julietsierra
Posts: 1841
Joined: 9/26/2004
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Ok... Let me tell you the deep dark secrets of my life. How my life was irrepairably set even before I had enough knowledge of the world to prepare myself or choose another path.
*sigh* this is so hard, y'know?
I am the first child of two parents who met in college. They had three coffee dates. (A coffee date is when you make plans to meet at the student union for a cup of coffee because on a student's budget, that's all you can afford.)
On the second coffee date, the man who would eventually help to create me said "people who marry ae insecure people looking to make the women they marry replacements for their mothers." The woman who would help to create me just smiled and talked about something else. On the third coffee date, he asked her to marry him and she accepted.
They were married in July, 1959. They had their wedding over the fourth of July weekend so that they could be back in school on Monday. They had no where to live other than their respective dormitory and fraternity house.
Nine months later (to the day) they had me. They took 6 obligatory weeks off of things and then on their first time together after the birth of me, created my brother. Waited a couple of months before creating my sister following his birth. So, by the time my sister was born, they had three children, all under the age of two.
By the time I was four, they'd built their own house. It was the house I grew up in. My childhood was idyllic (I know! The horror! The drama!). My summer days were filled with swimming in the canal behind our house, playing in the fields, and the woods by our house, and fishing in the ponds. During the winter months, we replaced ice skating for swimming and life was, I hate to say, WONDERFUL.
My parents, were fond of grabbing each other for mind-melting kisses - whether we were in attendance or not, even when we said "ewwwwww!" There was a lot of laughter in our house (And you KNOW how debilitating laughter can be!). There was a lot of love and there was a lot of pure unmitigated fun.
As I was growing up, I was my father's favorite child. He didn't favor me over the others because I was his first-born. He did so because we are just alike. Coincidentally, if you ask my brother, he'll say HE was my father's favorite child because he and my father liked all the same things (hunting, fishing, boating, etc). And if you ask my sister, she'll say SHE was his favorite because she was level headed and did the things he wanted her to do when he wanted her to do them.
My mother was a different story. She was very different from me. We didn't see eye to eye (wait...that's because she was about 6 inches shorter than I was). At any rate, she didn't see things the way I did on a number of levels. Even so, the great soul killer that she is, she never told me that my ideas and perceptions were wrong. She just presented me with opportunities to think about what I was saying. She asked me questions. She made me think!! (The meanie!! I was traumatized I tell ya!)
On top of this, I had four grandparents who loved their grandchildren very much. My grandmother was my best friend till the day she passed away. My grandfather played a close second in friendship with me to my grandmother. Oh, yea... I should mention them. They were married when my grandmother was a minor. They had to elope and for over 60 years, were devoted to each other. My grandfather was suffering the first effects of alzheimers, yet, for some reason, while he couldn't remember where he put his keys or what his name was sometimes, he always knew how to take care of my grandmother after her stroke, and never put her in a nursing home. In his eyes, for better or for worse meant exactly that and he sure as hell wasn't going to fall down on his vows.
But anyway, back to the traumatic childhood that was mine.
My parents have now been married for 49 years. This July, they'll celebrate 50. My mother still listens to phone messages from my father over and over again when he calls home for some reason and tells her he loves her. My mother is fiercely protective of my father and no one is allowed to say negative things to or about my father. He had polio as a child and no longer walks well. She is his legs while he continues to do as much as he possibly can every day.
My parents are people I'd genuinely like even if they weren't my parents. The trauma of living right and coming from a loving home have contributed immensely to the person I've become as an adult. I presume this also means this lifestyle.
You see, to me, this isn't an abberation. This is how I live my life. It's what makes me happy. It's what fulfills me. I've spent my entire life being excited to run to get my father a cup of coffee when he wanted one. I've spent my entire childhood in idyllic pleasure. I simply see no reason for having to live my adult life without idyllic pleasure as well. This does it for me.
And while the "trauma" I've experienced does not fit into your idealized view of bdsm as somehow being the fare of the broken people out there, it does fit my views of people being who they are without someone else making them out to be somehow in need of "fixing."
Hope this helps.
juliet
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