Pages

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Sick-Fil-A


Chick-fil-A's homophobia doesn’t really surprise, nor does it necessarily bother me. Companies donate their money and build their products wherever and however they want all the time. If I was going to boycott CFA I’d have to boycott lots of other things, like gasoline and tennis shoes.

What surprises and frustrates me, are all the people that are using this as an opportunity to spread hatred. Wh
ether you agree or disagree with chick-fil-a and their choices, it makes no difference. They will go on spending their money how they please. By declaring a "chick-fil-a Wednesday" you are not supporting anything or anyone, you are simply seizing an opportunity to express hatred towards an entire group of people.

I'll be staying as far away from Chick-Fil-A as possible tomorrow. Not because I dislike their menu or their business model, but because I can't stomach the idea of hundreds of people getting together to celebrate homophobia over chicken and fries.

Monday, July 30, 2012

Still Crying: Power Over Memories

This post is from an anonymous reader. It is another testament to the sexual repercussions of corporal punishment.
__________________________________________________________________

I'm convinced my parents didn't know any better. When they grew up, they were beaten with rubber hoses. Hitting kids with hands or spoons or belts probably seemed kind by comparison.


I was always sensitive. All I needed was for my parents to tell me they were disappointed in me. I didn't need to be hit on top of it. Worse than the pain was the sheer humiliation of being hit, and the feeling of being powerless to stop it.


This is most likely why, around age 8 or so, I began having sexual fantasies involving being spanked. My adult sexuality has revolved around giving and taking power. I believe sexualizing it was a way for me to gain control-- "You're hurting me? Humiliating me? Joke's on you; I like it!"


My mom found out when I was in my early 20s. When she asked why, I told her. "We didn't spank you *that* much," she protested tearfully. "Why do you remember all the bad things and none of the good?"


In college (before I became aware that spanking wasn't an inherent part of childhood) I decided I could never have kids, because spanking to me was an purely sexual act. I never did have kids, although the reasons were numerous and not limited to my fear of sexually abusing them. That was not an idle fear, though, and I didn't want to have to choose between my sexuality and harming my children.


Would I have been this way if I hadn't been spanked? I don't know. It is what it is, and while I enjoy a happy sex life this way, it wasn't worth the abuse.

(Please show your support and leave comments for the authors if you can. Remember, this is an open ended series! Please consider writing something yourself, or sharing the project with your friends and followers. The guidelines are listed here, but feel free to write in whatever format is easiest for you)

Friday, July 27, 2012

Still Crying: Sexuality Tied To Violence

This post is from an anoymous reader.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________

The thought of spanking simultaneously disgusts me and arouses me. Yes, I mean sexual arousal.

I had never seen porn, I had no idea that some people felt spanking could be used in erotic ways during sex. But as I started to cross into puberty, those thoughts were there.

When my parents spanked me I detested the sharp pain, the sting on my skin, the humiliation of being still while being attacked. I hated it. I wished with all my might that they would quit using spanking and try some other form of discipline. I stifled the rage that rose with every physical punishment.

But at night it was different. My dreams would be filled with violence, people hitting me, people tying me up and whipping me, and then I would wake up panting and aroused, and at the time I didn’t even know what sex or sexual arousal was.

I didn’t know why the idea of being hit was arousing, when I detested the fact that my parents hit me. But I learned how to play off that fantasy to get those feelings, I imagined being out somewhere and being attacked and raped. When I got married, to a wonderful gentle man, those unspoken unacknowledged fantasies in my head were the only thing that got me to orgasm.

I felt confused and worried, perplexed by the strong connection my sexual arousal had to the idea of violence when I was repulsed by the idea of my husband actually hitting me. It frustrated me that something that was used to hurt and humiliate me for so long, that I thought I would leave behind with leaving my parents home, now invaded my sex life unbidden.

I have since learned that children can often eroticize things that were painful to endure as a way of coping, and I believe that is what happened to me. And is it really that surprising that hitting a person in a sexually sensitive area of their body could have consequences? As time has gone on, and I have been honest about what happened to me, it has become easier to become experience sexual pleasure without the need for violent fantasies, but it hasn’t been easy. My earliest sexual memories will always be tied to a spanking spoon, and there isn’t anything I can do about it.

(Please show your support and leave comments for the authors if you can. Remember, this is an open ended series! Please consider writing something yourself, or sharing the project with your friends and followers. The guidelines are listed here, but feel free to write in whatever format is easiest for you.)

Still Crying: Spanking and it's affect on sexuality

I recently posted a rather controversial status on Facebook. It received so much traffic and debate that I've decided to re post it here for easy sharing, linking, tweeting, etc. This serves at an introduction to the following posts from readers on this exact subject:
 
A person's rear end is an erogenous zone. When you strike a child there (spanking), blood rushes to the area and stimulates the genitals. It isn't something you would notice, because the arousal is masked by the pain. But subconsciously, the child's brain is linking sexual arousal with violence, powerlessness, and pain. I have spoken with dozens of people who have experienced this connection between sexuality and violence well into their adult lives due to spanking. A parent's choice to spank their child can literally follow that child into the most intimate parts of their lives. Has anyone else experienced these consequences? So far I have 2 anonymous submissions on this delicate subject to my Still Crying Series. If you have been affected in this way, YOU ARE NOT ALONE. Please contact me if you would like to share your experience as well. This is an effect of spanking that nobody ever talks about, but i suspect that it is a lot more common than anyone thinks.
_____________________________________________________________________
UPDATE: I recieved dozens of emails in response to this status from readers who knew exactly what I was talking about. My inbox was full of little notes from people who have experienced sexual damage as a result of thier parent's choice to spank. This note came from a reader named Maria.
"Sarah, your status today sums up why I have not contributed to your series. That is the best summary I have ever heard of the twisted relationship between corporal punishment and sex.... It is just too triggering and the feelings are too intense, for me to be able to write a meaningful contribution. I am fifty years old, and my father has been dead since I was seventeen. That is how deep these wounds can go -- that I still can't talk about it. Maybe you can use this comment as a short contribution... Thanks for doing this. It is important work."

Some of the people who have contacted me have asked to be put in contact with other victims like them. It can be pretty lonely when you feel like you can't talk to anyone about your experiences. If anyone is interested in contacting other people with similar experiences, just email me at whoiamwithoutyou1@gmail.com and I will do my best to help you out.

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Still Crying: Is It Any Wonder?

This post is from a reader named Brooke L. M. Stage. Thank you Brooke!
____________________________________________________________________


The worst part was that I was convinced I deserved it. I knew in my heart that I was such a wicked child that I deserved to have pain inflicted upon me, and so even as I cried out in pain with each slap of the belt or the wooden spoon, I felt guilty – guilty for wishing the pain would stop. A precocious child who made a public profession of faith at the age of 4, I firmly believed every word of the Bible verses I was forced to read aloud before and after my punishment sessions, verses like “Foolishness is bound in the heart of a child, but the rod of correction shall drive it far from him” (Proverbs 22:15). I would try to focus on feeling remorseful, but then another blow would come, and the part of me that was, well, human would think, “Hey! That hurt!” So then I would silently beg God's forgiveness for not accepting my punishment with my whole heart, and all the while the spanking would continue. Is it any wonder that I struggled to understand the concept of grace as taught in the New Testament, when my only experience of sin and redemption was exclusively Old Testament? Is it any wonder that as an adult, I have found it difficult to feel forgiven unless I have first been punished?  

(Please show your support and leave comments for the authors if you can. Remember, this is an open ended series! Please consider writing something yourself, or sharing the project with your friends and followers. The guidelines are listed here, but feel free to write in whatever format is easiest for you.)

Monday, July 23, 2012

Still Crying: How Do I Remember Them?

This post is from Melissa of Permission To Live.
____________________________________________________________________
How do I remember them?

I remember my Mom making me my birthday cake. She taught me how to do a back bend and how to brush all the knots out of my hair. Sometimes she sang “Home home on the range” and sometimes when she was happy she danced a goofy little dance. I remember watching my Mom curl her bangs with a hot curling iron and put on blue eyeliner with a little pencil.
I also remember her hitting my bare skin with a flexible switch from the magnolia tree. She taught me that I was wrong, and she was right and that I had no power, no right to protect myself from harm. Sometimes she made me hold up my own skirt while she spanked me, sometimes if I moved she hit me again. I remember watching my mom break an orange spatula on my sister’s bottom.

How do I remember them?

I remember my Dad making us omelets on the weekends. He taught me how to tie a knot and let me watch while he changed a tire. Sometimes he gave us a piggyback ride up the stairs to bed and sometimes he got out crackers and spreadable cheese and shared it with us. I remember watching Dad kiss my mom in the hall and bring her flowers for no reason other than he loved her.
I also remember his calm cold voice as he told me I must bend over and touch my toes and hold perfectly still while he spanked me. He taught me that he was bigger and stronger and more powerful than me and that I deserved to be hit when I made mistakes. Sometimes he squeezed my arm really hard to hold me in place while he hit me, sometimes he made me hug him afterwards. I remember hearing him spank my sibling again and again and wishing they would just say what they were supposed to say already, because I knew my dad would never “let them win”.

How do I remember them?

I know my parents love me. I know they did good things for me. I know they worked hard to care for me and provide for me. I know it doesn’t seem like that big of a deal to them. I was just a child after all, and what child enjoys being punished? I sometimes wish I could forget the bad, but I can’t help the way my back tenses if they use that tone of voice. I can’t help feeling somewhat panicky whenever they don’t agree with me. I can’t help but worry about leaving my kids with them. I can’t change the many memories of conflict, I can’t erase the fact that they are the ones that hit me for the first 16 years of my life. I can’t change how wrong and bad they made me feel.  And I can’t change the fact that they don’t think it was a problem.

(Please show your support and leave comments for the authors if you can. Remember, this is an open ended series! Please consider writing something yourself, or sharing the project with your friends and followers. The guidelines are listed here, but feel free to write in whatever format is easiest for you.)

Friday, July 20, 2012

Still Crying: Survivor's Guilt

This post is from Mrs. Searching of Following On To Know. This one is particularly poinient for those of us who are big brothers or sisters. Thank you Mrs. Searching!
_______________________________________________________________________

I am not going to tell my own spanking story, because for me personally, it wasn't the spankings that really hurt. It was the whole "evil childhood" mentality that went along with it, leaving me a perpetual child, incapable of making necessary decisions or standing up for myself for many years after I was legally "grown up."

When I remember spankings, I remember my 3rd brother. I remember standing outside my parents' bedroom door, enraged at the length of his punishment, my heart ripped in two by the wails and desperate pleas for forgiveness, and the unrelenting blows of my mom's forsythia switch. To this day he has masses of tiny splinters permanently imbedded in his thighs. I would try to mentally will it to stop, the rage building until I wasn't sure whether I was trying harder to muster the courage to run in and disable her by any means necessary, or to stop myself from doing so.

I had nightmares about those whippings. They were a big part of the reason I left home. I was afraid I would attack my mother. I don't know why she picked on him. A personality thing, no doubt. He was always in trouble. After I had been gone a while, the nightmares subsided. But whenever I am angry with her for something, they come back. They aren't always about spankings, but they are always about harsh, unreasonable, and unforgiving acts from her. I wake up frightened and angry, and feeling guilty for no reason.

And my brother still suffers. I see it in his borderline violent, intolerant behavior towards anyone who crosses him in even the most minor way. He cannot disagree peaceably with someone. His backlash against this distorted upbringing has been to reject the matriarchal structure of our family for the equally damaging patriarchal one that is more popular; I presume because it puts him in charge, thus making him feel safer. I pray that changes. He is still young. I don't want him to pass that damage on; but it's not really a subject I can broach with him. These endless punishments prevented me from building a relationship with him, because I felt so guilty for being unable to protect him. I just hope that love will triumph in the end.

(Please show your support and leave comments for the authors if you can. Remember, this is an open ended series! Please consider writing something yourself, or sharing the project with your friends and followers. The guidelines are listed here, but feel free to write in whatever format is easiest for you.)

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Still Crying: Why Spanking is Harmful

This post is by a reader called Conundrum #5. Thank you Conundrum!
___________________________________________________________________
I would like to think I wasn't beaten for every infraction, but it is difficult for me to be sure in the aftermath of having a leather belt angrily applied to my bare bottom on a regular basis until I was 16 years old. The irony is being liked and approved of has always been my deepest desire. It would have been enough for my mother to have told me she was disappointed in me for me to see the error of my ways.
Because of my sensitivity, whippings left deep emotional scars. I learned to walk on eggshells around Mom. I learned not to act or think independently, because if my opinions or actions were displeasing to my mother, I could be whipped, no matter what my intentions may have been. As an adult, this hampered my ability to take initiative until very recently. I still struggle, but understanding where my struggle comes from has allowed me to get a handle on it.
The effect that most grieves me is that as an adult, my go-to response to a child misbehaving is the thought that they need a “good whipping” to teach them how to behave. In spite of what non-spanking parents (some of whom I know personally) have written about their kids, I am not convinced children can learn to behave without being spanked...which is why I am very glad I do not have children. I have tried to temper my “spanking habit” by saying I would only spank as long as the child was in the single digits, or by saying I would never spank while angry, but I don't trust myself. My not being a parent is a much safer solution.

(Please show your support and leave comments for the authors if you can. Remember, this is an open ended series! Please consider writing something yourself, or sharing the project with your friends and followers. The guidelines are listed here, but feel free to write in whatever format is easiest for you.)

Monday, July 16, 2012

Still Crying: Dear Mom

This piece is from Yukimi. Many of us know her through blogger, she always leaves encouraging comments! Thank you so much for your brave words Yukimi!
___________________________________________________________________

Mom,

I still remember when you looked at me with incredulity and perhaps a bit of remorse after I naively asked why you were spanking us everyday all the time. You said that wasn't true and I don't know if I said it out loud or just thought, because my memory of my childhood is pretty vague, that you had spanked us several times that day and the day before and the day before that and so on. You didn't beat us (except once when I was a teenager) but you made us completely scared of you. I still am.

My father, who you despise for the awful way he treated all of us, has apologized to me for it and for placing a big burden on me when I was little for being the eldest but I can't even bring anything negative about you without you getting all defensive and shutting the conversation telling me how much you sacrificed for me or how much worse my father is. I thought people did things for their kids because they loved them, not to use it as leverage with their children.

Now I'm an adult in most practical senses but I still drag all the baggage of our dysfunctional relationship. I have a depressingly low self-esteem, I have a compulsive need of being accepted (which usually makes people run for the hills), I cannot even entertain the idea of disappointing you (which ironically has driven me to a point of being about to academically fail university) and I don't know if I will be ever love you the same or be able to relate to you anymore which it's a pity because you and I are so alike in so many things.

If I have children, I don't want to spank them, I want to listen to them. Their motives might seem silly to adults but they are human beings and they have feelings and when you mock them they suffer. You have already told me that you don't want to baby-sit my kids ever, well at least for now I'll take you on that. Perhaps in the future I'll be stronger to tell you this in person and perhaps then you'll actually listen to me.

Yukimi


(Please show your support and leave comments for the authors if you can. Remember, this is an open ended series! Please consider writing something yourself, or sharing the project with your friends and followers. The guidelines are listed here, but feel free to write in whatever format is easiest for you.)

Friday, July 13, 2012

Still Crying: GIRL

This piece is from a reader named Ona Courtright. This one moved me to tears. Thank you Ona.
_______________________________________________________________________

Pants up
Pants down
Underpants on
No underpants at all
Wooden spoon
Leather flyswatter
Hand
Switch
Belt
Angry
Deliberate
While yelling
While silent
In public
In private
With explanation
No explaining at all

Two swats
Four swats
Six swats
Eight, or more

These are the ways you broke my heart
Stunted my spirit
Bruised my body
Because (in the name of Jesus) and for my own good, it hurt you more than me?

I doubt your pain continues,
28 years past,
since the time I took the switch and
hit you back,
knock-down, drag-out
black eye, thirteen
my first rebellion.

Begged the teacher not to call the cops
because you're my mother
and I loved you,
I protected you.
Can you say the same for me?

My sister, 16, caught
out after curfew
panicked and begging
don't let him take me home
they almost didn't

Almost.

It woke me up, 1 AM
her screaming, sobbing.
That was the last time
(in the name of Jesus)
it hurt you more than her.

She has her period now, you tell him
It's time to try new things.
Too late.
Her next six boyfriends
(or was it eight?)
and her husband
will all hurt themselves
more than her
for her own good.
Some in the name of Jesus
Some in the name of Allah
most just because they can.

I doubt you feel rage still,
I doubt you struggle
in your parenting,
in your relationships
to know the difference between
discipline and love and abuse

I doubt you still wrestle
with voices in your head
listing your offenses:
rebellious
stubborn
obstinent
disobedient
headstrong
proud
backtalking
disrespectful

GIRL

(Please show your support and leave comments for the authors if you can. Remember, this is an open ended series! Please consider writing something yourself, or sharing the project with your friends and followers. The guidelines are listed here, but feel free to write in whatever format is easiest for you.)

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Still Crying: Anne's Experience

This piece is from Anne Moser of QuickSilverQueen. Thank you Anne for your bravery.
_______________________________________________________________________

Shame. Everybody knows where you're going and what you're going to get when you follow Mom or Dad into their bedroom.
Humiliation. Bending over in front of one (or both) of the people you should be able to trust, waiting for the first blow to fall.
Defenseless. Sometimes they make you pull down your pants and expose your bare buttocks.
Rage. Unjust spankings. Watching Dad spank the 12-24 month old because she wouldn't eat something she didn't like...and then because she was screaming from the spanking.

You take whatever they give you. If you don't cry, you get more whacks. If you scream, you get more whacks. You can't win.

No child should have to go through that.

As a child, spankings were a part of everyday life. We didn't know anything different. We didn't like it, and tried to go a whole day without a spanking, but it never worked. We were never good enough. I'm pretty sure that's not what my parents were trying to convey, but regardless, it's the message I picked up. We didn't try to disobey the rules, there were just so many. Most of the time, we were figuring out ways to get around the rules...and got spanked for that, too.

It got worse once I hit puberty. Fortunately, shortly after puberty, they didn't continue making me pull down my pants, but it became more humiliating. My parents were very black and white in the discipline department: anything you did wrong merited a spanking. If you tried to correct something Mom said and she thought you were talking back, spanking. If Dad couldn't figure out who did something, he lined us all up for a spanking. This happened a handful of times. One time that stands out in particular was the time my dad kept spanking us until my soft-hearted brother "confessed" so the rest of us would stop getting spanked. (Later on, Dad found out he was the culprit, but didn't apologize and just said that we had probably deserved the spanking for something he didn't know about.)

I don't know why they started spanking in the first place. I remember my thoughts and feelings as a child; the one thing I wanted most was to make my dad happy and proud of me. He didn't need to spank me, he just had to show me affection and understanding and I would have stopped trying to get around the rules. I would have felt good enough. I would have moved heaven and earth for him.

For us, spankings continued well past puberty, throughout the teen years, and into our twenties. I didn't know it was abuse. I just knew I hated it, and it was especially unnecessary the older I got -- most of those spankings had to do with something I'd forgotten to do, like I'd said "Just a second" after Mom told me to go do something, forgetting to ask if I could finish whatever I was doing before obeying. Just the most inane, little things.

Now, I'm an anti-spanking, child-rights activist. Spanking is abuse. If you wouldn't hit/spank your husband, wife, or best friend, you shouldn't hit/spank your child.

(Please show your support and leave comments for the authors if you can. Remember, this is an open ended series! Please consider writing something yourself, or sharing the project with your friends and followers. The guidelines are listed here, but feel free to write in whatever format is easiest for you.)

Monday, July 9, 2012

Still Crying: Spank Them


This peice is from an anonymous author.
______________________________________________________________________

If you want your children to behave only when you're around, spank them.
If you want your children to see your anger as something to be afraid of, spank them.
If you want your children to sneak behind your back and keep things to themselves to avoid your anger, spank them.
If you want your children to hurt and berate themselves when they feel like they've let themselves down, spank them.
If you want your children to be fed lies like "this hurts me more than it hurts you", spank them.
If you want your children to think that your love is conditional and that making mistakes mean you don't love them, spank them.
If you want your children to physically fight with each other, spank them.
If you want your children to feel justified when your spouse abuses you, spank them.
If you want your children to move far from you the first chance they get, spank them.
If you want your children to resent you and authority, spank them.
If you want your children to be introverted and afraid to let themselves show, spank them.
If you want your children to learn how to draw themselves into dead, emotionless state when criticized because "crying just makes it worse", spank them.

"Spare the rod, spoil the child," they say.

"Use the rod, spoil your relationship with your child," is the reality.

I love my mother and appreciate what she gave us as a single mother who managed to get her two daughters to graduate from university.  But I can't help wondering how much better I'd love her and how much better we'd have turned out if she had never spanked us.

Don't make your children feel the same way about you.



(Please show your support and leave comments for the authors if you can. Remember, this is an open ended series! Please consider writing something yourself, or sharing the project with your friends and followers. The guidelines are listed here, but feel free to write in whatever format is easiest for you.)

Still Crying: The Plan

Good Morning!
Today is the first day of publishing for the "Still Crying" project. I will be posting a new submission every other week day for the next month or so. I decided to leave one day between each post so that each entry would receive the attention it deserves. I will also be posting a list of pertinent links towards the end of the series.


As we all know, the subject of corporal punishment is painful and often triggering. The authors of these submissions have shown incredible strength and bravery by coming forward with their stories. Please show your support and leave comments for the authors if you can.


When I was on my way out of fundamentalism, it was stories like these that helped me realize I wasn't crazy. It was brave bloggers and supportive commenters that helped me come to terms with the abuse I experienced as a child. My hope is that this series will reach others like me, as well as any parent considering the use of corporal punishment. If we can help even one broken spirit to heal, or prevent even one child from being hit, this will be more than worth it.


So please join me in welcoming Anne, Dara, Melissa, Lisa,Yukimi, Ona, Brooke, Chelsea, Elizabeth, Conundrum, and the many anonymous authors who are a part of this project. Remember, this is an open ended series! Please consider writing something yourself, or sharing the project with your friends and followers. The guidelines are listed here, but feel free to write in whatever format is easiest for you.

Monday, July 2, 2012

Still Crying: Update

The response I have received for this project has been incredible. Emails, Facebook messages, comments and shares, and even quite a few blog references. Its wonderful to see how important this is to so many people. Submissions are now well into the double digits. Some are poetic, some are informational, ALL are absolutely courageous.
 This week is the Fourth of July, as well as my 2-year wedding anniversary. I’m sure everyone will be cooking out, swimming, or watching fireworks (unless you’re not in the U.S!) Because of this, I have decided to postpone the publishing of my series for one more week. I want each and every one of these stories to receive the attention and feedback that they deserve!  

But the good news is that if you haven’t written a submission for the project yet, you have a whole extra week to get it done!!

Everyone have a relaxing and wonderful holiday! Be sure to check back here on July 9th for first installment of “Still Crying: the pain of corporal punishment doesn’t end when the spanking is over”