When the topic rolls around to the BDSM community today, it sometimes seems as though one is being asked to choose: Old Guard or New Guard, tradition or progress, structure or liberty. But the fact is that I don’t actually belong to either camp. Rather, I fall somewhere in between, and to be honest, I am more than content with that. I have a great appreciation for what the Old Guard did. The focus on honour, discipline, and trust that was earned meant a lot to me even today. There is a sort of power in a system where individuals were taught, where titles and roles were not mere words tossed around but promises made and fulfilled every day. The rituals, the protocol, the way dynamics were given gravitas, it all appears to have a sense of weight and substance that I find lacking in the more casual environs of today.

In the meantime, I cannot help but be a guest in that world. The Old Guard came from a different time, a time of secrecy, of survival, and of a very particular cultural worldview. Access was not readily available. Diversity was not embraced with the enthusiasm that it is met with today. Most of my identity, and that of the people whom I love, might not have been fully accepted in such a culture. So, while I salute the groundwork that they established, I have no desire to live in a culture that appears bound by its legacy or resistant to change.
And so I am looking towards the New Guard. I adore the openness and diversity of the scene today. The emphasis on consent, negotiated, discussed, and reaffirmed, makes me happy. I adore that individuals are being urged to forge their own path rather than being shoved into a rigid mould. The creativity, the inclusiveness, and the ongoing conversations regarding growth and ethics also resonate deeply with me.

They are signs that BDSM is not just surviving; it’s thriving.

But if I am being honest, sometimes the New Guard can feel a bit too unmoored for my taste. In the enthusiasm for being friendly and open, it somehow feels like the gravitas of commitment gets lost along the way. The protocol becomes weekend roleplay and not something people believe in. Titles are tossed around without the time, the effort, and the mentorship that used to give them meaning. And though I believe every individual now wants a label, I believe too that depth and intentionality need not be lost because we’re doing things differently now.

Here I am, between two worlds. I miss the branches and the roots. I want the discipline that creates trust and the flexibility that allows us to grow. I believe protocols are needed, but they need to be built around the individuals in the dynamic, not just inherited without thought. I believe experience is valuable, but so is openness to new perspectives. I believe in establishing trust over time, and in the idea of community being welcoming, not a bunker. I do not have to fully identify with either side to know where I am. My BDSM is alive, half tradition, half innovation, and passionate. It is founded on a firm base of respect, honour, education, and exploration. Its strength lies in the legacy of the past and the potential of the present.

I am not a Master. I do not want the Old Guard implications of the title or that which many honorifics imply. I am simply Herra, but I do believe in the respect not just for my role as a Dom but also for those that submit to me. So maybe I don’t fit in a box. Maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe sitting in the middle, honouring the past and honouring the future, is where I am meant to be.