Monday, July 30, 2012

Mob mentality, Hwayoung, and Competition

I try not to follow Korean celebrity news because it makes me feel like a 13 year old girl, but this news about T-ara and Hwayoung is just too juicy and delicious to resist.



I have first-hand experience dealing with catty Korean females, and it almost irks me to see all the international fans rallying around this controversy because it's so convoluted and difficult to explain, especially if you don't fully understand Korean culture. Why didn't she fight back? Because you just don't. What does age have to do with it? Everything. Who cares about seniority? Everyone.

Mob mentality is addictive, and it makes you feel completely alone, even when you are surrounded.
My therapist last year told me that it's common for girls to fall into it and never escape, even into adulthood. It's alienating and cruel, and yet highly protective within the ranks. Ever since middle school, I've thought that I had rid myself of these behaviors, and yet it happened again in college.

I'm not a competitive person at all. I used to be a perfectionist, but only for myself. It was never about other people. But when I was in a clique in college, I could feel myself always guarding against others, cutting them down, and trying to be "better." My breaking point only came when I got tired of the sexual competition... because that was one aspect I couldn't be a part of.

In any case, when bullying is involved, the clique will disband. I don't know how Hwayoung lasted as long as she did if all the allegations are true... she certainly had it worse than I did.

The pressure to please, to look good, to drink, to flirt, to suck up, to be sexy but not slutty, cute but not annoying, to be smart but not arrogant, to be innocent but not inexperienced, to be pretty but not fake... I thought about going on rampages every day.

"존댓말 안 써?"
"듣기 싫으니까 입닥쳐."
"아잉~ 언니가 최고죠!"
"오빠가 흑기사 해주세요!"
"저 씨발년 뭐래?"
"언니들! 잘 주무셨죠!"
"그렇게 싫다면 네가 나가."
"싸게 굴지마."
"걸레는 걸레들 끼리..."



I hated them so much. But I didn't immediately remove myself from them because I knew I still had power inside the group. And when I did leave, it was a breath of fresh air... with a tinge of "Why couldn't I tough it out?" Why are those girls able to withstand the pressure, but I wasn't?

In sticking with the spanking theme of this blog, I'd say that each and every one of these egotistical little girls deserve to take a group caning until they break, but honestly, they'd make that a competition within themselves as well. Physical violence is becoming the norm.

As for me, I don't want to be end up being a gossiping housewife, or cutting my coworkers down just to get to the top. I don't want to be a bully or a ringleader. But I feel those impulses inside me because it's all I've known of females and female relationships. In particular, I want to get along with Korean girls better... but all of these experiences have made terrible impressions on me. Bad bruises.

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Protect me, rescue me

Season 4 of Mad Men has been so addicting, I can't help but watch 3 or 4 episodes at a time. It really is a character-driven show and I wonder why they all seem more real than the people I actually know.

My favorite episodes thus far have been "The Suitcase" and "The Beautiful Girls" because both showcase Don's fatherly side, his almost reluctant sense of authority and protection of the girls in his life.


I've posted about this before but my whole life, I feel like I've been looking for a father figure. I didn't grow up without a father, but it doesn't mean that he was ever really there for me emotionally. I've desired strict father-figures, the kind who would send you back inside to change because my skirt was too short, the kind who would threaten violence on me for talking back, for worrying him, for doing bad things, for skipping school, for neglecting my work, for breaking the rules. I've needed this person. I crave this person so badly that sometimes I don't even know if I even desire a human person, or if I want the inner core of a ghost, the essence of a caricature. It's not a sexual person, for sure. He sees me as a daughter, a small child needing protection and boundaries and rules.
Spanking falls into this fantasy, of course, but at the same time, it's something totally different.

Who, outside of family, would ever feel that fierce sense of protection towards me? Who would ever want to work that hard to protect me? Who would ever have these feelings about me without leaving me once it became too much to handle?

In many ways, I know this makes me incredibly selfish. I know it. I want all the attention, all the love and protection, completely unconditionally, and yet I don't know what I'd be able to do in return, if I'd even want to do anything in return. I've grown up with an extremely high level of attention from my mother. I didn't really realize this until recently, how self-centered I am. It's a symptom of bulimia. Anything can be romanticized if you make it.


And it never goes away. I've always desired this, always, and now as an adult, I see how it can't be like this because I will never get what I want. But still, I feel that twinge of jealousy when I see TV shows or movies that have that father-daughter theme... of women behaving badly and men who always have a nagging sense of responsibility and duty to protect.


Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Summertime

For the first time in my life, I shaved completely down there. My friend recommended the Noxzema 3-pack, and they were so amazing. For most of my post-adolescent life (and even some of my adolescent life) I've been terrified of shaving down there because I just knew I would nick my clitoris somehow and just die. But finally I've done it, and it looks and feel so amazing. I don't think I'll ever go 70s anymore.

Stoya said that every woman should knows what she looks like down there and love herself for it. I feel like if I've done nothing this summer, I have definitely explored my sexuality.

My ass has taken 2 spankings, and 2 different sized butt plugs. I've touched and played with myself. I've done everything I've wanted to do except for actual sex and actual dating.

I'm not ready for the intimacy that comes with it. I'm very concerned with the idea of possession these days. I'm reading a lot about serial killers. Drinking way too much coffee. Not doing enough yoga. This has been the laziest summer of my whole life.

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Name game

If I were a stripper, what would my name be?
Supposedly, it's pet name+street you grew up on, but I've never owned a pet before and the street I grew up on sounds like a finance company, so I guess I can't be a stripper. Oh well.


Updates about the men in my life:
T, I still chat with occasionally but I don't like the way he pressures me to get naked every time. 
C, I don't chat with anymore because we just mutually drifted apart. Most likely because he also pressured me to get naked and have sex and I said no.
J, I talk to every day. And I really like him. 


So it's really just J. I think from the beginning, I knew it would be J, but still I was hesitant.
We had a talk about trust last night, and the resounding theme of the conversation: "Put your money where your mouth is."
Do I want a top who is nice and safe and easy? Or do I want someone who will be strict and push me? Of course I want a top who will push me. But it's so hard for me to just trust him and say yes and follow him. Because honestly, what if it all just goes to shit?

I have toughened myself up a lot. If it does go to shit, I won't have a meltdown or cry or pretend to care. But that's only because I have begun to brick up a wall. It's about knee-high right now. He says that if he really didn't care, if he just wanted to see some naked girl getting spanked, he wouldn't be talking to me right now. He could just go to spankingtube. And I know that. And still... I don't want to make any of this a big deal so that one day it will all fall to pieces. Because it would just be stupid.

I wish I wasn't so scared of sex and sexuality. I read what girls like Sasha and Stoya say and I love them so much for it. For being so positive and strong and independent and beautiful. And I agree with everything they say. And yet it's so hard for me... to just let go. I don't know what I have to do to be who I want to be.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Punishment therapy

I don't ever want to be the type of person who uses BDSM as therapy, although I know there are inherently therapeutic aspects in this pain-for-pleasure mentality.
But sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be beaten as punishment and as therapy.
I have a lot of self-loathing and guilt issues... will they ever go away?
When I went to T to be spanked for snapping at my mom, I felt dread because I knew it would hurt a lot, and yet I resolved to endure it because I knew it was deserved. And yet in the moment, I wanted desperately for the spanking to stop, for him to slow down, ease up. I almost couldn't take it, even though I wanted to.
The issues I feel most guilty about?
Not treating my mother well. Not helping her enough. Losing my temper with her. Feeling resentment towards my father. Not appreciating everything I have. Feeling irritable with my family. 
I feel like a horrible daughter sometimes. Not just that. For everything. And I want someone to beat the shit out of me for it. 

I can't even really tell what the real underlying reason is. I don't feel worthless like I'm suicidal. I feel worthless sometimes like I need to be punished and made to repent. And knowing what I know about myself, I know that spanking is just one way to deal with those feelings.
But at the same time, I know that spankings give me pleasure, so the purpose is defeated.
Times like these, I kneel and ask myself, or ask God, or ask the universe, how can I punish myself enough to feel good enough? To feel like I can be redeemed again?


Asking for punishment is a practice in indulgence. Punishment is something I crave so that I can feel better about myself. It doesn't change my previous behaviors or actions. In fact, it really doesn't change a thing.

Another intense punishment session? One where the spanker doesn't let up, and he doesn't give in, and I am spanked so hard I pass out? Will that do it? One where I am pushed so way beyond my boundaries in terms of pain that it doesn't bring me an ounce of sexual pleasure?

I've sexualized pain too much. And I've intellectualized it.

I used to cut myself for a variety of reasons, but mostly because of these self-loathing problems. When I was younger, I did it without thinking. As I got older and understood it more, I knew I was doing it because of the release of endorphins. I knew it. I knew it and I would do it in a highly methodical and premeditated way. Because I knew what the outcome would be. So even with the cutting, it was like a pleasurable punishment... and I hate that I know that.

So sometimes I think that the true way for me to feel punished is to be beaten into submission. Not just spanked. I mean, slapped and kicked and punched and yanked and thrown around. Bruised. Scratched. But even that... even THAT exhilarates me. Jesus Christ.

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Brandon, Silas, and Don


The drive coming back from Chicago was strange. I couldn't sleep. I watched miles and miles of farmland pass by, and later, the endless blackness of the highway at night.
Family gatherings are always awkward, and this wasn't any different. For 14 hours, all I did was allow the small child in my brain scribble across the walls of my mind, jump, scream, throw tantrums, and finally, fall asleep in a heap in the corner. After she wore herself out, all I know for certain is that I don't want to end up in a marriage like my parents.
I can't even describe how I feel about my dad. He's unpredictable. My parents would argue in the car about the stupidest things, my dad getting extremely worked up over whatever they're talking about, completely berating my mother, and my mother, first trying to argue back, and then trying to get him to shut up. Either way, I wanted both of them to shut the FUCK up so we could drive in silence. We're a family but we aren't a family. I love them, but I absolutely hate them. That's "normal," I guess. Whatever it is, just shut the fuck up. I need to know myself outside the realm of this house. I need to get out.


I had "Drive" by Incubus playing on repeat on my iPod. I used to do this with songs a lot when I was younger... listen to a song during some period in my life SO damn much that I can't ever listen to them anymore without feeling a horrifyingly clear rush of emotions overwhelm me. This is the reason I can never listen to "Love Song" by 311 ever again. Same thing with "Hailie's Song" by Eminem, and "I Hate Everything About You" by Three Days Grace, the entirety of Christina Aguilera's Stripped album.... I can't list them all. There are just too many. I look it up on Google and I can't find anything like it. How I literally crawl out of my seat and almost start panicking if I hear those songs... because the emotions they arouse are too strong for me to handle. The beginning of "Drive" has that effect on me... but I really wanted to listen to it this week. I don't know why. And now I can't stop.
Side note: I've never liked Brandon Boyd because he just seemed like a pretty boy with a semi-decent voice, but while listening to "Make Yourself" album, I found myself saying things like, "He's so sensitive" and "These lyrics are so deep." LOL. My goodness. I must have been really bored. He's really not that great.


Then my friend tells me how Silas spanks someone in the new episode of "Weeds" this week. Wow. A few years ago, I remember falling in love with him, and fantasizing about him spanking me... At the core, I am a rescuer, and it made me want him even more, knowing how messed up he is.
When I fantasize like that, I'm not even sure it's really about the character... it's more about the idea of him. I wanted the idea of Silas Botwin to spank all his rage out, all that pent-up resentment for Nancy, just unleash on me. And somehow that would also give me release as well. And the spanko writers over at Showtime gave me just what I wanted.


And of course, during the drive I also continue to indulge my "Mad Men" obsession which, in combination with all the emotions involved in dealing with family, listening to Incubus, and feeling hot and bothered about Silas... I just feel a terrible sense of cynicism. About relationships. About trust and love. About intensity and expectation. I watch Don Draper act like the asshole he really is, and even though he's just a character on TV, I think to myself, begging, "Please stop cheating on her. Please make it work with Betty, please."

Now I just feel even more lost.