It has been quite a while since either one of us wrote a personal entry (outside of some tidbits here and there on the Five Things posts), so we’ve decided to write one this week to mix things up a bit.  Besides, this is something that I (Clint) have wanted to get off my chest for a while now, for a couple of reasons. One, I think it’s a story a lot of people will be able to relate to, particularly the anti-domestic discipline crowd.  Two, I want to share how the whole DD lifestyle came about for us.  I’ve recently gotten the impression that there are some who believe we’ve always been supportive and “on-board” with domestic discipline, which is not accurate.  Allow me to explain.

My wife and I were introduced to the concept of domestic discipline in 2007.  A friend of mine brought it up to me.  I don’t recall exactly how it came up — I believe I was venting to him about some things my wife (girlfriend at the time) was doing (or not doing) that was causing me a lot of stress and frustration.  Chels and I had only been dating for a few months at this point, so we were still learning about one another and getting comfortable with the way each other “worked.”

Long story short, after listening to my friend explain it, I thought the whole concept of domestic discipline was ridiculous.  I hated it from the moment I heard about it.  My friend did a great job of explaining it all to me and answering my barrage of questions, but like many who first hear of domestic discipline, I jumped to the conclusion that it was abuse, and that it was some kind of BDSM kinky nonsense that I wanted no part of.  Frankly I thought it was stupid and there was no way on earth I was going to boss my girlfriend around and “abuse” her.  That isn’t how a healthy relationship works at all.

The first chance I got I told Chelsea about it.  “Honey, wait ’til you hear THIS!”  She had the same reaction I did.  We mocked the whole concept.  For hours we’d laugh and laugh and laugh about how stupid and ridiculous this was.  “My dinner better be on the table by 7:00pm woman, or you’re going to get it!”  I’d say, with a deep sarcastic tone.  She’d laugh.  I’d laugh.  That’s how we dealt with things we didn’t understand.  Just make fun of it.  So we did, and we did a lot.

I was raised to never strike a woman for any reason.  That’s something my parents instilled within me since I knew that “hitting” was a thing.  Never ever hit a woman.  Ever.  In fact, don’t ever hit anyone.  “Violence is not the way to solve problems,” my parents told me.  Over and over and over again, that’s what I was taught growing up.  You don’t hit a woman.  You just don’t do it.  Period.

So I didn’t.  And, as you can imagine, domestic discipline went against what I was taught by my parents.  You don’t hit women.  That’s just the way it is.  When my friend mentioned that domestic discipline included spanking women, I disregarded it right then and there.  Spanking, in my book, was “hitting.”  My overall thoughts of my friend didn’t change too much, but it’s hard not to have thoughts of, “Wow, he’s kind of an a-hole,” or, “I guess it turns out my friend is a bit of a pervert,” run through your mind.  He was still my friend and I still cared about him dearly, but those thoughts DID cross my mind a time or two.  How could they not?  This was very strange to me, and, like I said, I thought it was an asinine concept.

For weeks I didn’t give it much of a second thought (other than mocking it from time to time), until I spoke to my friend again.  He asked if I had given it any more thought – any more serious thought, that is – to which I informed him that I hadn’t.  He asked why, and since I’m not one to mince words, I told him.  I told him exactly what I thought.  And he laughed at me.  He understood, but he laughed.  He knew I just didn’t “get it.”

  We started talking about it again.  I was still pretty close-minded to the whole thing, but I listened.  He was a man I respected after all, and he was my friend, so his thoughts and opinions carried weight and mattered to me.  I heard him out and really tried to gain a better understanding of why in the world anyone would ever want to live this way.

  This conversation lasted a couple of hours, and by the time it was over, I had a better understanding of domestic discipline.  The picture he painted of it, and the way he explained that he and his wife practiced it, was nothing like what my “conclusions” about the lifestyle had been.  He was talking about care and respect, trust and communication, love and intimacy, protection and leadership.  Not sex and perversion, kink and foreplay, abuse and domination, tyranny and bigotry.  My short-minded preconceived notions of the lifestyle were WAY off, and, after this multiple hour conversation, the light bulb in my brain was starting to flicker.

  Domestic discipline still wasn’t something I could ever see Chels and I doing, but I was starting to understand why others would practice it.  Things were starting to make sense to me.  You don’t spank to get your sexual kicks.  You don’t spank to be a controlling jerk.  You spank to protect, guide, and lead.  I was “getting it.”

  I talked to Chels about it some more, and I was a little more accepting of the concept this time, although not accepting enough to seriously consider practicing.  I was just accepting enough to look a little more into it.  Chels and I both started researching domestic discipline, and the first place we looked was online, naturally.  What a terrible idea.

  After our virtual tour through Pervert City, we put a stop to our “research.”  The Tour-de-Porn was quite lovely and all (not really), but clearly this lifestyle wasn’t for us.  Evidently my friend conveniently left that part out when explaining domestic discipline to me.

Oh great,” he said.  “You looked online.  Yeah..I probably should have warned you about that.

Probably.  Thanks.

  He reassured me that kind of thing wasn’t what living the lifestyle was all about.  He said it was a sexual thing for some, but not for he and his wife.  He, once again, explained how he and his wife practiced domestic discipline, and assured me that it wasn’t sexual in nature at all.  He talked about all the great benefits he and his wife had experienced since starting with the lifestyle, and how he couldn’t imagine his marriage without it now.  Hmm.  Maybe there was something to this “crazy” lifestyle.  A man I had come to respect a great deal wouldn’t talk to me about something so passionately if he didn’t think it would help me and Chelsea.  That much I knew for a fact.

  So, yet again, Chels and I talked about this for hours.  Maybe it was worth a shot.  What’s the worst that could happen?  We figured we could try it for a while, I’d probably spank Chels once or twice, and if we hated it, then we’d stop.  No big deal.  Right? 

  After working through a lot of hesitations and concerns, we mutually decided to give it a shot.  Chels was more adamant about trying it than I was, but we figured we had virtually nothing to lose, and from the sound of it, everything to gain.  So we started practicing domestic discipline.  The rest, as they say, is history.  We haven’t looked back since.

  I wanted to write my story of first learning of domestic discipline to illustrate to those so vehemently against the lifestyle that I know EXACTLY how they feel.  I know exactly how they feel because I’ve been there before. 

  At one point in my life, I thought domestic discipline was abuse too.  At one point in my life, I thought domestic discipline was some sort of term couples used to mask their kinky desires too.  At one point in my life, I thought it was some sort of cover for Christians to get their sexual kicks without feeling guilty about it too.  I’ve been there before.  I’ve thought that before.  I truly know exactly what it’s like to have those thoughts and feelings. 

Well, I’m here to tell you that I was wrong.  I was very, very wrong.

Domestic discipline, when lived and practiced correctly, is a beautiful thing for a relationship.  I’m not going to go into the reasons why I feel that way in this blog entry since they’re already written about all over this blog (if you’d like links to those posts, please ask in the comments).  I don’t know if this entry will make those against domestic discipline feel any better about it, and frankly I don’t really care.  For a lot of people once their mind is made up, it’s made up.  And that’s fine.  But I tell you what — it felt good to write this post and I’m glad that I did.

  If you’re against domestic discipline, I just want you to know that I was too once upon a time.  And I wasn’t just against it, I thought it was flat out disgusting.  I was appalled by it.  I thought it was just as outrageous as you probably do.  But I didn’t understand it.  I jumped to a conclusion about it without learning or understanding what it was.  I heard “spank your wife” and immediately wrote it off as abuse without giving it a second thought, or a legitimate chance.  Again, I was wrong.  I was downright ignorant, and I hate that I judged something so quickly without fully understanding it.  Looking back on it, it’s really embarrassing and rather shameful that I was THAT close-minded toward a concept I’d never heard of before and knew nothing about.

I won’t be making that mistake again.

– Clint

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