You know how you're seen: capable, compassionate, courageous, clever. People look up to you. Your friends and family are as proud of you as they are to have you in their life. You're nobody's second choice, they say. You deserve the best, they say. And however you feel about the ways they assess you, you're honest with yourself: they might be right.

Which is why, if they could see your vision for the relationship you'll have one day, it would be easy for them to think that it's abuse. That it diminishes you. That it defiles you. That it makes you small, victimized, weak. That it makes you pitiable, and that it makes anyone who would treat you that way contemptible.

None of that is true. They might be right about how great you are, but they're dead wrong about what it means that he humbles you, habitually, systemically, holistically. Blessedly. You're honest with yourself.

Because it goes beyond him making the decisions, beyond the expectations of your obedience, beyond way you bow at his feet, thankful for his dominance and grateful that you get to live a life of service to him.

The way he talks to you. He honors your intellect, praises your wit and values your input. At the same time, he outpaces you, urges you to keep up, teaches you how to behave and think and feel so that you can be better, be your best self. He doesn't dwell on your need for improvement, but you're keenly aware that he helps you because he recognizes that you need his help. You're ashamed that you aren't better for him already.

And he reminds you of it. He doesn't rub your nose in anything, but he's kind enough not to sugarcoat things, either. When you make mistakes, he acknowledges your inadequacy and shows you how to improve. Comparing yourself to him embarrasses you. You aren't used to coming up short beside your partner. You aren't used to feeling – being – inferior.

You love it.

The way he treats you. He's more honest with you than you ever were on your own. Without patronizing, without mocking, he shows you the truth of yourself: you're great, but you can be better for him. That it's okay to be ashamed of what you are because you can see what you will be and you know how far you have to go. You have no doubt he'll guide you and nurture you through that self-improvement, just as you're certain that the persistent humiliation of needing him to lead you makes the happy anguish cut that much deeper.

And him. You try so hard to do well for him and miss the mark almost every time, and he's patient and loving and strict and ready to help you through it. He makes a sweet comment and fills you with shame. He pats your ass encouragingly or puts his hand on the small of your back to steer you through a crowd or lets his fingers touch your throat, and you blush at the way your panties stick to you. He keeps you focused on him, on his love for you, on the fact that he deserves so, so much, and that you get to spend your life trying to give it to him. The fact that he treats you the way he does means not only that he can, but that he wants to. He keeps choosing you, every day, every minute.

Likewise, you smile, not in spite of the shame, but because of it. You choose him, too. Every second. Every heartbeat. You welcome his treatment, crave his humiliation, because of the significance they hold for you both. They're a signal of your constant buy-in to the dynamic he's built with you, a symbol of your devotion and affection that are mirrored and overwhelmed by his own. He defiles you, debases you, degrades you, and it all means the same thing:

He loves you. He sees you. He makes you so, so happy.

Honestly, you wouldn't have it any other way.

Tl;dr: Insightful man seeks smart, self-aware woman for realistic life-long TPE relationship. Please inquire via PM for so, so many more details.