The role of Alpha has its controversies (it can easily fall into toxicity), and so does the role of fag (the term itself is potentially divisive). But the switch engenders probably the most huffing and puffing and outrage of any role in the community.

“They’re lying.”
“It’s a phase”
“They’re switches until they get fucked.” 

Here, I can tell you personally: switches exist. I know, because, pace Descartes:

“I switch, therefore I am.”

A switch is a person who, in certain situations, finds themselves preferring the submissive role. In other situations, they identify with the dominant role. Give me a cocky jock, a swaggering construction worker, or an arrogant college guy, and I’m licking boots. But give me a shrinking blond twink, or a shy punk, and I’m pulling out my extensive collection of dildos for some throat training. About eighty to ninety percent of the time, I prefer the submissive role, but I can get into the headspace of a dominant and do, occasionally, like to live there, so I regard myself as a switch. Other switches are more evenly balanced, or perhaps have a stronger preference toward Alpha than fag behavior. And many switches I’ve met, though by no means all, are Alphas with fags who prefer a submissive role with women. All of these permutations, and many others, are valid.

Yet plenty of fags and Alphas alike will say that they’re not valid; that, in fact, there are no switches at all. That they simply don’t exist. And while I might enjoy the idea of being a cryptid like Bigfoot, I assure you, we are not myths. The myths, I think, are these:

Myth 1: Switches are fake: they’re just fags or Alphas who can’t face the truth. 

Reality: In Jean-Paul Sartre’s Being and Nothingness, he outlines a concept he calls “bad faith” (And yes, I’m referencing existentialist philosophy in an essay on fags and Alphas and switches. That’s the way I roll). Sartre defines bad faith by giving examples. Take, he says, a waiter in a cafe. A waiter goes through the motions, trying to be the perfect waiter, trying to be nothing but a waiter. But he can’t, no matter what, ever delete all those things inside of him that aren’t “waiter.” He can’t stop being a human, with all its complexity. He can’t be a waiter the same way, Sartre says, that an inkwell is an inkwell. 

Humans are complex: we exhibit what he calls both a facticity (we are what we are) and a transcendence (we are more than what we think). His philosophy is complex, so you shouldn’t quote me in your Philosophy 101 paper, but the point is this:

We’re almost never only one thing.

I’m not saying that everyone is a switch, but everyone puts on different roles depending on the situation. You might be a hundred-percent fag; a urinal-licking, boot-slurping, chore-begging little slut (and good for you!). But you still, probably, have friends, family, a job, a life. You still have interests other than dick, even if they’re just reruns of The Office or the pad thai from that one place downtown or Iain Banks novels. And if you don’t, you may wish to consult with someone who can help you live a richer life (if nothing else, being more well-rounded makes you more attractive to Alphas – but that’s a topic for a future essay).

Switches, like bisexuals, exist, and probably in relatively large numbers. They’re real, and wishing them away for the simplicity of the Alpha/fag binary won’t erase them. 

Myth 2: Switches are only switches so they can get laid easier. 

Reality: You’ve probably noticed the odd economics of the Alpha/fag dynamic. Namely: there are a lot more fags than there are Alphas. In terms of supply and demand, the supply wildly outstrips the demand (which is one reason that some Alphas can ask for payment and receive it, but pretty much no one pays a fag to serve an Alpha). So this myth has, perhaps, a kernel of truth: if you want power-exchange and Alpha/fag experiences, you might have more luck if you branch out. 

I prefer wine, but sometimes, a nice craft beer goes well with my mood. Also, not every place serves wine. So sometimes I order beer. Similarly, I prefer being a fag, but sometimes I’m an Alpha. As Whitman (a bit of a fag himself, I suspect) said, “I am large, I contain multitudes.” I love the feeling of humiliation, the abject abasement of my huge ego under the sole of a worn sneaker. But my ego is huge, and sometimes it needs a bit of room to play in. And sometimes it’s really, really nice to just take charge and do it right. 

So yes: I am a switch because it means I have more opportunities for exploration and more chances to make connections with people into this dynamic. So the myth here is that it’s a bad thing to want more connection with others, more experiences, and more pleasure. 

Myth 3: All switches will eventually fall into one of the two roles and stay there. 

I know men want to think their dicks are magic wands, and while I appreciate a good cock to the point of worship, they’re just not. There’s no bippity-boppity-boo in getting fucked. 

Being anally penetrated does not make someone a fag. The idea that it does probably has its origin in internalized homophobia. In itself – in its facticity, as Sartre might say – being penetrated is just that: a penis enters a person. It’s often pleasurable, and the ideas we hang around it can be life-changing and deeply, even spiritually, moving. But it won’t change a person’s identity.

The truth in this myth, insofar as there is some, is this: people’s preferences change over time. As I mature, I become more dominant in many areas of my life. Others may become more submissive. Some may spend years as a fag, without a whim to dominate another. Others may find themselves becoming more dominant. That doesn’t mean that we fall into one or the other, necessarily, or that all will.

I will go so far as to suggest that those who have some experience on both sides of the binary develop a deeper understanding of both submission and domination. Alphas who can submit learn what it means to submit, and what it requires. Fags who can dominate learn exactly how much work and effort it takes to be an Alpha. We both appreciate each other when we walk in – and not just lick – each other’s shoes. 

---

The hierarchy is not a simple pyramid or a straight ladder, but a branching tree, or better yet, an ivy vine that climbs and twists and curves. Sometimes, we need to know there are men better than us. Sometimes, we need to know there are men who will bend their knee to us. The wonderful thing about power is that it exhibits such complexity, and can be used for good or ill, cruelty or kindness – and even cruelty that is kindness. To oversimplify the hierarchy into a prison of two ideas is to deny ourselves the freedoms of pleasure. 

Not everyone needs to be a switch. Being a fag is wonderful and being an Alpha is divine. But the complexity of hierarchy is its strength, and denying that complexity denies reality. 

---

Thomas Carver is the author of over a hundred erotic novels and novellas, all available on Amazon for purchase or through Kindle Unlimited. He splits his time between Chicago and southern California. When he’s not furiously composing hot stories about dominant alphas, submissive fags, and kinky situations, he writes music, sculpts stone, and seeks adventure. His full catalog of stories may be found here: viewAuthor.at/ThomasCarver.

His website is thomas-carver.mailchimpsitees.com, with contact information, mailing list, and links to his Patreon.