Warning: Things get a little rant-y ahead.

We talk so much about safety and trust and respect and really knowing your partner before engaging in BDSM and all of that good, wholly important, and necessary stuff.

So remember all of that moving forward please.

I went to the circus today for (I believe) the first time in my life.

The last act came out; the big grand finale that everybody had been anticipating the whole show. It was a big spherical steel cage that had been tucked into the corner and finally wheeled out into the ring. The children were all a-chatter with speculation and that’s when you hear the motor roll in. As a girl who loves being on the back of my guy’s bike I looked forward to this stunt show.

In the ball goes the guy on a dirt bike and he drove around and around, doing tricks, stunning the audience. But hey, it’s a circus. Let’s up the ante.

In comes the second cage and all of a sudden you realize how small that ball really is. You hold your breath and hope for their successful choreography.

But then, for the finale of the finale, out walks a beautiful woman in sparkly gear and after pausing to let her in, this girl stands in the middle of this tiny sphere and lets two guys maneuver around her.

Well shit. All I can think of is now THAT is trust.

We require a lot of that here, sure. People tying us up, putting sharp things on our soft skin, lighting us on fire, taking our very breath away. Trust is paramount.

But why then, of all things, does it seem like the last piece of us we are willing to offer up trust in is our heart?

It’s like, sure, you can beat me black and blue, but you cannot touch the pieces of my soul. Make me cry in pain, beg for you to stop, lift me up so high that my endorphin and adrenaline bring me to an altered state of consciousness, but dammit. Don’t you dare ask for my heart in your hands.

I know giving up the control is scary sometimes. We build tough shells and hard exteriors, stitched over again and again, creating a deep scar tissue that makes it that much more difficult each and every time we feel foolish enough to give it away. But god, it is so worth it.

It may seem to some that it is effortless for me now, living in TPE long enough that I have to concentrate to remember what life was like “before.” But I assure you, that is not the case. Giving up control of your other-than-sex-life, including your heart, is an effort that has to continuously be made and the name of that game is, like with fire and knives and bondage, trust.

Sometimes, once you’ve done all of the smart, safe things, you need to put on a brave smile, walk into the sphere, and trust in that partner you picked to not run you down.

You’ll find that it is the same endorphin rush, the same adrenaline high, the same terrifying leap of faith as that woman felt in that cage; as we feel tied to a cross.

It is the ultimate showing of trust.

Is it time for you to swallow the fear, say “I trust you,” and walk into that sphere? Is this your turn to let go of that control? If so, remember: smile all the while as your heart begins to hammer.

It will be one hell of a ride.