I recently taught a class about refinding your YOU. The YOU that gets forgotten, left behind, broken up into a million little pieces and traded in relationships.
The YOU that tells you how you see the world, what is good and right (or wrong) for you, where you take up space, when you speak, why you do what you do, and who you are.
Your YOU is made up of your ethics, your experiences, your needs, and becomes the foundation of your boundaries.
Finding and holding onto the core of ourselves is difficult for many because we have an innate desire to be closer to others. To connect.
It makes our edges permeable. Makes our boundaries bleed into one another like watercolors, rather than clearly overlap in our sweet spots.
And while I’ve talked ad nauseam about how important boundaries are to US, let me also say that our boundaries are important to others.
I will never engage romantically with anyone who I thought had poor boundaries.
How could I know if they really wanted whatever we did together? How could I trust their negotiation? Could I be sure they would safe word when needed, or even just say “No,” when saying “Yes” might mean resentment?
In kink, boundaries are critical to playing safe with the not-so-vanilla things we do.
Something as simple as knowing you will speak up when you feel a pain that does not belong when I slide into you is key to me.
I want to know who YOU is. Where I can count on you, and where I Can be sure that I will have to look elsewhere. I want to know that when you say “Yes,” that you 100 percent mean it, and that you will say otherwise if there is any doubt.
Partially because I love the people who can say no. To me, this gives them more room to say yes.
And partially because anyone who has good strong boundaries is probably someone who will appreciate mine and what they add to any interactions we have.
I’ve written about this in my book: Understand Me—Now! (And that’s an order.): Communication for relationships, including ethical non-monogamy, kink, and BDSM.
Read a 50-page sample here:
