Me & Money (Part one)

keiko mulligan sweet sinful sensual dommeI’ve been thinking lately about my relationship with money and why I decided to add financial domination to my list of fetish games.

First I have to clarify my domination style. It’s mostly soft, sensual and gracious. I like to laugh and play. Slowly I might begin to taunt. If I am provoked I will respond however I feel like responding at the moment. I like people who pay attention. Assumption and presumption are not sexy to me. I do find both those attitudes curious though because I wonder why would anyone want to miss out on the joy of discovering something new. I can think of a few reasons but that’s for another time.

So for me domination is more about my ability to hold space in a variety of circumstances. I’m very adaptable and when I hold space for and with someone my gift is that I share my skills with them. If they are paying attention and receptive. Otherwise I see no point. I have rich life experience and it gets richer with continued engagement. I learn from everything. Beginner’s mind is a powerful thing. I like power. It allows for incredibly creativity because judgment and other limiting ideas are not a part of it. Creativity is power too. Controlling others is not nearly as powerful to me as empowering them to find their greatness. My domination is about creating a space for someone to find their greatness with me.

Over two years ago I stumbled onto financial domination online. I have mostly been in the entrepreneurial space. I’ve had a few jobs but I learn quickly and I like to grow quickly and I find I outgrow them. I want to do this and do that and I get excited and have visions for change. I’m a great problem solver and creative strategist so I think of all the ways to make things people say they want to happen happen. Turns out that change of dynamic is too much for most people. Suddenly there are a bunch of reasons why not. My enthusiasm is dampened. Or as has been said in my Japanese American family, “Honto ni wet buranketu ja nai!” (Really wet blanket, no?)

On top of that, truth comes to the surface, agendas become highlighted and discomfort sets in. Then because I’m a feeler (hello sensation play 😉 ) I feel bad because I caused this discomfort. Hey if you’re not ready for change, you’re not ready for me and I’m not gonna make you. Go at your own pace. I’ve tried everything that is in my code of intend no harm and I’m at a place where conventional employment is not what I want to do and there are a lot of reasons why I’m told I should want to do it. It’s nice to know people think of me. If the right opportunity comes along I’m open. It needs to feel very right.

So my story with money is that I grew up in a hippie liberal environment. The motto was that we lived by faith. We passed out literature, got donations, got creative, asked people to help, gave them the gift of Heaven in their heart. I grew up doing this while living in Thailand so I have joked that I’ve been in sales since I was 5, getting Buddhists to ask Jesus into their heart. “Why only have Buddha when you can have Jesus too?” How about the goddess? The more the merrier. I do like full disclosure so when pressed I would tell them to just say the prayer and give me the donation because it will make me happy if nothing else and I’m doing a good thing. They would then laugh and go with it. Occasionally not but then they’d usually give something else. Once we were taught to dust our feet off at the door like Jesus said if people didn’t help. Speaking of foot fetishes. I didn’t like that. Too much anger. Lol.

I was good at making pitches and fundraising as it became later known in my circles. By then we had fun products like music videos teaching good morals and cassettes of the same that businesses and individuals would sponsor for a school. I was a woman of many talents so I was not on the field that much. I didn’t get a ‘territory’ like the regular field workers. But I soon got pledgers who I was very frank with and they liked that so they pledged a few hundred bucks a month to my cause and I would go to visit with them to pick it up. I had such interesting pledgers. We would laugh and talk about cabbages and kings. I was 19.

I didn’t mind staying at home to help out either. I wanted to have access to computers so I could write more and if I was home I could possibly sneak away after finishing duties early and get some computer time. I felt it would take me time to learn technology and it would be useful in my future enterprises. (More on those visions later.) This was hard to do because computers were not for everyone to use. I was often spoken with over the years for my stubbornness in trying to get into ‘the office’ as the computer room was called.

Of course the other reason I was not readily welcome was there were also top secret things going on in the computer room that required code names and encrypted files with confidential reports on other group members etc.

Every day a schedule was put up on the bulletin board and that’s how you knew what you were meant to do for the day and with who. Usually the schedule was not put up until after daily devotions. I understood that this way we could focus on the new publications sent from our founder and his wife without fussing about the day.

I always had questions about the space between what was being written for us to follow and what was going on at the ‘grass roots’. I kept wondering how can they tell us how to do something that they have not done? We supported them by now. It was this interesting blend of monarchy and revolutionary group and family and sex group. More about that later.

So back to money. I rarely had any but my necessities were handled. When I was 12 I lived at a school house and no longer with my parents so there would be no little goodies. I also would no longer babysit my siblings. I felt bad that I had complained about that before. But it was time to learn how to be a revolutionary queen I thought. That’s what we were being groomed to be as little revolutionaries and princes and princesses. Seemed ridiculous but that can be fun.

As I stood there at the bulletin board in the house that I had lived with my parents in before, I explored the feeling in my chest. I missed them and missed my siblings and was a little bit terrified. I felt my parents had been my protectors in an otherwise chaotic group of rebels-at home-missionaries-to-the-world. I believed the group had finally grown out of their sixties-free-love-gone-overboard mentality and it was unlikely I would be creeped out. I thought I would stay with my parents till I was at least sixteen but oh well. I supposed my queendom was ahead of schedule.

The past two years I took care of one of my younger siblings most days from infant to two years old and studied during their naps and after dinner. I was my own boss. Now I would be doing whatever odd jobs I was assigned, with whoever. I didn’t realize I would feel so lost. I tried to look at it as freedom from the babysitting that felt draining to my twelve year old self. But that didn’t work. Then I told myself that the more I learned and embraced variety the more compassionate, kind and pragmatic queen I would be. I cracked a smile to myself. I was now queen under cover.

I stood there in my light blue and white striped tee shirt and plaid skirt, my waist length wild hair wavy and unbrushed. My rebellion had begun earlier that morning. Who cares if my clothes match or my hair is brushed. We’ll see. A woman came around the corner and saw me standing there. (Adult women were aunties.)

‘What are you doing?’

‘Just looking at the schedule, auntie.’

(And preparing for my queendom!)

To be continued….

Also coming very soon…

This in ebook with pictures

My podcast version


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s