Tale of Two Collars

Tale of Two Collars

CW: Abuse, Abuse in a BDSM Dynamic

It was about a month or so ago, I came down with the worst cough that lasted about two weeks. It left my neck swollen from agitation and lead to me having to remove my collar. A simple action, taken for the care of me. Left me with some emotions. Both of the new kind and remembering things from my past. That week I even tried to write about it, but the cold took its toll. I looked back on the words I scribbled down in the haze of fever and cold medicine. Finding some deep feelings between the first time I was ever collared and now.

Control vs. Comfort

Many of the nights when I passed out I would ramble to Sir about how I felt. Often remarking on how I could not wrap my finger around the collar before sleep. There was no way to hold onto it. So it sat alone on my bedside table while I slept. The last thing I wanted to do was lose it in my bed or find it laying on the floor in the morning. My collar had become a thing of comfort to me. Knowing it was there, knowing I was protected, and knowing I was loved. Logically these things are clear but at the time of the fever, I was not a logical being.

When thought about why I felt that way, it was because the last collar was used to control me and used as a weapon against me mentally. To the point that I just, stopped wearing it. I kept it hidden away because I couldn’t look at it. Even though I kept it until two years ago when I just, didn’t pack it with my things. The reminders were not worth it, no matter how much I spent on it.

Possession vs. Submission

My collar is a sign of my submission. It is a thing I wear that reminds me that I belong to someone. When I wear it, I am his, this is my choice. Even when it was just a simple chain, it was my choice. I always knew that. With Sir, my submission is almost natural at times. It was something that happened even before the dynamic was fully a thing between us. The collar is a symbol and a reminder. A reminder that I often need when my anxiety gets too much of me. It reminds me to breathe. My submission is part of my healing.

My collar before was a reminder that I was a possession. Which on the surface does not sound different from what I wrote above. But it wasn’t my choice after long. I was a person to be owned and used. Which if it was consented to would be fine, even hot. But I learned quickly that in this case, it was not. They taught me that I had no choice. It was not about my submission, but about their control.

My bare neck with no collar on, taken during the week of the cold.

Then vs. Now

A lot has changed in five years, so much. I have moved states away from where I started. I have grown as a person and made some wonderful new relationships. My relationship with my Sir has slowly started showing me the red flags that I didn’t notice until later with my former partner. It has given me a chance to heal from the scars that it caused when it comes to my kinky life. Having someone in my life who has allowed me this chance to explore this side of myself again. My collar allows me to have a touchstone for that every day. It gives me a freedom that I can have a moment of escape. The collar gives me a way to ground myself.

I thought a lot about why I wrote this piece, especially because I touch on my abusive relationship quite a few times. I expounded on my Twitter why. These stories these words are important. Too many ‘Doms’ use a collar as a way to control a submissive. A collar to me is freedom. The submissive wearing it should feel safe when they wear it. That they know that its okay to be who they are. It is my hope that the things I have learned, will help others if they happen upon it.

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