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Wednesday, October 23, 2013

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.

Tuesday, October 22, 2013

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.








Wednesday, October 16, 2013

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.


Girly Mario and Luigi costume ideas
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...