You’re welcome. But I owe you my gratitude as well.
I really had a nice time, from start to finish. Though I was fumbling and generally under-confident until I was working in my engineering-problem familiar-territory, Thank You for not losing patience or confidence in me.
Thank You for showing me that you trust me. And Thank You for your beautiful smile, and all the giggles, and the quiet praises. Thank You especially for referring to it as “hanging” even though “rope suspension” would suffice. That put a smile on my face that stayed with me all the way home.
You might not believe it, but the person for whom I worked for two years to build trust with, never trusted me as much as you did tonight. They never let go in the ropes, even when they were off the ground. They always wanted to be in charge, to command my every movement, and expected me to be able to read their mind.
To those of you reading, whether you were there or not:
Tonight, for the first time in a while, I took out my fid, rig plate, spinner, carabiners, and two pieces of 8-mm hemp rope, and to my surprise, used it! It was a static (as opposed to dynamic) rope suspension that was anything but motionless. I have never tried to tie a suspension using a static strategy before–in which all the suspension points are hoisted together–but tonight was a success, and in that sense, a milestone for my skill set. My rope bottom spun around and swung back and forth while I basked in their obvious joy. It is unlike any rope suspension I have done before, in which my bottoms have seemed either indifferent or uncomfortable (both of which kill all the joy in it for me).
It wasn’t as clean as my other rope suspensions, which have been dynamic (meaning each point was hoisted up and tied off one at a time, so that if I really wanted to, I could untie or cut one, and the person who was tied up would still be off the floor). I have been working on this skill for about a year, and started with a very messy one, but it worked and it motivated me to keep trying.
In that year, I’ve been working at it as though it were an engineering problem–but because I have no engineering background, and have only taken (and barely passed) a single physics course in the past ten years, it was bound to take me a while (pun intended). I like a challenge, and I’ve seen a lot of beautiful rope suspensions. I’ve even been put in a few myself, and thought “There has to be a way to make this last longer–to make it more comfortable.”
My rope suspensions aren’t beautiful–they are not art. They are gritty and ghetto, strangely efficient, and managing only what purpose they absolutely need to accomplish. The person in them, though, is a creative spirit. My rope bottoms are the inspiration for doing it at all. They are the unique force that leads me to decide where to put the ropes, to keep them the most comfortable, so that they can enjoy the experience–so that I can enjoy their experience.
The trust involved is something I cannot stress enough. Nothing undermined my confidence as much as the time my bottom clearly just did not trust the ropes I put on them, or the hands I was holding them in. I told them we could just not do a suspension, and instead, they took charge of what I was doing (they were still bottoming) and forged on. It didn’t last, and it was the least fulfilling experience I think I’ve had since I stopped doing professional domination. The equipment I’ve chosen will not let down, even as I’m pulling with my entire body weight on someone of equal or greater weight. Every strand of rope I’ve chosen is strong enough to hold up at least one body, but I double or quadruple it up in every direction just to be sure. And that brings me back to my equipment–I triple up the doubles and quadruples of rope in every direction. I can only conclude that it’s me that particular person didn’t trust. That they didn’t want to be in my hands in that moment. And that hurt my feelings.
So I’m really grateful for the very recent experience, of putting someone in one of my least glamourous suspension bondages, hoisting them up, and seeing the smile on their face as they told me they want to spin around in it. I wasn’t even expecting to have the opportunity, but something just seemed right for them tonight, and it put me at peace with myself to give them what they had no problems asking for. They didn’t ask for it in code, either. Just straight up, like “I wouldn’t mind being hung from that tonight.” I have been aching to hear that for as long as I’ve been playing with rope–we’re talking more than ten years as I typed that.