You can’t really talk about feminism without acknowledging power – feminism is all about power structures. Where power has been held historically, the way it’s been used to maintain dominance of certain groups over others, and – looking to the future – feminism is about empowering those who have previously been exploited to make a more equal society.

[clickToTweet tweet=”feminism is about empowering those who have previously been exploited to make a more equal society” quote=”feminism is about empowering those who have previously been exploited to make a more equal society”]

Exciting, right? Ideally it’s a situation in which we want as many people to take part as possible: working together to create a better future, with equality for all. And when I say ‘as many people as possible’, that includes submissives.

Yep, you heard me: even submissives – those who get off on handing power to a dominant partner for sexual kicks – can be feminists. I know this because I am one.

Submission as sexual liberation

I like it when guys beat me. Consensually, of course: if some passing stranger tried to smack my arse they’d be in the police station faster than you can wolf-whistle. And it’s consent that’s key here.

Submission is, for me, a very freeing thing. Giving a portion of my power, or agency, to a partner who I trust, on a temporary basis, reinforces the fact that the power is mine in the first place. When I hand a guy a flogger and ask him to whip me like I’ve been bad, I’m not regressing to a terrible past and hankering for him to keep that power forever: I’m indulging a kink that helps me get my rocks off.

[clickToTweet tweet=”Submission is, for me, a very freeing thing” quote=”Submission is, for me, a very freeing thing”]

Five years ago, when I first started sex blogging, if you’d asked me about feminism and submission I’d have given a fairly simplistic answer. I’d have told you that submitting – whether it’s for purely physical pain or something a little more atmospheric like a consensual non-consent scene – gave me a sexual thrill, and the ‘feminist’ part came simply from the fact that it was my own free choice. It wouldn’t much do to be feminist in all other aspects of my life, yet decide that where my kinks were concerned my poor submissive female brain couldn’t possibly know any better.

So on that level, saying I can’t be submissive and feminist would be saying that only men are able to make tough choices about their sexual agency. Women can consent to being loved and adored but we cannot consent to being beaten or humiliated. And I don’t know about you, but a choice where half the options are off the table doesn’t sound like much of a choice to me.

But that’s only part of the answer. A fuller picture, I think, needs to acknowledge the ways in which we use sexual play to push boundaries and test taboos.

Submission as exorcising taboos

Let’s be honest: sometimes our fantasies are gross. Scratch that - I don’t want to judge you: sometimes my fantasies are gross. Things happen in my head which, if they happened in real life, would horrify and appal me. I fantasise about aggressive brutality, extreme physical limits, and – yes – the pushing (or ignoring) of those limits. Just so we’re 100% clear on this: this isn’t a thought experiment - those things make my cunt wet.

[clickToTweet tweet=”Let’s be honest: sometimes our fantasies are gross.” quote=”Let’s be honest: sometimes our fantasies are gross.”]

Many of these things – these brutal, aggressive, very-definitely-not-feminist things – are so tightly woven into my sexual fantasies that it would be impossible to strip them all out. If I wanted to go on a feminist purge of my sex dreams, I’d barely know where to start. So much of what I desire requires the suspension of my real-world beliefs.

Except it doesn’t, of course: my real-world beliefs remain.

I still know that if someone actually hurt me without my consent they’d get the aforementioned march-to-the-police-station treatment. If my fantasies were played out in porn, painted as ‘real’ and presented as documentary, again I’d be calling the cops. But our heads give us freedom that the real world doesn’t.

Our fantasies give us the room to explore things we may never talk about or think about in real life. To the point: these fantasies in my head are sexy because I abhor them in real life. If there were no ethical issue with inflicting pain then the fantasy wouldn’t hold my attention: it’s hot because of my conflicting beliefs, not despite them.

[clickToTweet tweet=”it’s hot because of my conflicting beliefs, not despite them.” quote=”it’s hot because of my conflicting beliefs, not despite them.”]

Is this feminism?

Is this feminist? Not specifically. I’m not going to tell you that your wank is a feminist act – apart from anything else I wouldn’t want to encourage you to try this style of protest. It’ll frighten the police outside 10 Downing Street.

But as a woman, fantasising about sex – and being honest about the things which get me off – really does feel like a political act. For a long time women have been seen as targets of sex rather than active participants in it. So much of our discourse around sex and relationships sees women as passive, or at best ambivalent about sex itself. Masturbation, until very recently, was seen as utterly deviant in both men and women, but far more so in women because why on Earth would we enjoy the sexual act?

[clickToTweet tweet=”For a long time women have been seen as targets of sex rather than active participants in it” quote=”For a long time women have been seen as targets of sex rather than active participants in it”]

If you’re sceptical about this, consider: do we regularly ask submissive men to justify their submission politically? Do we say ‘hey, Dave, you know how you like to get beaten up for boners? Do you reckon that is compatible with your belief that men shouldn’t be paid less than women in the workplace, or that you shouldn’t have to trim your bollock hair?’

Of course not. Male sexuality is seen as a given: men are allowed to fantasise without their fantasies being inspected with a fine toothcomb and subsequently found wanting.

Submission as power exchange

Let’s get back to power. At the beginning of this piece I talked about feminism as power exchange: empowering women who may previously have been held back or down. Well, submission is obviously a power exchange as well.

In exploring the ways I’m happy to hand over power in the bedroom, I learn more about power in real life. I’m more aware of the control I have over my body, and the reasons and situations in which I do and don’t want to hand it over. I know that my fantasies – and my desires – are as relevant as those of the man who’s standing over me. I know that they are valid.

[clickToTweet tweet=”I know that my fantasies – and my desires – are as relevant as those of the man who’s standing over me” quote=”I know that my fantasies – and my desires – are as relevant as those of the man who’s standing over me”]

If a guy were to suggest to me – as a couple have done in the past – that my submission is incompatible, the implication there is a deeply uncomfortable one. Not only that my desires aren’t valid but that I need him to protect me from them.

Not only does that run counter to every feminist belief in my body, it also – more importantly – kills my ladyboner stone dead. I’m asking you to beat six shades of fuck into me and you’re bleating about my protection? Sayonara, Sunshine.

Feminism and submission aren’t one and the same thing, but they aren’t incompatible either. They’re both about power exchange, consent, and autonomy over your own body: knowing what you want, and asking for it.

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