What is a Switch?
The quick and dirty definition of a Switch is someone in the BDSM scene who likes to be both Top and Bottom, or Dominant and Submissive. Chantilly says, "You have to consider that being a Switch is a very individual thing, and that there is not one finite definition. If you put Dominance on one end of the spectrum and submission on the other end, what happens to those who fall within the middle ranges of that scale? Being a switch is someone who is able to experience many facets of BDSM, from Dominance to submission, and from sadomasochism to masochism. They find that they can go from one to the other either without having to pause and reset themselves or depending upon the individual relationships they enjoy."

That sounds simple too if it were all a 50/50 thing, but the truth is that people come to the experience of switching from quite a variety of avenues. I myself am something of 85% Submissive and 15% Dominant, or as I often say mischievously: "I'm Dominant when it's convenient." Dominating is something of a fallback position more than a true vocation. In other words, it's been useful in several different situations mostly having to do with being able to better fulfill my partner's needs. For example, when I was with Moby, I was in love with him first, and so agreed to be dominant so that we could pursue a relationship. No one has ever called me a "submissive" Submissive though, because I'm such an assertive person. Cartia sounds like she is similar to me when she says, "I drove my Masters crazy with the ever questioning of why do you do this, why do you want this, explain this to me, educate me. That's what makes me a Switch. I question and don't just do! But if the explanation sounds reasonable I may just do it."

Another former partner, Griffin, was a switch himself, so we had a slightly different arrangement. Although he was the primary Dominant in our relationship, I dominated him on an as needed basis. This offered us the freedom to be monogamous while also fulfilling all our needs. Mikey agrees with me, although I think he takes a more pragmatic view, saying, "I don't list myself as either dom or sub because you just never know, and I don't like to limit any possibilities. I would hate to think that I missed out on getting to know someone because of a label I put on myself. I always tell people I meet in the scene that if you think I'm a sub, try to make me yours; and if you think I'm dom, then try to become mine."

On the other hand, I approach things differently when I am the primary Dominant in a relationship. I do not want my submissives to see me in a submissive state myself. I'm not sure I understand it entirely myself, but at some level I want his view of me to be unimpeded by having seen me in a submissive position. When my own Submissive looks at me, I want him to engage with me as a Mistress, not as a human being with needs and weaknesses. Within the confines of our D/s experience, I want the paradigm to be unconstrained. In contrast, Stevie takes a more laissez fair approach to who's going to do what to whom, saying, "For me its just the natural flow of spontaneity and serendipitous relationships that appear or disappear like flowers blooming then fading away."

Should Every Dominant Submit?
There is an ongoing and seemingly everlasting discussion about whether a Dominant should also experience what it's like to be a submissive. Many Dominants practically shout that they "don't have a submissive bone in their body." Mistress Sugar Kane takes a hard line on this however, saying: "I have had many an argument with many a 'I am Dominant only' on this subject. My response is: I will never play with you then. I'm sorry, but I truly feel you are not experienced enough to use any toy on me." I am willing to bet that Mistress Sugar Kane has gotten more than a few hard-line Dominants more than a bit riled up! Riled up or not, submitting is still a time-honored method to understand, even if it is limited to the most superficial and physical ways, what the Submissive is experiencing. Mistress Sugar Kane adds that, "Anyone that wants to be a Dominant must have first-hand knowledge of what submission and slavery is all about. In order to do that they must experience being a submissive or slave. If one has never felt subspace or how a toy feels when used, how can they ever be a good Dominant? They can dominate, but the intensity will be limited because they have never experienced it for themselves. This is particularly true regarding the need for aftercare."

What an Advantage!
Convenience notwithstanding I couldn't help but wonder if readers thought that switching was an advantage to their personal life. The main practical advantage was mentioned to me by my editor Julian Robinson who comments, "Guys, if you have an interest in playing some kinky games with your girlfriend or spouse, letting her do unto you first builds trust, and trust is what it's all about." He's right about that, not just on the practical level but on the emotional level which is the arena where the ability to switch really resonates. Kay adds, "I had first-hand experience of the place where my submissive was and surrendering to another. It gave me a truer impression of her feelings and a keener perception of the flow of the play." Similarly, Kissiah says that, "You also gain a more intimate knowledge of what the other side can go through emotionally. Seeing both sides of being punished doesn't make actually doing the punishment any easier, however."

But Maybe Sometimes a Challenge
I'm not sure if all submissive women have had this experience, but I've found that quite a number of submissive men hit on me trying to get me to dominate them, even if that makes no sense. If they know I'm a switch, they just hit all the harder. It's the ultimate in tacky behavior, but I suppose it's the disadvantage of swinging both ways. One thing I have found is that switching sometimes dilutes both my and my partner's experiences because we know we can always "get back at" the other person. This, by definition, makes the concept of controlling or being controlled less real. I realized that I don't want to be able to get my Dominant back for anything he did to me. I want him to be the one in control. Knowing that control will be mine in an hour, or a day, or a week changes the dynamic in a destructive way. In a related issue, Kay says that she feels some sense of shortcomings in "being strict enough or harsh enough" in relation to her partner once they had switched. This might be said to be the reverse of getting someone back for something.

Switches Getting Trashed
Many in the scene seem to feel it's acceptable to dismiss people who switch because they feel it's "indecisive" or "you just don't know what you want." This is a judgment that would never happen to Dominants or Submissives simply by virtue of their orientation. Julian Robinson says, "Switching is genderplay, but the genders aren't male and female; they're dominant and submissive." To the extent that our culture is uncomfortable with genderplay, this feeling might be leaching over the switching side of things as well. Mistress Sugar Kane feels that these judgmental souls are usually men, "They often have a difficult time sharing feelings about themselves with others, and a difficult time with any relationship because they have to be in control all the time." Unfortunately an approach like this is doomed to fail because all relationships, even D/s ones require compromise. Kissiah has also had trouble with negative attitudes from men, "I think sometimes male submissives are derogatory towards female switches, when the submissives are looking for dommes. I've been told many times that I wasn't submissive at all by male subs with a boner." If I were Kissiah I might counter with: " This is simply the small minded thinking of misogynistic minds. But each of us needs to do our part to validate our own choices and those of every Switch. So do what you can to explain things." I'm not excusing men, but I can see that there are far more pressures for men in our culture to never show weakness. An attitude like this cannot by definition be supportive of Switches, particularly male ones.

Switching at Public Events
One of the unique challenges to Switches is the problem of how to act in public, particularly at events which utilize formal protocol. In some forms of protocol, whether not someone is Dominant, Submissive, or Switch is fundamental to how you treat them as a person. Julian says, "Fixed, formal personas offer security and identity; if you play only one role, it's possible to pretend that it's not a role at all." The corollary to that would be that if you are a switch and you're doing it in public, this forces others to also acknowledge that all of these activities are indeed roles. Michael would take it a step further, saying "Top or bottom? I'll do either but they're things I do - not who I am."

Bott Walmer takes a more spiritual approach, saying, "Subjectively, switching is quite harmonious, balancing, even. It only becomes a problem when meeting unlike others." By this he means those of a limited viewpoint, not non-BDSMers necessarily. To a certain extent it is easier if people just choose one or the other in this kind of pubic situation and simply think of it as, when in Greece, do as the Greeks do. Kissiah takes this tack as well, saying, "Part of the fun of a dungeon party is actually being submissive and having protocol. I want to know who is in dom or sub mode and sometimes you just cannot tell." In contrast, I find that not knowing what someone's orientation is forces me to treat them as human beings first, and not go off on some tangent related to their orientation. I have a philosophical issue with insisting on knowing someone's orientation because it means that you are treating someone in a certain way based only on one aspect of their personality. Chantilly adds, "Being a Switch confuses people, it blurs the line between black and white, making a gray area that many people find difficult to operate within. Nothing gets my dander up like a Dom who will not recognize me as being there because he knows that I am a switch."

I don't hold with the kind of protocol that requires you to know such an intimate thing about someone's personal life. It seems outrageous and inappropriate to expect someone to share with a total stranger something as intimate as whether not they like to spank or be spanked. I would prefer not to know, and allow them to tell me whenever they are ready. I take the same approach when I sign on to groups like alt.com. There they have a checklist of every BDSM activity on the planet which I'm supposed to fill out for anyone on the planet to read. Unless I have some kind of exhibitionistic streak, how could it possibly be any stranger's business whether or not I like being caned? Rebecca Brook, Moderator of Leatherchurch and married to Julian Robinson, got it right when she said: "Certain people in the scene just can't deal with permeable boundaries, you know? I've taken a lot of grief too, for being a switch. Once I was practicing with a signal whip in a club while wearing a collar, and somebody walked up to me in evident agitation and said, 'Well -- what, what ARE you?' 'A human,' I said."

Switching is a Variation of Ambiguity
I was in the locker room of my workout class a few weeks ago when I overheard a friend telling the story of her daughter who had ended up dating a bisexual man. She was bemoaning the "fact" that this man was surely cheating on her daughter. I piped right in and said "just because someone is bisexual doesn't mean that they are promiscuous." In her mind, the two had somehow become merged, as if because you like both strawberry and raspberry ice cream you simply could not live without both every single day. Being bisexual is scary to these women because it doesn't fit into a nice definable box, which lumps it together with other in-between things like androgyny and switching. Julian puts it nicely when he says: "Switching in BDSM can be like androgyny or bisexuality, limbo in a binary culture determined to impose the almighty either/or." To get past this we will need to insist over and over that the world is not black or white, and that people who make judgments on us based solely on our switch nature are simply not people we will associate with. Michael adds that, "The rejection of switches goes beyond issues of ambiguity. A lot of people want some sort of defined role with which they can identify. It took years of spiritual training and discipline before I learned to free myself of attachments to roles, and my life has become, if not simpler, at least much richer as a result."

Who Dominates Tonight?
In the absence of pre-defined roles, it can be complex to figure out who will dominate in a particular scene. After all, if the Submissive initiates, it might be seen as a dominant act instead. Julian's approach is this: "During the hugging and kissing (how perverse!), one of us might make a submissive gesture, like placing their hands on their head. Not knowing in advance who'll be on top adds a delicious element of suspense." Mistress Sugar Kane adds that: "Switches might ask each other, do you feel subbie tonight or Dom tonight? If they can't agree, they might end up rolling dice or flipping a coin." I know Switches like my friend Doug who can switch "live" in scene, every few minutes or so. That's something I haven't gotten the hang of, and probably don't want to. I like to go deeply into my role and stay there. But while I was with Dominic, my first partner, we usually took turns each evening. He started out dominating me, then we'd take a break, then switch off. It's pretty easy for me to change my headspace given a short time to re-set my orientation. The great advantage of both being switches as we were, is that we could inspire each other, which might be seen as the opposite of getting each other "back." Julian puts it this way, "Hmm, I really liked how she mummified me in Saran Wrap. Next time, I'll try that on her but I'll leave a few strategic openings." Finally I add Bott Walmer's esoteric but on-target approach to switching: "Can there be a sub/dom space for the same moment of experience? I doubt it. Aggressive arousal and passive surrender need time to percolate through one's being and make themselves known as contrasts, existentially. So, switching is like low-frequency ultrasound - a kind of recidivist dirty-dancing binary."