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Middle School Wisdom As It Applies to BDSM

March 14th, 2016

Most of the things I learned in middle school didn’t sink in until I was an adult. Like when Mom repeatedly pointed out that if I kept things semi-organized, my day would go a lot smoother, or when Dad told us, over and over, that if we did things the right way the first time, we wouldn’t have to stop doing something fun to do them again later.

When I was a kid, me and my dad used to butt heads a lot. A LOT. I was a budding feminist, you see, and my dad is a good ol’ boy from Texas.

I actually feel kind of bad for referring to him that way. He means well. We just don’t see eye to eye on a lot of things, and especially most things political.

I can’t say for sure, but I think he’ll vote blue if the GOP puts Trump up as their nominee, so I guess there’s that.

That’s not to say that my dad’s a misogynist. He’s not. He thinks women can do anything they put their mind to, and always supported me in everything I did (except dating my ex, and being a teen mom, but turns out, he was right about both of those things, so I can’t be too mad at him).

He often tested my 90s teenager feminist wisdom with questions like, “How do you feel about the draft? Is it okay that men are required to sign up and women aren’t?” (No. It isn’t.) I’d mistake his tests for disagreement, convinced he just didn’t “get it,” and get really frustrated.

But the place we butted heads the most was things my teenaged self believed, wholeheartedly, were rights. Stupid things, like staying out past 10 on a school night, and not telling my parents who I was going out with, and doing stupid kid stuff that stupid kids do without my parents being up my ass the whole time.

Dad is very much a “need to know” kinda guy. It comes from working in national security and military intelligence, I’m sure. And not just because those branches of our government tend to hold things close to the breast, but also because in those branches, information has to be passed quickly, so less important or irrelevant information is skipped over.

I’m the ultimate why child. I need to know why you want me to do things your way. If you don’t tell me why, I deem it unnecessary or unimportant, and I do things my way. So you can imagine how well it went when he responded to my requests for more information with, “You don’t need to know that. Just do as you’re told.”

I would respond by doing whatever the fuck I wanted. Usually, that included going directly against whatever it was he told me to do. It didn’t occur to me that he’s the parent, and I’m the child, and he definitely knows better than me what kind of trouble I could get up to if I didn’t follow his rules. Ultimately, he was protecting me.

Fast forward a few years. I’m 22, and I’m in an owner/property relationship. And my owner gives me these rules that I hate. I think they’re silly. I ignore the fact that he’s the boss, and I promised to follow his rules whether I liked them or not. I do whatever the fuck I want, and shit goes sideways.

Turns out, M’s rules weren’t silly1. Ultimately, he was protecting me. And I didn’t need to know why. I just needed to know the rules.

Damn it. Dad was right again.

1. Not that it matters. If he wants, he can give me completely arbitrary rules (and has) just for the fuck of it, and I’m supposed to follow them. I feel like that goes without saying, but now I’ve said it. So there.

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