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Acceptance


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I like art. I know nothing about pigments, concepts, textures, or picture plane, but I like art. I like architecture, love looking at interesting structures; but couldn't even build a bird house for a common sparrow. I'm an ameteur musician, and understand music (more or less); for example to change a B-flat chord to a B-flat minor chord, you need only change one note, F, B-flat and D to F, B-flat and D-minor. But still, you don't have to understand music to enjoy it.

I'm a spanko. the older I get the more I'm sure I was just born this way. And I've spent a lot of time through the years wondering why...why this urge, this passion? As much as this consumed my thoughts when I was young I just hoped it would vanish as I grew up. As time passed I accepted it, but kept it to myself, guarded as a deep dark secret. Ok, eventually I embraced it after I entered the spanko world in earnest, but still did not dare share it with anyone outside of our bubble.

Well you know what? I realize that just like art, or architecture, or music or anything you enjoy, you don't have to understand it to enjoy it. The days of trying to make sense of this are irrelevant, and over. Yeah I'll still keep it to myself, but without the guilt.

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I am totally with you guys. I did not become aware of this intrinsic nature within me...until I was 25. Unlike many many folks here, it was not something that I recognized while growing up or at a young age. I think for me...it was "actually" in me then...but...it was covered over by the harsh and angry spankings I received at home while growing up. I struggle to bring myself to say they were abusive...but...certainly by today's standards...they were. So...when a real caring, loving, and strong man spanked me over his knee for the first time at the age of 25....8 years after I had been away from that type of destructive spanking....it was like a light shown on my actual "need"...and "craving"...for more of that. I guess in my young adult life I had done a fine enough job of "abusing myself";through terrible decisions, habits, anger....and finding someone who would genuinely help protect me from myself....was such a life changing awareness for me. Go figure. But...like you all... after time spent with counselors, therapists...self contemplation....even talking to a minister....I have dropped the turmoil in me....and embrace who I am. I accept that most will never understand...so...concluded...as long as I bring them no harm...why do they need to know this about me..,about "us"....at all? We do keep it secret...accept among you folks here on line.

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I have loved reading this forum and seeing the responses here.  As I reflect on my own experience as a spanko, I wonder why it is that I have never questioned my interest in spanking.  It's been with me since I was a little girl.  I can remember making crude drawings of spankings when I was as young as seven.  I remember reading books as a child and if a spanking was featured, I went back to read and re-read the story many times (Berenstain Bears, Great Brain series).  As a teen, I asked all of the guys I dated to spank me (most obliged).  But it wasn't until I was well into my thirties that I realized that spanking as real discipline was what I was craving...not role-play, or funishments...but being held accountable for my behavior through spanking.  I have no idea why I am a spanko... I just am.  And, I think it is one of the beautiful things about me.  XOXO

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I'm at an age where I was spanked as a kid growing up both at home and at school.  At home, it was always administered with the strap by my mom since I was 8 years old.  I never received the strap where I didn't understand why it was happening.  Prior to any discipline, we sat and calmly discussed what I did wrong and I was always able to give my "side".  There were times when I wasn't disciplined.  Most of the time, it did happen and was given in a caring and loving way to provide the guidance I needed and never in anger.

I was 15 when, between after-school activities and a part-time job, the discipline started slowing.  I couldn't understand why I missed the guidance while always dreading to receive the strap.  After some time of conflict, I spoke to my mom about it.  We always had an open communications style.  We determine that I could ask for the strap without having to "confess" to any infractions.  We agreed to a set number of the normal full-force strokes with me being naked as always.  This happened until I was almost 21 years old.

Looking back, that was what I consider the start of my "acceptance" to the need of guidance that I still need today.

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