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“Okay, looks like we have some talking to do, then.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, confused by her response.
“Luxe, I’ve known you for the better part of ten years. If there is one thing I know to be true about you, it’s that you don’t trust yourself.”
“Excuse me? I trust myself quite well, thank you very much.” I said defensively.
“No, actually, you don’t. You are an incredible Dominant. You were trained well and are much sought after. Your teacher was perfect, if I do say so myself,” she said with smug bravado.
“You were one hell of a teacher,” I agreed with a chuckle.
“Were? What’s this ‘were’ business?”
“Well, you stopped being my teacher years ago,” I explained.
“Pish posh, I did not. I’ve been your mentor since day one. That means I’ve never stopped my role of teacher. Your lessons are just fewer and farther between.”
“What’s your point here?” I asked derisively.
“My point is that while you are one incredible Domme, you have never trusted yourself with the other parts of your sexual life.”
“Meaning?”
“Your polyamory,” she answered. I could hear the kindness in her voice, but that didn’t assuage the rolling emotions currently making me feel nearly sick to my stomach.
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Of course you don’t. That’s what you do when things get uncomfortable. You tighten that fist of control and push it away. But at some point, Luxe, you will need to stop turning your trauma into a boundary.”
“Boundaries are a good thing, and should be set around trauma,” I said with a huff.
“Yes, I’m not arguing that point exactly. What I’m saying is that you’re setting the boundary and then pretending the issue doesn’t exist.”
“It doesn’t exist. If the boundary is set well, then the issue doesn’t come up.”
“And that would work just fine in some circumstances, but when it comes to trauma, you still have to do the work.” Her guidance was falling on deaf ears, however.Mydeaf ears.
“I have done plenty of work surrounding my trauma, Vix. You and I both know that. Hell, you attended therapy sessions with me once upon a time!” I argued, waving my hands around as I spoke, gesturing to no one at all. I looked like an idiot.
“I did. And what I remember — and more importantly, what I still see — is you shoving that trauma so far down inside yourself that it becomes a part of your subconscious, buried and forgotten.”
“It doesn’t affect me that way.” I scoffed defensively.
“But it does. Because you never dealt with it. Just setting a boundary doesn’t deal with the issue, it only protects you against having it happen again. But, love, you have to deal with it. You have to face it, stare deep into its eyes, and process it.”
“And how do you know I haven’t?” I asked sarcastically.
“Watch the sass, Luxe, but I know it because while you have had submissives over the years, you’ve never allowed yourself to really let anyone in.” Her words cut like a knife, and I felt myself shutting down in response, growing agitated and stubborn.
“I let people in. You know I care about my submissives very much.” I all but spat the words back at her, feeling unjustly called out. I even crossed my arms over my chest with more sass than I normally showed.
“No one is arguing that point, Luxe. What I’m arguing is that you’ve never allowed yourself to feel anything more than care and general affection. You and Jamie have a beautiful relationship, and a poly one to boot. He has opened himself up to love, and you accepted it with grace and compassion. But you’ve never given yourself the same opportunity,” she said with a firm tone that forced me to listen.
“I don’t need that.” I argued with her, pride and stubbornness fueling my derisiveness.
“Yes, but do youwantthat?”
I paused, my mouth hung open as words hung on the tip of my tongue.
