Like Going to Mars
Katie Roiphe’s In Praise of Messy Lives:
in the beginning it was very hard to get the voice of her upper east side upbringing out of her head, to separate the flock of preppy spence girls in their green plaid uniforms, the blocks of doorman buildings and tulip-lined avenues, from the amorphous entity she was beginning to think of as her self. those first days in the dungeon, wearing latex, whip in her hands, she hears a voice call her trashy, a whore, a loser, but she doesn’t know if it’s her voice.
then somewhere she crosses over. the world she has moved into is so extreme, so profoundly and flamboyantly unacceptable that it frees her from the narrow or confining definitions of a successful life she was struggling with; it’s not like failing a little, or not fitting in a little. it’s like going to mars.