On My Own
Most of us spend our days in the real world, splayed on the cold, hard brick and mortar of reality. We might have the occasional fantasy—sexual or otherwise—but our feet remain solidly grounded.
Some of us have a hard time dealing with reality and need to escape. Escaping now and then can be healthy, but you can go too far, out past the ‘no swimming past this point’ sign, where the lines between fantasy and reality blur. Once you relocate to a fantasy world, strange things can happen, like they did to me a few years back when I was getting divorced.
When my first wife and I got divorced, I was devastated and certain I'd never find love again. After 13 years together I'd grown a bit (meaning very) dependent. Even the smallest decision was a challenge for me, so I was filled with dread at the the thought of leaving. But living on my own could be a chance to take care of myself. Or a chance to find someone else to make my decisions.
I'd always been turned on by BDSM, but my ex had little interest. So, instead of telling myself I was looking for a way to deal with my insecurities, I told myself I wanted a Mistress to distract me from my loneliness. I could have tried to meet someone in the real world. But that would have meant leaving my apartment. There had to be an easier way.
As luck would have it, something called the Internet had arrived a few years earlier to help people connect without having to actually meet. I was immediately hooked. After a few weeks of chatting and a lot of jerking off, I got an IM from a Mistress Marg. I'd chatted with mistresses before, but they all disappeared after a couple days. I was too self-involved (I know, so hard to believe) or they would flake out.
Mistress Marg was different. She was kind, understanding, interested in what I had to say. And she really was a woman. She wasn't getting a lot of attention in her marriage and was overwhelmed by all the changes in her life. And she loved telling people what to do. We were a match made in cyberspace.
In addition to chatting, I'd done some cyber-sleuthing of past girlfriends (thank you again, all-power Internet). I found my high school sweetheart, who was going through a divorce and looking for an escape as well. Soon we were chatting daily and I was making plans to move back to the East Coast to be with her. Clearly she was the love of my life, and as soon as we were living together, things would be perfect.
Through the Looking Glass
But far from perfection, when I moved and the relationship went from virtual to real, all the old disputes returned. We were rehashing fights we'd had twenty years earlier. I dealt with it by retreating even further online.
I kept telling myself it was just a game. Mistress Marg started pushing me more and I let her. Many times we didn't even chat, she'd talk with others in the chat room while I sat watching. It wasn't a lot of attention, but it was better than sitting in my apartment alone, or fighting with my girlfriend.
Mistress Marg liked having me lock myself in a closet for a couple hours. She'd have me set a timer because she couldn't be bothered calling when it was time to get out—she was a busy woman.
One weekend she had me put my wallet in a box. She told me I could get 1 thing out of my wallet; a credit, a driver's license, some money, but only 1 thing for the day. Another time she had me superglue my thumbs to my hand so I couldn't use them. It was exciting to give up that much control, but it made opening jars impossible.
Pushed Back Into Reality
Things in my real life deteriorated. I got laid off and finally broke up with my girlfriend. I wanted to spend all day online; some days I did. Mistress Marg grew concerned. She didn't want me sitting in my apartment feeling sorry for myself. She told me to find clients for Web design projects (she was determined to turn me into an entrepreneur).
She also pushed me to meet people in the real world. Talking to people instead of typing was a strange experience. There was no time to think about what to say or check spelling. And some of the women I met wanted to date me. Mistress Marg found this a bit surprising, given how much time I'd spent explaining how shy and awkward I am. (I'm still sure no one likes me, and my two primary partners will leave me at any minute, and my boyfriend is not—oh, never mind, I'm just insecure.)
It was wonderful having someone telling me what to do. I didn't have to worry about making a wrong decision. I could just sit back and enjoy my life as if I were a passenger. Part of me wanted it to go on forever.
However, from half a world away Mistress Marg was unable to gauge who'd be a good match for me. And I was terrified of falling in love (I had a bad track record), so I'd go on dates and never try to kiss the woman.
She finally got annoyed with my whining and told me to start dating Linda, a woman from my church group. I wasn't very interested in Linda, but it beat being alone. And maybe I'd grow to love her. How many times did I need to learn that being alone beats being in a bad relationship? Apparently, once more.
And then I met Carlie.
The Beginning of the End
Carlie was 14 years younger than me and Mistress Marg was sure she was out of my league. I was determined to ask her out but Mistress Marg held me back. I started to suspect Mistress Marg might not always make the best decisions for me. Could it be that I should be making choices for myself? How could that possibly work?
I broke up with Linda to focus on Carlie. Mistress Marg told me I was ruining my chances with Carlie. To be fair, my other friends agreed. They thought I was just a sex toy for Carlie. (Actually, Carlie later admitted she was only in it for the sex at first. Being me is both a blessing and a curse.)
But I knew we'd make a great couple. I slowly started introducing Carlie to BDSM. She'd never done anything kinky, but loved everything we tried. Some things she liked more than I did. And I discovered that BDSM is a lot hotter in the real world, and the spankings sting a lot more.
I still checked in with Mistress Marg but it felt like cheating. However, I was too dependent to end it myself. Finally, Carlie told me I had to choose. There was no question what I'd do. It was time to return to the real world.
Mistress Marg took it hard and stopped talking to me immediately. After four years of chatting almost daily she cut me off cold turkey. When I complained she replied, "Well, you knew I was a bitch." And she was right.
Life In the Real World
Breaking up with Mistress Marg was the right decision. And maybe she didn't have all the answers; no one does, but she did teach me a lot. In the end I learned that I can make good choices for myself and it's okay to be assertive about my wants and needs.
I also learned that spending too much time online is bad for your real-life relationships. Some of the people I used to chat with have moved back into the real world, but some have moved on to Second Life or World of Warcraft. I wonder if they'll ever return.
I still go online and chat; it's a great escape. But I do it in small doses and I'm careful not to let others tell me what to do. Giving up control is far too compelling a drug. And I care too much about my real life relationships to let anything threaten them again.