WhyPosted: October 18, 2013
Even in my own mind, theories abound as to why I did it:
Maybe I am hell-bent on self-destruction.
Maybe I have little-to-no self-worth.
Maybe I so need to be dominated that being taken flipped some kind of switch inside me.
Maybe I am trying to minimize what happened.
Maybe I just needed to feel something–anything.
Maybe it’s all of those reasons. Maybe it’s none of them.
Christians would say I’m depraved, and feminists would say I am re-victimizing myself. Friends would say I am just plain unhinged, misogynists would say that this proves that I wanted it, and therapists everywhere would agree I have issues.
But in the end, the reason is simple: Pleasure is worth more than my dignity, and he is the best fuck I’ve ever had.