deza: (Secret master librarians)
Southern Guilt is a strange thing. It's not as prevalent now as it used to be, thank Og. However, my mom never quite left the 1950s, so I grew up with a healthy dose of the Guilt Method of parenting.

A partial list of the things a "nice girl" would never do:
  • Leave the house without lipstick and mascara
  • Go out to dinner without meeting the boy's family (and vice versa)
  • Indulge in risque or offensive speech
  • Enjoy sex with anyone
  • Pass gas in public
  • Allow guests in without having snacks and drinks available
  • Drink alcohol to inebriation
  • Wear a hemline above the knee
  • Sunbathe at a public beach or pool
  • Change clothes where other people could see
  • Kiss anyone other than family or fiance


I was a huge disappointment to my mother when it came to being a nice girl. I dared to work my way through college AND grad school without getting the coveted MRS degree of a trophy wife; 20 years later, she still hasn't forgiven me for that.

Being raised on Southern Guilt left a mark, though. Those early lessons of Nice Girls Don't still cause me problems. The worst ones, the ones that started earliest and were repeated the most often, where the prohibitions on enjoying contact with men.

Thing is, I like men. For a long time now, men have liked me too. I like the way they smell and feel, the sound of deep voices when they laugh, the feeling of being held close and kissed hard. But just when things start to get REALLY interesting...

Southern Guilt rears its ugly head.

Nice Girls Don't.
Don't enjoy.
Don't reciprocate.
Don't encourage.
Don't want.

Nice Girls don't, but I always did. And that internal conflict, being torn between the rules of being a Nice Girl and my own desires, made me miserable for years. I was damned if I did what felt right, damned if I followed the rules.

Then something amazing happened.

A guy I was dating asked how I would feel about being tied up.

Dunno, never done it before, let's try.

And Southern Guilt never appeared.

It was the first time I had sex without being racked with guilt over it. I was helpless. I wasn't responsible for what happened. It was ok to just be IN the moment instead of fretting over what a horrible person I was for enjoying myself.

Over time, things evolved. I explored a lot of the BDSM culture, finding out my own particular tastes and preferences, seeing what works for me and what doesn't.

Whenever I start feeling Southern Guilt creeping back, I still pull out the tie-down harness. I struggle and twist and try to get out and enjoy the things done to me immensely, needing to feel like I'm resisting enjoying myself to be able to truly let go.

It's amazing how being bound makes me feel free.

This has been my entry for Week 1, Season 10 of The Real LJ Idol. Enjoy!
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