Party invites and uncertainty
I've been invited to a rope party ā and I'm anxious. Notes on social overthinking, imposter syndrome, and asking 'am I rope-y enough?' before the door opens.
Iāve been invited to a party! I was never the type to get invited to social functions. Maybe a few times when I was small and it was customary to invite anyone you talked to at school to your birthday party. But even then, I struggled with showing up. I remember cowering in my momās car, scared to enter into an unknown social environment. Throughout my adolescence I berated myself for not being more social, having more friends, being more popular. I tried to make friends in high school and college, but the way things worked out I just didnāt have many people in my life.
In some ways I wasnāt ready for close personal friendships. Even now I wonder if Iām ready. My social skills and self-confidence have grown tremendously since meeting my Master, and Iāve become much more accepting of myself. Still, I have moments of regret and insecurity about my social life. Personally, I find I am much more successful in small social settings.
When I first entered the kink community I did so by inviting people out for coffee, just to pick their brains and learn about their lives. I wasnāt looking for sex or play, I was looking for information. I was curious about them. About this world. How all of this could be real and not a fanfiction trope that existed exclusively online or in books. People actually did this stuff in real life?
Yes, they did. And do.
I do.
I put a lot of pressure on myself to get things ārightā. Socially, I am ⦠anxious? is probably the right word. I seem to invent problems where there arenāt any. I get close to someone, share parts of myself, and pull away because Iām afraid Iāve gone too far. I feel too vulnerable. Too exposed. The relationship begins, and then falls apart while I disappear.
I guess thatās avoidance actually.
Itās a pattern for me. One that Iām trying to break. But it will always be a part of me.
Probably.
The invitation
All of this to say, Iāve been invited to a party! A rope party, and one that will be attended by people who I really admire and would like to get to know better. No pressure. No worries.
Hopefully.

Sometimes I get overwhelmed by social conventions, especially when the people I am with are particularly extroverted. Thatās not to say Iām socially inept ā on the contrary, I can hold a conversation, charm the pants off of a willing participant if I feel particularly confident ā but I have my moments of anxious overthinking. āShould I call them by their nickname? Everyone else does, but they havenāt given me explicit permission to do so. I donāt want to assume that we are closer than we are. Is it rude to use their nickname? Is it more rude not to?ā
Then thereās the other common occurrence of being talked around. Itās not quite the same as being talked over. I was one of those kids who was well behaved in school and used by teachers to attempt to gain control over more popular/social kids. They would assign me to seats directly in between more talkative kids only for them to talk around me like I was some sort of unreasonably tall centerpiece on a dining room table. This happened to me as recently as this spring. It's probably the quickest way to feel invisible. To want to be smaller. To want to disappear. To feel unwanted. Unloved. Unvalued.
And, after all of that, we get to the imposter syndrome of it all. Iāve only just started this journey, and my ropes are shitty and my knots keep coming undone and I start a tie only to give up out of frustration and Iām afraid to ask someone to tie with me. Iām not cool or knowledgeable or smooth or competent.
I was driving down a dark country highway recently, when I saw the body of a small animal lying by the side of the road. A fawn. Soft and small and completely innocent. Trying to explore this big new world only to be thrown aside by a fast moving machine it didnāt understand. It couldnāt understand. Thatās how I feel. Sometimes.
Am I kinky enough? Rope-y enough? Social enough? Good enough? I donāt know.
I guess we'll find out.
Cutting room floor:
- Social situations being overwhelming (party)
- Being talked around in school by other people. I was the quiet, well behaved kid who teachers put between the noisy popular kids to get them to shut up. They didnāt. They talked around me. I felt invisible. This happened to me as recently as this spring.
- Iām well behaved, Iām a rule follower.
- Iām not going to call someone by their nickname if I havenāt been given explicit permission first.
- Am I kinky enough? - imposter syndrome and proving yourself
- Being talked around
- Social anxiety
