Off the cuff

Of course, off-the-cuff philosophy tends to be the most ephemeral kind, and I'm already forgetting the brilliant internal dialogue I had while waiting for the light to change at the intersection of South Lamar and Ben White Boulevard as I drove home from Central Market this morning, but here goes:

I've been conversing a fair amount with a certain man lately, and it strikes me that he is a perfect example of the kind of person people mean [revision: okay, the kind of person I mean] when they talk about someone who is "naturally dominant." Something in the way he carries himself makes me want to earn his approval. It's hard for me to pin down what this quality is, exactly, but I recognize the characteristic from my relationships and encounters with other naturally dominant men. (I'll stop using scare quotes around "naturally dominant," but you can assume they are a constant. The phrase means so many things to so many people that I want to make clear this is my interpretation only.) Other naturally dominant men in my life that spring to mind: my father (I know, I know, a shocking admission, isn't it? This is my shocked face.); the man from New York; another Internet friend of mine (also in New York) who has been something of a muse for my recent sexual exploits and who is an affable but terse correspondent; my high school debate partner . . . there are others, I'm sure. I can't think of any women who spur the same reaction in me.

What do these men have in common? They tend to praise or compliment rarely. They tend to be guarded. They are extremely intelligent. They have a foundation of confidence in their own perceptions that underlies everything they say and do, even when they are questioning or disappointed in themselves. They don't demand respect because they don't have to -- they expect it. This is not to say that every confident or aggressive man appeals to me. One of my best friends dated a man for years who was handsome, arrogant, and did or said what he pleased without regard for the effects his actions had on others. In his case, however, the behavior sprang from a sort of social tone deafness. I never thought of him as an authority figure -- I thought of him as a jerk.

The naturally dominant men I've met in my adulthood have always attracted me. (I realize that I'm being somewhat circular here -- of course they attract me. That's part of being naturally dominant.) The effect they have on me is both emotional and erotic. The erotic part is easy enough to understand. The idea of sexual submission is a huge turn-on to me -- being restrained, ceding control, not knowing what will happen . . . come on. Nommy. Bring it. But the emotional part is more unsettling and sometimes embarrassing for me to deal with.

A recent example: I was talking via IM to the first man I mentioned in this post, and at one point I said something kind of smart-alecky and insensitive, to which he responded with a mildly annoyed "Whoa. Geez."

I fell apart. I mean I fell apart. I was at work, and when I realized that what I had intended as a joke had, in fact, displeased him, a wave of mortification swept over me, followed by a plunge into utter, tearful shame. I apologized repeatedly, he said it was no big deal, I tried to explain that it was a big deal, it was a very big deal, that my behavior was inexcusable, and then I signed off and had a serious honest-to-god weeping fit at my desk. Mind you, this is a man I hardly know. I don't have any sort of romantic relationship with him, either -- I like him as a friend, and I think he likes me back the same way. But he has that quality I respond to, that natural authority. From these men, praise isn't just a pleasant experience, it's ecstasy. It puts me over the moon. Disapprobation, on the other hand, isn't just a sting to the ego, it's a piercing stab to the psyche.

Does this mean I am naturally submissive, or does it simply mean that I'm responsive to a particular personality type? Is there a difference? I think there is -- I mean, it seems to me that there are people who want to please everyone, not just dominant personalities, and who want to be of service in any situation, not just ones that involve a power exchange. That isn't me. For the most part, I do what I do because the desire springs from within, and I'm not hesitant to refuse people when need be. My behavior with naturally dominant men is the exception to the rule.

But here's an interesting fact -- I've never fallen in love with one of these men. My boyfriends, my ex-husband, and the man I am currently in love with have been more passive, more open about themselves, and unstinting with their approval of me as well as the tokens of love that accompany courtship. In some cases they pursued me, in others I pursued them. There has always been a dynamic balance of power in my serious, long-term relationships. It shifts back and forth. At times I've taken advantage of and manipulated that balance of power, just as (I'm certain) my partners have. Needless to say, I felt much safer with them and more assured. My sense of self-worth was never totally dependent on them, but it received a healthy boost from the knowledge that they were crazy about me. Paradoxically, this knowledge eventually had a way of undercutting the relationship. I'm accomplished enough at the game of self-sabotage to twist anything into a criticism. When told I was beautiful or brilliant, I could not accept it as anything but a delusion born of love.

That's not to say I couldn't or wouldn't fall in love with a dominant personality. Certainly I'm erotically attracted to them, but only recently have I begun to act upon those attractions. Perhaps I simply haven't had time to fall in love with a naturally dominant person. But I have to admit that when I try to imagine what such a relationship would be like, what I see worries me. I don't know whether I have the temperament for it, and if I somehow fell short of expectations, I don't know whether I could handle it.