Utopia and Body Image

In The Time Machine (1960), the Utopian race, the Eloi, all look alike…  Young, pretty, and blonde.

Yvette Mimieux

But I realized something the other day.

Utopia wouldn’t be everyone looking the same, and perfect.


Utopia would be everyone seeing everyone else as beautiful, even if they weren’t the same, or perfect.

Perfection wouldn’t be us all matching the same social standard.  It would be when we stop caring about looks, stop talking about it, stop having social standards altogether.

If we keep judging and setting cookie cutter standards, there will ALWAYS be the majority of people who don’t fit.

I used to wish I lived back in the times when a fuller figure was in style.  But then what?  I could feel sexy at the expense of the skinny girls with fast metabolisms who just couldn’t gain any weight and get that hourglass figure?  Someone will always be hurt until we just eradicate the need for a standard or a scale of perfection.

Unfortunately, I don’t see social standards going away.  However, it is very encouraging to be on a site like FetLife and truly see that people have fetishes and are turned on by EVERYTHING under the sun.  Not just every sexual act, but every body style, as well.

The masses may not accept each other now, or in the coming millennia, but there are individuals who do.  I will strive to be among those individuals.

(Inspired by Morgan Freeman’s comments on racism.)

Worthlessness and Daddy Domination

The past few weeks, I’ve come to realize that I have needs and desires I wasn’t previously aware of. Some of them, I’m able to swallow… Others are potentially damaging. I’m pretty stunned by most of them, and have been trying to find the Why behind them, while also attempting to accept them as they come.

I’ve been talking with various friends, trying to find other perspectives on things. I’m sort of keeping a tentative eye open for the person who might fulfill these needs for me… But besides not being sure if a lot of it is a good idea, I think trying to get it all from one person would be impossible. But I can imagine if it did happen, I could regret it…mostly the physical abuse part. To delve into that topic…

I believe I am worthless. It began before I reached puberty, and I know that my dad was a big facilitator in those early feelings of no self-esteem. It’s normal for fathers to pull away physically when their daughters start growing up, but he became disdainful, critical about everything…mostly my body. Instead of my mom introducing me to things like make-up, he was always the one in my ear, he was the one who made me start shaving and made me feel ashamed of my body; he criticized my hair, made me wear dresses and never pants, forced me to go on long bike rides with him when I was on my period and wanted nothing more than to just stay home… I felt like I was never good enough and never able to make my own decisions or feel validated. I’ve hated my body since those early days when I was twelve or so. I know everyone blames the media and movie stars for making girls feel inadequate, but it was never that, for me. I just KNEW I wasn’t good enough, and never could be. I was out of my teens before I finally found one thing about my body that I could admit I liked, and that was my eyes…they could never change, never gain weight, never be anything other than the pretty kaleidoscope of colors that they already were.

My feelings of worthlessness have only grown stronger and deeper as time goes by, first from that place I didn’t know about (which I’m now beginning to think was initiated by my dad), and then by looking at other girls around me (again, never media) and seeing that I didn’t measure up, and finally in relationships. What’s sad is that my relationships have almost never ended in rejection… What I’ve found to happen when I get close to someone, is that I begin to doubt their sincerity. I have these ready-made excuses for why anyone would ever care about me. Most commonly, it’s “They just don’t know me well enough yet”. There’s never a doubt in my mind that once some threshold is crossed, they’ll realize the truth of my uselessness, and discard me. If our closeness fails to produce this result, I get panicky, and activate my first defense mechanism, which is pushing people away. I have many methods for this one, but they all have the same end result. If I cannot push someone away either by discontinuing the attractive sides of my personality, avoidance, downright rudeness, or trying to force them to tell me what they hate about me, I will end the relationship myself. Most of the time, that’s what it comes down to. For some inexplicable reason, it’s generally very difficult for me to get someone to abandon me. So in the end, I have a very sad and disturbing track record of abandoning people myself, instead. I’m sure to everyone involved, it seems like I’m a cold-hearted bitch, but hopefully as you see here, that couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s a desperate act of defense, born of fear and mistrust.

All of the above has been in regards to people who pursue me with care, delight, and respect. We’ve finally reached the topic of abuse, and this is where it really gets tragic. I’ve had people who treat me badly, or talk down to me, and I like it. I know I shouldn’t, but I do. It feels deserved. It feels RIGHT. Someone telling me they love me sounds like a lie…I’m always waiting for the bomb to drop, to figure out what it is they’re trying to get out of me, or what kind of trap they’re teasing me into. Emotional abuse feels natural. It’s static and trustworthy. It has to be real because that’s what I’m good for, it’s what I’m made for, isn’t it? It fits into my universe. It makes sense and it is familiar, thus comforting.

I think this is part of why I keep fantasizing about domination. The thing is…I don’t have a problem with that. Is that bad? Is that wrong? Does that turn you off or on? I crave it, and honestly I don’t care WHY I crave it…I just want it. I do want to understand it, have no doubt about that… But after I understand it, I just want to drown in it. It appeals to me on such a deep, feral level. I want to feel under. I want to feel lesser. I want to be told what to do. Ordered. Forced. I want to be talked down to and called names. All of that would turn me on like fuck. However… I need there to be a different undertone, as well. I want, just as savagely, to be rewarded for accepting that treatment. I need to be told to hold still so he can keep fucking me just the way he wants…because I make HIM feel good. I want him to be angry with me because he WANTS me. I want him to take what he wants, because he can, and tell me how hard it makes him, tell me he can’t hold back his cum and smack me in fury for making him lose control and cum like that. I NEED to be told I’m a good girl. I NEED to hear “Just like that, bitch”.

I need to be condescended to by a man who desires me.

Why I Am A Virgin

“Why are you a virgin?” This is quite the popular question, for me. If you’re waiting to hear that I’m saving myself so your thick juicy cock can take me tonight…well, enjoy that little fantasy. But if you don’t have the patience to read this entire entry…and I know 99.9% of you guys have already hit the Back button…then I’m afraid my pussy just isn’t meant for you.

As for why I haven’t given into my sexual desires yet… There are multiple layers to this. First, it was pounded into me from birth that not only is sex before marriage wrong on every conceivable level, but that even the first kiss should be at the altar. To me, now, this sounds ridiculous… But I’m sure you can imagine the immense conviction that was burned into my psyche as a child, through this edict. I feel deep guilt over many things in life, and especially the area of sexuality. I was not allowed to date, not even allowed to go to youth group at church…my dad didn’t deem those kids good enough for me to socialize with. Apart from a few blissful childhood years, I grew up very lonely and isolated. So add together the deep shame/fear/guilt over even considering doing something sexual, along with my isolation and fear of being close, and you’ve got a very strong foundation for remaining a virgin.

Besides this, I still haven’t settled on what my own beliefs regarding sex outside of marriage are. I think about things for a very long time before taking any rash action. I love the vibe of open relationships that I get online, but obviously that is only “practice” and the idea of implementing it into real life seems very scary, unattainable, and yes, possibly wrong. All the desire for it in the world can’t magically make my worry that I’m doing something wrong just disappear. So the biggest thing I need to figure out is what I really believe. A normal person would experiment to find that out, I’m sure, but I think it’s pretty obvious I’m not normal. ;) Experimenting, and making mistakes to learn from them, was NEVER an option my parents allowed. You just didn’t do things that were “wrong”. You didn’t do them, to see if they felt wrong. You didn’t decide what was right or wrong for yourself. You obeyed without question and if you didn’t, you were bad, sinful, a horrible person. You shouldn’t even wonder about something outside the box, because everything outside that box is of the devil, and God forbid we study the devil’s work. This applied to so many areas of my life, I can’t even describe it. I didn’t know about other religions, growing up. Everything I learned was controlled by my parents. I didn’t even know that I was being kept in the dark. This type of childhood psychological manipulation disturbs me on a very deep, angry level, now that I am beginning to see how it was used on me. I want to escape but I really don’t know how. I am twenty-five now and it seems insane to feel so trapped and controlled…the side of me that thinks for myself wants to go experiment, make my own decisions, and LIVE…but the side of me that lives in fear and guilt is still a little girl, and she has the final say in everything I do, right now.

Despite all this, I definitely view my virginity as a choice. I’m not one of those whimpering guys who is desperate to find someone to bang so he can finally tell his friends he “did it”. Keeping my virginity is a conscious choice and something I am very proud of. I have had opportunities to lose it…tempting ones! But I’m very glad that I stuck to my guns. Everything I’ve mentioned above are huge underlying factors, no doubt about it, but in the end it is something I have fought to keep and I am very proud of myself for that.

Moving on to other layers in the reasoning… I hate my body. I have since before I hit puberty. I believe that I had body dysmorphic disorder all through my teenage years, and up into my early twenties. I hated every inch of my body and believed beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was disgustingly fat. I was 115 pounds and my waist was 23 inches. But under this complete illusion that I was fat, I never noticed when my body started changing. I gained a hundred pounds and didn’t bat an eyelash because I looked the way I felt and I didn’t even realize that the two hadn’t always been aligned. One day I looked in the mirror and it all crashed down on me…I realized that I embodied what had only been in my mind before. I was stunned. I went back and looked at pictures and couldn’t believe what I used to look like. I had always thought I looked this way and was in disbelief that it had only been in my mind, all these years. I can’t really describe what it felt like to realize that my mind had tricked me and that I’d ruined my body because I believed that trick. I’m not even sure it makes sense… But in any case, I have always hated my body, whether legitimately or not, and that is obviously a very big dissuasion for having sex. All the horniness in the world doesn’t make up for a body that is unattractive, and all the encouragement in the world cannot make my perception of body image change, either.

Last, but not least by any stretch of the imagination, is the possibility of becoming pregnant. I do not EVER want children. I could write pages on why, but if you’ve made it through this much of my babbling, you deserve a medal and a bit of mercy, so I’ll just leave it at the fact that I never want them. Second problem? I do not, under any circumstances, believe in abortion. These coupled together mean that having sex is about the most dangerous thing that exists, for my happiness. I would not have an abortion, so if I got pregnant, my life would be essentially ruined. Birth control, I know you’re yelling at the monitor! Well, I’ve watched my brother, cousins, and friends, ALL have children while on the pill, using condoms, depo, the nuva ring, even the IUD. Enough said. :P I trust nothing. I would get a hysterectomy today, but doctors won’t perform it on someone as young as I am. My only hang-up with that is how it totally screws up your hormones, and even your sex drive… So even my “perfect fix” to the pregnancy problem isn’t very perfect at all. But it is the only sure thing.

In summary…yes, I have chosen to remain a virgin, for my own emotional well-being and because it’s something I take pride in. If my decision changes, however, I have very deep issues I will somehow have to overcome, in order to move on… I would have to decide that having sex outside of marriage is okay. I would have to stop feeling bound by guilt that was ingrained in me since childhood. I would have to accept my body, and move through the fear that no one on earth would ever want me or accept me. And I would have to somehow feel confident that I could never, ever get pregnant. Do you see what a cage I’m in? It’s too immense to even think of trying to get out of. So for now, I am staying there. I have so many other issues I could choose to work on, and just let this one lay sleeping… That seems to be my best option, for now. So here I am…exploring sexuality…but don’t you ever think I’m here to get “it” over and done with. I’m here to learn more about myself, more about sex, more about the world. I am looking for someone special. Will I find him? Is he you? If the answer is yes…well, it’s going to be quite the journey. :)

Domination vs. Abuse

This entry will be updated on an ongoing basis…

This is not my theory on domination or abuse, but rather a place to muse about my own issues, struggles, and fears.

I believe it is a deep honor for someone to feel so strongly about you, want you so intensely…to want to own you, in some ways. Jealousy, in that way, is sexy to me. It is a compliment. However, it also leads me into the darker side of things, where I could see myself believing that ANY intense feeling directed toward me is a positive thing. I feel like if a man were abusive to me, I might accept it, not only because my self-esteem says that it is “correct”, but also because I can completely imagine it feeling good…knowing he felt deeply for me. Even if that deep feeling is anger, violence, abuse…it would be about me, for me, inspired by me, and therefore a good thing. Yeah…this worries me. :P

On one hand, all of it turns me on. On the other hand, I have to wonder why? The why is more scary than the act itself. Someone hitting me is something I could be okay with. But WHY am I okay with it? Now that’s scary. I’m discovering all these things that, a few years ago, would have horrified me…but instead, they are enticing, and I’m turned on by them.

Obviously I have deep curiosity and I’m enjoying the journey of discovery. But at the same time it’s making me think there is something very psychologically wrong with me. When I was younger, I always thought domination was just a kinky thing. I believe it still can be. But I think for me, it’s psychological. I don’t want to be smacked around for the novelty of it. I want to be smacked around because I believe I’m worthless, and that treatment would reinforce that belief. Should I be okay with that? It turns me on…but it also depresses me. I have no idea what to do with these thoughts, in particular.

Also, how does this reflect back in the Dom? Because yes, as the sub I would be asking for this treatment, we’d both know it turns me on…but am I asking to be punished for sick reasons? If you were the Dom, and knew how much this depressed me and how messed up I felt, would you want to treat me this way? Isn’t that abuse…even if it’s invited? If the Dom knows that I’m not just enjoying feeling helpless, but actually soaking in complete self-hatred and worthlessness and feeling suicidal over it…but does it to me anyway…what does that say about the Dom? What difference would there be if I went out and teased drunk guys in a bar until they raped me? It’s like a sexual deathwish.