Back in the 1960s and ‘70s, when the Leather community anchored in San Francisco was pretty much inventing modern BDSM, it was taken for granted that a would-be Dominant would begin training for power exchange by first serving as a submissive to a mentor Dom. After all, how could Dominants learn to control the submissive mind without fully experiencing submission themselves? Even today, schools for professional Dominatrixes (such as the academy run by Mistress Domiana Chi) requires all Doms in training to take on the submissive role for a time. Even the mainstream magazine Psychology Today, in an article on dominance and submission, quoted a study on BDSM within the larger framework of sexual desire in which the authors pointed out: “It takes training and experience to become a good dominant — usually by serving as a sub for an established Dom.”
Of course, that is not necessarily how a couple new to experimenting with power exchange will approach it. However common switching might be in casual kinky roleplay (so common!), in the privacy of one’s marriage or long-term relationship, it’s often obvious who the “bossy” one is and who likes to be in control, or which one tends to defer to the other. Indeed, for much of my experience with D/s, I identified so strongly as a submissive that I believed there could be no such thing as a true switch. In my mind, genuine power exchange required a definitive embrace of one role or the other, and I was certain most people have a “leaning” toward either Dominant or submissive determined by some kind swirl in the DNA of their personality. I was convinced that “we are what we are,” and if one’s BDSM genetics swirled in one way, it was not likely to swirl in the other.
I felt this to be inarguably true because, in my first experience with BDSM, I set myself on the path of Dominant to my submissive boyfriend, and ended up failing miserably at it. That failure caused me to set aside my interest in all things kink as “not right for me.” It was only years later, when my new husband began to dominate me and my soul sang to submission, that I thought, Aha! Kink is great, but only if one figured out the right role for them! I took on the identity of submissive with great enthusiasm, and did not deviate it for the next seven years. The idea of trying to be a Dominant again was ridiculous to me, while the idea of ever trying on submission was equally ridiculous to my husband. Indeed, we actually felt sorry for switchy types who couldn’t figure out where they belonged.
But something unfortunate happens when one clings too tightly to an identity. The identity starts to become everything, and you can start to lose yourself in it. You stop being open to new information, stop being able to grow. A dynamic that doesn’t evolve or allow new and different experiences can become stagnant, dull, even brittle, and more prone to cracks.
But something unfortunate happens when one clings too tightly to an identity. The identity starts to become everything, and you can start to lose yourself in it. You stop being open to new information, stop being able to grow. A dynamic that doesn’t evolve or allow new and different experiences can become stagnant, dull, even brittle, and more prone to cracks.
Then there is unpredictable life, which is annoyingly resistant to maintaining the status quo, and will sweep us along into new circumstances that can make our former identities suddenly uncomfortable. Which is what happened to me and my Daddy Dom a year or so after he had collared me. A foray into polyamory triggered a conflict in our marriage that knocked us for a serious loop, and my ability to surrender to him felt compromised. I withdrew my submission, a move that while necessary in my mind, was devastating to both of us. We had been a power exchange couple for literally our entire marriage and could not fathom going forward without it. And so we didn’t; we decided to switch instead. In one fell swoop, I became the Dominant, and my husband dropped to his knees in submission to me.
Switching Brings Hot New Energy
Our switch in roles was admittedly a shock to our systems at first, but ultimately it was a welcome one. In fact, switching released a sudden flood of new, hot sexual energy that we happily swam in for months. He was still my Daddy, but now a daddy (small ‘d’) who had willingly surrendered to his all-powerful Babygirl. After years of tamping down my own urges, my own voice, in favor of my Dom’s, I exulted at being suddenly suffused with power. I felt like Popeye after eating spinach, a muscular force. And oh, how giddy I became with the permission to indulge my every whim. It was pure joy to stick a gag in his mouth and have my way with his body. I loved putting him in a pain trance with some orchestrated cock torture. Meanwhile, he was relieved to be able to let go of responsibility for the first time in years, and deeply enjoyed the role of being an object to be used as I saw fit.
There was a chance it could have gone a different way. My darling Daddy hadn’t previously felt any kind inclination toward the bottom, and he might not have enjoyed it. Clearly, not everyone will thrill to a switch, or even be willing to try. While our experience leads me to believe there could be a little bit of a switch in all of us (more on how science supports that below), many kinksters are so happily ensconced on their side of the slash that the mere hint of trying out the other side makes them recoil. Certainly, there are some ways that switching can backfire; for example, if a Top who hates pain tries to bottom for an impact scene, that Top might find the whole thing such a turn-off that he/she could begin to feel uncertain about dispensing the torture that his/her bottom craves. We are all individuals, with individual reactions to experiences, and no two people are going to experience the same activities in the exact same way. But even in the absence of resonating with a particular sensation or feeling from experimenting with the opposite role, I would argue the attempt to switch, at least for a scene or two, is usually worthwhile for the profound insights each side can gain about the other.
In my case, experiencing the pressures of becoming a Domme gave me more empathy for some of what I might have considered my husband’s mistakes in dominating me in the past, because I made so many mistakes myself. And, because of my experience as a submissive I felt like I knew how to be an effective Dom. I knew what motivated feelings of surrender, and how important it was to employ submissive triggers, how important consistency, and most of all, how important to get his input into what worked for him. Meanwhile, he was learning much about the challenges of letting go and becoming vulnerable. And because of his experience as a Dom, he knew ways to make sure my Dominant self felt gratified. In fact, we both were so well-gratified by our switch, that we often believed our change in roles to be permanent.
Leaning Into The Switch Role
After a year and half of inhabiting opposite roles, I once again began to feel uncomfortably locked into place. However much I enjoyed strands of holding the power (cock torture!), there were others that did not feel so good to me. Listening to myself issue commands, I began to feel like a “bitch,” and didn’t like myself very well. (I have heard some Dommes say they enjoy the ability to indulge in their bitch-ness, but I seem not to be one of them.) Perhaps, if I had done some research, and experimented with different ways of being Dominant, such as Mistress Domiana Chi’s Dominatrix Archetypes, I might have found a Dom style that was more suited to me. But maybe not. In the end, I found I really didn’t like having to be the one to decide when to have sex; it was an unwelcome responsibility. My favorite part of being a submissive had been never having to analyze my desires, to just have sex happen to me, and I wanted that paradoxical sense of liberation back. Interestingly, my husband’s desire to initiate sex was the thing he most missed and wanted back. And so, we switched back again, with great fanfare and feelings of coming home to our essential roles.
We lasted about a month after switching back. Turns out, I didn’t feel myself to be essentially submissive after all, not anymore. I’d found my voice and didn’t want to surrender it again. Yet, I didn’t feel myself to be an essentially a Dom either. By default, we felt like we had to go back to the 50/50 equality of power that we accepted as the way of things back in our dating days. Yet, that arrangement soon had us miserably bickering at each other through various power struggles like many of our long-married friends. We didn’t want to be 50/50, and yet we didn’t want to be Dom and sub, either. Of course, many kinky people don’t feel drawn to power exchange at all and have all kinds of BDSM fun without it, but we had proven to ourselves again and again that some version of power dynamics contributed to the well-being of our relationship like nothing else. What to do?
We eventually decided to forgo rigid D/s roles completely and lean into what is apparently our essential switch natures. We separated out what each of us most wanted to take charge of, and designed a new dynamic uniquely tailored for us and our desires. Today, my husband is still the Daddy who has complete access to my body, giving him the ability to choose when and how we have sex, while I am the spoiled babygirl who gets my way in everything else. In other words, he is the Dominant in the bedroom, and I am the Dominant outside of it, only without the Dom trappings that once made me feel bitchy. Is this really power exchange? We feel it is — a very specific, yet very fluid, switchy power exchange that works for us and our particular psyches. We felt very clever in landing on this switch-powered solution, and have been very content with our dynamic since, enjoying a feeling of liberation and the opportunity to employ our creativity as we fine tune it along the way.
The Switchy Spectrum
Based on our experience, I’d guess that more than a few D/s couples find their way into some type of switchy power exchange. I’d also guess that many of the individuals within such dynamics would describe themselves as leaning in one direction or the other. I’d definitely describe myself as a submissive-leaning switch. But I will never again say there is no such thing as true switch. In fact, I’m much more likely say that even with all the kinksters who are permanently parked in one role or the other, we are all likely capable of moving along a switchy spectrum. As Leon F. Selzer Ph.D. writes in Psychology Today, human beings are wired for both Domination and submission. “All of us, along with several other mammal species, appear to possess subcortical circuits for sexual dominance as well as sexual submission,” says Selzer. Both, he adds, are connected to the pleasure centers in our brains. Yes, “most individuals prefer a single sexual stance; still, each role seems to offer its own gratifications. Going beyond this viewpoint, it’s useful to explore the paradoxical possibility that there can be submission within dominance — and dominance within submission.” He then explains the different ways in which dominance can transform into submission, and submission into dominance; for instance, in the way even the most dominant alpha male may become emotionally enslaved to a female through his own passion for her.
My husband and I seem to have discovered this shifting character of power dynamics through trial and error. Through it all, we have remained amazed at the resilience of D/s, and its ability to adapt to the needs of those who devote themselves to it. No doubt our dynamic will evolve again and again as we change along with the circumstances of our shared life. Not that I don’t sometimes look back in fondness at the simplicity of pure submission. But whereas we once felt quite a bit of stress about how to stay within our particular roles, how to do them “right,” accepting our switch nature has helped us relax into our D/s relationship, and be continually newly excited by our relationship, in a way we never have before. What a gift.
Other views of switching:
https://www.cosmopolitan.com/sex-love/a34740571/what-is-a-switch-bdsm/
