Life is a series of lessons. As adolescents we think we know it all, defying all the advice from our parents, grandparents, and any adult figure. Basically, all the people who really do know better than we do.
We go out into the world, jumping in with both feet, not even looking to see if the water is hot or if we are jumping into the mouth of a crocodile, we just jump, certain that we know better and will do better than those before us because we are smarter, right?
The first stumble is a blow to our ego, but we rise up, dust ourselves off, and keep going because one mistake doesn’t make a bad person. Then life begins to hit us with one thing after another, we start saying things like, “if it’s not raining, then it’s pouring” Life becomes a series of mistakes and bad decisions that add up, one after the other, a wicked storybook detailing the moments we are most ashamed of.
Before long, things begin to settle down. Life seems to become more of a dirt road with bumps and curves, but fairly even.
Then out of nowhere, without any warning, our past comes back to haunt us…for whatever reason, nobody really knows, it seems like it is just another cruel game that life likes to play with us. And the entire time, even years after leaving home, all you can think is, “I should have listened to my parents.” Yet, despite the warnings of generations past, we all make that same mistakes. Certain that our parents don’t understand our generation, they don’t know what it is like because things are different.
Looking back, I know now that nothing ever really changes. Little things like fashion may change or technology improves like cell phones compared to corded home phones, but all in all, people are people. Every girl in high school still gets her heart broken by that boy who swore he loved her and would love her forever only to shatter her heart to pieces when he gets whatever he wanted from her.
What is my point with this post, you ask? I have no idea lol. I was born in the era where spankings were being pushed aside for punishments like time-out. I can’t tell you how long I spent in that time-out chair when I was a child, but I am sure it was an awful long time.
I was warned about men who were mean, abusive, and cruel. Men should be doting and caring, my parents would say. Knowing that physical punishment was on that list of “bad men to date”, I know they would not approve of my penchant for picking men who are more dominant, alpha men who carry themselves with confidence and strength. What my parents don’t understand is that dominant men, a real dominant man, is not abusive but completely caring and loving. I have been treated like a princess, my needs put first in all ways, with a dominant man. I can’t say that I have ever felt that cherished by any man who was not into DD that I dated.
So what if a man put his woman over his knee and spanks her when she is acting like a spoiled brat, or that he paddles her bottom when she has put herself in danger? What is so wrong with that if it is consensual, if it is not excessive and if it is something that works for them, as a couple? Who are we to judge? In this day and age, really what can people say?
There are many mistakes that I wish I had listened to my parents on, like credit scores and how important they are. It took me having a bad credit rating to realize how difficult it is in life with bad credit, thankfully that has been fixed since then, but what a waste of time! So yes, my parents were right on credit scores and paying bills on time, but maybe with this one thing about dominant men, maybe they are wrong. Life is more fulfilling to me when I am with a man who is focused on me and taking care of me, is that so bad? Am I blinded by my own desires to see the truth? Are my parents right and am I just having life teach me another lesson? I just want to believe that maybe my parents just don’t know enough about a DD relationship to really make the right judgment. It isn’t about abuse like many believe, it is about love and respect. And maybe people aren’t giving DD the chance it deserves.