"I Love It When You Call Me Big Poppa."

I like being submissive in bed. I like playing (gentle) roles of power where someone can tell me what to do. I like feeling helpless. Safe and helpless. Under someone else's guidance where for once I don't have to fucking think Think THINK all the time.

I like using appropriate power-type nicknames during said waves of just being taken care of in bed.

However, this is definitely not something I bring up with everyone. It takes a major step in comfort and trust for me to start calling anyone by anything that might seem...daddy-like (not that that's the word I use or I have one word I use in particular...trust I'm a girl who loves variation). Because I certainly know the way it might seem. Yes. I've admitted I have father issues. Yes. I have a thing for older men (and women for that matter). Yes. It could certainly be misconstrued that my sexual desires are somehow unfortunately intertwined with my unfortunate childhood.

But that's not it. Not even a little.

I'm drawn to older people because quite honestly I'm just not your average twenty-four-year- old. I'm not saying I have some all-knowing wisdom of someone beyond my years. I'm saying I've had sort of a string of things occur in life that perhaps give me a different outlook than most people my age. A new friend really seemed to get me last night when he said that I hadn't seemed any age when he met me. Just sorta ageless. (Obviously we're talking about things outside appearances.) There could be a lot of truth to that, I suppose. In some ways, I've lived a lot of life. And in many others I don't know a damn thing...kinda puts me in a unique place. So I do tend to relate to people older than me with much more ease than a lot of my friends my age.

So the daddy thing...I like being submissive in relationships and often times I have been younger than my obliging partner. Here's the difference though between what I crave in sex...and what I hold against my father. With sex, I'm desperate to just be in the moment with someone guiding me along. A benevolent master type who allows me to just be a little plaything. A plaything my partner wants to please and take care of— allowing me to just have some peace in my head when I'm wrapped up in bed.

There are so few times my mind doesn't have to be going a million times a minute, and when I really and truly trust someone, I like to be able to just ask them to take care of me. To be my sugar daddy in the non-money sense of the term.

Because if I'm trusting someone enough that I can say the things and do the things that really turn me on, then that person has already proven that they respect and care for me. By the time I trust someone that much, we don't have any issues of me feeling afraid of being abandoned or betrayed or hurt.

My father and I have never reached that type of relationship. He does not know me because I think if he did he wouldn't like it much. So we just don't speak about anything real. Ever. We keep it surface because at this point I'm too old to want him to be a father and too young for us to really have all our wounds healed up. Because I'm sure he could tell you in my later years, as the anger grew, I inflicted plenty of my own. What I mean is, when it comes to my father, it's an issue of wanting him to respect the woman I became—whether in spite of him or because of him or maybe a little bit of both.

But by the time I can call someone by a name that really shows what I want, it has nothing to do with my past and everything to do with what that person is doing right at that moment in my present. And honestly, I've recently decided I'm kinda through with not just being me. It's a delicious freedom like I've never tasted.