Two years ago, 38-year-old Sara found herself plunged into a world of profound silence as she suddenly went deaf. Losing her job and facing the end of a relationship, she grappled with relentless tinnitus that drove her to contemplate suicide. "Before I lost my hearing, I was stable," she shares. "I had my share of trauma, but I could manage. With the tinnitus, I felt like dying was the only option. It seemed eerily familiar, given that my mother died by suicide. I came dangerously close."

In an effort to distract herself from the emotional and physical torment, Sara turned to a dating app. It was there that she encountered a man with whom she delved into the world of BDSM, an experience she credits with restoring her mental well-being. BDSM, an acronym for bondage-discipline, dominance-submission, sadism-masochism, involves exploring scenarios, often in a sexual context, that feature a power imbalance, typically between a dominant individual (a dom) and a submissive individual (a sub).

The realm of BDSM is diverse, ranging from the use of blindfolds during intimate moments to consensual forms of physical intensity. Despite its broad spectrum, BDSM has long been clouded by misconceptions perpetuated by pornography and media representations, as well as the influence of works like Fifty Shades of Grey.

Historically, those interested in BDSM were deemed dangerous; figures like Sigmund Freud considered sadomasochism the "most significant of all perversions." However, recent research challenges these views, indicating that BDSM practitioners tend to exhibit good mental health. They are often less neurotic, more conscientious, less sensitive to rejection, and more open-minded. A 2013 study even found that individuals engaged in BDSM reported higher levels of happiness compared to the general population. This raises questions: Does BDSM attract those already well-adjusted, or can it genuinely enhance the lives of those grappling with mental health issues?

In 2008, a paper suggested that for many, engaging in BDSM could be viewed as a hobby, akin to knitting or Zumba. However, conversations with women on the kink scene reveal a deeper connection to BDSM, considering it a fundamental aspect of their identity and well-being.

Dr. Gloria Brame, a clinical sexologist and therapist, sees BDSM as more than just a hobby. "For me, BDSM is a legitimate sexual identity, like being gay. It isn't about the spanking and the whipping and the chains. I would be a kinky person without any of that. I'd still want to be in charge. It's who I am," she asserts.

Sara explains her perspective: "BDSM forces me to question my role as a disabled woman, to challenge my expectations and societal expectations. Vulnerability is not a weakness. I understand that now. I feel empowered through vulnerability."

While some may view seeking out pain for pleasure as counterintuitive, studies suggest parallels between the pain experienced in BDSM and the euphoria of a "runner's high." For those grappling with mental health issues, the immediate focus demanded by BDSM provides a welcome respite. Therapists and researchers alike note the potential for BDSM to be a tool for recovering from trauma, emphasizing the importance of negotiated power dynamics.

As the conversation concludes, the women express their feminist identities and argue that BDSM aligns beautifully with feminism. They assert that, as submissives, they set the limits, maintain control, and wield power. BDSM becomes a space where they can escape self-flagellation and regain control over their lives.

 

"I’m healing," Sara affirms. "I’m finding energy through BDSM and using that energy to replenish myself."