A pro-domme is not a doctor, but she could play one on TV
Lately, I’ve run into a couple of blogs by young-ish women* who are writing about considering becoming pro-dommes because they’ve tried the femdommy thing a little bit and they find they like hitting men, and they have judged themselves pretty good at it.
So, they figure… Why not go pro? Why not make some money doing it?
Ah-hem…
Now begins the rant. A very short rant.
Hey, I just took an aspirin for my headache and my headache went away. Wow, that was fun! That worked! I really liked that, maybe I should become a doctor! You know, make some money at this administering drugs stuff!
No.
The yawning canyon between taking an aspirin for your headache and being a doctor is as wide as the one which exists between slapping your boyfriend around until you feel dizzy with power and being a pro-domme.
.
*Not anyone I link to. Obviously.
Right! And playing the flute, how hard can that be? You blow in the big hole, wiggle your fingers over the little ones — piece of cake, I think I’ll apply for a job at the symphony.
Cool post, Vespertine.
figeaf
Doh, I’ve read too many posts while having too little coffee. I meant cool post, *Elizavetta.*
figleaf
Figleaf,
Never comment before coffee! One of the blogger rules you bent today, huh? No worries. *smile* It’s good to see you here, thanks for stopping by.
And yes, we could think of a million silly analogies for this particular kind of “hey, I could do that” syndrome, couldn’t we? And they’d all show the peculiar stupidity of this line of thought.
Yet, somehow, when it comes to sex, many people seem to think that since sex is a natural “skill” (which of course, it most definitely is not), earning money at it should be a piece of cake.
People confuse talent with skill all the time and, even worse, enjoying doing something with having a talent for it. But only when it comes to sex is it allowable to miss the differentiation; only with sex is it possible to equate the idea of “liking it” with being good at it professionally - and specifically when it comes to women.
This all has to do with that worn out assumption that a women who actually likes sex must be a whore, followed by the equally worn out “logic” that a woman who likes sex must therefore be a “natural” prostitute.
The really sad thing about this to me is that women themselves, to one extent or another, have internalized this erroneous logic. Hence, the subject of my post wherein women are seriously considering a life-changing decision based upon a fucked up logic they don’t even know they’ve internalized.
In other words, they think the “I like sex = why don’t I make some money at it” line of thought is totally their idea! (Which, by the way is the whole end point of the dynamics of oppression… but I digress.)
Ah, well…
Probably the best advice I could give to aspiring sex workers who have swallowed the hook, line, and sinker of this type of unexamined assumptive reasoning is:
Before you go out and buy a whip and a catsuit, take a moment to think about exactly where your assumptions and beliefs really come from, ok?
Hint: they did not all originate in your very own pretty little head.
E, every pro-domme has to start somewhere. Like with professional training and psychology.
I have long surmised that sex has lost the natural mystery, so people are quick to delve into what they consider “taboo”, out of boredom, not out of desire.
Since sex is free and found on every corner, women do have to go that extra mile if they want to receive compensation. This is the latest stretch of the marathon.
I am sure that a number of the the latest champions will drop out the the race, once they see how more more steep the incline gets as they go forth.
Liras,
True, everyone has to start somewhere. And yes, also true is the fact that, in this case, the incline is indeed steep.
I have long surmised that sex has lost the natural mystery, so people are quick to delve into what they consider “taboo”, out of boredom, not out of desire.
I think you may be onto something here - the idea of boredom being a motivation rather than real desire when it comes to sex. As usual, you give me such succulent food for thought. *smile*