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I love rubber boots (2)

I love rubber boots (2)

I now knew that I was not the only one with this preference for rubber boots and that there were even some who enjoyed wearing rubber clothes. More importantly, now that I was certain that my feelings for men in rubber boots were not as absurd as I thought, my fears of not being normal dissipated. The wildest thoughts had completely dominated my mind. Even though I could deal with my passion for rubber boots in a more relaxed way, I hadn't given up on the idea of getting rid of them. I thought that if I could find the cause of this addiction, I could get rid of it once and for all. So I started to look for an answer to the why.              

One day, while looking for books on personal development in a bookshop, one of them, entitled Dreams Don't Lie, caught my eye. I read the introduction. Intuitively, I had the feeling that it was the right one.
In this book, the author describes what dreams want to convey as information for us, human beings. How dreams give us access to our unconscious. How they can be interpreted and analysed in a very personal way. Each person has his or her own relationship with the objects, actions, etc. of his or her dreams. Dreams are therefore tailor-made for us, so to speak. I realised that my dreams could give me access to my unconscious and that I could understand the reason for my rubber boot fetish.
With a simple statement, "I remember my important dreams", and a little practice, you can remember your dreams and write them down. With this book and the analysis of my dreams, a journey into my psyche had begun and spanned several years. To go into detail would be too complex and time consuming.

imag0045During this period I often went for walks in rubber boots along the Aare or the Sensegraben. During these walks, thoughts were running at full speed. Thoughts about what the dream analysis had brought up. It was like a sorting of thoughts. Often a thought would flash through me. For a fraction of a second I would see images of impressions from my childhood. Impressions that had remained in my subconscious without being processed and which, over time, had been covered by more recent impressions. Therefore, with each flash of thought, I felt as if I was tearing out a spider's web that opened my view to a deeper level. This is how I made my way through countless levels. To a blurred point that I perceived as the centre of the trigger of my preference for rubber boots.

When I couldn't make it to a level, I often found a book that dealt with the subject in question. Then I would keep going. The closer I got to that centre, the more perseveringly I progressed.

After a lot of time and patience, I discovered the essence of the subject. At least, what I thought was the cause at that time. For it turned out that it was not a single impression, but a series of impressions resulting from different experiences or observations. The individual experience or observation did not have much influence in itself, but the sum of the individual experiences was decisive. I do not wish to dwell on experiences and observations here, because they are too individual. By this I mean that each person has his or her own experiences, which are only valid for that person. They cannot be generalised.
Instead, there are psychic mechanisms that are the same in all individuals and that have a very different effect depending on the experience.

Contrary to what I thought, this discovery did not end my rubber boot fetish, but led me to accept it. And even to "have to live with it", as the psychologist said at the time. With the essential difference that it was no longer a fate, but a decision. It turned out that the taste for rubber boots was a facet of my being that was part of me, just as breathing is part of life. Once I understood and assimilated this, the question "How do I get rid of it?" became irrelevant. The question "How can I live with it?" was now much more important. It was now a complete reversal.

It turned out that my walks in rubber boots provided the perfect opportunity to indulge my addiction. Depending on the weather conditions, I wore fishing boots and, from time to time, rubber clothes. Here, in nature, by the river, I felt comfortable with that. I always hoped to meet a like-minded person. But I didn't. However, one Sunday afternoon, as I was walking through the Sensegraben once again in my Agraro Allround rubber boots, two guys wearing the same boots came up to me. I stood there paralysed. I actually wanted to approach them, but I didn't have the courage. They walked past me at a brisk pace. I noticed that one of them was taking a long look at me, or rather at my rubber boots. Both of them were far away. The opportunity was lost. Suddenly the man who had been staring at me so intently came back to me. He asked me if it was possible that I liked rubber boots. I answered in the affirmative, because I sensed that he was serious. We talked briefly. We exchanged phone numbers. I couldn't believe my luck. We met several times and it turned out that he too had a fetish for rubber boots. But he didn't like men. For a while we exchanged views. Although we shared a rubber boot fetish, we had drifted apart completely on a personal level. This friendship dried up over time. Our views were too different.
The desire to find a like-minded man had flared up. I tried hard to make it happen, but it never really worked. I wasn't ready to make friends yet.

NokiaKontioThen the day came when I went into town wearing rubber boots in the hope that a guy would approach me. It had happened before, but not with the right person. Going into town in rubber boots took a certain amount of courage. I didn't really feel comfortable. But no one ever said anything about it. Apart from a few stupid remarks, nobody was interested in me and my rubber boots. Even though I was on the verge of accepting my fetish, I was not yet strong enough to live it so openly. I needed a few more years to do that. Too often I had used the excuse that I was still living at home with my mother to justify my hesitation to reveal my passion. Looking back, I must say that it was a welcome excuse.

A few years later, when I was living at home alone, a change occurred in me. I was now looking for many more like-minded people. Through the Internet I came into contact with a man from Denmark who wanted to fulfil his long-held dream of becoming a valet in rubber boots. We had had some crazy discussions with him. I liked the idea of imitating him. Whether you believe it or not. It only took a few weeks for me to find a guy on the Internet who was looking for someone to role-play. That was the beginning of a crazy story. During this time I was asked to wear rubber boots during the day and waders at night to sleep. The exception was at work, where I was allowed to wear work shoes. Although my job did not require me to wear rubber boots in any way, I wanted to live up to my role there too. So I went to work in rubber boots for the first time, but with mixed feelings. I had chosen a rainy day. It was a pretty smooth start. In the following days I showed up several times in rubber boots. Some of my colleagues' looks became longer. On the third day, the first remarks appeared. When I got into the habit of coming to work in rubber boots, the remarks dried up and no one was interested in the type of shoes I was wearing.

The situation was similar at home. At first the neighbours were surprised to see me still wearing rubber boots. When this became a regular sight, the interest also decreased. The same thing happened with the brothers and sisters. What is absolutely amazing is that of all the people I dealt with, no one ever asked me why I always wore rubber boots. It would have been quite obvious and not even absurd.

The end of this role-playing began when I visited my master in Hamburg. Then a very different man was revealed to me than the one he claimed to be on the Internet. Although nothing happened, I spent two pleasant days in northern Germany. One thing was clear, however: the magic of the game had faded after that visit. With the arrival of the warm season, it became more and more difficult to wear rubber boots all the time. As the role-playing failed, I decided to abandon it and return to my previous lifestyle.

This experience was very revealing. Once you give up responsibility for your actions, it is much easier to do things you would never have done otherwise. I would never have worn rubber boots 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Another thing that became obvious is that once people's initial curiosity has passed, they get used to the new look. Also, I realised that I can wear rubber boots whenever I want to. It suits me and I can enjoy it. I no longer have this obsessive need to wear rubber boots at all costs. In other words, I have learned to live with it. It took a while to get there, but that's normal.

When I stopped stubbornly searching for someone who shares my taste, luck smiled on me a third time. I have now been in a happy relationship for over ten years with a man who shares my passion for rubber boots. So this is a happy ending.

To answer the blog question, I like rubber boots, is that a problem? Each person has their own view of their rubber boot fetish. So the answer is very individual.

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