Freedom of Speech and Internet Bullying

  

I'm not going to bore you with a rehash of the outright asshattery taking place on the Goodreads site and the bullying, abuse, verbal assault and outright threats against authors that the site permits and, by its inaction, condones.  What I am going to do is pass on some very interesting information obtained through a day spent in research and conversation with some lawyer and law enforcement friends.

First, a disclaimer:  I am not and never have been a lawyer or member of the law enforcement community.  I have, however, been working in, with and through the internet since the old listserv days back in the 1980s. As a business owner whose company functions in today's electronic environment I have at least better than passing familiarity with certain aspects of a new field called Internet Law as it pertains to communications, intellectual property, privacy, employee relations and conduct, and yes, even how to deal with trolls. I must also have an understanding of what constitutes the difference between freedom of speech, libel and outright threats.

The Supreme Court of the United States, the ultimate legal authority in this country, has issued numerous opinions defining freedom of speech, freedom of expression, pornography, et cetera.  Here is a link for laypersons to get you started if you are so inclined:

http://www.freedomforum.org/packages/first/curricula/educationforfreedom/supportpages/L04-LimitsFreedomSpeech.htm

This is a site that explains in clear, easy to understand language just what the First Amendment of the US Constitution is all about and cites caselaw on the boundaries of the Amendment.  Click on the lessons in the column to the left for more detailed information.  Take particular note of the language under the heading Clear and Present Danger.

Here is an example of free speech as guaranteed by the US Constitution and clearly defined by caselaw:

"I read this book by XXX and, frankly, the writing sucks monkey balls, the editing was atrocious and the story was a joke.  Do NOT waste your money on this book."   

I can even say that I think XXX is a stupid twit who couldn't write a complete sentence to save her life. I can post this opinion on my Facebook wall, Twitter, MySpace, any and all review sites, even have flyers printed up and distributed, and no one can arrest me for violating any law – civil or criminal.  No one can sue me for it, either.  I have a constitutional right to speak my mind. Period. End of sentence. Discussion over. Don't like what I said?  Too bad. Guess what? You don't have to read it. You don't have to allow me to publish it on your site. But you cannot prevent me from stating my opinion and publishing it in any media that permits me to post. Not in the good ole US of A.

However...and internet trolls had better sit up and take notice of what I'm about to write. If they don't, well, they can't say they weren't warned. Oh, and one other thing...Ignorance of the law is no excuse. The following will get trolls into some very serious hot water because it is NOT defined as freedom of speech under law:

"I read this book by XXX and, frankly, the writing sucks monkey balls, the editing was atrocious and the story was a joke.  Do NOT waste your money on this book. Not only that, she is a whore, a disease-ridden fuck hole that should be raped and hung by her neck until dead." 

This is an example of verbal assault and an outright death threat, which are NOT, I repeat, N.O.T. guaranteed rights under US law – federal or state. If the subject of such a post chooses to do so, they can take the evidence to their local law enforcement agency and turn it over for investigation.  And it WILL be investigated.  Again, I refer the reader to the cases of suicide that have been directly attributed to internet bullying.  These are the ones that make the news, but guess what...there are a multitude more that do NOT make the news that have led to arrests.  The landmark case was United States v. Drew in the death of Megan Meier.  Search cyberbullying, cyberharassment, cyberstalking for some interesting reads on how US courts view the type of crap that is allowed to proliferate on the Goodreads site. 

In the USA, say whatever you like about an author's book, but libel and threaten the author, don't think for a single second that screen name will protect you.  Delete your vitriol?  Once something is posted on the internet, good luck trying to gather up all the pieces.  There are screenshots out there. 

And let's not forget the site servers and your ISP.  And there is also your computer's unique identifier – it's called a MAC address. Think you're a good enough hacker to completely hide yourself? Think again.

If a cyberbullied individual chooses to do so, they can bring down a world of hurt on internet trolls.  There are three trolls on Goodreads (these are the ones who come to mind immediately) who really need to rethink some of the crap they have posted and hope to whatever god they pray to that a savvy author doesn't decide to prosecute them for their threats. 

Another little interesting fact...Regardless of Terms of Service, the site owner(s) can be held accountable for what is posted on that site.  Hellllllooooo Goodreads admins – are you listening?  

Shame on you Jeff Bezos.  You know all of this better than anyone, and you and your minions have done nothing to stop it.

Wouldn't it be interesting if all of the authors who have been libeled and threatened on the Goodreads site got together and decided to press charges?

Just a little something internet trolls need to think about. Karma ain't the only bitch in town. US courts have got it all over her and then some.

Goodreads Troll Society

The following post is dedicated to every author, published or yet-to-be-published, ever bashed and bullied by the Goodreads Troll Society.

Sad news today.  An aspiring author has decided to halt publication of her book because the Goodreads Troll Society has struck again. (Yes, written here as a single entity comprised of multiple individuals.)  Even though this group has NOT read the book, they decided to get their most recent jollies by flaming a first-time author before the book was even published. While bashing an author prior to publication is not unusual for this group, bashing an author to the point where the author has halted publication of their book is unusual.  I've not heard of an author halting publication as a result of GTS bullying.

"Meh", you say. "Internet trolls are a fact of life. Get over it."

"That may be," I reply. "But since when do we, the reading public, have to tolerate it to the degree that we are now going to be deprived of what could be an excellent story – and all because of the insane rants of a select group of idiots?" (Note:  Idiot as used in this post is a bona fide classification of one with an IQ of 0-20.)

This is not the first time the GTS (Goodreads Troll Society) has struck. Unfortunately, until the Goodreads site changes its Terms of Service (See Section 2, paragraphs 1 and 2), the GTS will be allowed to continue spewing their written crap.

Free speech is an absolute guarantee in the United States.  While one cannot yell "fire" in a crowded theater, one can spew whatever sewage one wishes on the internet regardless of the consequences.  As proof, I refer you, dear reader, to multiple cases of suicide directly attributed to the actions of internet bullies.  The instance of an author pulling publication of a book may not be suicide in the literal sense, but the author has basically killed a story it probably took her the better part of a year to write. 

And make no mistake, a story is as much a part of an author as an arm, leg, hand...or heart.

So, if the Goodreads admins will not stop the GTS, what can be done about this group? 

It's simple, really. 

First, learn about internet trolls and what makes them tick.  Here are a couple of good articles to get you started:

http://kotaku.com/5893237/how-to-win-the-war-on-internet-trolls

http://www.theguardian.com/science/head-quarters/2013/aug/12/psychology-trolling-online-abuse

John Suler, PhD, has written an outstanding article dealing with the Online Disinhibition Effect, i.e. the psychology of the internet troll.

Second, consider using their crap against them and to your advantage.  Yes, I said use trolls to your advantage.  No, I promise I haven't lost my mind.

We all know that internet trolls have an IQ somewhere in the negative numbers, possibly even as high as 20, but not much higher than that.  This being the case, taking anything the GTS says seriously should be viewed as a joke.  It goes back to the adage, "Consider the source."  The GTS hasn't got enough brain power between all of them to light a match, never mind being able to comment intelligently on anything they review.  You know this.  I know this. But these idiots seem to think they can control public opinion.

And they can – IF WE allow THEM to do so.  Let me say that again:  The GTS can control our opinions and influence our actions IF WE ALLOW THEM TO DO SO.

Therefore, we don't allow their opinions to influence our opinions or actions in any way. In fact, IMO, the GTS condemnation should be looked upon as a badge of honor, a rite of passage.  Once an author has been  bashed by these trolls, one has paid another toll on the road to literary success.  Further, authors should consider using a GTS bashing to their advantage in marketing their books.  This accomplishes two things:

1.  It gives the troll the attention the poor, unfortunate idiot craves, and

2.  Gives the author some free publicity. 

Think about it.  Being told "no, you shouldn't" and "no, you can't" are two of the most perfect psychological hooks out there.  Tell someone "no" and what's the first thing they want to do, need to do? Yep, you guessed it.  Marketing is 9/10^ths psychology, right? Well then...

Look, GTS is probably comprised of, at best, hundreds of individuals, but I would hazard not more than 500 at most. (Please, gods and goddesses, tell me there aren't more idiots than that on the site.)  There are literally millions of readers out there. 

To the readers, I say this – ignore the GTS or, even better, take their written sewage as an inducement to buy the book.  After all, do you really want an idiot telling you what to read? And since members of GTS probably can't read, are they even qualified to post a review in the first place?

To the yet-to-be-published authors, I say this – Please don't deprive the reading public of a chance to read the result of your hard work based on the drivel of idiots.  Let us judge for ourselves the quality of your writing and the story you tell.

To the published authors who have been bashed by the GTS, I say this – Use their sewage against them. Wearing a GTS bashing as a badge of honor says to your readers that you are the bigger, better person.  As a  reader, I look at a GTS bashing as an incentive to buy the bashed book and support the bashed author.  Note the psychology of "no" above. 

If power is what GTS wants, then power it will get – but not the kind it was counting on. (insert evil laughter)

Support those authors bashed by the Goodreads Troll Society – if for no other reason than to piss off the Goodreads trolls. 

DEMANDING AN APOLOGY FROM WOMEN ACTION & THE MEDIA

(Please note:  In the text below are several words in ALL CAPS.  This is done for emphasis only. This is being posted on other sites using software that, in some cases, does not allow particular formatting.  I am not screaming or shouting.  I promise.)

In May, WAM (Women Action and the Media) began a campaign to stamp out sexist hate speech directed at women.  In and of itself, this was a noble undertaking and has brought that egregious practice into the light of day where it belongs.  What happened after that is also egregious in the extreme and this group did nothing to stop it and, in fact, encouraged it.  The result was nothing less than a stark repeat of one of history's darkest periods.

Thanks to WAM, the BDSM community became subject to what was nothing less than an outright pogrom, even a witch hunt.  In the ensuing days this group, while claiming to be an advocate of women and a bastion of free speech, violated the First Amendment of the United States Constitution (WAM is headquartered in the US) and knowingly - dare I even say this - with malice aforethought, actively worked to libel the community on Facebook, the largest social network in the world.

When called out by the BDSM community for WAM's incredibly ignorant, prejudicial, demonizing behavior, the group then backpedaled and, depending on your definition of the word, lied to cover their tracks.  To add insult to injury, they put out a statement saying that they had no problem with "consensual" BDSM and that it was Facebook's fault for taking down the pages.  This, even in the face of screenshots of the posts and resulting responses to posts that encouraged the witch hunt against the BDSM community.

One more time to get the point across:  If it is not consensual it is not, I repeat not, BDSM.   

WAM states clearly on their Facebook page with great pride that they forced the Washington Post to change their editorial policies after their interpretation of something written in an OPINION PIECE was deemed a sexist slur about Hillary Clinton.  Freedom of speech?  Freedom of thought?  Freedom of opinion?  Yes, even writers at the Post have the right to voice their opinion in writings clearly marked as such.  Here is the link to prove that this was, in fact, an OPINION PIECE dealing with a PUBLIC FIGURE. 

http://www.reclaimthemedia.org/media_justice/women_action_and_media_members0532

After appointing themselves the equivalent of the "thought police" AND using the threat of negative PR, WAM essentially forced Facebook to depublish over 100 (yes, that number is correct) pages started by the BDSM community to entertain and educate members of the community and those curious about the lifestyle.  NONE of these pages violated Facebook policy.  All were set for adults only (18 years old and over), some were even closed and/or secret to try and prevent minors from accessing the material.  This debacle mushroomed as a DIRECT RESULT of the actions or Women Action and the Media and WAM thinks they can lie, divert and misdirect their way out of it.

Not happening on my watch.

Women Action and the Media owes the BDSM community a thorough, humble apology along with a pledge to work to help restore those BDSM pages taken down as a result of their very misdirected campaign.

I call upon members of the BDSM community to stand up and demand this apology from Women Action and the Media and insist that it be given publicly, prominently and without ambiguity on their Facebook page, website, Twitter and any other social media they utilize. 

Please feel free to share this post. 

One last parting word:

First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out--
Because I was not a Socialist.
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out--
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out--
Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me--and there was no one left to speak for me.

Friedrich Gustav Emil Martin Niemöller (14 January 1892 – 6 March 1984)

Ask yourself, if we (all of us, kink or vanilla) do not stop this now, who will WAM and other organizations of like mind come after next?

Facebook's War Against BDSM

First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out--
Because I was not a Socialist.
 
Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out--
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.
 
Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out--
Because I was not a Jew.
 
Then they came for me--and there was no one left to speak for me.
 

Friedrich Gustav Emil Martin Niemöller (14 January 1892 – 6 March 1984)

A group called Women, Action & the Media have started a campaign to combat violence against women.  This is outstanding in theory.  In practice, however, it is nothing less than a colossal clusterfuck.  To date, more than 90, yes 90+, pages started by members of the BDSM community have been taken down.  This does not count those taken down and then restored. 

In the interest of full disclosure, I have no doubt that the campaign has brought down some purveyors of hate speech directed at women, and that is a very good thing.  However, that same campaign has run amok and must be reined in and limits set. It has gone from a well-intentioned movement to outright censorship and violation of the First Amendment of the US Constitution.

On June 18^th at approximately 4:30 p.m. an individual who shall remain nameless placed a post on WAM's Facebook wall (it is still there as of this writing) stating that women in abusive situations were there consensually because they were too scared to escape and seek help.  I could not believe that anyone educated enough to be able to type coherent words on a keyboard could be that stupid. 

WAM's little campaign and Facebook playing right into their hands is nothing new.  "Feminists" have been at war with the BDSM community for years.  While I haven't remained silent, I haven't stood up and stated unequivocally that I won't tolerate this BS any longer. 

To use Niemöller's poem as an analogy:  I am a woman, a collared submissive and very proud member of the BDSM community.  I'll be damned if I'm going to stand in the background any longer while others in the community are censored by the largest social network in the world in what amounts to discrimination and infringement on freedom of speech. 

I said to someone recently that this campaign reminded me of the temperance movement back in the late teens, early twenties last century.  I was wrong.  It's the late 1930s all over again.

They are coming for the BDSM community.  Are you going to sit silent until they come for you?

Subdrop

I've read about it.  I even understand it from a medical POV.  Makes perfect sense.  Using sensation overload, take the mind and body to the limits and the endocrine system secretes massive amounts of what is basically a narcotic cocktail with all kinds of enhancers.  It's a high like no other...even better than any of the "good drugs" a doctor can prescribe.  And I got a taste of it and LOVED it.  As with any narcotic/stimulant-induced high, there is a crash, sometimes within hours, but it can also happen days later.  The higher the high, the farther down the crash.  

 No, I did NOT love what happened a few days later.  In fact, I didn't even like it. 

Going away on a long-anticipated vacation trip and having a blast.  Everyone does it.  Coming home is great, but that post-vaca letdown is crappy, to say the least.  I fully expected to have the post-vaca letdown.  My work schedule was going to be quite a challenge, so I figured the letdown would be mild at best because activity, physical and mental, is a great deterrent to depression.  Oh, how wrong I was.

Just for grins and giggles,  let's add another little factor into the mix. 

I decided to detox from caffeine about the same time.  The caffeine detox had been taking place over more than six weeks.  I wanted to detox very, very slowly because one of the side effects of stopping caffeine too quickly is severe migraine in addition to the horrible draggy feeling that comes with detoxing from any sort of stimulant – and caffeine IS a stimulant. 

I've been a coffee snob since I was about 14 years old.  In college, coffee was my very best friend.  As a young parent of two very hyperactive boys, coffee was sometimes the only thing standing between me and complete exhaustion.  In med (PA) school, I practically mainlined the stuff.  Yeah, I was a coffee addict.  No, there is no such thing as Coffee Addicts Anonymous – but there should be. 

I digress...

We got home early Sunday evening and began getting ready for the upcoming week.  It was going to be "balls to the wall" all week long.  I was ready, willing and able. 

Monday and Tuesday were not too bad.  I didn't really have time to think about anything much more than work anyway.  Sir was back in the office and going hell for leather, too.  Wednesday was a little tricky.  I was feeling irritable, but nothing out of the ordinary when I'm under pressure.  By Thursday, I was no better and it was getting hard to concentrate.  By Friday night, it was getting hard to even make a decision as simple as figuring out what to have for dinner.  Nothing was going right.  Saturday, it felt like my mind was hitting a brick wall.  Motivation was damn near in the toilet. 

Sunday morning was a disaster. I had a total meltdown and couldn't quite figure out why.  My thinking process felt like scrambled eggs look on a plate.  Everything going in every possible direction except where I wanted and needed for it to go. The clincher was screaming at Sir because he hadn't taken out the trash.  Oh, yeah.  Not good.  I felt like I was a wreck. 

It wasn't like I wasn't familiar with the feelings I was having.  I have dealt with chronic depression for the last eight years.  The problem was that I couldn't figure out why I was having what could essentially be called a full-blown flare.  It felt like it had come out of nowhere. 

Remember those light bulb moments? 

Light.  Bulb.   

Oh, crap!  Subdrop.  Made worse by caffeine withdrawal and a high-pressure work week.  A constellation of factors that culminated in the Sunday from hell. 

At this point in the story, I need to extend a very heartfelt "thank you" to Tymber Dalton, Cherise Sinclair, and Kallypso Masters. Why?  Because I suggested Sir read their books and those stories helped him recognize what was happening before I figured it out.  Between their books and "Screw the Roses..." and "The Loving Dominant", Sir understood what was happening before I figured it out and he explained it to me.

I cried a bucket of tears because I was so grateful to learn I wasn't completely losing what little mind I was sure I had left.  Definitely a good thing.  That I would have to ride it out?  Definitely a bad thing. 

Blue Bell Ice Cream, Oreos, chicken soup, massage and, of course, lots of cuddling to the rescue. 

Just like millions of subs, I began to crawl out of the very dark place and make my way back to the land of the sane.  It took a couple of days, one very understanding Sir/DH, and three good books to take my mind off this whole crappy situation.  I tuned out the world and rode the roller coaster.  Once I understood what was happening, it was just a little easier to bear.  By Wednesday, I was feeling just about back to normal.  And I made it a point to read everything I could get my hands on about preventing and/or dealing with subdrop. 

What did I learn?

• It doesn't happen to everyone. 
• It's manifestation is unique to each person. There are some common elements, a feeling of sadness, overall lack of motivation, lethargy, irritability, even insecurity.
• Prevention/treatment is unique to each person. 
• It can be worse without good aftercare. 
• Even with good aftercare, there is no guarantee that it won't happen.
• There haven't been scientific studies on it, so there is really no objective information; it's all pretty much anecdotal.
• Each Dominant and submissive have to figure out what's best for them.  This takes time and patience. (Have I mentioned that patience is not one of my virtues?)
• Bottom line:  It can happen.  It does happen.  It sucks – major.

For me personally, it left me just a bit gun shy.  Subspace is a wonderful place, make no mistake.  However, I've been battling depression for a long time and have only just gotten a real handle on it in the last two to three years.  My experience with full-blown subdrop has left me very leery about visiting that wonderful place again and, certainly, not before Sir and I figure out the best way for us to either prevent it, minimize it or, even better, not have it happen at all.

As I write this, we're still learning and we've tried not to let have a negative impact (no pun intended) on our play.  Yes, I've been able to achieve an endorphin high (just not up into the stratosphere) and Sir definitely enjoys play time.  Aftercare is amazing.  Even so, we are proceeding slowly and cautiously. 

We have found that experimentation can be a lot of fun.  

Next:  Off the cuff...

Back to the Real World

My head was somewhere in the stratosphere and at the same time, I didn't want to leave.  Real Life was 24 hours away and it was time to go home.  Mixed feelings is an understatement.  Master, Mistress, ears, and dew felt like family.  As I write this, I miss them.  I knew I was leaving a small part of me behind – just like hundreds before me.  I was sure of one thing – I was leaving a totally different person from the one who arrived.  

It was a perfect day for the drive back home.  Crystal clear, not too hot.  We would be on the road for eight hours, but rather than fight the traffic in the I-95 corridor, we took I-81 through mountains, hills, and farm, wine and horse country. 

I was still riding the high and knew my reaction time wasn't the best, so Sir made it clear that He would be doing the driving. I was good with that; I'm not a big fan of driving anyway.  (A 200 mile/day round trip commute for years will do that to a person.)  And we talked like we hadn't talked in years – about everything. 

Were our lives going to change?  How would life change?  Did we want our lives to change?   What did this mean to Him?  To me?  What did we expect from each other? 

Looking at our lives in a new context now that the puzzle had been put together, we realized that we had already been living a D/s dynamic for the most part – more than we thought.  The problem was that I had been in the Dom position.  Well, not anymore - thank goodness. Now that we had some perspective, some of the little things began to make more sense. 

Sir complained on a regular basis about the fact that I was always putting myself second to Him and His needs and wants.  Now He began to understand that I wasn't putting myself second.  I was making sure my needs were being met by seeing to it that He was cared for in all ways.  This was what made me happy. 

But, Saya, it can't always be about me.

It isn't, Sir.  When we're together it IS about you in my mind and my heart.  When we're apart, I take care of me and do what I want to do.  But, you have to understand that when I'm caring for you, serving you, I do so because it's what I want, what I need.  You really are the center of my world.  

Sir was coming to understand certain facets of my behavior and why I did some of the things I did.  Yes, I was bratting out because a firmer hand was needed.  I didn't recognize it as that, but Master picked up on it almost immediately.  Once I understood, suddenly a lot of things in our marriage began to make more sense. Why I would get so angry about having to make so many decisions in our relationship.  Why there were times when I felt so cast adrift. 

Sir confessed some of His frustrations and it became very apparent that we had been working at cross purposes almost from the beginning.  No, the practical things probably wouldn't change.  I'd still pay the bills, keep the house, do most of the cooking. (Sir admits that I'm a wizard with money as well as being the better cook.)  Sir would take care of the yard and gardens.  (I have a black thumb and He can grow all types of plants anywhere.)

The relationship dynamic was going to change and in a major way.  We were basically going to start from the ground up and rebuild.  This was going to be about us and not about what we thought was demanded by society.  No more worrying about what other people thought.  This was our life and it began right here, right now.  

Did I understand that what I wanted and how I felt was still just as important as it had always been?  Yes, I did. Did I understand that from this point forward, Sir would be making the decisions and, once made, they were final?  Yes, I did.  Then, this was the first day of the rest of our lives and, this time, we would get it right.

As the trip went on, it dawned on me that I was feeling completely different from how I'd felt on the drive up to New York.  I was calmer.  My head was quieter.  I wasn't concerned about details.  I felt like I was wrapped in a warm, fuzzy blanket. 

There was something else that was different now, too. 

When we would be coming home from a vacation trip, I would have this feeling of pressure.  It was time to start thinking about real life and all of the concerns that went with it.  Getting out of the vacation headspace and back into real life headspace - I never liked that feeling.

This time, I felt like I was ready to get back to real life.  Oh, there was a lot of work ahead; rebuilding a relationship is not simple.  I finally figured out that what I was feeling was optimism.  Sir and I had a good life and a strong, loving marriage.  I remembered thinking it really couldn't get better.

At some point during that drive back home, I began to realize it was going to get better. 

Is this what Happily Ever After feels like?  Hmmmmm...not bad...I could get used to this.

*****************************

From me to you:

Thank you, dear reader, for your kind comments and compliments.   Thank you, too, for coming along on this journey with me.  It is far from over.  If you're so inclined, stick around.  I'll be writing about everything from my job to the pitfalls of aging and its impact on BDSM play. 

Think the topic of FSoG's impact on the lifestyle has been beat to death?  Yes, I'll be talking about the book's impact on the perception of BDSM in the vanilla community.  (Some of my vanilla friends have figured out what my "necklace" is not just a necklace.)

Think life has become a bed of roses, chains and chocolate?  So, what happens when a D/s couple has a battle of wills?  It's nothing like fiction, that's for sure.

Real life, bills, vet bills, arthritis, bills, working late, too much work and not enough play, bills. 

If you  think kids' toys are expensive, you ain't seen nothin' yet...

Books, books and more books.  I'm an outspoken, voracious reader.  I'm also a literary fangirl and you know what that means...

Then, there's the vanilla world's perception that submissives are subjugated.  With apologies to Jack Nicholson (and a grin to rival his Joker):  "Just wait'll they get a load o' me..."

Real men don't beat women?  Wanna bet?

So, hang out. We do have good cookies and chocolate, and ice cream (yes, real Blue Bell Ice Cream). 

If you have questions, please feel free to ask.  I'll certainly try to answer.

More to come...um...I mean...well, no pun intended...

Next:  Subdrop

More than a Marriage

3 a.m., Sunday morning...

I woke up feeling like my heart was going to pound its way out of my chest.  Oh, good-ee, an anxiety attack. Just breathe and relax...in...out...in...out...

I finally got myself calmed down without too much of a freak-out.  It didn't take me long to figure out why I was going nuts-o.  What in the bloody hell was I about to do?  Pledge myself and take a permanent collar.  Oh, crap on a cracker.  I actually felt my heart rate start to go up again.  What was the matter with me?  I didn't even feel this way before I got married.  Wait a minute...Well, duh...

Okay, Saya, think about this.

I've been married twice.  The first time was totally FUBAR and never should have happened.  If I had my life to live over again (of course, knowing then what I know now) I would have run the other way.  Think the most gorgeous Viking raider you can imagine.  Yeah, that was my ex-, and he wouldn't know emotion if it walked up and bit him. He made Spock look like an emotional train wreck.  And that was the least of the issues.  I married him young to get out of an incredibly abusive situation and was pretty much a nutcase myself.  Got divorced, got a lot of therapy and finally got my head straightened out.

The second time...No joke – love at first sight.  So help me.  We met on a Friday night, played chess on Saturday, walked through probably 10 miles of parkland around where we live on Sunday, started watching Monday Night Football and never saw the end of the game (:::wagging eyebrows:::)  and we've been together every day since.  We married about three months after we met.  We have been through some of the most horrendous things one can imagine that would have broken up 99 percent of most couples.  These tribulations have only made us grow closer together.  We have an incredible marriage.  No, it's not all roses and candy, but we are soul mates, heart mates, and the center of each other's existence.

Yet, even so, I've always held a small part of myself back.  Between male and female parental units and the first marriage catastrophe, I have trust issues – very HUGE trust issues.  I'm the original Fox Mulder.  My motto:  Trust No One.  All the therapy in the world has not been able to eradicate that.  Good grief, Charlie Brown, my job even deals with a form of paranoia.  My primary job (oh, please gods and goddesses, may I eventually retire and devote 100 percent of my work life to editing books) is in IT security.  See what I mean?

Now, marriage has an escape clause; it's called divorce.  Been there, done that.  It was not pretty, but I survived.  In fact, a marriage has a larger probability to fail than succeed.  Another little ditty:  People actually plan for marriage failure – can we say prenup?  And, if the marriage fails, it isn't like the parties are going to be tarred, feathered and run outta town. 

Permanent collaring?  That's a whole 'nother situation, Skippy.   

Pledging oneself in a permanently collared relationship entails complete, total, unreserved, absolute honesty and trust, in addition to completely open, cannot-hide-anything communication.  There are no secrets, no half-truths, no lies by omission, no prevarication.  This is straight-up, no bullshit time, campers.  And if one is uncollared after giving and receiving a permanent collar, there are some parts of the Community that WILL ostracize the parties or the party who request release.  A permanent collar is still taken seriously in the BDSM community. I freely admit that I am very old school about the permanent collar. 

Here I sat at 3 a.m. with my stomach in knots.  I was about to make one of the biggest commitments in my life – second only to giving birth.  I was going to pledge myself heart, mind, body and, yes, soul, to the man lying next to me for the rest of my natural life.  I was about to hand over a substantial part of myself, my complete trust and even a large part of my independence, to one individual. If this didn't work out, there would be very major repercussions to us both. Repercussions not just within the community;  I knew if Sir uncollared me, it could, and probably would, destroy me.

Oh, and let's not forget, this pledge (witnessed by two very highly respected members in the Community no less) would entail literally letting go of any reservations I ever had about a relationship with another person.  There were no do-overs and no take-backs here. 

So, this is what "cold feet" feels like...

Okay, self, let's break this down.   

Look at what the two of us have been through in the last twenty years.  Death.  Betrayal. Sickness. Experienced the true underbelly of humanity through no fault of our own.  Bankruptcy.  Being on the brink - twice.  Those things all line the bottom of the pit.  Then, there are grandchildren, an amazing child, professional success, coming back from the brink - twice, a solid marriage, the hard-won achievement of some measure of sanity and contentment and, most of all, the love we have for each other.  This is the light that keeps us warm and the foundation on which we live our lives.  If we've already weathered just about every major catastrophe life can throw at us and come out stronger than before, then we must have a pretty solid relationship. 

As independent as I have been for my entire life, was I really ready and willing to place my life totally into someone else's hands? 

Light. Bulb.  (Oh, wait, maybe that's the sun coming up.  Naaahhhhhh, Light Bulb of Awareness and the sun coming up...)

Our relationship, married or not, collared or not, is what WE make it.  My submission is MY choice.  Sir's acceptance is HIS choice.  It's not like we don't understand what these choices entail, both consequences and benefits. 

Maybe this was exactly what has been missing.  Maybe this is exactly what we both need to feel complete. 

It really is just before sunrise and the sky is lightening up quite a bit.  I decide to take a necessary little trip and, when I very carefully get back into bed, I see Sir looking at me.  (God, He is incredibly sexy when He first wakes up!)

Sir:  Having second thoughts?

Yeah, a few.

He snuggles me down against him and wraps me in His wonderful arms. 

Sir:  I've had a couple, too, but we'll work through all of this.

Yeah, I know.  But, there's no out-clause here.

Sir:  I know that and I know you know that.  We’ve been through more in the time we've been together than most married couples go through in fifty years.  If that hasn't broken us up, nothing will.  This'll work because we'll make it work. 

Maybe it was what he said.  Maybe it was how he said it.  Maybe it was all of that and the way he held me.  Whatever it was suddenly wasn't all that important.  What was important was that I knew without any doubt we were doing the right thing – for us.  And we would make it work – our way. If He was gonna jump into the deep end of the pool then, by god, I was gonna jump right along with Him.

On Sunday morning, April 21^st at 9:30, under a crystal blue sky and white puffy clouds, with the breeze through the trees and chirping birds supplying the background music, I came to Sir on my knees to offer Him my Submission and Service, heart, mind, body and soul to hold until my last breath.  In exchange, His gift to me would be undying love, guidance, protection, honesty and trust until His last breath. In twenty years, it was only the second time I had ever seen him shed a tear.   

On my wedding day, I felt love, yes, but there was a part of me that was unsure.  On my collaring day, I felt something much deeper than love, and I was sure of what I was doing, why, and that it was absolutely the right thing.  There was no going back and that was okay. In fact, it was more than okay. 

A journey ten years in the making was finally about to begin in earnest.

Top:  The play collar in the House Sayanov colors.

Bottom:  My permanent collar.  When in very vanilla situations, the medallion can be turned to rest under my shirt collar at the back of my neck so that only the chain is visible.