To confess to friends

This weekend I told my friends that I think I’m kinky and that I’m working on figuring it out. The bad reactions a part of me had feared were … nonexistent. In hindsight I realize that I doubted my friends more than they deserved, a lot more. Or, it wasn’t doubt as much as nervousness and maybe a bit of fear. But they didn’t deserve it, either way.

I trusted my friends enough to tell them and I knew that no matter what they thought of me, they would never tell anyone else what I had told them about myself. But I was nervous, oh, so very, very nervous. I’m good at being nervous. I believe that some people will always be nervous, even when they are absolutely sure that it will be alright. Like before a test at school, or an exam. I don’t know many people who are never nervous before things like that, and those who are most nervous are quite often the ones that does it best at test and exams.

After I told my friends, there weren’t even a bit of disapproval. Not a single bit. There were some questions, of course, but that I had expected. One of my friends asked if I was a submissive. I told her that I most likely would start exploring the sadistic side of me, without actually ruling out anything else. The word sadist made her stare a bit before she started asking a lot of questions. She could not understand how anyone could like hurting someone else, let alone that I could like it. That’s okay, since I don’t really get it either. She and the others accepted that I didn’t know how or why I’m like this; can think and feel like this. I don’t know the answer; any more than I know answer to why I’m a lesbian. I just am.

Another of my friends was very positive to the concept. She was very much informed about kink and D/s relationships, so much so that I now wonder if she has read about it herself or if she has another kinky friend she has talked to. I don’t think you get that much correct information just from the media.

Now I don’t have to wonder what my friends will think of me and I don’t have to worry about forgetting that they don’t know about me and my new hobby. They know, and in their eyes I’m no different now than I was before I told them. It took less than 24 hours before I heard the first joke about it. For me, that’s a sign that everything is alright.

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