What I love about shibari isn’t just being tied up: it’s letting go… and especially the moment he unties me.

We are not shibari experts. Far from it. It all started almost out of curiosity, when we were living abroad and exploring BDSM more together. He had watched a few tutorials on the internet, tried to understand the gestures, the knots, the way to place the ropes. Nothing very academic, nothing especially spectacular. Just the desire to try something new, the two of us. I don’t think I really knew what to expect the first time. I thought it would mostly be the ropes I would feel. Their touch on my skin. The restraint. The fact that I would no longer be able to move as I wanted. But I discovered something far more unsettling. I love the moment when he starts setting up the ties. There is no sudden switch. Everything happens gradually. One rope goes in, then another. He adjusts, tightens slightly, checks. And as the ties settle into place, something changes in my head. At first, I could still intervene. Move. Decide. Then, little by little, I simply stop wanting to. I feel the ropes tightening on my skin, my movements becoming more limited, and my body no longer quite belonging to me in the same way. Yet I do not experience that as a loss. On the contrary. It is exactly what I came looking for. For a few moments, I can stop controlling. I no longer have to choose what comes next. I no longer have to anticipate. I no longer have to lead. I can simply let myself be handled, moved, guided gently. And I think that is where the full power of this practice lies for me. Being at his mercy could seem like a huge loss of control. Yet what I like is precisely knowing that I chose to give him that control. He does not take it from me. It is something I entrust to him. And that difference changes everything. You have to trust the person holding the ropes. Trust in their gestures, of course, but above all trust in their attention. Knowing that in the middle of this chosen vulnerability, he keeps watching my reactions. That he knows me well enough to feel when I am fine, when something becomes uncomfortable, when I need him to slow down. It is strange how a few meters of rope can sometimes make very visible something that already exists in a couple. Trust. Attention. The ability to surrender to the other without disappearing from yourself. Yet, as pleasant as all of the above is, there is one moment I almost look forward to even more. The one when he starts untying me. The ropes that had gradually held me in place loosen one by one. My body regains its freedom, but it still keeps the memory of what has just happened. My wrists are sensitive. Some muscles a little numb. My limbs slightly sore from staying in the same position. And oddly enough, I love that feeling. Not so much because of the pain itself, but because it prolongs for a few more moments what we have just shared. Then come his hands. He gently runs his fingers over my wrists, massages the places that were worked, warms my skin, relaxes my limbs. And that is probably my favorite moment. Because everything changes at that instant. A few minutes earlier, I was voluntarily at his mercy. He was the one deciding my movements, tightening the ties, controlling the situation. And suddenly, that same attention that was used to hold me is used to care for me. Constraint becomes tenderness. Control becomes care. And little by little, I regain the freedom of my movements under his hands. I even think it is this contrast that moves me most. Shibari made me understand that what I love is ultimately not simply being tied up. I love the path that leads me to let go. I love feeling gradually that I no longer need to control what is going to happen. I love being able to be vulnerable because I know with whom I am. And above all, I love this afterward. That calm moment when there is no real play left, no role, no power struggle. Only two people very close to each other and the feeling of having shared something that words ultimately describe rather badly. We are still very much amateurs. Our experiences remain simple and we still have so much to discover. But maybe I like it that way too. I do not need the ropes to become more complicated to feel more. Because, deep down, what shibari says best about our couple is not the way he can tie me up. It is the trust with which I let him do it. And the softness with which, afterwards, he gives me back my freedom.