I’ve said before that I have a pretty damn fantastic self image. But that wasn’t always the case. In junior high and high school, I had some nasty self-esteem issues, like many teenage girls tend to have. On top of that, my parents never really taught me or my sister about hygiene or house-cleaning or healthy eating habits or anything like that. So I was always the chubby frumpy girl growing up.
Obviously, as I got older, I started taking responsibility for my own life and learning the things I needed to know from other sources. Makeovers from girlfriends and experimenting with friends’ clothing did wonders. By the time I was a senior in high school, I was at least showering daily and doing more to make myself healthy. Losing 40 pounds between my junior and senior year helped, too.
Still, in my late teens, I looked in the mirror and my screwed-up, hormonal teenage brain saw something like this:
I was still chubby, and despite changing my hair and wearing nicer clothes, training your mind to see something different just doesn’t happen overnight. So my last years in high school were fraught with insecurities and the notion that I was ugly.
Luckily for me, though, I have a fabulous personality, and never hurt for friends or boy-toys, despite my supposed hideousness. I guess I just accepted the fact that high school was not my prime, and always assumed that I didn’t blossom physically until I reached adulthood. But today, I was looking through an old journal I had kept during my senior year, I saw some pictures of myself that were taken during that time.
And you know what? I wasn’t bad-looking. Hell, I’d fuck me. The pictures I saw in that ten-year-old journal looked wildly different than the way they did then. Now that I’ve completely gotten past those pesky insecurities, I am finally able to look at myself back then and think, “Damn, what was I so worried about?”
And how different would my life be today if I’d realized that ten years ago, instead of tonight? If I had been able to see myself clearly, rather than through a fog of teenage angst and insecurity, where would I be today?
Don’t get me wrong. I love where I am and have no regrets. I believe that everything happens for a reason, and perhaps taking control of my own life in such a drastic way back then has helped prepare me to take control of another. Maybe having to teach myself discipline and commit to making myself a better person gave me the tools to become a better Domme.
But I’ve always been a Domme, even before I knew what that word meant. Before I even realized that such a thing as BDSM and D/s existed (or that there are entire communities devoted to the lifestyle), control was attractive to me. As a very young child, many of my earliest daydreams revolved around tying boys up and leaving them helpless. As I hit puberty, those daydreams became sexual fantasies. A desire to control others has been a part of me since before I can remember.
I guess that’s why it came so naturally to take control of my own life, as soon as I was old enough to make that decision. My little sister, who certainly does not share my lust for control, has had a more difficult time, and still leans heavily on my parents, and only recently moved into a house, after spending years traveling the country, homeless and playing music on street corners for cash. She still goes dumpster-diving and lives off of food stamps, but at least she’s got a stable job now, so that’s a tremendous improvement, despite the fact that she’s being paid under the table. Still, that’s the lifestyle that makes her happy, and that’s all I care about. I may not agree with some of her life choices, but who the hell am I to judge? I beat my daughter’s father for fun, and am looking to make him watch me have sex with other men. I’m really not in any kind of position to judge the life choices of others.
It’s interesting to note that she never really suffered from that typical teenage-girl anxiety, like I did. I was even jealous of her growing up because she seemed so sure of herself, so confident. But now, I think that’s become the biggest difference between us. I didn’t like what I saw in the mirror, so I took control changed it. She either liked or was indifferent to what she saw, so she had no reason to change.
I guess there really is a reason for everything.