Good morning lovelies,
Today, I wanted to talk to you about something very personal to me: The difference between abuse and BDSM.
Yesterday, I received a phonecall from my neighbour regarding his ongoing battle for legal custody of his daughter. My neighbour and I get on fairly well, but I aware of him and his abusive nature and so as such, our relationship is always very vague. I only tell him what he needs to know, and no more.
Wolfie and I live in a converted house, in “flats” as we call them here in the UK. Our neighbour, a young man in his late twenties, has disabilities that make him stand out. Because of that, he often feels feels inferior and victimized.
When we first moved in, our neighbour was very quiet and kept himself to himself. As we began to understand each other, he began to make up grandiose stories about a life filled with celebrities. Miley Cyrus, Stephen Hawking, Mark Zuckerberg.. you name it, this man, living in the middle of a run down sub-urban estate in Bristol, had been involved personally with them all.
About three months into our tenancy, we overheard him and his girlfriend having a blistering argument. I heard him shout “get out” on two occasions, but I also told her tell the police that he wouldn’t let her leave. When he knocked on my door, he painted himself out to be a victim. He showed me a bite mark on his cheek and said she kicked him in the groin. He also admitted to putting a hand around her throat “in self defence”. Horrified and naive, I agreed to appear in court to give evidence supporting what I thought to be an innocent man, but then he changed.
With court and gratitudes out of the way, he turned his attention to the shared garden. The garden he told me to “do whatever you want with” was now an object of his primary concern, and he turned quite nasty over it. On one occasion, he called me and sneered down the phone, telling me that I was invading on his legal property and he would be taking me to court if I refused to move my things. In the end, I involved our landlord who sorted it, but little was said about the way he behaved towards me, except that I wasn’t someone who liked confrontation and so he should speak to me nicely. Of course he agreed to our landlord’s face, of course he did, but he changed as soon as he left.
In the weeks after that, girlfriend number two appeared. She wasn’t on the scene for very long, a larger girl, loud, and not particularly bright. To be fair, she was almost as abusive to him as he was to her. Except, while she lashed out because she believed she was entitled to things that she wasn’t getting, he lashed out out of fear, out of a loss of control.
That ended with her storming past my front door screaming that she was “fucking done” and loudly calling him pathetic. It was so embarrassing for me that I removed my safety gate from my front door and closed it, preferring to suffer the intense summer heat without much ventilation instead.
When girlfriend number three turned up, I initially thought she was a man. My first thoughts were that she was one of his friends, so when she came out with a female voice, I was completely taken off guard. I later learned, or at least so he told me, that she was once a lesbian, and she was now blown away by his sexual performance and was very much suddenly heterosexual. I’m not so sure that anyone with even an inkling of homosexual desires can turn it on or off on a whim, but to avoid an unneccesary argument, I’ll go with it.
Another three months later and they’re out in the garden waving around a used pregnancy test. I watched as my neighbour marched up to Wolfie, thrust the positive result in his face, and Wolfie congratulated him and shook his hand. At the start of 2019, girlfriend number three gave birth to a baby girl.
For her part, girlfriend number three and I actually bonded quite well, and I hoped he would keep her. She was quiet but strong. Anxious and cheeky, tomboyish and caring. In many ways, she was a lot like me, and I warmed to her because of it.
Needless to say, that relationship didn’t last and just after my 31st birthday, they broke up. Far from being the wonderful girl that he wanted to marry, she is now an alleged psychotic child-beater, at least, according to his words. I firmly believe, however, that the truth is a very different story.
This is a man with an only-just-spent criminal record for harassment of another ex-gilfriend. This is a man with a temper who thinks nothing of screaming at his girlfriends for hours on end. This is a man with absolutely no respect for women, and what’s more, his neighbours know it, too.
One day, I needed to knock on my other neighbour’s door. I’d been living here about two years and my neighbour wanted to know how I was finding life on this quiet residential street. For it’s part, I told him I absolutely loved it, I just haven’t sussed out my neighbour. He told me that he was a bit of a strange one, and that he once heard him and his then girlfriend arguing in the street over a packet of biscuits.
Yes ladies and gentlemen, you heard me, biscuits. Cookies. Call them whatever you like.
Wolfie and I have never, ever had an argument so loud that our neighbours have heard us, much less have any of our arguments spilled out onto the street. That’s not to say that we don’t have arguments, but we both know that when someone is feeling slighted about something, we both need to slam on the brakes, take a few moments to breath and then sit down and talk it out, not raise our voices still higher.
As a practitioner of BDSM. something that I am all too aware of is that our society, sadly, still has an inaccurate perception of what we do. To and for many people, our activities are simply a mask for abuse. I can remember the the time I had a few bruises from some really rough sex, I had finger marks on my arms, and bite marks on my breasts. While those days were fun, those marks also caused alarm.
I tried to play them off as sex bruises, but my parents were livid. I can distinctly recall my my mother threatening to slap Wolfie if he left a hickey on me again., and a lecture on how hickies can cause blood clots. Having seen for himself now just how easily I can do do bruise, Wolfie himself is a lot, lot more careful about what he does and how much pressure he uses. I like marks, but bruises are a bit too far for me.
Wolfie has never made me feel unsafe. He’s there to make sure I get through the hard times as much as he is there to keep me in line and he fills my water bottle more often than he spanks my ass (you know, because I’m a good girl 😉 ). A true Dominant is not an abuser. In both roles, our primary emotions are pride, concern, love and care. An abuser’s only concern is themselves.
I do have a bit of a bond with my neighbour, but it’s an at-arms-length one. He has helped me with some DIY and I have helped him clean, and we have also sat in the garden and drank tea together, but I am also aware of how cruel he can be. I find myself tiptoeing around him, not agreeing that he’s abusive when it’s exactly what I wanted to say. We also talk all about his needs and issues, and not nearly so much about mine. That’s all the signs and makings of a very toxic friendship right there, and so I try to limit contact unless it’s essential. Part of my decision to buy a Ring doorbell was so that I could see that, if the doorbell rang, was it important or was it just the neighbour?
Just the neighbour. Not exactly someone I was enthralled to talk to. Can you tell?
I do think he has the potential and I do think that, with intensive therapy and anger management, he could make someone a great partner for someone. He does have a heart and he does care, and he has consoled me when I have cried, but he also does have a tendency to lash out when he feels threatened and that’s not on. Understandable, yes, but also still not at all appropriate. With support, I’d like to believe he has potential. If he can open up to me, then he can open up to the right therapist, and that alone will be a great step towards a brighter future.
Remember lovelies, if you have any doubts or concerns, speak up or get out and get safe!
Stay well, folks!
Hugs & kinky cuddles,