Birds of a feather...

OK, so this is going to be a fairly short post, but I must say...after having JUST posted about the loneliness...what an AMAZING feeling when you meet a sister soul.  I have to give a shout out to what just might be a budding Femme Daddy that I met recently.  She fed my soul in a way I do not often get on this isolated path.  To hear my own thoughts mirrored so perfectly was intense.  I have met a few people here or there who understand somewhat my path and my thoughts...but very very rare is an understanding like that.

One interesting topic that came up during the conversation was the cross over between queer identity and gender identity.  I am going to ponder this one before I post anymore on the topic...but it will likely be my next post because part of the conversation between the two of us so closely mirrors a conversation I had with my boy when I was figuring out who I was that it brought tears to my eyes.

So here's to many more future interactions and finding more of our kind.

Strutting in high heels
Hard packing, short skirt, fish nets...
Perfectly at home.

Cheers,
Daddy Rose

One is the loneliest number...

I have found in some ways that being different equates to moments of loneliness.  Especially in the kink community I find our identity or roles sometimes delineates are acceptable interactions.  As a non submissive female, it is like the female energy is negated by not being on the same side of the flogger.  Aside from friends that I had before the transition to top land, I feel like I have suddenly become a 'them' to the majority of women in the community.  It is funny that now that I am coming into my own as a femme I feel isolated from women who don't understand the queer identity.  I found myself with a group of women the other day, but among them I was the only dominant.  I might as well have been from a different planet.  I 

So as a Daddy Domme, I also feel like I have to be 110% on all the time.  It is hard enough to be a female domme, but to self identify as Daddy means I have enveloped the male title and energy...I feel like because of the grossly misplaced double standard for gender especially in a dominant role, any slip up or sign of femininity is seen as a submissive trait or at the least 'less dominant'.  So I can be in a group full of dominants and feel so shut off from everyone.  

Sigh...it is funny.  For the first time I feel completely at home in my own skin.  I love who I have become and who I have surrounded myself with.  But outside of my small group, I feel like I have to stay aloof and somewhat standoffish in order to maintain my image, if that is in fact what I want to do.

I guess I just feel like the more I embrace my identity, the more lonely social situations become.  And that is just not me on the whole.

Who will approach me

Standing alone in a crowd

Love this Femme Daddy

Cheers,

Daddy Rose

Is it more "If you build it they will come" or "Marcooooo......Polo!" scenario

So over the course of the last couple weeks, my relationship has been put to the test...now mind you, it passed with flying colors...however, it has brought up an interesting point of debate.  Is a good D/s relationship like a game of Marco, Polo where you are seeking out a mate that fits your needs like a puzzle from the get go...or is it more like the slow masterful creation of a sculpture out of a lump of clay...obviously the ingredients blend together to make a cohesive unit, but it takes the interplay of the skilled hands of the master and the pliable nature of the clay to make a work of art.

I have seen big D types go through little s types like bridezilla might go through dresses in a bridal shop --too big, too small, not flashy enough, too gaudy, that one won't show off the girls, dear lord where did the rest of that one go...you start to wonder if after the 4th 'collared' submissive is released in nearly as many months if that big D wants the perfect match and is unwilling, incapable, or just doesn't know how to put the work in to create what they want.  However, I know this is the negative end of this view point.  I have seen people who seem to meet each other's needs from the get go.  It is quite a beautiful thing when it happens...one that I know nothing of.  HAH.

Which leads me to the concept of building something out of nothing...however, it really isn't out of nothing.  Every relationship has a foundation.  I can already tell you that certain character traits that I know our deeply rooted in the core of who I am make me much more suited for this path...for instance, my hopeless fascination with the idea of love at first sight...or my desire to see to the heart of people and truly bring out what is good and deserving and special...the whole diamond in the rough ideal.  So you find that one person that you just can't live with out...but then you realize awww, hell --as far as styles you are as opposite as you can be, at times you are communication retarded, and you can't find the words to describe your differences or your needs...all the sudden the perfect person is no longer so perfect and you become one of the people who start looking for that missing puzzle piece from the get go...This very scenario makes my heart sad.  Where there is a will, there is a way.  The beauty of this lifestyle lies in the opportunities to learn all these skills deemed necessary for a successful relationship in a nonthreatening environment with others doing the same thing.

I have added so many useful tools to my communication belt in my short couple years in the community.  How to navigate figuring out what you want vs what you need, determining the manner in which you give and receive love to determine if it is compatible, allowing the other person their emotions even when it hurts you to do so, realizing when it is about you vs when it is about them, understanding the benefit and the difference between personal growth and growth as a couple, learning to use phrases that they need to hear that gets the point across that you need to make, learning to do things for their continued presence in the relationship, and last in the last but not last in the grand scheme of things...taking time to reflect and remember what it is you fell in love with about that person and still love about that person AT LEAST once every single day.

I have to say, my boy and I have been together almost 3 years and Lord knows we were blissfully unaware of our differences for a while and it took intentional purposeful conversation and interchange to discover where we were and where we want to be, and where we have to head to get there.  But what a rewarding experience to go through together.  How much more beautiful the interchange when we both know the work it took to get there and the emotion behind each request or act or task.  To be a part of such growth and development and amazing energy is a true blessing...one that I simply cannot take for granted.  We are stronger and closer now than we have ever been, but only just beginning this journey to where we want to eventually be.

Cheers,
Daddy Rose

Tough love, mean Daddy

I have a love hate relationship with my nature as a Daddy...not really, I don't honestly think one can love/hate something that is intrinsic to their nature.  However, there are times I really like being a Daddy and there are times when it is just flat rough.

I like to make my loved ones happy, I appreciate spoiling those around me as often as I can.  I enjoy having nice things, going to fun places, seeing the smiles and knowing I had a part in bringing them about...

But sometimes things are not so easy.  Some lessons are best learned by a swift face plant into the asphalt and while my natural desire to protect and nurture would have me instinctively reach my arm out to prevent the fall it does nothing but prolong the agony of the actual lesson that comes from the fall.  If one does not know how bad it hurts to be careless or not pay attention to where one is going they will not heed all the warning signs in the future.  While this may be a lame excuse for an analogy it is very true.

Some submissives, and I would venture people in general, cannot learn from other people's mistakes or detours away from life's journey.  They must work through it on their own.  When your submissive is a boy who has only relatively recently hit puberty, those lessons are simultaneously harder to learn, harder to watch, and more painful to go through.  It is quite difficult to come to terms with a world that you are only starting to realize is not all about you but that you definitely have something to contribute to.  

So at the risk of my own feelings, emotional roller coaster, and pain response to watching someone learn hard lessons, here is to tough love and sticking to your guns and making it out the other side stronger.

Here is to the real joy and trial and reward of being a Daddy.

Cheers,

Daddy Rose

Playing with wolves...

Now you may think from the start of this that I will not actually get to the wolf part, but believe me I will.

Growing upMuch I wanted to be bare foot and preggo by 19.  I wanted to live out in the country and have a whole basketball team full of kids and a garden and have my friends over for tea.  Well, at 19 when I had never even been kissed, I changed my mind...technically at 18 I changed my mind.  Turns out I hadn't even been kissed, so being preggo that soon was out of the question and I didn't have anyone to rely on for that fairy tale so I decided to become a self sufficient woman who can stand on her own two feet and do what she damn well pleases.  There is a probably a tiny piece of me...this hopeless romantic quiet demure voice in the back of my head...that always hoped that some handsome suave gentleman would sweep me off my feet and I would have that childhood dream.  HAH.  The problem with that is in the process I loved who I became in a way.  I am wicked intelligent, well spoken, driven, and passionate.  I create plans, make lists, get things done.

So then I enter this wonderful world of BDSM and leather where I can have the career, be wicked intelligent, love my strength and...low and behold create this 1950s household, be a powerful submissive for this amazing intelligent dominant male and live happily ever after...maybe it is a tad more twisted than the original dream as it involves implements of torture, collars, sexual undertones, giving up some decisions...but I really thought I was ok with that.  So I honestly though that I could be an amazing submissive.  I am proactive in service, I honestly want to make the people I love happy.  I am observant and somewhat organized...my memory is quite impressive.  I note personal preferences as habit for those around me.  I cook, I can clean, I am awesome with kids....so where is the catch you say?

I found that submission has to be given the the right person.  For it to work with me that person has to be all in like me.  They can't have ridiculous rules like when in the house you have to be naked and crawling and leashed...unless it serves a purpose...for instance to get over body image issues.  I want someone who had a purpose in their lives other then general amusement...at least that had to be the majority rule.  So slowly over time I realized that the very qualities that would make me an awesome submissive would also make me an amazing Daddy domme.  Much easier to wrap my mind around all the rules when I create them.  Yes, it took time and yes it was a growth experience but it was worth it.

However, there is this teeny weenie problem...I am fuck all masochistic.  Pain is about strength, about perseverance, about conquering fear, about catharsis and emotional release, about passionate living, and about intense feelings and taking control of my body when I feel like other things around me are falling out.  So what does this mean when I give up bottoming regularly in the progression to Domme...I lose part of myself.  I wall it away and I start to question things.  I feel more pain and have less control over my body.  However, having been burned so many times I have lost the sincerity or naivety or whatever let me blindly submit until it was no longer earned rather than be cautious until it was earned...day to day living I need to be in charge.

So where does my pure desire to submit and serve and feel pain come out...why with playing with wolves of course.  Where I am reduced to primal instincts and forced to face fear head on...when it is taken down to a basic survival and procreate instinct.  The play is so much more intense, sexual, primal, self serving.  In a way I see myself as the female leader of the pack recognizing a mate strong enough to take me and giving in to desire.  I can justify overwhelming desire and the seemingly conflicting sides of my person when I put it in this format.  However, when I come out of the moment it is like my desires and wishes come crashing down in a wave of total conflict...not to mention that my primal soul is attracted to multiple wolves..confidence, blood lust, pure beast...if I recognize that behind your eyes the beast pours out of me.

Because the beast is primal and focused on self and very instinctual I sometimes miss the affect playing with multiple wolves may have on my mates...that territorial male protecting fierce energy comes to surface and the potential danger for real injury is there.  I am suddenly drawn into the possibility of conflict and forced submission and I am not sure as of yet what to do with that sensation.  Part of me breathes a sigh of relief to have quieted the beast for a bit.  Part of me wonders what would happen to live in the beast always.  Part of me just feels silly for trying to put voice to something so primal it has no voice...

So here is to playing with wolves and not getting torn limb from limb in the process...am I up for the challenge?

Cheers,
Daddy Rose

Eating my words and owning the bitch...

So suddenly when one gets the community ball rolling again it suddenly seems like being out experiencing real life is much more important than blogging and this is what has happened recently to me...

I have found that when I say I absolutely will not (fill in the blank)...that the powers that be make me eat my words.  I came in with strong beliefs that I thought would not waiver...thoughts on love, on play, on limits, on monogamy, on sex, on titles.  Yet, the minute I make the thought sound like an absolute something comes along to blow past it.  My boy and I constantly talk about 'making your cup bigger' and that has definitely happened lately.  We also talk about the importance of growth and not necessarily growing together but growing at a somewhat comparable rate so we never outgrow the other.

I will say that we went to South Plains Leather Festival and it was definitely journey altering.  I realized that whatever the title one chooses to claim, it is important to believe it, to own it for oneself.  I used to loathe the word bitch...I found it so derogatory and nasty.  However, the more dominant I become and the more ok I am with my dominance, the more and more that word gets thrown in my direction.  So I decided that I was going to stop fighting it.  If being a strong confident woman gets me called a bitch, then so be it.  If I stand up for what  I believe in in a direct straight forward one on one context and the person I am talking to can't hack it and calls me a bitch, then so be it.  If I rock having not one, but two leather boy pups in my pocket at a gay leather club and the jealous Daddies call me a lucky bitch, then so be it.  I like who I am...all of me...and if that makes me a bitch, then SO BE IT.  I can rock it.

And now for the highlights of the weekend (in no particular order and some to be fleshed out later)...

Meeting some beautiful people from across the pond and following them around to feed off their energy and accents, lol...totally shamelessly.  

Really beginning to understand the value of words and how they can unintentionally convey a completely different meaning than what is intended.

Learning that consciously deciding to make your relationship a spiritual pratice taps you into the greater energy and focuses the journey.

I have a thing for nerdy dirty talk and I could listen to slave Joshua say 'sexual skills' all day long...and yes, it would just do it for me.

Being confident enough to put yourself out there and be open to what comes pays off in a big way.

The boy looks amazing in latex...yeah, i know...Shocker.

Family is important...sometimes we don't always choose family, it chooses us, and that is totally ok.  I have expanded my inner circle exponentially and it feels amazing.

My boy has grown by leaps and bounds and has expressed a desire to be recuffed and earn back his collar as a slave...completely emotional roller coaster but so so proud of him.

Having confidence in your place in things speaks volumes and gains more respect from the community at large than what your actual place is.

Feminine leather power exists in many beautiful forms and I have been blessed to make connections to be able to watch that grow.

I can incorporate dancing into my kinks and it adds a dynamic that I absolutely love.

My heart, the energy at my very core...is leather...family, respect, structure, discipline, honor, and camaraderie.

Until next time...

Cheers,

Daddy Rose

The middle ground

So now that I have time to post and have gotten past defining the Rose colored glasses through which this blog is going to be written (giggles uncontrollably at the horribly nerdy pun), I have decided to write about yet another juxtaposition in my life...I honestly think I thrive on living in the gray areas.

Have you ever noticed how people's approach to life sometimes seems to be an all or nothing thing?  Like one can be realistic and practical or one can be a hopeless romantic and a dreamer.  I am sure there are various shades of gray represented in between, but you just don't heart about them all that often...or if you are like me and have some of both one or the other takes over depending on the situation and you feel torn in two.

If you were able to have just a glimpse into the home I grew up in as a kid, where I got my practical, no nonsense, analyze everything, go above and beyond in personal research, reserved approach to life would be painfully obvious.  I was so afraid to start dating someone when I was a teenager because someday if I ever got married I would have to kiss them in front of my mother...yes it was that awkward to display or admit to any emotion other than stoic.

I am not sure I can even tell you where the hopeless romantic came from.  To some extent, I know my dad is one...and my brother...but me?  I think people have an innate desire to have all of their dreams come true and it is only through painful, growth causing life experiences that we get that desire squashed out of us...but true hopeless romantics...that doesn't really happen.  They get knocked down and get right back up and try again.  I have had my heart broken twice...and they are not the events that most people expect...but I think if possible I came back more determined to go at it again.  Doesn't make any sense.  Call me a glutton for punishment...or I am in fact a hopeless romantic.  =) But truthfully it pays off, because right now I feel like I have everything a girl could ever want and more...and it was because I wasn't willing to give up on my dreams or fail to see them through.

So when the two collide what happens...It goes one of two ways...my head takes over or my heart takes over. Lately there have been issues come up in my leather life that I can only get one or the other to wrap around...for instance, my boy has asked for certain things that up until this point have only been done with me.  I can wrap my head around how those things might be enjoyable and how they do not detract from the fact that he loves me...but then my heart tightens and I feel sick at my stomach because dammit he is mine, I have worked hard to catch him, and I am damn well going to keep him.  I know this is silly and there is no founded reason but until my heart jumps on board I cannot allow certain requests...but then, like now, I find myself where the flip side is true and I cannot for the life of me figure out which is the lesser of two evils.

I have happened upon a situation where it just feels good.  I don't know if it was a right place, right time or the natural progression of things.  It is something we have talked about as being a goal of ours.  All I know is that my heart and body feel in alignment and 100% all in...but then there is the tiniest nagging feeling in my brain that continues to hold onto my narrow naive realistic vanilla world viewpoint and it makes it hard to take that last step and just let it be.  It is like if I haven't analyzed it to death then it couldn't possibly be fool proof.

But the funny thing is...first of all, nothing is fool proof.  Second, the things in my life that are going most smoothly, make me the happiest, actually enhance and enrich my life, give me something to look forward to...they are all times my heart has taken the lead.  What does that tell you?  Possibly in my world being a hopeless romantic isn't such a bad thing...

Yet again the juxtaposition lives on...

Cheers,

Daddy Rose

Drum roll please...

And now the moment that will shape the course of the rest of my blog...

What the hell I mean when I say Femme Daddy.  So by combination of the previous two posts this would mean a female identified person who is noticeable or stereotypically feminine in appearance or manner who takes the dominant fatherly role within a kink or leather relationship.  So for what that really looks like...

In no particular order, I may two step but I will take the lead always, I have no qualms wearing combat boots with a denim mini, I will beat your ass black and blue but you will carry my bags and set up my scene for me, I will pummel you with my foam bats but they are hot pink, I will give you a lecture about your wrong doings and accompany that with poetry recitation, my Daddy look is conveyed just as strongly from behind mascara and red lipstick, I will kick you with my combat boots...that have embroidered roses up the side, I may wear makeup but I am not afraid to mess it up to teach you a lesson, I may wear a hair fascinator and barrettes and such, but I will pull my hair back to get down to business, I can stand in my girl outfit a toss a drink back or smoke a cigar with the best of the other Daddies, I will use my cock to piss on my boy straight from underneath my skirt, and I know my attachable cock doesn't have to have balls for me to take other people's.  =D

So I couldn't tell you really when I knew this was how I identified.  There was no single 'Aha!' moment...more a slow coming into my own.  I tried the jeans, military pants, boots black shirts thing...but I missed my skirts and the lace and the frills and everything else.  Then I swung the opposite way with heels and corsets and the whole nine yard but that sooo did not work.  My boy even contemplated the mommy nick as he did something that Daddies don't really have to offer, but again major FAIL.  So to once again be blazing trails and starting fires.  Here's to the sweet life!

Cheers,
Daddy Rose

Daddy, please...

Do you ever have personality traits of qualities that until someone points them out you don't really know exist or do not realize the full potential of them. This is how my Daddy side came to be.

So what is a Daddy within the leather community...It is an dominant individual, usually male, in the kink community who takes on the fatherly role within a D/s relationship.  So again I say, what does that look like in my own life...

In no particular order, I love my boy, I am apt to use punishment as a learning opportunity and not just for the hell of it, I wear well shined boots as often as I can, I can cut and smoke a cigar and use my boy as an ashtray, I can make sex about sex and nothing more, I can hold my own in a fight, I can exude a raw energy that is outside the bounds of feminine energy, I am a fan of saying rub some dirt in it, I am fiercely protective and will come to blows over what is mine, I know that sometimes people have to learn lessons on their own or they won't stick, I am not afraid to let my boy get a black eye every now and again to help him grow, I expect no less than someone's best or it just isn't worth playing the game, I know I wear the pants in the relationship, I know the power of a well given lecture over corporal punishment, I love knowing that I help boys (or girls) achieve personal growth.

No, calling myself Daddy is not about penis envy, that is the beauty of a strap on...I have yet to see a biomale strap on a cunt.  They don't know what they are missing, lol.  I am not denouncing my feminine side, hence still calling myself femme. I don't want to be a male. I don't feel like men are the superior sex. I do not need to call myself Daddy to gain respect or feel powerful.

I do have a strong relationship with my own Dad.  I am very much like him and if you are ever around the two of us together you will inevitably hear us bust out with the same phrase at the same time or display the same habits or have the same views on things.  It is what it is. Additionally, I definitely see parallels between how my dad treats my mom and how I treat my boy.  At times it makes me proud, and at times it makes me reconsider my actions if I see my mom getting hurt. In some ways it has been very eye opening and given me insight into Daddy/boy relationships in a way that casual observance of the leather community cannot.

Additionally, it was my boy who asked to call me Daddy, rather then the other way around.  It slipped out one day, much in the way an 'I love you' gets thrown into a relationship for the first time, and for me it was just as meaningful.  At some point that same night, I had strapped and forced my boy to deep throat my cock, but when he actually said it he was over my knee being spanked and he asked "One more,  Daddy, please..." He then turned bright red as if he had done something wrong and watched my face to see how I would react.  It was like a new wine that you roll around your mouth to see how it tastes before making a final decision. Of course, out loud to validate my boy's feelings I said, 'Tell Daddy how bad you want it.'  The first several times it was said helped to break it in and now it is like a favorite pair of jeans.  It just flat does it for me. I don't make a big deal about pronouns even when he calls me Daddy.  They just aren't important to me in the way they are to others.  I will respond equally to either.  Being called Daddy goes way beyond pronouns or gender references.  It is more the feeling of the energy exchanged between my boy and I...raw, sexual, loving, encouraging, just me.

Where the blend comes in is next...

Cheers,
Daddy Rose

Let's start with the Femme

So the intent of my next couple posts is to flesh out this idea of a Femme Daddy and to do it justice and make it understandable I will split it into parts and give some personal background.

Today, I will focus on the Femme side as it comes first when I write it out.  According to Merriam Webster a femme is a woman (can be lesbian) who is noticeably or stereotypically feminine in appearance or manner.  Now what does this mean in my world?  

 In no specific order...My go to outfit often includes some sort of skirt, I love my long hair, I can rock red lipstick, I expect and appreciate chivalry, roaches don't scare me but that is what I have a boy for, I am a hopeless romantic, I cry at movies, I love to cook and bake, my boots have roses on them, fishnets are my friend, pedicures are a must and boys should know how to do them, I think about marriage because I want a wedding, I have my fair share of blonde moments, I adore getting flowers and yes I even have a favorite, I expect to celebrate holidays and not always have to be the one making the plans, I am not above my date paying for dinner but I won't force it, I know the power of feminine curves and I am ok exploiting them, I am occasionally known to screech when startled, I am in love with hair fascinators, I drink girly alcoholic beverages, I two step (stay tuned for the twist tomorrow), I can wear boots with skirts, I wear pink sometimes just to annoy my boy, my writing is bubbly, I like love letters, I can work a sashay when I know someone is staring at my ass, I don't care that high heels were created to make my ass look bouncier, it is very likely if I think you are hot I know what color your eyes are, I don't like getting dirty if I don't have to or when it is not on my terms, I like to be touched and loved on and seduced before someone fucks me, part of me would rather say gee golly or gosh darn it then damn it all to hell because a lady never swears, I much prefer my boy maintains my car and the yard but I of course know how if I need to, I know I look amazing in a corset, I love wearing expensive perfume,  I take bubble baths, I read a cheesy romance novel every Christmas, I love love love the holiday season, I carry a hairbrush in my purse and extra mascara and lip gloss, I keep everything my boy gives me because I like looking at it over and over again, I may wear a leather vest but there will be lace somewhere to compensate, and I am ok with all of it.

I used to fight the femme.  I was a tomboy. I didn't own a skirt until my senior year of high school except for my confirmation dress.  I wouldn't be caught dead in pink. I play sports. I could out bench press over half of the guys football team in high school, I never went to school dances, I wouldn't miss bonding time with my dad for the world, I knew my way around a tool box, I dated a girl but I had to wear the pants in the relationship, I could burp the alphabet, I loved cutting up things in anatomy class, I like to be the one driving, lord knows my hands weren't broken so why in the hell did I need a door open for me, I liked working so hard I broke a sweat, and i blushed if anyone even pretended to see my curves.

So what changed? I met a boy who let me be me.  I decided that I could be girly and femme and still be strong and independent. I decided life was too short to not do what I love doing and I cherish authenticity.  I  stopped running from the idea that amazon type women - with height and strength and curves - could be feminine.  I stopped hating myself.  It is definitely a good thing.

Now that I have made myself out to the the ultra-femme, stay tuned for the Daddy side. *wickedgrin*

Cheers,

Daddy Rose

Defining a community

To even begin to understand or define one's role within the context of a community, one first must flesh out the idea or definition of the community itself at least in the given context.  The particular community in question is...*gasp* Leather.  The elusive predominantly gay male, sex driven, masculine stuff of wet dreams founded in the post World War II era of military order, biker clubs, sexual repression, extreme secrecy, and an ever present desire to 'fit in' and find acceptance.  So what pray tell does a non gay (strike), female (strike), nonmilitary (strike), twenty nine year old (strike-forget me, my parents were not even born when leather started in the USA) Femme (strike) who has only been on a motorcycle once have to offer to this subject...I am going to go with a fresh perspective and what may possibly be the current allure to an atypical population which is constantly growing in these subsequent generations.

Now is where I am sure someone somewhere is wishing lightning might strike me dead, if it they hadn't wished it already.  I am by NO MEANS a leader or authority or historian or final voice or voice at all of the leather community.  I am merely a participant observer.  For a "true history" or as close as one can get to a history of a community that exists by word of mouth or experience or by actually walking the journey day to day and living to tell about it to us newbies, there are countless other resources that are better suited to the purpose and I will name just a few to start you off if that is what you seek:

Leather Archives Museum http://www.leatherarchives.org/

Women in Leather International http://www.wil-international.org/

National Leather Association - International http://www.nla-i.com/

Gay Leather Fetish History http://www.cuirmale.nl/index.htm

The Old Guard by Guy Baldwin http://www.blackandtansociety.com/ach/gbaldwin.html

This list is by no means extensive and I am by no means endorsing these sites over others, merely giving one a starting place if here is not where you want to be.

So with the hopefully sufficient disclaimer out of the way, why am I hopelessly drawn and engrossed in a subculture that does not seem to have a place for me?  In my humble opinion at the core of leather is still this ideal of camaraderie, acceptance, and protection in the face of sexual repression or at the least a lack of true sexual freedom for sexual minorities.  It is about feeling comfortable in your own skin around people who share a love of discipline, order, respect, raw sexuality, open sexual expression, and a love of leather - the sight, smell, taste, feel and sound...steeped in tradition.  When phrased as such, it does not seem so exclusive.  This is not to say that leather roots and history and tradition are not important because they are integral to this concept of community.  Without a knowledge of where we came from, there is no way to set your sights on where we can go.

That being said, I totally get why a gay leather male would not want me in his space.  I understand why they feel like their culture has been diluted and polluted by the very thing they rebelled against...it is like when we are kids and we try out for a sports team, sometimes we just don't make the cut.  There is this current idea that to hurt someone's feelings by not being inclusive is taboo and totally unacceptable.  But so much of life is about making the cut, fitting in, being good enough and to try to disillusion the masses into a false sense of security in their ability or contribution does dilute the power of a team or in this case, a community.  So now that it seems I have totally contradicted myself, I am going to muse on what I have observed...

I am going to use that high school analogy one more time.  Do you remember walking into the high school cafeteria or wherever and seeing all the different groups - the nerds, the jocks, the drama, the goth -they all have their different style, lingo, mannerisms, and unspoken rules.  Every single rule may not apply to every individual every time, but in a sense there is a group mentality where you act the part to be recognized by your chosen group and ultimately accepted.  I have seen people do things that are ego dystonic becuase they want so bad to be part of a group.  When the leather community originated, it seemed to follow this mold - look the part, act the part, speak the part, earn your way in.  Even when it started, leather was not as 'uniform' as we would like to think.  The reason there are so many arguments over what is 'true leather' or who really lived 'old guard' is because leather, at its essence, is what the individual makes of it.  Even then there were leather men who were only into the appearance (what i have heard referred to in today's time as Stand and Model), there were those partially into kinky sex, totally into kinky sex, those that sat on both sides of the flogger and those who liked it all.  However, they knew how to look or what to say to be a part of it all.  They played by the rules in order to play the game.  Yet, despite this conformity, leather is anything but conformity...it was a group designed to toe the line and push limits.  They recognized a need to have company paving the way to hell (or at least one hell of a good time) and made it happen.  I would imagine that when there was a lack of a group or something that was missing 'true leather folk' wouldn't stand around blaming the void on the groups or people that already existed...they would create a fix, a new clan, a new bar.  So why is the concept of forging our own way to new ideals so hard to grasp in a community purposefully pushing limits and riding the edge??  I don't think I can actually answer that with just one blog and it would be overly ambitious of me to try.

So, what is it that I want specifically?  I want a place to belong.  I don't want to have to explain myself every time I go out, because they will get it.  I want brothers and sisters I am willing to put my name, my reputation, and my resources on the line for because I know in an instant they would do the same for me.  I want order and hierarchy based on experience and wisdom.  I want energy exchange, raw sexuality, diversity, and play.  I want to smell sweat and leather and sex and hear the effort it took to get there.  I want a family who recognizes that there are traditions and roots and history that is rich and important but is only part of the leather journey we walk, for it cannot be changed, but the future can.

A really good friend once told me that if we had such a group, that lived out the ideals we wouldn't even have to call it leather.  For all intents and purposes we could form a corduroy clan and it would have the same effect...but I just don't want to look down at my boy licking my 'corduroy' boots, wear a 'corduroy' vest, or swing a 'corduroy' flogger...because let's face it, what the hell does that even smell like?

Cheers,
Daddy Rose

Allow me to Introduce Myself...

My name is Daddy Rose, as I am sure you can read from the side tab.  It is my intent to allow people a better understanding of what it means to be a Femme Daddy (at least from my perspective), but it would be silly to do it all in one post.  Though I must admit it would be quite like me to try.  Mostly what I would like to do in the introduction is set some ground rules...

At times I say things that are taboo or not as PC as they could be.  If you don't like it, don't read my blog.  I often use ..., sometimes excessively, and sometimes inappropriately...get over it.  I invite discussion and engaging discourse about the topics I will eventually write about, look forward to it actually.  At a bare minimum, I expect tolerance and respect of both myself and those that may comment on my page. I understand that the views reflected in my blog are my own views and may be highly subjective.  I am well aware that there are as many definitions of certain terms as there are people in the world and I am attempting to give some credence to one that is not very well understood at all.  I am ok with that.  No, I am not transgendered.  I have incredible respect for those that are as I have many friends that are and the topic may come up on occasion in this blog, but it is not the main focus and I fully embrace my cis-gendered nature.  I will be working through and fleshing out the definition of myself as much as I am the general subject of Femme Daddies.  At times I have been told I am funny as hell...I would venture a guess that 95% of the time it is unintentional and just who I am, so I wouldn't always expect it.

This venture is fully supported by the love and devotion of my boy, Lee.  Without him, I do not think I would have come to my current understanding of who I am quite as quickly or as fully.  My relationship with him has definitely influenced my identity as a Femme Daddy and I am grateful every day for his presence in my life.  I could not have picked a more perfect travel mate for this journey and I sincerely hope that everyone can experience this type of love at some point in their life...it makes the world go round.

See, I have made it through the first post without word vomiting all of my ideas into one long runon unreadable mess of a post...and I bet you are curious enough to come back and see just what it is I may be talking about. Mission accomplished.

Cheers,
Daddy Rose