A Thinking Man’s Döminätrix

Illustration of a bird flying.

The year 2023 will wrap up a decade since I “picked up my whips” and became a Professional Döminätrix. It wasn’t a logical choice, nor a natural one — for someone who has been internationally educated, well-bred, well-mannered and reasonably cultured and who has already enjoyed the good life on three different continents it seldom is. Nor did I expect to make any meaningful amounts of money — I did not think that it was feasible to do so.

“It simply isn’t a thing that people like us do!” — was a heartfelt comment of deep concern shared by a very well-meaning close friend. — “Think of your reputation. You are condemning yourself to a double life! And what about your future?! Employment?!? What will you do after you are bored of playing dress-up?!” Indeed, joining the Dark Side would have been far less scandalous!

And so I thought of my options, long and hard. It is funny how people presume that one becomes a Dominatrix out of sheer necessity, to put food on the table or pay long overdue bills. And yet I was facing two most likely options: 

Option 1 was buying a sweet little country house somewhere, in Spain, or England, or even France without a mortgage, getting a “decent” job that paid reasonably well, and lead a perfectly normal, compliant, settled, “decent” life of foreign holidays twice a year, trips to a family summer house on Costa Brava for some sea, and to a winter house in the Pyrenees for some skiing, Sunday brunches, and occupying myself with unnecessary and uninteresting local trivia while growing prize-winning zinnias, having given up on all the big dreams and daring adventures early enough in life. As “people like us” often do, not to upset some status quo balance.

Option 2 contained no such clarity. It was a blank canvas. It required, however, growing a proverbial pair, and stepping into the abyss of the unknown. It required acquiring a completely new skillset, knowledge base, and discovering a million of things you never knew existed. It was the literal “you can be anything you want to be when you grow up” at work — although I do not think my choice was exactly what is meant by this phrase. It was that truth AND dare option. And in the world full of princesses, I dared to become Batman!

What ensued was an incredible decade-long whirlwind of adventures, discoveries, travels, acquaintances that took me all over the world. The off-the-charts things I got to do and experience, the amazing people I’ve got to meet and befriend, the things I learnt and understood about myself and the world would have hever happened in the cushy zinnia-growing world. 

I have learnt the difference between income and salary, assets and liabilities. I have stopped shopping for package tours and jewellery and started shopping for low tax jurisdictions and ETFs. I now have a life of which the decade-ago-me has never dared to dream. 

And I still went for an occasional family Sunday brunch, and to the summer house for some sea, and to the winter house for some hiking, and instead of travelling twice a year, I did so twice a month. Now I even live in different countries, at the same time! That, though, did make growing zinnias problematic… But other than horticultural flop, what did my choice of the road less travelled by “people like us” cost me? Nothing! Nothing but fear itself. And I owe so much of myself and my life to that brave young me who dared to be different! 

So how did everything come about? What were my most memorable adventures? My highs and ows? What are the things I learnt? How did it change me, and my views on life? How it continues to shape me? This is what this blog will be about! 

As a post scriptum, I would like to dedicate this blog to my two delightful little…ex-husbands. None of this would have been possible without you! For better or worse, eh? :)))

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