Elsewhere I've previously related my experiences from my beginnings as a leatherboy through, not just my coming out of the kennel, but as a pup overall. I've captured how intense and rewarding (and occasionally saddening) the journey has been, and I look forward to what has yet to unfold. However, there is one part of that journey I haven't said much about. That's the transition I made from leatherboy to Sir. It's a transition that happened even as I grew as a pup, and continues to the present where I'm both.
Probably one of the most awkward personal questions I ever get asked is "Do I address you as Sir or do I call you Pup?" One thing that eases some of that awkwardness is that I don't expect anyone other than my boys to address me as Sir. Nevertheless, even though the reasons for asking are sincere and well-intended, it can still feel a little awkward.
Probably one of the most awkward personal questions I ever get asked is "Do I address you as Sir or do I call you Pup?" One thing that eases some of that awkwardness is that I don't expect anyone other than my boys to address me as Sir. Nevertheless, even though the reasons for asking are sincere and well-intended, it can still feel a little awkward.
There are a lot of feelings and struggles on this that I've never really shared. I've never been ashamed of any part of my identity as a leatherman or pup. But, there have been times when I've thought it would have been easier to be one or the other, either just a submissive pup or a Sir with boys under collar. I'm proud to be a pup, and I'm proud to be Sir to my boys. Yet, there have been times when I feel caught between the two.
As we so often are reminded, we live in a community with labels and identifiers. Being human, we often try to peg people into these boxes. Not necessarily out of malice or judgmentalism, but rather simply on the basis of interacting with unknowns via the barest minimum definitions. For most, it's a simple, innocent matter of comfort in how to approach people. None of us want to mistakenly approach someone as X, when they may be A or B. In the leather and kink community, where people take labels onto themselves, it takes on the added dimension, more often than not, of simply trying to be respectful.
However, over time, some of these boxes and definitions have, for reasons I still don't entirely fathom, become seen as contradictory to one another or seen as not fitting in at all. To be seen as a pup, which many still equate with being submissive, as well as a Sir runs contrary to many.
It hasn't been an easy transition; at times it's been downright confusing to me. Confusing because, even as an acknowledged Sir (and, by that, I mean acknowledged by others), I'm still Pup Tripp. Regardless of the role I have in my leather family, my inner pup and my need to be a pup haven't changed. Time and time again, people will approach me differently, depending on how I'm seen at the moment.
For example, at CLAW this past year, on Friday I was out wearing both my cover and my show tail with my kilt. On Saturday, I was in a singlet and kneepads and leather Chuck Taylors. On both days, I had my two boys proudly in tow; I was perfectly comfortable in my space on both days. Yet I was keenly aware of how differently some people approached me on Friday as compared to Saturday. Now, I appreciate and understand that much of it is born out of respect, and I'm perfectly fine with it. In fact, I look on it as a positive lesson for my own growth. I say all of this only because I noticed.
However, there was something more, also. I was aware of some of the questioning looks thrown my way while wearing both the cover and the tail, even caught a mumble of reproach from one as I passed in the vendor area. Still, I carried myself with pride and dignity, comfortable in my own skin, knowing I'm both Pup Tripp and Sir Tripp, all in one package.
Getting to that point of self-comfort, though, wasn't easy. For the longest time, after accepting I was transitioning into a more dominant role, I still felt there were times I was supposed to choose between one or the other. Something as simple as just going to the bar could put me there. Do I leave the pup gear at home and go out in my cover, or do I put on the pup hood and other gear and go out as a pup? I was both even then, but finding the balance was elusive.
And what about my boys? Did they need me to carry myself more in the role of Sir, or were they fine if I was with them more as a pup? Was I somehow failing them or their expectations if I chose one over the other? They seem silly questions, but they're ones that I spent a lot of time wrestling with. Even as I embraced both parts of who I am, I struggled with bringing them together more often than I let on.
Fortunately, between my boys and all the pups and handlers I met during my title year, I was able to better come to grips with that internal struggle. The full package that is me was accepted in full, not piecemeal. I learned that it didn't matter that the two roles may be seen by others as contradictory. I was reassured that I'm not in some way thumbing my nose at long-held traditions and beliefs far older than my time in the community. I learned again that what mattered was that I be honest to myself and to let that honesty shine with pride and integrity. I was taught again that there is a time to let one take the lead over the other, yet both are equally important parts of who I am. Once again I was reminded just how fortunate I am to have in my life the people that are there and to be part of this community.
However, over time, some of these boxes and definitions have, for reasons I still don't entirely fathom, become seen as contradictory to one another or seen as not fitting in at all. To be seen as a pup, which many still equate with being submissive, as well as a Sir runs contrary to many.
It hasn't been an easy transition; at times it's been downright confusing to me. Confusing because, even as an acknowledged Sir (and, by that, I mean acknowledged by others), I'm still Pup Tripp. Regardless of the role I have in my leather family, my inner pup and my need to be a pup haven't changed. Time and time again, people will approach me differently, depending on how I'm seen at the moment.
For example, at CLAW this past year, on Friday I was out wearing both my cover and my show tail with my kilt. On Saturday, I was in a singlet and kneepads and leather Chuck Taylors. On both days, I had my two boys proudly in tow; I was perfectly comfortable in my space on both days. Yet I was keenly aware of how differently some people approached me on Friday as compared to Saturday. Now, I appreciate and understand that much of it is born out of respect, and I'm perfectly fine with it. In fact, I look on it as a positive lesson for my own growth. I say all of this only because I noticed.
However, there was something more, also. I was aware of some of the questioning looks thrown my way while wearing both the cover and the tail, even caught a mumble of reproach from one as I passed in the vendor area. Still, I carried myself with pride and dignity, comfortable in my own skin, knowing I'm both Pup Tripp and Sir Tripp, all in one package.
Getting to that point of self-comfort, though, wasn't easy. For the longest time, after accepting I was transitioning into a more dominant role, I still felt there were times I was supposed to choose between one or the other. Something as simple as just going to the bar could put me there. Do I leave the pup gear at home and go out in my cover, or do I put on the pup hood and other gear and go out as a pup? I was both even then, but finding the balance was elusive.
And what about my boys? Did they need me to carry myself more in the role of Sir, or were they fine if I was with them more as a pup? Was I somehow failing them or their expectations if I chose one over the other? They seem silly questions, but they're ones that I spent a lot of time wrestling with. Even as I embraced both parts of who I am, I struggled with bringing them together more often than I let on.
Fortunately, between my boys and all the pups and handlers I met during my title year, I was able to better come to grips with that internal struggle. The full package that is me was accepted in full, not piecemeal. I learned that it didn't matter that the two roles may be seen by others as contradictory. I was reassured that I'm not in some way thumbing my nose at long-held traditions and beliefs far older than my time in the community. I learned again that what mattered was that I be honest to myself and to let that honesty shine with pride and integrity. I was taught again that there is a time to let one take the lead over the other, yet both are equally important parts of who I am. Once again I was reminded just how fortunate I am to have in my life the people that are there and to be part of this community.
So, rather than try to jump between two boxes that do nothing but limit everything, I find myself wanting to toss those boxes aside and be both Pup and Sir at once. Yes, there will still be those who think it's somehow incorrect or in someway counter to certain beliefs. There will still be the looks when I wear the tail and my cover, or let my boy put me on the leash. Far more important is it to be honest to myself and about who and what I am than to hide it for fear of being judged.
So, the next part of the journey starts, and I look forward to it. Will I still on occasion feel caught between the two? Probably. I'm human, and change and growth don't happen overnight. And are the lessons ended? Not by a long shot, and I wouldn't have it any other way.
No comments:
Post a Comment