Thought it needed to get out, I can’t very well leave that last post at the top of the page. It’s far too melodramatic for a level headed girl like the girl I aspire to be. 

I have had a lot of aspirations in the past, and given my impulsive nature, those aspirations change quite frequently. But I’m getting on in years now. Adolesence is soon to be completely behind me. It’s hard to believe that in a few months’ time, I will be 27 years old. 

When I was younger, I felt the weight of being much more mature than my age, but now, I feel the weight of being further behind than I thought I would be at this point in my life. By now, I thought I’d have a family and a kid, and at least a master’s degree.

When I was in college, I thought I’d move to Cambridge and live in a little apartment until grad school was over. And then, when the Real Job came along and I had a husband and some kidlets, I thought maybe we’d live in Belmont, close to the temple, and live out our perfect little Mormon Life. 

I thought by then, I’d have worked out all the doubts and the hurdles to faith, and I’d feel this closeness to God that only a righteous husband and quiver full of kids could provide me. 

And then, reality hit. 

I had the nervous breakdown, which was really inevitable, given my lack of medical attention. I went into hiding and tried to find myself. And I thought that I had. I thought I knew what I wanted to do and who I wanted to be. 

So, I got back into school, kicked some academic ass, and was almost done. One year left. But instead of focusing on finishing school, I took a promotion and got engaged. 

I kept the promotion, ditched the fiance, took another promotion, and then dropped out of school again. 

And for a bit, even without school, I was insufferably happy. I had a full social calendar, even without a fulltime relationship. I was doing well professionally, though frustrated by circumstance. I found spanking, and this whole new world opened up to me.

God, I loved it. I loved (and do love) everything about it. I love the vulnerability. I love the sensation. The anticipation. The pain. The surrender. 

I’ve come along way from never having been spanked. I’ve tried a lot of things that I really like, and I’ve learned along the way some things that don’t work for me. And it’s okay that they don’t work for me. 

Rules, for example. I don’t think they work for me. At least not the highly specific lists of thou shalts and thou shalt nots. I thought they did, but they don’t. They don’t help me reach my goals. They just make me feel frustrated at lack of progress. 

I still think I like DD, and the idea of punishment spankings hit all the right buttons, but  I think I need more of a loosely outlined set of goals than a stifling, detailed list. 

And it’s okay that I was wrong. It’s more important that I become who I want to be than who I thought I had to be. 

I might not end up with that white picket fence in Belmont, but that’s okay, because that’s not who I am anymore. 

But can I still have the paddle, please?