As a child, I always imagined that the lion in the circus was a creature the lion tamer had to conquer.
But what if the oldest circus secret is that the lion never followed the whip as much as it followed the relationship it had with the lion tamer?
Listening for consistency.
For intention.
For steadiness.
As I cautiously step into this realm and role of Dominatrix, I find myself asking a question I hadn't expected.
Am I worthy of another person's trust?
The lion is not asking,
"Can you control me?"
It is asking,
"Can I trust you with my strength? My fear? My tenderness?"
Can I trust you with the parts of myself that have spent a lifetime learning to defend themselves?
What an honour.
What a sacred way of relating to another human being.
I become nervous as I prepare to walk into the ring beneath the bright lights of the Big Top.
Not because I fear the lion.
But because I want to become the kind of woman before whom the lion chooses to sit.
I'm not here to earn the lion's obedience.
I'm here to earn the lion's trust.