_{Truth is stranger than fiction,
but it is because Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities;
Truth isn't.
Mark Twain}

 

<sub>Please be respectful of people's anonymity as this type of content can be dangerous to share for those who choose to speak out.

Index
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^Unwritten

Preface

_{On how to fight}
 

Submit

 
"Submit!" He laughs, stopping mid attack with his hands falling at his sides.

"You're not submitting. You look like you're gonna attack me." he says, mimicking my angry expression. "Try again."

The instructor's eyes are twinkling as he turns to walk away. I'm at a private Krav Maga lesson, it's lesson three and I can't get this part of the training right. Even though I've been asked to practice this at home in the mirror. And I have. Twice.

I totally get off on submitting in the bedroom, by the way. As long as that's where it stays and I get to have my turn on top once in a while. For a while anyway. But that's another part of this story and we'll get there because it's interesting, I think.

Interesting and relevant both.

But today, at this pretty expensive private Krav Maga lesson that I can't really afford anyway, I am failing miserably at submitting to anything at all. Perhaps it's because I don't really want to be doing this.

You may be thinking that's the same with the bedroom playground thing but it isn't at all. This is a common misconception about this particular kink and, again, we'll get there because it's an interesting one for sure. And also kinda sexy.

Go on. Admit it.

It's surprisingly common, you know.

So not really into street fighting, combat training or martial arts when I have to take a hit. Although I'm almost in awe of folks who are into this kinda thing.

I'm only here because I had three incidents, at the place I'm renting, and one of them got pretty close to getting inside the house in the middle of the early wee hours. It was pretty scary and I haven't slept properly, or even a whole night through, since then. Not so fun when you live alone in a big house solo parenting two kids. I've been up and down all night, every night, peeping through closed curtains and shining flashlights into shadowy corners of the garden every time I hear a noise. Or think I hear a noise. For some time now.

I've also stopped walking my dog and going out at night, although I haven't yet made the connection that I have PTSD. I'll only understand what was happening to me some years later. Right now, I've signed myself up for Krav Maga lessons because I saw a video and I'm so done with feeling afraid that I want to learn this shit as quickly as possible. That's all I know right now. And all the instructor knows about me as well.

"I want to be able to kill someone with my bare hands." I answered, when the instructor asked why I wanted to sign up.

He laughed out loud but I was so done by this stage that I actually meant it. My delivery is punchy though, so I make things seem funny as well. It's what has kept me going in many ways, for many years, in a country that isn't easy to navigate as a woman. Especially a kinda small, kinda slim, kinda fluffy looking gal. Easy targets and all that.

I guess I was that for many years as well. But that was an internal thing. These days I walk the streets of my country with an attitude and confidence that folks don't mess with quite so much. They can see it. The experience. The fearlessness. Now. But it took the worst few years of my life to get me to the point where I became fearless enough to stop being a victim. And, hence, a target I suppose.

They give you this advice for most training for self defense courses, I think. To walk with confidence. Head up, shoulders back. To keep a decent pace. To not "act" like a victim. Scared, weak and insecure. Bullies don't bully those who stand up to them or may fight back. It's probably the same thinking and dynamic. But, as it turns out, this one you can't "fake 'til you make it."

It has, like so many other things, to be authentic for our animal instincts to sense.

To know.

Anyhoo... not much submitting going on at the private lesson today.

The training is:

to first submit (convincingly) if you're being attacked or find an intruder in your home.

Raise your hands as though you're puttin' em up and look scared as hell. Ask them what they want, plead with them not to hurt you and tell them you won't fight them. And all that.

And while you're doing this to distract them and slow them down, and to make them feel confident that they are in charge...

to use the time to look around you to see what possible exit you have (first choice). Or what you can use as a weapon. Or both. You're buying time to get your game on basically. Fighting smart. So you do this. You submit and give in to gain the upper hand.

Unless they have a weapon and are coming for you. Then you gotta go all systems go, strike-first-strike-hard-no-mercy and all that.

Like that gal in the video up there.

But I can't submit yet. It's just not in my nature. Not outside the bedroom in any facet of my existence. At all.

And I'll give up after this lesson because I have PTSD and don't know it yet. The instructor is insistent on attacking me off guard so that I'm trained to react quickly to a surprise attack. As these things usually play out.

I give each surprise attack my full go, managing to get a dummy knife out of his hand and then a dummy gun as well, but in all honesty the whole thing drains me mentally and emotionally. It's just too hard to return.

I wish I had, by the way.

It'll take me another ten odd years to learn how to fight well. I mean how to fight smart! And I'll learn the hard way. By losing. A lot!

Losing so much that, by the time I learn to submit, I'll have lost most of my constructed life, all of my financial resources and a good deal of my physical health. I'll have to submit by default, at one stage, before I manage to fully grasp this lesson. By default because I just won't be able to go on physically eventually.

But, also, this will teach me why learning to submit was such an important part of training from that Krav Maga instructor.

I should have submitted far, far earlier than I did.

But even after that and almost five years later, I'll reach another time in my life when I realise that I can't win this battle again.

But this time I'll know it's time to submit so I can, maybe, win the war.

I'll submit

 
In 2023 I hit a dead end again even though I've given it my all.

I know I can't win this one with things as they are and with the lack of resources and physical health I have right now.

So I willingly submit this time.

I submit until what I have to share becomes safer to be shared.

And able to be heard.

I submit while I rebuild some resources.

I submit while I get strong and healthy again.

I wait until I am ready this time.

Dropping in to #ThreeTunesTuesday by @ablaze because art and music keeps a tired soul alive.
And connects us all.
And that, ultimately, is what this is all about.
So keep your sense of humour and try to stay awake, please.
 

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_{Bonus track because Billy}

This is a true story
Written for education purposes and to, possibly, save lives.
Names have been changed to protect the innocent.
And the not so innocent.

Donations and support to bring this to you are greatly appreciated.
It's not an easy one to write.

Please be respectful of people's anonymity as this type of content can be dangerous to share for those who choose to speak out.

Please feel free to hit the downvote button on this one if the community would prefer me to take this elsewhere. I completely understand. That's why we have downvotes and it'll save us all time.

And thank you.

_{Shibari BDSM Art Image original image source}

_{All other content, photographs and artwork that are not directly sourced are my own. Images created and/or edited with GIMP.}