I Don't Want to Be Spanked

Have you ever taken a nap? Like a really SOLID, LONG nap and when you wake up for just a split second you have no idea what day it is or where you are or what time it is?? It's like sheer panic for one moment because you basically forgot what your name is.

That keeps happening to me! And when I wake up, I panic and then I start to laugh because I CANNOT BELIEVE I MOVED!! WHAT?! Like who does that?! I don't know anybody here! It's crazy!!!! When I look around my room with no furniture (I did manage to get a bed finally!) and I think about how many miles I am from home I just can't fathom it!

Things are good here. I do miss friends but I am happy to be some place new. I did get a job but it's not a job that will pay rent so I'm still actively seeking a new one. Life is very different being an adult. It's an odd thing working 40 hours a week. How do you guys do it!? I thought when I got out of college I would have so much time to just write and read long novels and do 1200 piece puzzles but I don't! I wake up ridiculously early, go to work, and when I come home I take a shower, make dinner and then I lay on my bed exhausted!! I am always so worn out! I want to go work out or go grocery shopping but I'm so dead! Work is gross. I don't like it. Being an adult is hard. haha

Anyways, on to DD life. I've been thinking about it a little bit (<--- Understatement of the year) and I woke up with a profound thought a few days ago.

I don't want to be spanked. I want to be loved. And, to put it very plainly, I simply cannot think of any greater way to be loved.

I don't necessarily look forward to the spanking part. I mean sometimes I do but a lot of the time, it just kinda makes my stomach churn and makes me want to hide under the covers. 

Yet, I cannot fathom anything stronger or more emotional or loving than the DD lifestyle. I want it even more than I want to have sex. I want it even more than I want money or a better job or a car that works or furniture in my apartment.

I know this lifestyle isn't something that's always fun or peachy keen. Sometimes when I think about it, I ask myself if I'm sure. Like am I sure that I'm sure that I'm sure that I want this. Sometimes I think when I get married, I am going to wait a few years before I tell him. Just because I don't want to regret it... :)

But I know myself better than that. I know that my desire for a life like this is so strong and so much a part of who I am and I know it will never change.

I don't want to say I need it because that sounds odd to me. I think I "need" it like I "need" chocolate. Like if I were on a desert island and I didn't have chocolate, of course I would LIVE. If I had food and water and human interaction I would LIVE and be okay. But I would never be completely content, completely satisfied without chocolate. I, of course, know I could live without spanking. I know I could be in love, be happy, be emotionally connected, all that stuff. But I also feel like I need it to be completely sated. **sigh** It's complicated. 

I know that I will tell him. And I even know that I'll regret it. But what's more than that, I know I will be thankful for every single swat. The whole thing is a paradox really but it makes sense to me even when it doesn't.

Those are my mixed up thoughts to share with you! I love you all and miss you lots!!!


Still waiting,
JJ 

Running Away

Hi. It's me! Worst blogger EVER!

I don't even know what to say here anymore. I’m just not the same person I was when I started this blog almost two years ago. So much has happened and I just don't feel like I have that much to write about anymore.

I'm just too lonely. I'm beginning to feel like finding a relationship is not in the cards for me. I've stopped reading your blogs because to me it's just as dangerous as reading Twilight or 50 Shades of Grey. It's just a fantasy that isn't real, that isn't my life, and so why should I pretend?

I graduated college in May and since then I began to sink into a depression and feel very stuck. I began to feel like I was suffocating and like I was never going to be able to do anything important in my life. I love my mom and my town and all my friends there but I knew when my college began class again, that I would be depressed and wanting to go up there all the time.

So I did what any clear, level-headed, twenty-something year old girl would do. 

I packed up my car with all my belongings (full to the brim!) and I moved 794 miles away from home. I moved to a town much bigger than my own. I don't know anyone, I don't have a job, and I have never even been to this state before. I did find an apartment before I came but that was it. 

I just had to. I had to get away. I couldn't stay there anymore because I needed something else - I craved it from the very core of my being. I have to breathe. I need new people with new options and new perspectives and new faces. (And I need a job and money but that's not important haha)

I am at a quaint little cafe at the moment because I can't afford WIFI or TV or anything at my apartment yet. I'm barely going to be able to make rent and keep electricity on.

Even though I knew people in my hometown, I felt so lonely and so unable to meet new people. I've only been here for about three days so I haven't made new friends yet but I'm hoping to. I did try a new church this morning but it was full of young marrieds and I just didn't fit.

I'm praying every day, almost hourly, for some boy to just walk in. I don't know how I can make it any longer. My heart aches every moment. I want a family. I want a husband. I want to cook for someone. I want a place where I know I'm going to live and settle in for a few years instead of apartments that I keep living at temporarily. I want to hold someone's hand in church.

And if you're going to comment and tell me I won't live happily ever after once I meet someone, please don't. I KNOW that. I know it will be hard work. I know it's not perfect. Believe me, I get it. really. I also get that it's hard to be alone. It's hard to not have sex. It's hard to change tires, mow lawns, balance check books and sit in church by yourself. And I don't think I'm asking for too much.

I just want a husband who will love me and cherish me and be a Godly man. I don't think that's too much to ask, really I don't.

DEAR HUSBAND,

   I am in a new city. It's big. I don't know anyone. I am sitting alone at a coffee shop. (I'm the one with a bow in my hair). How about you come meet me now because that's how it works in every movie ever made. 

Sincerely,

Me

My Dreams

I dream of a life where people care about me MORE. I know that's probably one of the most selfish dreams a person can have, but I dream it still the same. In this dream, they care about me enough to come and get me when I'm somewhere I shouldn't be, enough to tell me to stop talking when I'm saying things I shouldn't say, enough to tell me to knock it off when I'm doing things I shouldn't do.

I do have many, many people in my life who love me and care about me. I have friends, mentors, family members, professors, who have poured their time and energy into caring about me and for that I am very grateful. Without each one of their influences I would not be where I am today.

But I want more. I always want more. I want someone who cares enough to take responsibility. Someone who cares about my well-being. My future. My current choices. Cares enough to say, "Hey, stop making that choice. It's a bad one."

I dream of a life where all these adults I respect and love so much don't give up on me. They don't walk away when I'm too much. They stick in for the long haul and decide I'm worth the trouble. I'm not talking about spanking, I'm talking about caring for me with words and interactions, in a loving way. Not yelling, not screaming, not abusive, not harmful to me. They want to correct me because they know I can be better, because they know I should do better, because they expect more from me. 


I think I gravitate towards people who have really high expectations. People who are picky, hard-to-please and somewhat critical. I have always been close to those people because I appreciate the high expectations they set and the honesty with which they approach things.

My mom isn't one of those people.

She loves me very much but she doesn't love me in a way that's constructive for me. A few months ago, I signed up to run my first half marathon and a few weeks into training I was complaining about how afraid I was for race day. Her reply? "Well honey, it's perfectly acceptable if you want to just run a few miles and then come stand by me."

WHAT?! No, actually mom, that's not okay. It's not! I am a grown adult woman! I paid for this race! I signed up for 13.1 miles! If I planned on only running "a few," I should have signed up for the 3K! It's not okay for me to just drop out on something. I have to set high expectations for myself AND I have to encourage myself to follow through with them because I know she won't. And if I don't meet a specific expectation, I seem to always take on the role of informing myself how awful it was of me to mess up. 

Today was my last day of college. I have been in college for 5 years and I will graduate with two degrees in two days. Not because anyone expected me to. Not because anyone told me to. My mom has never said "you had better go to college," or even "I want you to finish college." She has never asked what my grades are, she just trusts they are good enough for me. 

She doesn't have expectations for me. Of course my mom is proud. She's always proud. But she would honestly be just as proud of me if I made all D's, dropped out three years ago and got a job at a restaurant. I can even hear her telling her friends, "Yes, I am so proud! You should see her! She is the best waitress ever!" She thinks I'm great no matter what. And that's good, I appreciate her being my number one fan. I know not everyone has that type of mother in their lives and I am grateful for her. 

It's just that...I do wish she would have expectations for me.

But I have all those other wonderful high expectation people in my life who do have expectations for me...

The problem is these people aren't always loving, caring, gentle and sensitive to me like I need sometimes. And when their sky high expectations are mixed with "you had betters" and "I can't believe you did such and such," it leaves me feeling more worthless and not-good enough. I know they do love me, they just don't show it well. I have trouble living up to their standards and sometimes I leave conversations feeling doubtful of myself and my abilities and unsure of how to better meet their expectations.


While my friends are telling extravagant stories of their teenage years where their parents quietly showed up at a party, took them home and grounded them, I can't help by swoon a little.

I crave someone to care about me. Care about me in that way. Set boundaries for me. Expect more from me. But match those expectations with encouragements, realistic ideals and patient understanding. 


I will go on to do great things. I know I will. Because I expect great things from myself. But it would be nice if someone else did too. 

I'm pretty sure I just want a parent.

Who's Your Daddy? The Electra Complex

I apologize in advance for this rambling post. I'm in a horrible funk lately and can't seem to pull myself out of it....

Here's what's in my stormy head... 


Most days I am an adult. I wake up and interact healthily with all those around me and I go to class and I pay the bills, I put on my big girl panties and even kill spiders when I have to. Life happens but I DEAL. I have a wonderful group of friends who surround me and love me and care about me. I come home and I pray for a man who will be a great husband to me.

But then there are other days. Days that I don't really wake up on the healthy side of life. Days that I barely get out of bed and interacting with others is a chore. I don't use my best judgement, I don't watch my words or my reactions and things just don't really turn out real well. My friends get busy and don't have time for me. I get bogged down with homework and applications for this dooming after-college life that is approaching much too quickly. And a sudden deep loneliness begins to rumble way down in my soul.

And I don't really want a husband on these nights. On these nights...I just want a daddy. I want a daddy to come home and hold me and tell me it will all be alright. A daddy to tell me I am lovely and I am worth pursuing and I am beautiful and I am his little girl that he will protect.

It's confusing to me because I don't know what's healthy. I don't know what's normal. I don't know what is okay for me. Do I want a husband or a dad? Is it unhealthy to expect a husband to fulfill dad-like roles? Is that all this is? Is that what I want in DD? If so does that make me the most horrible, awful, pathetic and psychotic person alive?

When talking about this dynamic with the few people who know about it, they have remarked things like "I wouldn't want my husband to be like my father."

And I agree. Sort of. I agree in that I don't want to be treated like a child.

I do not want to be treated as uneducated or less than, I do not want to be talked down to or belittled or humiliated. I want to be an adult with an opinion that is heard. I want to be respected. I want it to be acknowledged that there may be some matters in life that I do know more about than my husband and vice versa. I want to be treated as an adult fully capable of taking care of myself and making wise decisions.

And yet...I still want to be his little girl. 

I don't mind being seen as a bit fragile. A little girl in a big scary world who needs protecting and guidance at times. Who needs big arms to hold her close and maybe be just a bit...fatherly to her.


There are a select few men in my life who are wonderful, amazing, Christian men who care about me in a fatherly way. They inspire me in school and they truly want what is best for me.

But sometimes I get confused. I love spending time with them. I love talking to them about life and I love getting their opinion and I love buying them gifts and then I start to worry...do I like them? Surely not. I mean I don't want to have sex with them. That's super gross. But I do get jealous when they talk to anyone else. I do look forward to seeing them all day. I do go completely out of my way for them and re-arrange life just so I can spend more time with each of them.

I get so confused. Do I like him or do I like like him? Do I just like how fatherly he is? Is that normal? Is there any other girl in the whole world who feels this way?


Sometimes...when I dream about my life in the future, I think about DD and I mostly just think about the "afterwards." The cuddling and the sweet talk and him rubbing my back and making me feel better. The afterwards is the best part.

I think I mostly want DD for the afterwards. I want to be able to just cry and be held for a long time and cuddled. That sounds like Heaven. I wonder what that feels like for a man to just be so gentle and sweet? There's a memory somewhere in my brain from a long time ago of sitting on my stepdads lap and him rubbing my back - it's the best memory I have of him ever. Or any man ever for that matter.

Some nights, like tonight, I'm just a little girl. Lonely. Longing for a man, any man, to just be a father. I have a big hair bow in my hair, a stuffed animal in my hand and I lay down on my Disney Princess comforter and I just cry. Tonight, I don't want sex and I don't want spanking and I don't want to talk. Tonight, I just want to be held and cuddled by a man who could pretend to be my father.

Oh if only Freud had met me!

Lets Get Physical: Guilt and Spankings

I think my brain is different than most people's. Or maybe I just have some crazy disease that no one else has ever heard of!

I am the only person I know who has PHYSICAL things happen when they feel something passionately. Most normal people have physical things happen when they are excited sexually but that's not what I'm talking about here. 

Sometimes when I get really excited about something, I think about it so much that I get a throbbing headache and I have to force myself to calm down.

When I get very, very sad I have pains in my chest. It is not simply my imagination. They are real, painful and very scary chest pains.

I have been to the emergency room and several doctors for it on many different occasions because I have often been afraid I was having a heart attack or something. They ran multiple tests and absolutely nothing is wrong with my heart or my lungs.

I had one doctor tell me it was just a panic attack. But I don't have heavy breathing or panicky feelings or anything like that when it happens so I have trouble believing it's a panic attack. I am simply very sad about something.

Who knows? The point is that I am a PHYSICAL person and I think about thing in PHYSICAL terms and I respond to things better that are PHYSICALLY in front of me.

I think DD greatly appeals to the physical part of me. 

There is something to be said for the physical absolution of it. I am not very good at simply "moving on" from things or just "letting it go." (And saying "not very good at" is an understatement. I completely and utterly suck at it.)

When I get in a fight with one of my friends, after it is over I always want to buy them something or make them something special. It's not good enough for me to say "I'm sorry." I feel like I have to physically show them. I know it's not expected, but I don't ever really feel like it's all over until I do something physical to show it.

My professor was talking about guilt the other day and suddenly it all made sense to me.

I feel guilty. Saying "I'm sorry" isn't enough for me because I still feel rotten inside. I need something physical.

This past weekend I was visiting home and I told my mom about some shoes I reeeeeeeally wanted. She said she could get them for me as a late Christmas present! YAY! I was so excited and looked forward to it all weekend.

Right before we left for the mall my mom said something that frustrated me and I started a long argument with her. When we got in the car to go get the shoes I didn't even want them. I mean I wanted them but I felt so bad inside that I didn't really want them anymore. I told her not to get them for me and that I was sorry I started the argument. She said it was no big deal and she got me the shoes anyways but I just felt so....guilty.

I couldn't understand why I felt that way and I just chalked it up to being some sort of self-sabotaging behavior. I just wanted something physical so I could "feel" more forgiven.

The physicalness of DD is so awesome to me because I can just see how it works. It's a physical thing - a way to tell my brain that it's over, to let it go, to stop thinking about it, to stop saying sorry and to stop feeling guilty.


Love to hear your thoughts as always!
I wish I could PHYSICALLY give you all a hug! :)

How To Get out of A Spanking

I just thought this would help you all out. You know, if you needed an emergency escape plan ;)

Throwing A Fit

Please forgive me!! I promise I am back to blogging! I have a lot of posts in my drafts that just need to be edited and then I will post them! I have so much to tell you all and I really miss you when I'm not here! :)

I told you about that play I was in?! Yeah well it sucked up my whole life! That and I have a huge senior project that all the seniors have to do that I am working on right now...I just want to graduate and be done with it! ugg!! I should be back to blogging more regularly now that the play is over!

Anyways the play was fantastic. I have always, always dreamed about having a lead role. I wanted the whole play to be just about me and then I got it! It was really amazing and it took a lot of time and energy but it was worth every second!

You think I could be satisfied with that right? You think I got everything I ever wanted and I should just be content? Yeah well I thought I would be. But give me an inch...

There is an acting award that two people out of the play get. It ALWAYS ALWAYS goes to the person who got the lead role. That's just how it works. That's the way it has always been. But we got a stupid new professor whom I absolutely loathe and no one told him how it works.

I wanted that award SO BAD. I was already planning what I was going to do when I got it! It would have been the topper to my senior year! It would have been so amazing! And I would have been able to go to a competition! I was soo so excited....

And then today we found out that two underclassman got the award. 

This just happened a few hours ago so I'm still pretty upset.

I feel completely robbed of what was rightfully earned by me! It's totally unfair! I worked so freaking hard for that part and I worked so hard every single night in rehearsal and I don't even get the award?! It's totally unfair. I am a senior!! Those underclassman have so many more chances! It's totally unfair! This professor and I don't get along very well and I swear he picked these other two people because they are his favorites. I hate him so much! 

I know I am a grown up but sometimes I still just really like to throw fits. I know it's horrible and I feel so stupid afterwards, but I still throw them. I try not to but when I had hoped for something so much I just can't handle the disappointment!! I try so hard to be mature but...but sometimes I just want to SCREAM!

The bad thing about throwing fits though is that I have to be the fit thrower AND the calmer downer.

I want to be able to kick and scream and say a whole bunch of completely irrational and unrealistic things. "THIS IS REALLY STUPID! THIS IS TOTALLY UNFAIR! I HATE EVERYTHING! I AM NEVER EVER EVER DOING ANYTHING IN THEATRE EVER AGAIN. GOD NEVER GIVES ME WHAT I WANT. I AM NEVER EVEN TALKING TO THAT STUPID PROFESSOR EVER AGAIN! I HATE EVERYONE!"

I want to say all that. And I want to throw something across the room. And I want to throw a few cuss words in there too. But I want someone else here to respond. I want someone to shake me and say "HEY! Get a hold of yourself. Is this really that important?! When you get to Heaven is God going to only let Irene Ryan nominees in?! When you interview for a job are they going to say 'Hey, have you ever been nominated for an Irene Ryan?'" And then I want him to say "If you don't knock it off, you are going to get a spanking!"

And of course I wouldn't knock it off because I am just so angry. I need to just scream and cry. I need to just let it all out. And I have no mode of getting all this energy out. It's like all this pent up anger and hurt and disappointment and nowhere to put it. It never gets emptied out. 

I have to be my own reason and logic when I don't want to be. Of course I can say all the irrational things I want. But I also have to be the one to come back to myself and say the realistic things and talk myself out of it.


I did text my friend and pretty much say tons of ridiculous, rude unrealistic things. She is a lot older than I am (like by 30 years) and sometimes more like a mom than a friend and so she text back that she thought I was more mature than that.

Yeah well I'm not.

I won't ever get another chance for this. Ever. It's over. You can't get this acting award unless you are in college and I am graduating! And we don't have any more plays that I can be in this year. So it's done! It really sucks.

And I am still throwing a fit about it.