So I've been watching this thread for a while and like most who watch for a while and then share, I realize my time has come to share.

I always thought my want for submission was wrong. That it was some horrible manifestation of my ever-present role of the abused. I know it's a part of me and maybe that is part of it, but it's something I'm coming to terms to dealing with.

I spent my life being verbally, emotionally, and physically abused by my mother. I thought that everyone got hit for being stupid. That bruises were normal. Doesn't everyone hide under the covers, quaking in fear? Apparently not. Like many, the first time the word "abuse" came up in therapy I was appalled. That's not me! That's not how it was! I'm much stronger now and realize that just because I was abused does not make my mom the monster many would paint her to be. She was older when she had me. Older and blind, literally. It does not negate what she did. It wasn't right. But she is human. She made big mistakes. But I have started the process of forgiving her.

Self-abuse and depression are both issues I've been dealing with since the tender age of 12,if not earlier. eleven years later and i'm finally starting to get a handle on it. two years, 8 months self injury free!

and the worst part of it... i was in two abusive relationships. I was raped in both. Several times. I did really well at forgetting and remembering only the good times. Both relationships being with another woman, I was under the belief that it wasn't rape. how could another woman really rape you? Well they can. There are many forms of violation and penetration and in both cases it happened. more than once. I didn't actually piece together the abuse/rape by these two woman until I met my current partner/Domme. She has her own abuse history and her telling me about what she remembers triggered nightmares and memories long buried.

I was wondering if anyone else shares abuse histories with their Domme and if so, how do you deal with it? BDSM sex is sometimes great, sometimes triggers us both. We work hard to communicate and to let each other know when things are going south, but sometimes one or the other feels stupid and keeps going anyway. We spend hours after dealing with the repercussions, trying to work through it. It's sex therapy in the most literal sense.