Decentering Others as a Dominant Woman
| She made it. She is a dominant woman now! She waded through the firehose, found her people, earned her place. She has a title now and a community. She knows how to carry herself, how to speak, how to dress, the rules, the etiquette, and most importantly, the aesthetic. She knows which kinks are acceptable to enjoy and which ones mark you as doing it wrong. She has mastered the nuances. She also knows how tired she is. Not from dominance itself. After everything, she still wants that. But she is worn thin from the maintenance of it all. The constant performance of being the “right” kind of dominant woman that only wants what a dominant woman is supposed to want. The inbox she manages. The other people who make her actions all about their expectation. The women who gatekeep each other the same way society policed them for wanting this in the first place. There’s a word for what she’s feeling but she doesn’t want to use it because a dominant woman isn’t supposed to experience burnout. She is supposed to be inexhaustible. In control. Above it all. But she is so tired of being above it all. The environment has become a leash for her and she is tired of being lead around. Her dominance gets cordoned off. Named. Othered. Aestheticized. Turned into a porn-soaked subculture with its own dress code. Its own hierarchy. It’s own gatekeepers. The cruelest part? We do this to ourselves. Not out of malice but out of necessity. When society refuses to make space for something, people build their own container. Femdom serves as that container. But containers have walls. The promise behind these walls is liberation. Finally a space where “feeemale” dominance is celebrated rather than punished. Where she doesn’t have to apologize for wanting control. Where she belongs. Nobody mentions that this belonging would come with conditions. That this liberation has a dress code. That she could be dominant on her own terms as long as her terms looked sufficiently like everyone else’s ideal image for her. Femdom promises women control and then hands them a script. A very specific script with very specific costumes and very specific approved desires. If her dominance does not look the part, if she wanted warmth instead of cool detachment, playfulness instead of severity, getting lost in sexual pleasure instead of rigid control, or receiving rather than giving…well, then she is doing it wrong. Authentic authority doesn’t work like that. It doesn’t come with a costume requirement or a community’s approval rating. The label was supposed to be liberating. For some women it becomes its own cage. So what does it mean to own dominance without performing it for anyone? It starts with a deceptively simple question. What do you actually want? Not what is sanctioned. Not what fits the aesthetic. Not what will earns you credibility or makes you popular. What do you, specifically, want from a dynamic? What does dominance mean to you personally? What makes you feel confident? What do you enjoy? This sounds obvious until a woman tries to answer honestly and realize how much of what she thinks she wants has been shaped by what she has been shown a dominant woman is supposed to want. Decentering others isn’t about becoming indifferent to people. It’s about making her the primary point of reference for what she wants for herself. Her desire is the starting point, not the thing she must negotiate around everyone else’s expectations to get to. She faces that expectation enough in the rest of society. This should be the place where she should feel comfortable being herself. Keeping oneself central: When you notice yourself adjusting your dominance to fit someone else’s comfort, a community’s standards, another person’s idea of what a dominant woman should be, then that’s the signal. You’ve drifted off center. It also means letting go of dominance as performance and finding it as a disposition. It’s not something you switch on when the context calls for it and justify to others afterward. It’s just how you move through the world. Some days that looks commanding. Some days it looks like quietly refusing to accommodate something that doesn’t serve you. Both count. Your pleasure, your curiosity, your standards, and your pace are not things you earn the right to after proving yourself to a community. They have always been yours and they have always been with you. Your dominance doesn’t need a label to be valid. Labels can be useful shorthand but they’re descriptive, not prescriptive. The moment a label starts telling you who to be rather than reflecting who you already are, it has overstayed its welcome. Other people’s reactions are information, not instructions. A person who is uncomfortable with how your dominance actually looks is telling you something useful about compatibility. A community that only respects you when you perform is telling you something useful about whether it deserves your energy. You are not the thing that needs adjusting. Note it, don’t change, and move on. Your interests are not a negotiation opener. As in the rest of society, dominant women are still expected to center others even within dynamics that should be explicitly designed around their pleasure. Notice when you’re doing the emotional labor of managing someone else’s experience of your dominance at the expense of actually having it. That’s the old conditioning in new clothes. Find your own metrics. If the only way you can tell whether a dynamic was good is by how the other people respond, you’re still measuring by someone else’s ruler. What did you get out of it? Did it feel like you? Did you leave it feeling more yourself or less? Finally, you don’t owe anyone a performance or any legible version of your dominance. Not random people, not other dominant women, not the community, not the internet. Authentic authority is quiet in that way. It doesn’t need the room to recognize it. It just |
A guide for dominant women on reclaiming their authority from the communities and expectations that were supposed to celebrate it.
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