my inner little
I’m not a little in that common idea of the term. I don’t like to have huge stuffed animals, outlandish bright colors, big doe eyes, pigtails, and pigeon toes. Heck, that wasn’t how I was as a kid either.
I do get little feelings sometimes, but I’m pretty sure they are normal feelings that are associated into the little identity just because I see it reflected in my friends who ARE littles.
I’d like to have someone to be a parental figure. I’m into having someone who is smarter/wiser/more learned guiding me and molding me. I’ve always wanted to be the best in the class, to catch on the quickest to make my teacher/parents/mentors proud. People who are more intelligent or are wiser turn me on because I want to tap into that and learn from them. I’m an unintentional brown noser and not because I want to be awesome by association, but rather that I hope to learn how to be awesome myself.
I’d like someone who could be a bit of my protector. This post was inspired by a friend’s post about the song “breathe me” by Sia. He said when he feels that the daddy within him ache to hold his girl. Inversely, when I hear that song I ache to be held by someone. To surrender my trust and well being into someone’s hands for a bit. I can’t remember the last time I relaxed into someone’s arms.
Also, I’d like the discipline. I’m not always good at making sure I’m doing the right things. Sometimes it seems like it would be nice to have someone who will correct me when I fuck up.
But while this SOUNDS so nice…
I’m 5′10″, 300lbs, skeptical and I’ve been single for 6 years. That means I’m kinda large and intimidating so I don’t really need protecting and cuddling me is kinda like trying to cuddle a pitbull. I don’t really learn well from other people because half the time when they say something I go home and google it anyway. I’m skeptical about believing things from one source only. Since I’ve been single for so long, i’m ok at being sexual but horrible at being intimate, so cuddling is almost always awkward. Lastly, try telling me what to do will generally get most people ignored or yelled at. I’ve been on my own for too long and have figured out how to make my own decisions.
But the thought is nice.
thought process: bdsm blogs body image daily life feminism health petpeeves privilege thinking
by ammre
4 comments
BDSM in public…
AKA “Why i’m not worried about offending you.”
I’m fat. That’s not going to change. Even if I diet like a fiend and make a huge lifestyle change, I’ll probably never get under 240lbs without some horrible invasive surgery. having said that, something new struck me recently.
I was looking at a picture that compared a girl in a cosplay outfit who was plus size, but not overly so, to another girl playing the same character but who was thin. Both outfits were well done but thinner one was shot in a professional portrait setting, so they probably had a better shot at presenting their costume nicely. The general consensus was that the larger girl was repulsive and should not be out like that. Some people made statements like “whale” or “put her out of her misery”. It seemed as if they were offended by having to look even voluntarily at an image of a large girl, god forbid if they were in the same space as her too!
Then there’s meme roth and all her fat shaming bullshit she’s spewing which is really just a product of our media society. God forbid the fatties live alongside these bastions of thin. As if thin people are never irritating to be near, or never have health problems. God, fat people are made fun of all over, and even if there’s a fat person at a gym they are still made fun of when clearly they are trying to change.
So if simply existing and not being absolutely ashamed of myself, was reason that others are offended, then why should I be so damn worried about offending their delicate sensibilities in other ways?
Combine that with people who simply offend me with no concern… people who talk on the phone (bluetooth headsets in particular) really fucking loud, people who wear perfume that makes me sneeze and have mini asthma attacks, people who wear their pants way too fucking low, people who use homophobic slurs in common language, people who call the entire area of the vulva the vagina, people who sport conservative or stupid bumperstickers, or the ideals behind them… Sarah Palin or Rush Limbaugh… The list goes on.
Mash all these things together and you have an atmosphere where I stop caring if I’m offending you and I jsut start enjoying myself. I’ll still be a good person. I’ll still hold the door for you, tip well, let you cross the street, and other courteous things, but don’t be suprized if I’m wearing my pro-abortion t-shirt while doing it, or if I’ve got a leash on, or my knees tied together and my panties stuffed in my mouth with tape.
I don’t care if my existence offends you.
