I bought a strap on with my abusive ex. Now I use it to heal my sexual trauma

Written by Rosie Esther Solomon

Photo of Violet Chachki captured by Albert Sanchez and Pedro Zalba

“Bend Over Boyfriend’? What are you going to use that for, Brad*?!” said my ex boyfriend’s housemate, of the packaged box which we had forgotten to hide in his room. I remember quipping back that I thought the name itself was pretty self-explanatory, and laughing it off.

I was both excited and terrified to use a strap on for the first time. I had had fantasies, which I hadn’t really allowed myself to entertain, which involved me being in charge when we went to bed. I wanted to be the one on top, the one moving and pleasuring and teasing my partner. I wasn’t sure if I was ready for pegging, but that was what Brad wanted to do, and I was tentatively on board. It was supposed to be a sign of a change in our sexual partnership, something which would encourage me to step out of my comfort zone and take charge. It was a symbol of female empowerment, the passing of a phallus from one partner to the other.

It didn’t feel that way when he pressured me into using it on him, threatening to leave me when I said I didn’t feel comfortable. I had been the victim of a rape by a previous partner a few years before; sex was still something I felt uncomfortable with, and up until then, Brad had been understanding. But now, it seemed his patience had run out. He insinuated that I was able to perform this sort of dominance on other people, and told me I made him feel “excluded” from my sexuality - having seen it displayed when I danced in shows and in clubs, the one space I have never suffered from issues of confidence. At the time, I didn’t recognise the manipulation. I was infatuated with this man who had decided that he wanted to be with me, grateful for his affection and just wanted to make a happy relationship last after my experience being raped and dumped by another man I thought I was in love with.

Being with Brad was like swimming into a rip tide. It felt calm and safe at the beginning of our relationship; it felt like I had finally found someone who would listen to and understand me when I needed to speak about the way I was feeling. But, pretty soon, I was in too deep and couldn’t leave when the warning signs began to get even louder than they were before. He would emotionally dump on me endlessly, never once taking responsibility for his past mistakes or seeking to improve himself. I would console him with patience and without judgement, thinking it was just the right and kind thing to do. If I ever had a bad day, I would be dealt with a hand of ‘tough love’ and never any kindness, told to pull myself together and that I was being too sensitive. The worst part was that I didn’t even want to leave. I had poured all my self worth into having a boyfriend who loved me, and I felt like I would be nothing without him. I swam in this current for more than half a year before I was able to get out.

Several years on, and the anxiety I had surrounding sexual encounters seems like it belonged to someone else. It’s no coincidence that, as soon as I found myself in a nurturing and healthy relationship, I was able to begin to explore my dominant side without feeling anxious or judged. I kept the strap on after I broke up with Brad, and I’m really happy to say that after her troubled beginnings, Gladys (a suitable name for a huge purple plastic dick) has enjoyed many ventures out of my sex toy bag in order to pleasure both me and the lucky person I’m using her with.

I’ve discovered that I am much more dominant than I ever thought I was - something I used to describe as a bucket list item to try one day has become my default form, and it’s something I gain confidence and energy from, rather than find draining or scary. Using Gladys in this way helps me to reclaim the domination which I felt was forced on me during an abusive relationship. I dominate on my own terms, the way it should be. I waited until I was ready, until I felt supported by those sharing this intimate space with me. The confidence came from the safe space; then I nurtured the confidence to continue to seek out emotional safety and healing in sexual partners.

There are many vast realms of kink I still want to traverse. I am at the beginning of my journey as a domme, but it feels so right to be here, finally getting the kind of sexual satisfaction I never thought I would after the abuse and manipulation I suffered at the hands of various men. I guess it’s a little cliche now to say that I was able to use kink as a tool for healing. But it’s true that I couldn’t have worked through my anxieties, my fears and my confidence issues in a normal, vanilla sexual partnership. Looking back on my past sexual encounters, it seems to me that each time I felt the most anxious or in my own head, were the times that I was defaulting to being in the submissive role. It just doesn’t suit me; it doesn’t come naturally to me.

What does come naturally to me is being in charge. The heady rush when I realise that I have all the power is something which I have learnt is the absolute sexual energy I need in order to enjoy myself. I have learnt many lessons over the years, whilst developing my sexual personality and energy. Sex should be fun, and not anxiety-provoking. Submissiveness doesn’t have to be a default if you possess a vagina. And pegging, when done with the right person, is really, really fun.

*name has been changed

Rosie Esther Solomon is a music PR/journalist by day, queer pole-dancing feminist vigilante by night. In their spare time you can find them reading, writing, dancing, and arguing with misogynists on the internet either on twitter or on Instagram