I'm a dominatrix who loves to take control in the bedroom. BDSM helped me heal my sexual trauma and made me more confident.

• After years of vanilla sex, I decided to explore BDSM and become a dominatrix.
• BDSM helped me take back control in the bedroom and reinforce consent.

Post-divorce, I wanted to hit the reset button on everything, including my sex life. At 31, I realized I hadn't yet experienced the type of sex worthy of being included in the pages of my future memoir.

After much introspection, I discovered that sexual shame and misogyny were in the way of my tapping into my sexual prowess. Foresight didn't tell me that using whips, wax, and ropes and becoming a domme would kick-start my journey to sexual liberation and healing.

My life before BDSM was anything but kinky

When I reflect on my 20s, I have flashbacks to lots of passive sex. I was a missionary princess, and once in a blue moon I'd drive the boat. Many times I wasn't an active participant. I did just enough to satisfy my partner but wasn't confident enough to ask for what I needed or to surrender to my sexual urges.

I realized two things contributed to this. One was my internalized misogyny and beliefs about how women should present themselves sexually. The second was my sexual trauma.

Most of my sexual partners were misogynistic men who saw any sign of sexual liberation as promiscuity. As a 20-something, I so desperately wanted to be "wifey" material, so the fear of being judged kept me from coloring outside the lines. Growing up staunchly Christian and in a household that wasn't sex-positive cemented my beliefs that sex had to be done in conventional ways and that sexual pleasure primarily belonged to men.

Additionally, having been sexually abused and having traumatic sexual experiences made me feel sexual shame and made it difficult to advocate for myself during sex.

Curiosity and a desire for healing led me to explore BDSM

During my quest to rebuild my life and reinvent myself, I became more curious about exploring what was holding me back sexually. That curiosity and perhaps fate made me type "sexual trauma and BDSM" into Google. Lo and behold, a study popped up that identified a nexus between the two. An article in the journal Sexual and Relationship Therapy suggested that people who experienced sexual and childhood abuse could use kink to help them heal and cope. Though I'd once thought BDSM was only for sadists, the study opened me up to the idea.

A few months later, an opportunity arose for me to enter the world of BDSM. It all started when a mystery man with no picture on a dating app messaged me, writing, "You look like a goddess." My mind traveled back to the study I'd read a few months earlier and to my desire to explore BDSM. This seemed like a divine opportunity to act on my curiosity.

I had a hunch that being a domme could help me be more confident, assertive, and comfortable when asking for what I needed. So I decided that he was right and that I would become a goddess.

Becoming a domme helped me heal my sexual trauma and reclaim my power

The transition from having submissive vanilla sex to becoming a dominant goddess who was in charge in the bedroom was fascinating. Being a domme is about psychologically and/or physically dominating your partner during BDSM activities. Also known as a dominatrix, a domme like to be in charge — that's when I feel most powerful. It's also important to note that a domme can dominate both inside and outside the bedroom.

For the first time in my life, I felt powerful. I had the right to say yes to what I wanted and no to what didn't feel safe and pleasurable.

"In BDSM, it's an exchange of power play that involves trust between the person who's considered to be the submissive and the person who's considered to be the dominant partner," Shamyra Howard, a sexologist who specializes in BDSM and nontraditional relationships, told Insider. "During this exchange of trust and power play, something powerful happens with a person who has been sexually abused in that they feel in control."

The consent element — a key component of BDSM — was healing for me, too. My partner's giving me consent to dominate him and my having him ask for consent to engage with me made me feel safe. I felt safe enough to be present sexually and finally felt like my body belonged to me.

Something about controlling my partner's orgasms, having my pleasure prioritized, telling my partner what to wear, and being called a goddess was healing and transformative. A few months in, I watched myself go from a performative domme fumbling around with a whip to a natural, confident domme.

Being a domme has made me more confident and assertive in all areas of my life

Participating in BDSM and becoming a domme has been instrumental in teaching me how to say no and be more assertive.

For instance, I had to get better at telling my partner to kiss my feet and telling him how versus asking him. This practice has made it progressively easier for me to be direct and ask for what I need at work and in other relationships in my life.

Setting boundaries is another thing I've gotten better at since becoming a domme. I've always been afraid to say "no," "stop," or "I don't like that." But before engaging in any type of BDSM, it's important to discuss boundaries on both sides and reinforce them during a session when necessary.

Howard says BDSM, where the rules center on boundaries, can help people who struggle with boundaries outside the bedroom see that they're "necessary to ensure their safety in other areas of life."

My journey to BDSM has been exciting, awkward, fulfilling, and full of learning curves. I've been able to create a safe space for myself sexually within the confines of direct orders, self-orchestrated sex scenes, and hard nos.

For the first time in my life, I can enjoy pleasure on my terms, free of self-judgment and shame. I can confidently say that giving myself permission to explore BDSM and accept my true, dominant self has been one of the highest and most liberating forms of self-love.