I have no clue what to title this :/

On my last post there was a comment made that ended with a question. Since my response would have been a little on the long winded side, I'm making an individual post. It kind of requires a bit of back story to sound right. The comment was:

"...I find it really hard just talking about things, even just the word Daddy is sometimes difficult to say outloud (I'm still getting used to it) because of it's taboo nature. How did you guys "come out" about it?"

My first thought was of coming out to our family and friends. Which we have not done. Huge Squick Factor there. We don't know and aren't related to the most open-minded people. However, I do sometimes call him Daddy in front of them, along with a multitude of other nicknames I have for him. "Daddy" & "Momma/Mama" are pretty common names for people to call their S.O.'s where we live. My bio-dad and step-mom call each other Father and Momma. I have friends that call their boyfriends or husbands Big Daddy or Daddy or Papi. So, in that respect, it's a pretty neutral area.

My next thought was more centered on coming out to each other. The short version: We didn't. It just naturally evolved from snarky girl meeting snarky guy to snarky little girl being obsessively, enamored with snarky Daddy Dom.

The long version:

It was a natural flow from one aspect to another. Monster and I met one night in a yahoo chatroom for our state. So sit back and I will tell you the tale of how the Monster met his Nightmare and how between them, they found acceptance.

It was the fall of 2006 and I was...for lack of a better term, a quirky, smart-mouthed ball of confusion. I was responding to bots (yes I knew they wouldn't respond back. I was bored, sleepless, and a little bit moody). This guy private messaged me and my initial thought was, "oh boy! This is gonna be fun!" I had a guy with "Master in his screen name. So, in maniacal glee, I took a swig of my Mike's Hard Lemonade, rubbed my hands together, and started typing. Turns out the "Master" had some serious skills. He had me cracking up within five minutes.

What was supposed to be just an hour or two of goofing around online turned into close to seven hours of talking to the "Master." I grudgingly went to bed, after he had told me that I needed to try and get some sleep. To which I replied, "yes, Dad." He lol'd and promised to talk later. After that sleepless night, I had to have more of him. When my son was sleeping, I would log on to messenger and joke around with the "Master." It went on for a week. Then he asked me for my phone number. I admit, the thought did cross of just giving him the local Time & Temp number, but my fingers didn't listen to my mind. I like to think they were acting as my heart's minions at the time.

Seconds after I hit send my phone rang.

My heart got lodged somewhere in my throat.

I guess my saliva factory went on strike, because my mouth made the Sahara look like a rainforest.

my hand shook as I picked up my phone and answered with a froggy sounding. "heh...hehhl...hello?

Within moments he had me calm enough to talk. He would say stuff that would just make me roll my eyes and think of my bio-dad. There were numerous times when that was my response. "Yes, Dad." "Sure thing, Dad." "Whatever you say, Dad." Then one night as I lay in bed with my phone glued to my ear, he said, "I love you, little girl." My whispered reply? "I love you too, Daddy." No illicit feelings, no taboo, just what he felt like to me. Did I know about the DD/lg dynamic? Not in the slightest. I just knew that when we talked I felt protected, cherished, and nurtured. After that night, I never teased about the "Master" he was Daddy to me. Then we laughed when I told him, "see, told you I wouldn't ever call you Master."

Fast forward to winter of 2007. We had been together for a year and were living together. He had introduced me to D/s and I was curious, so we had been exploring. I still called him Daddy, but for different reasons. It had taken on a completely different meaning. Yes, he still acted like a father figure, but the change was in me. I trusted him, more than anyone else. He became my hero. If somethings broke, Daddy can fix it. I was kinda broke and he fixed me. The change in meaning was a slow process that I never even noticed. I never had that taboo feeling. My issues came from admitting/accepting I was a masochist. He questioned himself about liking being called Daddy and finding enjoyment in my ever growing littleness. But he always saw me, not my mask. We had our issues in other areas, but the one thing that helped was that he saw in me a little girl needing the love of a Daddy and in him I saw my refuge. I saw my Daddy. --Not my bio-dad or anything like that, but the Daddy of my heart.

I think the difference for us, maybe even many others, is that "Daddy" isn't taboo. We don't do incest play. Calling him warms my heart, but it doesn't warm my naughty bits. There is no sexual connotation with that word. It's my way of expressing my love for him. It makes my heart sigh and my head relaxes. It's my way of saying, I adore him, with every part of my being. That I value his opinion and guidance. That I trust him.

Our relationship has always weighed more on the DD/lg side than the D/s. We tried. We explored. We experimented. But we always came back to the DD/lg dynamic. Even before we knew there was a term for it. I am a whole lot more comfortable calling him Daddy than I would be Master.

In all that rambling, I guess my answer would be...he saw me. I saw him. And all the rest just fell into place the longer we were together.