Monday, 23 August 2010

Reassessing The Situation

I'm a wimp. This has been my stance, and my view of myself pretty much since my first months of being out. There are several reasons that this view arose. I think it's partly a defence mechanism. If I state upfront that I'm a wimp, people will go easier on me. I think some of it comes from having watched videos in the early days and thinking that the girls on film were taking more, and taking it much better than I could. Some of it comes from me feeling that I wasn't living up to people's expectations of me, whether this was actually the case or not.
Then I started playing more with other people, and even though I swore blind that I didn't "do competitive bottoming" (and I didn't in the sense that I didn't look down on other people for what they could or couldn't take), I certainly did compare myself to others who played harder than me, or who I believed played harder than me, and found myself wanting.

Then came a period of being very ambivalent about wanting to play. When I came back after this, I obviously had a much lower pain tolerance than previously. Repeat the cycle another six months later, and by this point my perception of myself as a wimp was well and truly fixed in my mind as the absolute truth.

Except people have been telling me that I should maybe review that perception. Or rather they've been telling me to get a grip, because I'm really not a wimp. And when I look at the evidence, they may have a point. Saturday night is a case in point. I was playing with some friends, and had watched several people being caned while I alternated between actually looking and hiding behind a pillow. Then apparently it was my turn... After having voiced my dislike of canes, and preference for all things leather, the kind gentleman proceeded to use various paddles and straps. There was one strap in particular that I happily could have kept going all evening with, or at least at the strength it was being used. Unfortunately, I then heard a swish through the air.
"That's not a cane he's got, is it", I asked the others. Gleefully they all replied that it was. I thought about getting up. After all, I'm a wimp, and I really can't cope with canes. I decided to try one stroke though, and see what happened. I could always stand up if it hurt too much.
The stroke fell. It was OK. I decided to stay down. The next one was OK as well. As were the next two. Five and six were pretty ouchy, but just about bearable. I stood up, quite pleased with myself for not having made much of a fuss. (After all, I have been known to actually dance round the room between strokes...)
I was really surprised when Emma Jane, who had been spotting, told me that she had actually told the person delivering the strokes to up the strength each time, because of how I was taking them, and that by the end they certainly weren't particularly light...

So maybe I'm not a wimp. I took six fairly hard cane strokes, in front of other people, making a minimum of fuss. That's not the behaviour of a wimp, is it? It's actually quite hard to get my head round that. It's been so long that I've thought of myself in this way that to change that idea is something that's going to take time. Also, as long as I play with people who can, and like to play so much harder than I can/do, there will always be a lingering feeling of inadequacy. I recognise how stupid this is. People don't view me as inadequate. They (it seems) view me as someone who plays well, within their own comfort zone. Just because my comfort zone differs to other people does not make my play any less valid, and the only person who really ever thinks that it is is me. Even if my own comfort zone differs depending on time of month/emotional state/recent play, it *still* shouldn't matter to me. I shouldn't compete with others, I shouldn't compete with myself.

It's time to reassess the situation, to stop branding myself a wimp at every opportunity, to recognise that I can actually take a half decent whacking, but that even if I couldn't it wouldn't actually matter. So anyone who hears me call myself a wimp, feel free to call me on it!

6 comments:

Haron said...

Halleluja! Finally you recognise what's perfectly clear to anybody who's ever played with you, that you're in no way a wimp.

Next time you call yourself a wimp, you will be teased mercilessly until you *beg*. There.

indy said...

I completely agree with Haron.

But it's awfully cute when you try to disguise your non-wimpiness with little squeals and protestations that you can't take more than one. Well, maybe another. Oh, alright, maybe one more, yeah, go on another....

bandree said...

If you EVER AGAIN call yourself a wimp, you wil be very sternly reprimanded. With proof that you're not...

Caroline Grey said...

Smart cookie. :) I've always said you weren't a wimp!

Rebranding can be hard! I sort of had the opposite problem. When I started I was the most competitive, "hit me as hard as you can" kind of girl, and I burned out! I think you've always doen a great job of knowing, and then slowly testing, your own limits. Like I said, smart cookie.

Jen said...

Everybody's tolerance levels change from time to time. Especially when you first get into the scene you don't have a lot to judge things by, so it's easy to assume that you don' take anywhere near what other people do. At my first ever party I hadn't been spanked by anybody as an adult, except for myself, until that day, and I found myself trying EVERYTHING, including the HEAVY cane. The guy took it easy on me, only gave me four strokes, but they were so amazingly wonderful that I had no problem taking them. At my second party we did a session that was far too long, but my reputation as an Iron Butt was pretty well solidified. LOL

Eliane said...

Eventually I get round to responding to comments...! Thank you so much to every for adding in your tuppence worth. I think Jen makes a good point that it is very easy for a reputation to be solidified early, and to not really change. I think my problem was it got solidified in my own head! It will change eventually, though.