You know what I need? A Service Daddy.

As fellow kinkster BoringJen once said: “My daddy always said, if more than one person tells you that you have a tail, you should probably turn around and look.”

I have, in my life, had the following adjectives used to describe, insult, praise, undermine, and recommend me:

> Intimidating, Challenging, High-Maintenance, Self-Assured, Difficult, Ambitious, Bossy, Driven, Resourceful, Demanding, Pushy, Critical, Tough, Straightforward, Harsh, Imperious, Greedy, Domineering, Strong-Willed, Stubborn, Insistent, Proud, Assertive, Determined

I am a demanding person, you guys. I hold people to really high standards. I challenge people. It’s what I do. It’s time I own it.

The problem is, BDSM only has one tried-and-true prescription for people who meet that definition: Dominant. Well sorry BDSM, but I’m not dominant.

Being in relationships with two decidedly dominant (and two decidedly fantastic) men, well…sometimes I don’t get to demand what they give me and when they give it. And after years of experimentation (using scientific and un-scientific methods alike) I can confidently say that, sadly, I don’t get to cajole, seduce, tease, maneuver, wheedle, bribe, plead, charm, beguile, bend over backwards, flatter, suck, or fuck them into always giving me what I want when I want it, either.

I am a rigger and a sadist. I like to bamboozle bottoms, and make them blush. I like to top. I am also a rope bottom, and a masochist. I love to serve, and I love to submit. I love structure. I want to act and I want to be acted upon. I know what I want and need, and I am not satisfied unless I get it. I am a dominant submissive, and I need a relationship which reflects that.

In short, I need a Service Daddy.

You guys, a Service Daddy is just the thing! I could tell him[i] to tie me up. I could tell him to beat me senseless. I could tell him to fuck me as hard as I needed. I could tell him how, how much, how hard, and how long to do this stuff and he’d do it – because he wanted to serve me.

He’d spoil me rotten, and I’d tell him just how to do it.

If I was down and needed to feel comforted, my Service Daddy could hold me and say things like “Punkin, I’m so proud to be your Daddy.” If I was hungry, Service Daddy could say “Do you want me to make your favorite sourdough toast with butter, you sexy monkey?” and I’d say “Yes! You’re the bestest!”

When I went out with Service Daddy, I could play dress up as Mommy, and only the two of us would know how secretly he was my Daddy. I could play with his junk under the table with my feet, and he wouldn’t tell me to stop because I’d be in charge, and whether to play with his junk under the table with my feet is my call, not his.

Basically it would be the best of both worlds. And I could finally be the dominant submissive I really am. I’m all in on this, you guys. Calling all Service Daddies!

---

[i] Sorry, everybody. I do love to play with women. Women are teh sexy for sure. But your humble author’s daddy issues call for a male partner (or a really butch, sexy, older lady?) to play the Service Daddy part.

Why I Do It

I spend a lot of time thinking about what it means to be a kinky person, what that says about me.

I found this one Maggie Mayhem article today about porn, and she wrote this thing below, and it helped me be able to put into words why I do kink. It's powerful stuff:

"A child can look at a cardboard box and have the very real experience of being on a pirate ship at sea and we know just how powerfully vivid this is. In fact, children roleplay the macabre and the horrific all the time. When a small child comes up to you with a pointed finger shouting “bang bang” you know immediately to act out a terrible, painful death. Why?

The power of the imagination is one of the greatest gifts we have and we use it to understand what’s happening with our universe, our planet, our fellow humans, and our interior landscapes. Yes, there are a lot of things depicted in porn that I would never want to see happening in real life, non-consensually, before my eyes. I know that most children would be horrified if their pretend firearm were actually harming you. What they’re thrilled about is the magic of altering consciousness by employing focused attention on an idea. We’re not surprised when children learn about the holocaust and head to the playground to decided “who’s Hitler” for a group roleplay. They aren’t doing this because they want to be Hitler, because they espouse genocide, or because they’re racist. Kids roleplay the horrors of grownups because it doesn’t make any sense at all that we would ever hurt our fellow humans like that. It is illogical, it cannot ever be fully understood, and it never serves us. 

Adults do the same thing. We use our mind to Photoshop reality in real time and in retrospectives. Sexuality is one facet of many, many, many incredible functions of the most complex and intricate computers ever assembled on planet earth and it’s made of meat and it lives in our heads."

My sexuality has always been a hugely important aspect of my identity, since well before I even knew what the word "kinky" meant. I'm a lot of things other than sexual, but sexuality was always a safe home base for me. So when, in my twenties, I was finally introduced to kink and kinky culture by a lover, I knew it was right, dove straight in, and have felt at home there ever since.

Sexuality is and has always been a safe space for me to help ease my anxiety and exist in my body and feelings in the moment, without judgement. As I struggled with a debilitating digestive disease that affected my quality of life every day for eighteen years, tapping into my sexual nature was my only consistent physical and mental coping strategy. When I struggled with self-esteem issues, sexual fantasy, sexual contact, and masturbation were the things that helped ground me to my true, deserving self. Anytime, as a woman or a feminist, I was confronted with the notion that any of the ways I chose to explore my sexuality was shameful or immoral or harmful to women, I dismissed that notion out of hand. It just didn't feel shameful or immoral, and it was the opposite of harmful to me. 

I use my sexuality for myself, and only myself. I watch what porn I watch for myself, to enjoy and stimulate my imagination; I am the consumer, not a victim. When I wear sexy clothing, I'm not dressing "provocatively" - I'm reminding myself in a visceral way to feel good about my body. When I tie myself up in a room full of kinky people, I'm not trying to show off or get attention; I'm practicing self-care in a safe space where I know someone will be able to help if something goes wrong. When I teach about kinky practices, I'm not doing it for accolades or popularity - I do it because practicing my sexuality is deeply joyful for me, and paramount to my well-being, and I want to help other people find that joy, if I can. When I engage in violent or painful play with a partner, I'm not doing it because I want to hurt myself or because I'm a misogynist - I'm doing it because I love myself strongly and I appreciate my partner's desire to inhabit that moment with me, and that's the most accurate way I know to express this thing that I don't fully understand and cannot be expressed in words.

I'm writing this blog post for myself, too. It belongs in public because I want to share this part of myself with other people, because other people are also essential to my well-being. And because I hope those people can get something out of this, and see themselves in this. Because it's nice to feel a thing in common.

STI Testing, Slut-Shaming, and My Adopted City

Today I went to one of the City of Chicago's free STI testing clinics for my bi-annual STI/HIV test.

The 2-3 hour visit to this clinic normally breaks down like this:

It's boring, but hey, it delivers immediate HIV results, only takes 10 days for the other results, doesn't require an appointment, and it's free - it's great that I can get this in exchange for my tax dollars in Chicago. 

Today, unfortunately, I was offered a little something extra with my visit - a big, healthy dose of slut-shaming by the woman assigned to do my intake and triage.

When you walk into the clinic, someone behind a counter tells you to go over by the door to the exam room area and wait for someone to help you. After a few minutes of people walking in and out of exam rooms looking right at me without saying anything (SOP for this clinic), an older woman in a lab coat pointed towards a nearby open door and told me to go in. She followed behind me and closed the door partway.

"Why are you here today?" she asked. 

"To get an STI test," I responded.

"No, we all know you're here to get an STI test." She does a half eye-roll. "What brings you here to this walk-in clinic? There must be some reason you came in here today. Are you having a rash or itching or something?"

I'm put off by her manners but this is a reasonable question, I decide. "No, no symptoms. I'm just here because I'm out of work right now, but I try to get tested regularly because I have a lot of sex partners."

As she's crossing to the desk, she looks at me sideways and says "A lot of sex partners? Shame, shame, shame." Then she hands me a clipboard and a pink card with a number on it, and tells me to fill these out and they'll call my number.

Are you kidding me? I'm thinking. Did she actually just say that? Wow. I wanted to say something but I didn't know what to say in that moment, plus she was already leaving the room. So I went back to the waiting area and filled out my paperwork, then texted my partner and told him what happened. He asked if I got her name; I hadn't, but said I'd try to get it.

Then I got really mad. Who was that woman, and what the hell was she doing, working in an STI clinic? I went on my phone and found the Twitter account for the City of Chicago's Department of Public Health, and tweeted:

An hour or so later, when the CNP (Certified Nurse Practitioner) called me back to get my urine sample and swab me, I told her what had happened. She looked alarmed and perturbed. She apologized to me and when I said "Oh well, it was bound to happen some time," she said "Why? That shouldn't happen to anyone!" That made me smile - it was a good answer.

As I was leaving the clinic later with the insulting woman's name, job title, and ALL THE FREE CONDOMS (seriously, free female condoms are the best reason to go there) I got a tweet from @ChiPublicHealth. It was someone named Brian; he apologized as well, left a number, and requested I call. I did and left a message. He called back  - after 5 P.M. no less - and asked for the details I was willing to give. When I told him what the woman had said (the "Shame, shame, shame" bit) he goes (and I quote):

He apologized again, thanked me for calling, and told me that he'd already reported it to the Commissioner of the Department of Public Health, and the Chairman of the Board of Public Health. He said he thought she would need some intensive education, and that didn't know what anyone in that Department was doing with opinions like that. I told him I didn't care what her opinions were, I just didn't appreciate her giving them to me. He responded by saying: "Well I work here and I do care." Nice work, Brian! When I got home, I discovered another tweet from the DPH Commissioner himself (!), promising follow up and thanking me for contacting them.

May I just say...?

Ok, this is where I get all Chicago-pride on you guys. As horrible as it is that someone working in an STI clinic would say that to anyone, the follow up I received from the Department of Public Health was positively outstanding. From the CNP who first apologized, tried to fix it, and offered to lodge a complaint on my behalf; to Brian the Public Relations guy who seemed genuinely appalled at my experience; to Dr. Choucair (the Commissioner of DPH) personally thanking me for reporting it, I saw an attitude of care and concern about public sexual health that was, frankly, exemplary. And I was shocked and very pleasantly surprised to see that quality of care from a big city government agency. 

It kinda makes me proud to be a kinky person in such a sex-positive city.

Femme Halloween

My favorite costumes as a kid were the most femme ones because that's how I felt most comfortable. I was a kickass Charlie Chaplin once, but that didn't beat Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz (complete with my Pound Puppy in a basket) or Raggedy Anne. (Although I confess I did love one masculine costume...my - totally insensitive in retrospect - hobo costume in 3rd grade. It was so comfortable.)

But finding a femme costume that doesn't fit into the Sexy Trap is hard. So fuck that. I'll be femme-anything-I-damn-well-want for Halloween. 

Hell. Yes.

So CUTE. Buzz Lightyear and Woody (via neatorama.com)

This is BLOWING MY MIND (via theparsimoniousprincess.blogspot.com)

Skirts are way more comfy than unitards

I DIE.

Aw HELL yeah

Um, AWESOME??

YESSSSSSS

Seriously, I might actually do this this year. No, I don't have any kids. And I won't forget the makeup...

I'm pretty awesome, you guys.

I went on a date last week. It was Great Success! The dude I went out with, he's got a pretty unusual job in research science. This is an interesting field, but not a sexy one, per se. And yet, as he was describing the science-y stuff he does for a living to me, I was thinking to myself "*God, he's sexy. I kinda want to get naked with him and make out right now.*"

"*You are crazy, girl*," I then thought to myself. "*This is not sexy subject matter. What's up with that?*"

Then it hit me: people are at their most beautiful and sexy when they're talking about or doing something they love, and about which they are passionate, and for/about which they are proud. So today, when I was feeling kinda tired and cranky and not loving that feeling, I thought to myself "*MrsB! You should make yourself feel better by thinking of things that you're proud of, about yourself! Or maybe you should make a list about things you feel passionately about! Or both!*" 

So I decided to do that. And to invite you to do it, too. Here's the first exercise: write up a list of a bunch of stuff about you that you know to be good and true. As in: a list of reasons why you're awesome. 

There are no wrong answers. The only rule is: nothing negative. This rule is non-negotiable. It's a hard limit for this little scene you're about to do with yourself. Nothing. Negative. Period. You are not allowed to sneak the words "but" or "even though" into this list. You are not allowed to list things that are conditional.

Go ahead and do that. If, while you're doing it, you encounter something negative you judge yourself to be, wad it up like so much scrap paper and throw it in your mental recycle bin. Just put it right out of your mind. 

I think it's a nice thing to do for yourself. Here's my list.

Things about MrsB that are awesome

• I'm wicked smart.
• I'm really good at my job of choice. And I'm good at my job of second choice, which I also do frequently. And I'm good at my job of necessity as well, which I do as necessity dictates. In short, I'm good at the things I get paid to do. And I believe that I would be good at any job I set my mind to.
• My posture is, in general, good. 
• I love my belly laugh.
• I like my eyes. I think those are really pretty.
• I'm adorable sometimes, and terrifying sometimes. And sometimes I am both, simultaneously. It's pretty great.
• I love the wrinkles I'm developing on my face.
• I am an incredibly loving and loyal partner.
• I'm a good writer.
• I'm sexier now than I've ever been in my life.
• I care about some things very deeply, and am intensely passionate about them. I used to think this was a weakness, but I've discovered it's one of the best things about me.
• I know how to werk a pair of high heels.
• I like my lips. They're sexy. I do lipstick really, really well.
• My décolletage is hot.
• I excel at orgasms. I love this about myself.
• I have a powerful supervagina.
• I have a good fashion sense.
• I have overcome, in an incredibly gracious way, a seemingly insurmountable obstacle in terms of my career, and I am really, truly proud of myself for that.
• My hair is pretty, and it smells nice.
• My skin is really pale and clear with pink undertones, and it's beautiful. I look super when I'm flushed.
• I have excellent taste in men. ;-)
• A few months ago, I had coffee with an old friend from college I hadn't seen in years, and who is immensely successful. She told me that I was a role model for her. That made me feel really happy and proud of myself.
• I'm honest and have a strong sense of ethics.
• I have a good work ethic.
• I give a really good blowjob!
• I'm punctual. That is a thing I'm proud of.
• I have good instincts about people, generally, from a first impression standpoint. 
• When I'm wrong, I apologize and try my best to right it.
• I'm forgiving.
• I'm good at empathy.
• I'm good at public speaking.
• I'm organized and make a point of being prepared.
• I have a knack for pronouncing languages.
• I'm good at kinky things - I tie pretty well, am a wicked sadist, and am proud of my bottoming skill set.
• I know I still have so many things to learn and directions in which to grow, and I love that, and welcome the opportunity.

Gosh that felt good! Now, you! I want to know what's awesome about you. 

Next time, I'll write about things for which I feel passionately. That's gonna be a fun one.

Things I, MrsB, Need as a Submissive Partner

You know what’s awful? Those posts that list big generalizations about "What <Insert Some Type of Kinky Person Here> Needs". They seem to be about as applicable to the individual reader as horoscopes - just enough in there to help you identify if you're so inclined, but never truly definitive. The one thing I've found those to be reliably good for is reminding you (the reader) to think about whether you have a good understanding of that particular topic (the topic of the post), as it relates to your own personal kink.

Here is a thing I've been thinking about lately: what do I need from a kinky relationship? What do my partners need? How do all those needs come together to form healthy relationships?

Here is me, doing some of my part to answer those questions. These are the things that I, MrsB, need from my D-type when I am the s-type in a relationship. Since I'm a switch kink-wise, but find myself drawn to D-types in a romantic kind of way, these things are basically applicable to all my romantic releationships. Posted mostly for my own personal musings and reference. So I can come back and update it when I learn something different.

·    Structure & Consistency
Whether it's protocol, tasks, or schedule, I need to know what to expect from my partner, and what is expected from me, and I need it to be committed to on both our parts. I need to know which responsibilities are my partner's, which are mine, and which are shared. When things vary from the norm, I need that to be acknowledged so I know it's an "unusual" situation. I get confused when things are not consistent: if I'm the person responsible for taking the initiative on nearly everything in the relationship - planning time together, coming up with ideas for what to do when we are together, mapping out travel routes, etc - and then you get weirded out when I try to initiate sex, I'm not going to understand why, and I am going to get confused.

·    Diligence

I need to know that my partner is consciously working at keeping commitments, and at making our partnership a mutually beneficial one. I don't need success or perfection all the time - I just need to know my partner is trying.

·    Reciprocity

Relationships are, as adage says, a two-way street. Or, to use a different image: think of me as a rechargeable battery. My partner is the charging device. When I'm at full charge, I'm happy, and I'm very useful and good to my partner - I can give a lot. But I'll always eventually get to a point when I need to be recharged. I'll stop functioning properly if I'm not regularly given back what I put into the relationship. In a good relationship, this battery/charger thing works both ways; we are working to make one another happy, and we are replenishing one another by making one another happy. 

·    Respect, Appreciation, and Admiration

This is self-explanatory on one level - and something that's good for any kind of relationship, romantic or not. But on the romantic, D/s front, here's my thing: Every person has different strengths. Although I gravitate toward relationships in which identify as the s-type partner, not all of my strengths are typical s-type strengths. And as a matter of fact, I have some serious difficulties with some standard s-type behaviors. But I am always willing to try things that may be difficult for me. All I need in return is for my partner to recognize and respect my efforts, and to admire me as a person no matter what.

·    Distinction
I need to feel like a Special Snowflake. Yep, I said it. Not to everyone, but definitely to my D-type. Both intellectually and physically, I need to feel that I - the entirety of my person, both mind and body - am special to my D-type. This is one of those things for which, in my view, actions speak louder than words.

·    Transparency
This means full honesty, with a side of keeping me in the loop. Unless my partner is planning a surprise on purpose, I need to know what's up - what's on his* mind, what's in the works, how things are going, and - especially - how my partner is feeling. I need to feel actively included in my partner's life, outside of the time we spend together. 

·    Sex & Play
I am a sexual person, and a kinky person. I need both of those things in my life. Sex and physical intimacy are, at this point in my life, necessary components of any romantic relationship I may have, and play is a necessary component of any D/s relationship I may have. 

So there you all have it. For now. I think!

*Goddammit, I thought I could get through a whole post without using a gender pronoun. But alas, I am primarily heterosexual, which makes my D-type partners primarily male. And I simply cannot bring myself to flout all those years of grammar training and use "their" in place of "his" or "hers".

My feelings on being called "Overly PC"

In a nutshell:

I don’t understand why racial/ethnic/cultural sensitivity is seen as “overly PC” behavior. It’s not about political correctness. It’s about not being an asshole. 

Ethos

So.

My first several blog posts contain some stuff about feminism, and more specifically, they contain some not-quite-but-almost-generalizations about womens' experiences, and offer a lot of blanket advice to "men" about how to not be perceived as sexist. 

Here is what I learned from sharing my blog posts with some people I care about, and who I know care about me: while statistically speaking, not-quite-generalizations about bias may be more true than not, I've learned that statistics tend not to matter when I'm trying to empathize with a person, or share a personal story, or get someone to understand what I'm feeling. Particularly if the person I'm interacting with is not (or doesn't consider her/himself) included in the statistic. 

I also realized that I make a lot of proclamations, and giving advice to an audience who didn't really ask for it feels wrong for me. I'm very anti-guru. Plus, I know that I personally can be given a piece of good advice a dozen times and still never really "get" it until I am at a point in my life when I'm ready to learn. 

I've decided to set a sort of standard - an ethos - for this blog, going forward. 

I want to try to be as clear as possible that anything I write about is based on my own, personal experience. I can only tell my own stories, and my readers can only relate my stories to their own, personal stories. 

I want to stop making proclamations that dictate how I want people to behave. Instead, I want to encourage people to recognize that choices about how we interact with other people do exist, and that they get to "choose how [they] construct meaning from experience". 

I want to communicate that everyone's personal experience - and the emotional conclusions they draw from them - are valid. The logical conclusions may not be right, but the feelings they feel can never be wrong.

In other words - more empathy, more productive conclusions, less offense and anger. That doesn't mean I won't express being offended or angry - it just means I won't approach my blog from a jumping off point of offense or anger. I want a positive thing to reflect who I am!

Post Summer Sabbatical

Gentle readers, I have not written in a long time. And now that my summer job is winding down, it's time to start writing again. So much to say - where to start? Brainstorming seems necessary. What do I want to write about? I suppose the things I've been thinking about all summer.

I want to write about wanting what I want, and not being afraid that my wants are "wrong." I want to write about my goal to stop the process of self-editing EVERYTHING. 

I want to write about loneliness. And my relationship with it.

I want to write about being “high maintenance” and whether I am or not. About whether wanting to be treated with a certain level of courtesy is “high maintenance” And about whether there are different standards of 'acceptable" maintenance for a submissive. And whether my standards are too high. And whether I’m afraid to enforce them because I wonder if I’ll have anyone left.

I want to write about how, as the only female supervisor in my department at my summer workplace, I was constantly asking myself whether my workers’ performance and working relationship with me were swayed by the fact that I’m a woman. And how all the other women department heads at my organization either ran female-majority departments, or were more butch than femme.

I want to write about marriage, and polyamory.

I want to write about why I, a 36-year-old woman, still feel rejected and socially awkward when women nearly a decade younger than me don’t want to hang out with me. And whether this signifies that I’m immature, or just come from a unique social dynamic that looks more at other factors, or if it signifies how I may spend my entire life trying to make up for my lack of social standing in high school.

I want to write about what Ashton fucking Kutcher of all people said about success looking an awful lot like hard work, and what he said about being sexy, and about how a message directed at 13-year-old girls resonated with me still, and how fucked up that is. 

So there you go. I guess that's what you can look forward to the next few months? 

Silencing Tactics Part 3: Put up, or shut up.

How often have I been someplace where I've seen or heard something, or read something online that I found offensive to women? Nearly every day of my life for the past 25 years. That's really, really often. How often have I had the courage to say something about it? Decidedly less often. How many times have I worked up the ovaries to say something, only to be told "It's a man's world, lady. If you want to get ahead, you'd better learn to deal with it."  Or this: "[insert name of public online forum and/or public place] is supposed to be a place where I can express myself freely. If you don't like it, you don't have to read it/participate/work in this field."

This is a shitty thing to say. Why?

• Because it treats the question of whether I should speak up for myself as a question of etiquette.
• Because it isn't just a way of telling me to shut up, it's also a way of pressuring me to cease participation in this group. Which (I will say out loud because it seems so easily overlooked) I have every bit as much right to participate in as you do. But of course, you are doing it in such a way as to force me to make the decision to exclude *myself* from this activity. Speaking of which...
• Because it's not nice to ask someone to make a choice between being offended, and being excluded. This tactic places the responsibility on the marginalized person to take responsibility for her offense by just *avoiding* (as though psychic) being in places where she might be offended in the first place, or avoiding overhearing things that make her feel belittled and remind her of her "place".
• Because it allows the person who says it to avoid taking any responsibility for the consequences of his speech or actions.
• Because it assumes that the free speech of the offender is more important - on a personal, individual level, not just a theoretical one - than the emotional well-being of the offended.

What you probably should consider doing before opening your mouth to tell me or any other woman to nut up, is to take into consideration the 50% of the population who are female, and who have been marginalized for hundreds of generations simply because they are born with different reproductive organs than you. What you need to understand is this: women are not a "special interest group," despite what you may have been conditioned to believe. My sex is something that is innate, coincidental, and almost entirely out of my control. I did not choose to belong to this  marginalized group called "Women." I was partially robbed of my right to self-determination at birth - to an extent which you, a privileged male, can never fully understand. I have been lumped into this caste of people who are considered "other" or "less than" not through any choice of my own, but by a societal construct which favors you. And now you are asking me to think and behave as though I am not a member of this category at all.

So no, I will not put up or nut up. I will speak up for myself when you're trying to tell me to shut-the-fuck-up and sit-the-fuck down. I will not exclude myself - I will just bring more like me to support me. We have just as much right to be here as you do, and you'll just have to get used to it.

The Feminist Pervert

I've begun leading a class for people in the Kink/BDSM communities lately called The Feminist Pervert. The subject matter and class style varies somewhat depending on the venue, but essentially the goal of the class is to create a space where people in these communities feel empowered to have guilt-free, brass-tacks conversations about sexism, in order to make their community a more welcoming and safe space for people of all gender identities, sexual orientations, and kink identities.

I taught this class a few days ago at Shibaricon. I was so excited to have the opportunity to teach to that group of kinky people because those people are rope people, and rope people are my people. I'm into lots of crazy, perverted stuff, but when it comes down to it, rope is my desert-island toy. So on the last day of the convention, when everyone was exhausted and wanting to sleep in and trying to check out of the hotel in time, imagine my surprise when a few dozen people showed up and looked really happy. It made me happy and gave me a great sense of solidarity to know that all those people were there because we shared a common interest and concern.

I started out with the ususal introductions and asked the class what they hoped to get out of the discussion. Several things were mentioned: safe spaces; listening; how to respond to sexism; the conflict between being a feminist and engaging in consensual BDSM; a few others. For the first time, I set a goal for the class, which was that I wanted to come up with some "best practices" for engaging non-feminists in our community about how to make it feel safer for everyone. And then we started in on the discussion.

One of the first questions was a man asking about paying women compliments. He asked us: Why was this so hard? Why were some women so offended? He found himself confused, he said. And then he went on to say how it seems like women in the BDSM scene who dress in ways that show off their bodily assets, but get upset when complimented, are sending "mixed messages".

Every hackle in the room went up. You could FEEL it happen. Suddenly, in this space that was supposed to be a safe space for women (among other people) - who often have to have their defenses at least at the ready - everyone felt defensive. If I had not been leading the group, I imagine my reaction would have been remarkably similar.

This was a perfect demonstration of something that is a big puzzle to so many of us in the kinky community - how a question asked honestly - a seemingly innocuous one, to the speaker - could make so many people upset. Standing in front of the class, I found myself able to see a larger picture of that moment. That's not something I'm frequently able to do when discussing sexism, because it affects me so profoundly and so personally. I wanted the women in the class to be able to address this, to be sure. I empathized with them in that moment. But I also found that I could feel compassion for the man asking the question. He had chosen to attend this class - he wanted to be a part of finding answers and solutions to this stuff, too. He had chosen, also, to ask this question - which signaled he was open to listening. And although several of the people in the class had expressed that part of the reason they attended this class was to bypass the "Feminism 101" stuff on which this kind of class sometimes dwells, I wanted to take this opportunity to help gain an ally; rather than shutting this man out of our conversation, I wanted him to join it.

So I asked the class to respond how they truly felt. But first I asked them to respond to this man in this room, who was a person just as we all are, and who did not come into the room with the intention of estranging himself, but rather with allying himself to our conversation.

Immediately 25 hands went up. As I was about to call on someone else, one woman seated on the floor to my left said clearly and straightforwardly:

"That made me uncomfortable."

I realized that one sentence was the strongest thing anyone could have said. Because it didn't carry any kind of loaded message - there was no blame in it, no guilt or secondary emotions, just a statement of truth. So often we engage with other people who don't understand where we're coming from in an antagonistic way, and we end up playing offense or defense in a conversation.

Of course we went on to talk about why she and so many other people had felt that way, and that felt good to have created a safe space in which to do that, without fear of being shot down. The man who had asked the question looked distraught, but didn't try to defend what he'd said - he just engaged with the strong women responding to his question by listening, actively and with the intention of learning truthful answers to his question.

And of course the class went on to talk about other issues, and to come up with some "best practices" - or at least, the beginnings of them - in addressing sexism and in having these conversations in our communities. But that one little statement and the way it was said really stuck with me, and it took me a week to realize why. Here's what I think:

While I know (from experience) it's important sometimes just to stand up for ourselves and exercise our strong voices in conversations like this, I realized that it's equally important to let down our defenses and invite the person we're engaging with to see some of what our defenses are guarding us from - the real discomfort and hurt that sexist language and attitudes and culture can create in real people. If we can be strong enough to address someone who has hurt us with compassion and truth, we are inviting them to have compassion for us in return. That's the place where real understanding and new - shared - perspectives can happen. Where we, as individuals, can make choices not to say or do things that alienate or hurt other individuals. Which is just the very thing that both kinky people and feminists are looking for when we gather together.

Shibaricon 2013: This is Why I Love Being Kinky

Warning: Hippy-dippy personal-ish blog post ahead!

My Shibaricon stats: This year marked my 7th Shibaricon, and my 2nd time as a presenter. It's the first time I've ever been without my husband, the first time I went "officially" with my other partner, and the first time I stayed at the even hotel. I got the darkest and biggest bruise I've ever had, met and/or really talked to more people I've wanted to meet than ever, and had at least as good a time as at any previous event I can remember. 

The weekend was, as usual, too jam-packed with awesome to make into any sort of condensed blog post, but I just wanted to list some things that were super great.

• The Ropenspace was everything people have been saying it is. I love that a day of empowering people to share with and learn from the whole event community is what set the tone for the rest of the weekend. I attended really good classes and felt people making the space their own.
  
• I haven't submitted any class proposals in forever, since I travel so much for work and I'm never sure what I can commit to more than a month or so in advance. So I'm really grateful to Diana for asking me to fill in at the last minute. It felt special to be sharing the "Presenter" title with such excellent presenters, and I totally used it to my advantage to meet and/or connect more with some people I'd always wanted to talk with (Hedwig, Lee, Murphy Blue, and Topologist, I'm looking at you guys).
  
• I injured myself in a class. I'm OK, and I learned some great things: I'm clear, concise, and largely stoic when under duress; the event has a fantastic medical team (Robert was utterly professional, helpful, clear, and calming); I'm really good at processing pain when it's needed most; I have a wonderful partner/Sir who has his priorities straight and knows just what to say and do when I need it most; I can truly practice what I preach in terms of personal responsibility and risk-awareness in kink; people in this community are wonderful about checking in with you when they know you might need it.
  
• WykdDave is a real teacher, not just a presenter. As I mentioned over on the FetLife Shibaricon group, he teaches not just a skill, but a method for practicing, which is how all of us really learn to do things. He de-mystified tying, while allowing us to keep the magic and fun we find in rope.
  
• I'm a puppy! And I love my bone.
  
• I got one of...no, THE best beating ever from Rough, using the coolest impact tool ever for a rope slut like me: a BIG-ASS piece of rope. It was just a single piece of rope, about 4" diameter and 2' long, and it felt like being attacked by a street gang. I hope the good people at Rope Extremes start selling it. It is BADASS and I have the bruises to prove it.
  
• Balloon Bondage is hilariously serious. Having my very first balloons + sharps + choking + rubber insertables popped in my vagina scene at Shibaricon in front of the class was such a great way to end the weekend.
  
• I had a beautiful moment of feeling all the proud "These Are My People" feelings as I watched $1500 raised for a member of our community who is suffering from a stroke and the ensuing medical expense nightmare, and then watched dozens of people who couldn't afford to contribute money donate some very expensive rope so those who chipped in could have something to show for it.
  
• Finally, my Feminist Pervert roundtable surpassed even my greatest expectations. I am so thankful that so many people came and shared and helped to create a safe space to talk earnestly and truly about something so important to me and many other people. We came up with some Best Practices that I'll be sharing down the line, and I feel a wonderful sense of support and co-empowerment with all the people in that room.

And now I'm off to pack for an epic journey to a faraway place. I'll be blogging from upstate NY for the rest of the summer!

Quit Your Bitching

Today a woman I know made a relatively innocuous post over on FetLife, linking to an article over on The Rumpus about normalized sexism. The kind we encounter every day in our lives, mostly through the casual use of sexist language. She mused: "I wonder what would happen if, as a [BDSM] community, we decided to stop calling women/ feminine folk/ submissives/ bottoms "bitches" for like, ten minutes."

The post was already getting a lot of attention when I commented that I was sick and tired of people trying to defend their right to say sexist shit because it feels good and is convenient, rather than actually considering whether someone might be hurt by sexist language and whether the use of that language is contributing to that hurt. At some point the post blew up, comments-wise. The argument, on both sides, boiled down to this question:

In the BDSM community, is it a problem to use sexist words like "Bitch" in a casual way? 

Please note, we were not talking about speech within the context of a negotiated "play" encounter. We were discussing whether it was A-OK to go around referring to women as "bitches" in conversation. 

For those of you who are not familiar with the makeup of the Kinky/BDSM community, I would now like to point out that there are HUGE numbers of people within our ranks who identify - both sexually and by gender - outside the mainstream heteronormative binary. I love the diversity of our community, and I have learned so much about sex and gender since I joined it. I have grown as a person and as a feminist with the help of all the people within our ranks. In general, as a group, we pride ourselves on being sex-positive, and I love that. I know, you wouldn't have guessed that based on the premise of the discussion, would you?

It seems to me fairly obvious that terms like "bitch" can be offensive, and therefore also obvious that the respectful thing to do for our fellow community members would be to avoid using these terms so cavalierly. But of course community isn't that easy, and life isn't that black and white, so here we were having the discussion. Which is fine. But the absolute dismissal of the proposition - that we might do well to imagine what it would be like if we just stopped using the word to describe women who are friends and partners - and the absolute assuredness with which the very idea was dismissed really spoke to me.

I could take apart, one by one, all of the arguments made in favor of using the word "bitches" when talking about women. Again, let me remind you were are talking about women who are friends and play partners of the people using the term. 

I could talk about how some women say they are using it and they are not offended by it (or the men who point out that women don't generally make a point of calling them out for using the term), so therefore it's totally fine. 

Or I could rebut the claim that it's OK because some people think it's charming or hilarious to call women "bitches" because duh, of course we all know better, so it's funny because it's ironic. 

Or I could rebut the assertion that we who are offended should "lighten up." 

Or the assertion that we "3rd wave" feminists are alienating men by calling them sexist or privileged (as though the terms "sexist" or "privileged" is somehow nastier than "bitch" in reference to a person of gender female). 

Or the stance that it's OK for women-identified people can use it because we should re-claim it and take away its negative meaning (because obviously, all people can now walk around in 2013 using terms like "faggot" with ethical impunity).

Or the advice that I shouldn't "let myself" get offended by being called a bitch, sort of in general, because words can be inflected differently to mean different things. 

Or I could tear down the argument that "context is everything" and therefore it's OK to refer to all women as bitches in the "right" context, as long as you are cool enough to pull it off.

Or the upsetting claim that politically correct language is itself a form of silencing (presumably, silencing of the privileged majority). 

Or the claim that it's OK somehow because this is BDSM, and therefore I can act however I want to act because Rebellion and I'm A Special Snowflake.

Trust me, I have reasons why all of these arguments are at best, missing the point. But to go through them all would be exhausting right now. So instead I'll just make my point:

If you find yourself with the urge to call a woman a bitch, take a split second and try to imagine what a jerk you'll feel like if that woman gets hurt or angry when you call her that. If you have imagined the hurt feelings of that woman you're about to call a bitch, and you still want to go ahead and call her a bitch? Go right ahead. But don't get all upset when she gets angry or hurt and calls you a sexist. Don't try to convince her that she shouldn't be angry or hurt by your epithet. Because she is a person too, and she has just as much right to be angry or hurt or to call you sexist as you do to call her a bitch. 

Quit arguing your right to use sexist language. Nobody disagrees with you - we all know you have that right. Nobody is censoring you; I'm not going to call the Liberal Feminazi Thought Police. Knock yourself right out and call whoever you want whatever you want. But don't whine to me when I tell you I hate it and I think it's a bad behavior. Be an adult and own the consequences of your speech.**

**Now, I should clarify - I know and respect a number of men who use these terms as a part of their kink, in public kink spaces. The men I'm talking about are fully aware that they are offensive, and in fact they use this language for that very reason. Because they are using this language in a BDSM-specific context and with a specific intention, and because they have been forthright with me (and anyone who asks them) about their intentions - and also because they understand and are willing to accept the consequences of their speech - I have made my peace with them. Am I still offended by it sometimes? Absolutely. Is that kind of the point for them (and in a kinky way sometimes for me, when I assent to it - because sometimes I get off on it)? Also yes. Do I think that makes it "OK"? - Not really, but sometimes we have to recognize it's better not to throw out the baby with the bathwater.

Silencing Tactics - You Catch More Flies with Honey

Part two in a series where I outline different silencing tactics I hear when I try to stand up for myself as a woman in the face of prejudiced behavior. 

The difficult thing about the the silencing tactics I'm talking about is that there is almost never an explicitly offensive *intention* behind the trigger statement or action which leads to an accusation of sexism. These tactics are often used in earnest, without malicious intent and often in an attempt to be helpful. However, nearly all of them are also used as ways to avoid taking responsibility for having said or done something offensive. 

Whether or not this is how you are intending to use them, and even if you have a valid point, it must be recognized that many women have reflexive, negative reactions to hearing these arguments in any context because they have been overused as tactics to silence women’s voices simply because they are female, and are often based on prejudiced beliefs about women in general. Just as many men sometimes stop listening when an accusation of sexism is leveled, many women sometimes stop listening when they hear these tactics used in rebuttal, because they require a disproportionate effort on the part of the woman to rebut. The very frequency  of these kinds of responses can lead women to stop speaking up – it’s not just “conflict avoidance” that keeps women silent.


The Tone Argument

AKA: "You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar"; "You're not going to get anywhere if you keep using that tone"; "OK, but you don't have to be a bitch about it"; any kind of call for civility or less vitriol

I hear this one a lot - I'm too angry, too confrontational, I'm "attacking" the other person. And of course when I'm not, I often hear it's inverse - that the other person is so glad that I'm being "civil" and rational instead of hateful. For me personally, this is not just dismissive, but has a lifelong history of feeling silenced, since I was one of those little girls who was called "bossy" a lot, and it was said of me "Well, she certainly speaks her mind," accompanied by a sort of purse-lipped "She's a handful" look of commiseration towards whatever adult was supposed to be in charge.

The problem with this tactic - the reason it's busted - is that the person saying it is generally part of a group that has the privilege of being listened to and taken seriously. Any questioning of that person's right to frame a discussion or say something insensitive might be perceived as an attack. Meanwhile, the person against whom the accusation of incivility is being leveled is a member of a group who is conditioned to keep quiet, and who is not trying to offend the other party, so an accusation of being mean, uncivil, or hurtful is apt to be taken seriously. When this happens - if the accusation of incivility is taken seriously into consideration - then the person making that accusation has successfully asserted himself as the person who gets to define "civility", and as the person who gets to determine when it's inappropriate to be uncivil, and most importantly, he has re-framed the conversation and deflected the question of the matter at hand (i.e., the prejudiced behavior or speech). He has, in effect, dominated the conversation.[1]  

This tone argument takes me off guard, every time. Because I know that people are more likely to listen to someone who is not perceived as "being mean" to them. This is a legitimate reason to change tone - in my experience, when someone is confrontational and/or uncivil, I'm less likely to listen to what they have to say. Sometimes it really is not what one says, but how one says it. But is that really true all the time, just because it's true in my experience? As a woman, I am used to being ignored by men when I try to speak up calmly. Is this a catch-22? Sometimes it seems to be. I don't want to be seen as angry or uncivil. But sometimes, a person has to stand up for her right to be offended. 

Here's what it comes down to, for me: If someone steps on my toes, and I snap at him and say "Hey, get off my toes," it is not cool for that person to say to me "Only if you ask nicely." Just get off my damned toes, and try not to step on them again. That is the civil thing to do. 

[1] - I'm using the male pronoun here because in my personal experience, it is men who use this tactic most often. However, I have absolutely and not infrequently encountered this from other women, too.

Silencing Tactics - Part One

I recently engaged in a lengthy discussion over on FetLife about sexism in the BDSM scene. Although the discussion was predicated on some specific solicitations and remarks that some women (myself included) found offensive, at the heart of the issue for me was the fact that many kinky women do not feel that the BDSM community is any less imbued with sexism than the rest of the world.

I teach on the topic of Kink & Feminism, so I'm used to seeing people approach this topic with every possible attitude imaginable: people who want to hear about it with open minds, countered by people who stop listening the second they hear the word Sexism; enthusiastic agreement that sexism exists, countered by outright denial and sometimes even accusations of "Reverse Sexism." I'm normally able to keep my cool when leading a discussion, but when I come across that last response my jaw locks, my windpipe contracts, and I feel like I'm going to shoot fire out of my eyes.

Why do I get so angry when people tell me there is no sexism in the scene? That feminism's work is done? That misandry is just as big a problem as sexism? That I'm overreacting?

Because I don't like being manipulated into shutting up, and 4 times out of 5, that's what is going on here.

Here are some of the comments that were made to women on these recent FetLife discussions:

• "I'm just surprised that you've given this much time to something that should have been a two minute time waster."
• "Men are objectified all the time."
• "Well, *I* didn't find it offensive, so..."
• "keep calm and see if you can get your head around this without emotion"
• "You're reflecting badly on yourself by nit-picking at this."
• "Maybe you should have thicker skin."
• "You've intimidated my partner and ruined our scene."
• "You're causing drama."
• "If you don't like what he has to say, ignore it."

These things made me SO. ANGRY. I don't like feeling that angry. Angry stresses me out. I do not like being stressed out. So I decided to break down WHY all those things make me so angry, in the hopes that when it happens again in the future (and believe me, it happens all that damned time), I can approach it with understanding and advocate for myself better. In the next few days I'll be posting what I've discovered about all these silencing tactics. Empowerment here I come!

No I'm sorry

“If you can think of times in your life that you’ve treated people with extraordinary decency and love, and pure uninterested concern, just because they were valuable as human beings. The ability to do that with ourselves. To treat ourselves the way we would treat a really good, precious friend." - David Foster Wallace

I've never thought of myself as one of those people who apologizes too much. But while negotiating some complicated poly-time-share issues this week, I realized that I always feel the need to apologize when I want something for myself. 

Do I want to spend a little extra time with my partner this week? 
I'm sorry for wanting that.

Do I need to hear that I'm pretty or a good person?
I'm sorry for needing that.

Do I need some time to get my own stuff done when a partner wants to spend time with me?
I'm sorry I'm not more on top of my to-do list.

Have I made myself vulnerable by telling someone how I feel, or for talking to them in order to help work something out for myself?
I'm sorry I'm so neurotic. I'm sorry for talking about myself.

Am I disagreeing with you?
Sorry I have a different opinion.

I realized this is the stupidest thing. Am I really sorry? Do I really think I shouldn't need or want these things? Is it really necessary to apologize for having my own thoughts and opinions and feelings? No. I refuse to be sorry for these things. I respect myself more than that.

After a talk with my partner earlier this week, in which I'd gotten upset and said things and told about my feelings, I found myself with an urge to apologize, as usual. I did not apologize. Instead, I came up with a replacement behavior that I think is so much better.

Instead of saying "I'm sorry" in situations like these, I'm going to say "Thank you for helping me." 

I've already tried it once or twice. It feels great. It makes the other person feel good. It feels respectful of my needs. It's vulnerable but incredibly strong and empowering, also. Try it on for size. I highly recommend it.