Inside the Mind of a Sadist
Sadism: the tendency to derive pleasure, especially sexual gratification, from inflicting pain, suffering, or humiliation on others.
I think I knew from the age of about seven that I was different, that I was what is called a sadist. I remember back on the playground during recess that I used to purposefully play by the boys while they were trying to play football or swing on the swings, honestly, while they were just trying to do their “boy” thing, just so I would irritate them enough and get in their way so they would stop what they were doing and start to pick on me until I would chase them around and hit them (in a childish way), in a way that would make them laugh and seemingly make me angry, but inside I was really, deeply and truly happy. I loved hitting them. Sometimes I would even test my boundaries and trip one of them just to see them skin their knees in the dirt. It was a bonus if they yelled out loud, “Ouch!” and if their eyes happened to well up in angry tears I was elated.
Obviously now I have learned to control these urges and I do not go around tripping people and hoping they scream and cry, but that doesn’t mean that when I am allowed to cause pain that I do not thoroughly enjoy it. It is not so much in a sexual way, it is somewhat, but it isn’t. It’s hard to explain. I get the tingles, the chills, goosebumps, almost like that warm, sensual feeling you get when you’re with someone you have a crush on and your belly does flip flops and you’re just SO happy you could cry and smile for days. You get giggly and almost high you are so elated. That, that is the feeling I get when I get to cause someone pain, especially if I get to add in some bondage so they are completely helpless. Then you add in the fact that as a Pro-Domme, I know these people in and out, or am getting to know them. Their deepest desires, their secrets, their life stories. Everything they will tell me, which is usually a lot. Because, as odd as it may sound, I also love helping them and knowing that I am both causing them pain and that parts of what I do are also helping them, it’s a feeling I cannot explain.
A friend on social media recently told me that being a “sadist with a big heart who loves to help people” was a total dichotomy and I told him he was wrong. he just doesn’t understand this world or what is going on inside of my mind. I am hoping this little bit of information helps both him and those who have issues understanding me as well.
I’ve just recently come fully out of the “kinky closet” to pretty much everyone in my life, family, friends, shit, I told the guys behind the counter at the local CVS I go to. I am proud of who I am and what I do because when you hear time and time again how much you’ve helped someone in their life and what a difference you have made, it’s not something you should have to keep to yourself.
A regular therapist can go on and on about what they do every single day, how much they help people, why shouldn’t I be able to do the same thing? I have literally stopped friends and clients from committing suicide. I have made people see that their fetish or that loving being tickled by feet is not wrong or gross or weird, but part of who they are, just like, I think pistachio ice cream is fucking gross, but you might love it! So what…so fucking what. Is it bothering you? No? then whatever.
For years I thought I was a psychopath or that one day I was going to go nuts and start killing people because I was a sadist and I waited and waited and it never happened. I never randomly hurt anyone who didn’t want me to. On the contrary, I was the one who was hurt, time and time again. I was able to control myself 99% of the time aside from a few mishaps, but they had nothing to do with that side of me, they were out of pure anger and rage, but still, up until very recently, I felt like I could not be myself. I hid from my family and closest friends what I did and who and what I truly was.
Now, in a few short months, I’m wearing latex in public, running a munch and strongly advocating for people to truly embrace that side of themselves and come out of their kink closet because the sad part is, is I have watch relationships destroyed, friendships ruined, marriages end, family’s disown kids, just like what happened with people when they came out about their sexuality. It’s very very similar and here we are again, fighting for the right not to be bullied and ridiculed because we like something that doesn’t fit into someone else’s “box” of what normal is.
Can we stop defining normal and just be ourselves and be happy? I feel like if we all focused more on being happy, as long as we didn’t hurt anyone else in the process, we would all be a hell of a lot happier as a race.
Stop. Defining. Normal.
