Sex, truth and video tape

You have pictures of me. You visually chronicle our journey. You are the keeper of memories. You record our history.

Before they existed, when we spoke of theoretical pictures, they were on my camera for my use, to help me remember, under my control. Now they are real. They belong to you. Nearly one hundred of them. In several of them I am identifiable. In several I am partially clothed. I have control over none of them.

I have NEVER allowed this. Ever. In the days before digital, my then husband took a picture of me on our honeymoon, asleep, naked and spent, without my knowledge. When I picked up the pictures from the developer and saw what he had done I destroyed it immediately. Possessing this type of picture is power. I have not wanted anyone to have this much power over me. You are my One. I am Yours for life. I trust you implicitly. It still makes me extremely uncomfortable that you hold these images of me.

Now you are contemplating video. Video. Moving, breathing, in living color, real-time action, video. With audio. Of me. In god knows what positions, doing god knows what. I cannot even bear to imagine what sounds might accompany these images. You have said that not only do you want to record me but that you would have me watch this recording.

Every fiber of my being is screaming to add video to my hard limits. To not let this abhorrent thing happen. Here’s the problem with that: my hard limits are for acts morally repugnant, potentially life threatening, or things I simply cannot handle without lasting emotional trauma. I do not add to the list in willy-nilly fashion. Each item on it was added with forethought and is there for at least one very good reason. I will not make it a compendium of things I wish to avoid. That would be unethical and a violation of the unspoken rules of our dynamic.

Everything about video is horrifying. It is beyond imagining. It is the stuff of nightmares. I don’t want anything to do with it. It will follow me home. It will invade my thoughts. I will obsess about its existence. I will lose sleep over it, repeatedly.

Allowing it is an act of spirit flaying vulnerability and life altering trust. It has the potential to shatter me. I cannot believe I have a person in my life for whom I will willingly endure this thing.


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