Just for the record
2002-11-26 @ 12:42 p.m.
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Not a date report, but something that a few of my family and friends might not want to read. You've been warned.
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Just for the record . . .
During the height (depth?) of my depression this summer, I wrote an entry that implied that my sexual use of Daddy fantasy was directly connected to my reaction to jealousy. In retrospect, I don't believe that was true. Actually, at the time I didn't really believe it. It was just something my therapist suggested that I consider. When I wrote about it, everyone took it so seriously that I didn't feel like I could take it back. But for your benefit, I want you to know how I really feel, because a lot of us use the Daddy fantasy. I kinda wonder how many of us who use it are also recovering from sexual abuse issues.
I've tried to explain to myself and others what the significance of the Daddy fantasy is for me. How it's different from the image of a real father. The ways that it means a sexually dominant partner, not a nurturing parent. But then there's the ways that the dominance sometimes overlaps with nurturance. It gets complicated. And sometimes, dammit, playing with incestuous roles is erotic in such a deliciously nasty "you can't do that" sort of way.
Recently we were listening to a jazz or blues cd at work and a song came on that said something like "give your Daddy everything you've got." One of my co-workers popped up her head from what she was doing and said "that's kinda weird." I didn't stop to try to explain it to her. But I noticed how many old school jazz and blues singers use the Daddy fantasy, both men and women. I suppose it would be too politically incorrect to do that now.
Like I said, I've given up trying to explain exactly what it means to me when I call a lover Daddy. But the old songs come close. When the singer murmurs "give your Daddy everything you've got," I know exactly what he means - and it's got nothing to do with my biological father. And when I'm in the middle of an amazing scene sometimes the only words that will come to my lips are "oh my god, Daddy."
There have been times when I've played with the fantasy outside of the bedroom. That's a little more tricky, and possibly even more complicated, but still exciting beyond explanation. Really, what I'm looking for in both circumstances is mostly someone to take charge, to tell me what to do, or to just do it and let me respond. I know that doesn't always take a Daddy; it just takes a good dominant lover. But there's just something about calling her Daddy - a certain "je ne sais quoi."
I haven't given up on the Daddy fantasy, but, like everything else after a summer of scary depression, it may take a little while for the interested parties (me and her) to be completely comfortable with it again. Sometimes I miss it.
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