December 2014 was the only time my relationship with Austin resembled anything real, anything healthy.

I spent the next two years of my life hoping to get that feeling back. I was like an addict chasing that first high. I think I knew, deep down inside myself that it was gone forever. Still, I chased. I never caught up.I didn’t have an exact plan of how this was going to turn out, but I wanted to do everything in my power to be open and honest with him. We had a conversation the first week of December. I admitted to him that I felt very submissive around him and wanted to explore that feeling. I had vast knowledge on BDSM relationships from my passion of sexuality. I explained it to him and we went from there.On December 9, (yes, I still remember the actual day) he gave me his rules. The things I would do if asked, without hesitation. The things I wouldn’t do with other intimate partners. They were pretty basic, including that both of us would always use protection with other partners and get tested regularly. I agreed to them. I was eager to explore what I meant to be someone’s submissive. I do want to break that fourth wall for a moment and the sex nerd in me will explain something to you. A dominant and submissive relationship with the right person is a beautiful thing. However, it is often a triggering concept. Within pop culture, the fictional role of a dominatrix, who beats men for money, and books and movies like, Fifty Shades, can blur the line of reality and fiction. A d/s relationship truly has much more depth than what can be seen on the surface. There are ways to have a healthy and successful BDSM relationship. It involves mutual respect and love for one another. The dominant relies on their submissive as much, if not more, than the submissive relies on their dominant. It can be done in a romantic relationship or outside of a romantic relationship. A true BDSM relationship follows one or both of the following concepts:RACK- Risk Aware Consensual KinkSSC- Safe, Sane, ConsensualConsensual being THE MOST IMPORTANT aspect. Not only does consent mean the willingness of all involved, but it means a true understanding of all aspects of play. It means that the headspace of each person is sound (‘sane’) and the dominant does not utilize fear or power to gain consent. A “yes” does not mean consent. A “yes” from someone who does not truly understand what they are agreeing to is not true consent. For example, someone can say they are willing to do something, let’s say for example spanking. The average person knows what it means to spank someone but they may or may not understand different types of tools that can be used to spank someone. They may or may not know what kinds of marks can be left behind. Have all involved parties negotiated what is going to happen from step one to the conclusion of the “spanking play”? Do they have safe words in place for when it becomes too much or an end all word that stops everything? Is there an after care plan in place? Does the submissive like alone time after a vigorous spanking or do they want to talk and be with their partner? All of this needs to be discussed before either person can say they have the true consent of the other person.

Ok, let’s get back to my story.

With Austin, it never really worked. He was never willing to really use his power over me. I suppose I could thank him for that. At the time, I was willing to push myself very far for him, I was willing to leave my comfort zone. He never acted like a Dominant. Now that I think of it, maybe that was his own twisted way of controlling me. By not controlling me, he never gave me what I wanted. He still had the upper hand. I was always left wanting more from him.  That meant I would never walk away from him. I was always chasing. So back to December, toward the middle of the month, we began planning our holiday plans. He was going to come to the city to be with his son for a week through New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. I was going to be taking leave at the same time. I would be visiting my family at the same time a few hours away. Our plans aligned. I made arrangements to pick him up at the airport, pick up his son, and then go to his friend’s house for the day. There was no exact plan in place. In my head, I was going to leave Austin and his son in the city and go back to my parents’ house.The way it all worked out was perfect. We ended up being invited to stay overnight at his friend’s house and crashed for a few days. Then a separate friend invited us to stay. We even drove out to my parents’ place and stayed there one night. We spent the whole week together. This is when everything seemed to line up perfectly. His friends liked me and had made it known they didn’t like the other girls he had brought around. His son liked me too. We really felt like a normal couple that week. We had alone time. We slept together every night. All the normal couple things were happening. We held hands. Actually, we were always touching each other in the annoying “new couple” way. The thing I will always remember was the first time I caught him looking at me just smiling. The next night, we were standing on the porch of his friend’s house. On our way back, after going out to dinner alone, he had his arms around me and told me he loved me and kissed my forehead. I felt so amazing in that moment. It gave me that melting feeling, like the whole world had disappeared, and he and I were all that was left. I felt like I could do anything. As long as I had him and I had his love, I could do anything. That was the moment I always went back to. I kept chasing that feeling, that high of feeling loved. Always chasing.

Spoiler alert: I never once felt that way again. It was a one-time moment. He never again made me feel loved by him. I think there was one time, one Skype call that ended with an “I love you” from him. He might have said it in conversation but never in the same context. Never unprovoked. Never without my initiation.

Later that week, we went out to a New Year’s Eve party together, watched a band play, got a little drunk and had a great time. We looked so great together that night. I remember the compliments. I remember the one guy who looked me up and down and walked up to him and did that “you have my approval” nod and fist bump. It’s such a silly thing to remember, but I do.Leaving him at the airport was incredibly hard. I was a mess. I didn’t know when I was going to see him again. I could barely function on the drive back to my parents’ place. He always had such an effect on me, and I had never had that before. Time passed as it does. It was May that I planned the next trip to see him. He never brought up the idea of him visiting me. Actually, this was the trip that I planned because the girl he was going to take to a symphony had “left” him. So, I made plans to be his date to the symphony. It was another great week but it didn’t feel like it did in December; it didn’t feel like it did my first trip to see him even though I couldn’t pinpoint why. Nonetheless, I had great time when I was with him. I had the days to myself when he was at work, I had his truck, and a new city to explore. Looking back, there’s yet another sign of how disproportional my adoration for him was. He never took time off when I visited. He always assured me he was going to take a few days off but when it came time, he never did. More time passed and that brings us closer to this summer. This was the end of my active duty contract. I knew a few months after I moved to my new unit this job was not for me. The total breaking point was that summer after my visit to Miami a few months before.I’m not sure of the exact time frame, but I had been seeing a mental health counselor at this time.  She wasn’t a doctor, but she was selected for me through my employee benefits. She was great. I spent most of my time talking about my job stress and my stress over my “long distance relationship” with Austin. She was understanding of our polyamorous /open relationship situation, but at the same time, she never could understand why the other girls in his life never knew about me. That was the hardest part to come to terms with myself. Why did he always keep our relationship a secret? Wasn’t it his responsibility to tell these other women that he was also sleeping with me? He could never give them true monogamy. Now, thinking back it’s pretty disgusting. At the time, I just made excuses for him. He was being honest with me (or wasn’t he? I will never know) but he was never honest with them. Isn’t one lie just as bad as two? If he treats other women this way, why did I think he would treat me differently? I did, though. I did believe I was different. I truly and wholeheartedly believed I was different. I was the answer. I would be the one he stayed with. I was the one who understood him. I “got him” and he “got me.”

WRONG.

This goes back to the previous summer. I had an emotional breakdown at work. I wasn’t my happy, positive self. I hadn’t been for a while, but I couldn’t see it. I didn’t get out bed some weekends; I got up only for food and to use the bathroom. That was all. I barely got to work on time. I was drinking more. I was making more mistakes at work. All the signs were there.  One day, during a weekly department meeting, the head of my department said something to me after I made a negative comment. It was something as simple as “Well, not with that attitude” and I LOST it. I couldn’t hold back my tears or my emotions any longer. I ran out of the meeting room, passed the front reception desk, ran down the long hallway to our office, and to the bathroom. I was hyperventilating. I couldn’t catch my breath. Every emotion was rolling out of me in that moment. Everything had finally caught up. My supervisor followed me and made sure everything was ok and let me take a moment to collect myself before returning. The next day, I went to medical and got the mental health center’s number and made an appointment. I went to me appointment with a psychologist. She referred me to a psychiatrist, and the three of us worked out a plan to help me get back on my feet. I was diagnosed with adjustment disorder. Adjustment disorder. I couldn’t adjust. I was depressed and anxious at the same time. I was put on an antidepressants and went to weekly mental health appointments. Again, I talked about Austin. I talked about my decision to separate from the service. I talked about my mom (don’t parents always get brought up in these things?!?!). I talked about my overwhelming need to please everyone in my life. Eventually, I made the final decision to separate from the service. After that, I made the decision to move to Miami. Move in with Austin. I told myself, if I moved down there, it would all work out. We would figure out our relationship together. I would go to school. He had always assured me I would always have a place to stay, a place to live if he was in my life. So I decided to take him up on that offer. I was going to have his support and his love on my side (yea… I really believed that). I began chasing that new dream. I was going to move to Miami, a new place I had never lived. I was going to be a college student again. I would finally have Austin in my daily life and he and I would figure out our relationship dynamic together. It was going to be exactly what I needed. Or so I thought.