Currently exploring sexuality, mental health, love and life – and taking you along for the ride

I wasn’t being as discerning as I should be. If this was a date rather than a Dom application, I wouldn’t have even gone on a second date with the tipsy guy.

The first date was lovely

I was also missing something else. It wasn’t until the ex knocked on my door again sort of sober that I figured it out. The minute he hugged me, all the feelings came rushing back. I had an epiphany.

I didn’t actually wanted a Dom at all. I wanted an intimate relationship with someone I was attracted to and who I could trust enough to let them absolutely dominate me in bed. Up until now, I hadn’t understood the difference.

And because I have this kind of addictive personality, I’d explored it very “alcoholically” – I hadn’t taken the time, thought it through or been discerning, I’d simply dived in head first with whoever was in my path.

My lack of boundaries had also meant I’d let things go further than I would have liked on a few occasions. I wasn’t ashamed, but it was a warning sign I was heading into unhealthy, potentially destructive territory.

I can’t say that the things I explored weren’t fun. They were. To a certain extent. But they didn’t open me up, help me find my voice and give me the sense of sexual freedom I wanted. They didn’t take me there.

I realised that as much as I love sex, to me, it’s meaningless without an emotional and intimate connection to my partner.

So now it was time to pull back and re-think hookupdate.net/adult-hub-review my approach. I’d found out what I didn’t want. Now I needed to figure out how to find and get what I did. And how to exercise the patience to wait instead of just going for whoever was in front of me.

But somehow, I’d believed it was okay for me to hand over my body simply because they bought me dinner and it was just sex?

Finding the right person to explore my kinky fantasies and my submissive side was going to be harder than I thought…

Jo Buckman is and English born, mostly Australian writer, currently living in LA. When she’s able to be physically ping, scuba diving, traveling the world or reading a book. Sober and single. You can read more of her work here.

I’d broken up with my boyfriend. Not because I didn’t love him, but because I’m sober and I couldn’t share him with drugs anymore. It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to.

I blocked him on messenger, Facebook, sent his emails to spam, etc. And I waited – and hoped – for him to wake up and come knocking on my door.

That shook me. I had thought he might have been pining for me. Hitting his bottom. Instead, he was out having the time of his life.

I instantly signed up on Tinder, Bumble and OK Cupid (I don’t do anything by halves). By the following night, I had a date.

The following week, I had two more (a second date and a new guy). But we ran out of things to say on the second.

It wasn’t until my therapist asked me, “What is it about him that you really missed?”, that it hit me: I missed the sex.

The way our bodies responding to each other, how we communicated. It was passionate, sensual, and f**king hot. We’d done things I’d never tried – new positions, anal play, toys. I was opening up with him in ways I never had before.

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