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InObsequium -> RE: What does a collar actually mean to you. (10/7/2007 1:11:18 AM)
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With all due respect, I find the phrasing of the initial question a little confusing.
What does a collar actually mean to you?
-A- collar? As in the concept, the idea of 'a collar' as used in r/t bdsm relationships? -Anyone's- collar? Or -my- collar?
I'll answer the last one, as it is the one I actually know best.
First of all, I have several. Five so far, and counting. Not that I collect collars, or have a harem of d/ms *squeezing eyes shut in horror and shaking head* , it is just that Hawkins likes adorning my neck and that therefore I get to wear a collar that suits his mood, or the occasion, or my suit of clothes. It is practical too. When going to a multi-day music festival in a muddy tent field, there is not much sense in wearing a 18 kt gold ring round your neck. Or a string of pink pearls. A super shiny solid stainless steel number is inconventient as it weighs over a pound, so the little leather dog collar he bought me over 12 years ago now suits the occasion much better and does the job just as well. Which job does it do though?
The wedding ring analogy has been made already. It is a symbol of the specific bond between that man and this woman, both as a reminder to them and others, that they belong together in a relationship based on the idea that he rulez and she serves, and that they are really bloody serious about it. Of course it is, at the same time, a reminder of all the minutiae involved in what the above describes in general terms. His careful gouvernment, my obedience, our rituals and customs, our warm affectionate gregariousness, our humour and language, our SM, our love and devotion and hard work put in over long years...
To me it also serves as a talisman. A reminder that I am not alone, not unprotected, not as vulnerable as some situations may make one feel. My collar, whichever one I might be wearing at the time, reminds me that I am loved, and valued, and trusted. It reminds me of Hawkins and what I mean to him and what he means to me when I am nervous and on my way to a difficult meeting, or an intimnidating concert, or have to do some other hard thing, and it steadies me. It calms me and focusses me. It reminds me that, whatever I might be about to do, it is not all that important. He is, and to him, I am. At the end of the day, that is all that really matters.
In Obsequium,
Kate
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