Respect Beyond Celebration

Women deserve more than a day.
I have believed this long before I ever paid attention to Women’s Day itself.

When Women’s Day comes around each year, I don’t feel celebration. I feel unease. Not because honouring women is wrong, but because needing a specific date to remember respect says something uncomfortable about how easily it disappears the rest of the time.

In my life, respect is not seasonal. It is not symbolic. It is not something I perform publicly and forget privately. The women who have entered my world, lovers, submissives, partners, companions, have shaped how I see strength, vulnerability, and responsibility. That experience has made it impossible for me to accept gestures that replace behaviour.

I have watched how easily respect is spoken and how rarely it is lived.

I have seen care used as a mask for control.
I have seen protection used as an excuse to limit expression.
I have seen silence praised as maturity while women swallowed discomfort to keep the peace.

None of this announces itself as cruelty. That is what makes it dangerous. It arrives quietly, wrapped in tradition, expectation, or concern. When these patterns are questioned, they are often defended as normal, as if normality itself were a moral shield.

This is why a single day of celebration rings hollow to me. It allows people to feel aligned with respect without changing how they behave when no one is applauding. It creates a moment of comfort instead of a demand for consistency.

What women need is not recognition. It is reliability.

Real respect reveals itself in small, uncelebrated moments. In how disagreement is handled without intimidation. In how boundaries are met without punishment. In whether a woman is listened to when her voice complicates convenience. These things cannot be condensed into a date.

I do not believe women should have to prove their worth through endurance. I do not believe dignity is something earned by compliance or sacrifice. Value is not conditional. It is inherent. Difference does not diminish worth. It never has.

This belief did not come from theory. It came from proximity.

Living a BDSM lifestyle stripped away many of the illusions I once saw tolerated elsewhere. In BDSM, there is nowhere to hide for long. Pretence collapses quickly. Power exposes intention. Desire demands honesty. If responsibility is missing, harm follows fast. I explored this foundation of balance and responsibility in my reflections on the symbolism behind power itself .

That environment taught me something I now carry everywhere. Respect cannot be implied. It must be carried deliberately. This same understanding of restraint and responsibility runs through my writing on holding submission with care rather than entitlement.

In my BDSM world, a woman’s submission is never assumed. It is offered. It is held. It is protected. Authority is not taken because one can take it. It is accepted because one has proven capable of carrying it. Anything less is not Domination. It is negligence.

This clarity has made it impossible for me to accept surface level respect elsewhere. Once you have lived in a space where power and care are inseparable, symbolic gestures feel thin. You start noticing how often respect is spoken about, and how rarely it is practised when restraint would cost something.

Women deserve environments where their choices are honoured without justification. Where their boundaries are not negotiated down. Where their presence is not tolerated but welcomed. None of this requires celebration. It requires discipline.

This is the uncomfortable truth I have come to accept. What many people hope to achieve through annual recognition, some ways of life demand every single day. Respect is not a slogan. It is not a performance. It is not optional.

In my world, and in my BDSM world, women deserve more than a day.
They deserve steadiness.
They deserve restraint.
They deserve respect that does not disappear when the calendar moves on.

Every day.