It’s not that I don’t want to submit, it’s that submitting is so different from how I have to conduct my life that it takes effort to turn off that HBIC part of me so that I can relish letting go.

I’ve worked hard to hold onto my independence, and here I was giving it up — to someone more dominant and more masculine. My feminist ancestors didn’t burn their bras for this. Except what if they did?

Being in little space doesn’t feel like being a child again. It feels more freeing than my childhood ever was, and like something completely different.