So I did a thing last night, something I want to do again too…
After weeks of wondering whether I was moving too quickly, whether I’d panic, or whether I’d find some excuse to cancel, I actually opened the door and let myself try something completely new.
What surprised me most was how little I overthought things in the lead-up. That’s very unlike me. I’d already sent my address and contact details earlier in the week, and once I’d done that I simply carried on. No endless internal debates. No dramatic last-minute crisis. Just a quiet acceptance that whatever happened, I’d deal with it.
And honestly? I’m really glad I did.
I spent the evening with a genuinely lovely guy who immediately put me at ease. There was no pressure, no expectations, and no rush. Everything was explained carefully, limits were respected, and we spent as much time chatting and getting to know one another as we did exploring.
Eventually, I found myself trying something I’d been curious about for a while. I tried a sleepsack for the first time and discovered that being unable to move was surprisingly relaxing. What I hadn’t expected was that I’d enjoy trying a leather straitjacket too.
Me, Having Fun!!
Most people associate straitjackets with punishment or horror films, but historically they were actually introduced as a more humane alternative to chains and restraints in mental health institutions. Their original purpose wasn’t punishment but helping distressed or overwhelmed people calm themselves without injury. While history hasn’t always treated people kindly, I found it interesting that something with that background felt so peaceful and reassuring.
What surprised me even more was that I didn’t feel disappointed that things weren’t especially sexual. Quite the opposite. I came away feeling calm, safe and strangely peaceful. Looking back, I think trust and connection mattered far more to me than anything else.
The nicest part was discovering that this wasn’t just a one-off experience. We’re still talking, we’ve already agreed we’d like to meet again, and there are plenty of things left to explore together. I’m beginning to suspect that the journey of discovering what I’m into is only just beginning.
Interestingly, I think I’ve discovered something about myself already. While I enjoyed being the one being restrained, I found myself equally fascinated by the ritual involved in carefully putting someone else into restraints. The trust involved, the communication, and the care required all appeal to me far more than I expected.
Perhaps the biggest surprise of all was my reaction afterwards.
Instead of feeling anxious or embarrassed, I felt proud.
- Proud that I trusted someone.
- Proud that I listened to curiosity rather than fear.
- Proud that I didn’t let overthinking win.
- And proud that Operation Restoration continues to take me to places I genuinely never expected.
As someone carrying trauma, grief and a tendency to overthink absolutely everything, experiences like this matter more than they probably should.
For years I’ve associated vulnerability with danger. Trust has often felt risky. Letting people get close, physically or emotionally, has rarely come naturally. So finding myself in a situation where I felt genuinely safe, cared for and able to relax felt surprisingly healing.
That doesn’t mean everything is magically fixed. Far from it.
A man thoughtfully gazes over a lake while holding a journal at sunset
What I need to do now is learn from experiences like this and internalise them. I need to remember that my anxious predictions are not always right. I need to stay on top of my mental health and continue taking things slowly. Operation Restoration was never about becoming somebody else. It’s about giving myself permission to rediscover parts of me that have been buried for a very long time.
I also need to be careful not to push too hard. Excitement can be just as dangerous as fear if I suddenly decide I need to do everything at once. Recovery still happens one step at a time.
One thing that continues to surprise me is that I’m still chatting to several guys online. Somehow, for reasons I still don’t entirely understand, nearly ten men currently seem to think I’m attractive. I maintain that they probably all need glasses, but I won’t pretend it isn’t flattering.
Perhaps the biggest lesson I’m learning is that maybe the voice in my head isn’t always the most reliable judge of how other people see me.
A few weeks ago I was wondering whether I’d ever feel desire, confidence or excitement again.
Last night, I discovered that sometimes life still has a few surprises left. I can’t wait to see what I discover next.
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