. After the massive headache of assembling the thing, and a period of adjustment to it, I've got to say it's pretty fun. My terrible balance isn't a handicap anymore, and I can get out with rose and our poodle and enjoy some good exercise and bond with both of them. It's nice, I enjoy it, we feel like a right little family.

Ok, now we're getting to the point. I promise.

The point I'm trying to make is that if there's something you want to do, find a way to do it, even if that method is unconventional. Even if it might make you feel slightly ridiculous at first. Because trust me, I look ridiculous on that trike. A large, overweight man with too much hair being pulled along on a giant tricycle by a tiny little miniature poodle? If I saw that on TV, I'd sure laugh.

But here's the thing. That's not important. Appearances aren't anything to worry about, and living up to other people's standards is a surefire path to misery.

Rose and I have been doing really well, lately. Our dynamic has been very good, as has our relationship. I think it's because I've found and embraced that third wheel. Found my balance. Started to come into myself as a Dom, and realise that the only standard, the only image I need to live up to is my own.

Attempting to be MasterLordDomlySir the Magnificent and Infallible, attempting to live up to an image that was unattainable, that's not who I am. It might work for some people, but it's not me- apologies to the old schoolers rolling their eyes at the young turk- and it doesn't have to be.

Because for the longest time, I wanted to be. I projected that on to rose. I would beat myself up for not living up to what she wanted, when really what she wanted was for me to be happy in myself. Which of course gave me great excuses not to try, or to try and then beat myself up when I failed.

Now I'm just being me, and it turns out that when I'm just allowing myself to do what comes naturally instead of trying to live up to an ideal, it just...works.

I'm not MasterLordDomlySir the Magnificent and Infallible.

I'm just Master me. Not magnificent. Not infallible. Just happy and fulfilled.

That, as it turns out, is a lot better.