Evidence that the BDSM community does not enable abuse

How can you tell BDSM from abuse?

People ask me this all the time.

The idea behind that question is that BDSM “looks like” abuse. BDSM can leave bruises or other marks of pain. When two people are having a BDSM encounter, then — if an outsider were to walk in in the middle — it might look like a scene of abuse. Hence, one of the biggest fears that people outside the BDSM community have about BDSM is that — although it appears to be consensual — BDSM enables abuse, or is used as a mask for abuse.

Are some BDSM relationships abusive? Unfortunately, some are. But abuse happens, sometimes, in all relationships. There are lots of non-BDSM relationships, whose participants have never even heard of BDSM, that are abusive. And the fact is that the majority of BDSM relationships — just like the majority of vanilla relationships — are completely consensual encounters between adults who have specifically sought out, opened themselves up to, their own BDSM desires.

Just as importantly, there are swaths of the BDSM community that actively work against abuse within the community.

I want to caution, before I talk about this, that the “BDSM community” is a big place. Plus, there are many BDSM communities out there — not just one. There are BDSM communities in cities around the world, and within those city-communities, there are multiple smaller communities. Here in Chicago, for instance, there are communities based around multiple BDSM clubs, multiple BDSM events, and more. And all the BDSM communities that exist are filled with many different voices, and all those voices will agree and disagree with me to varying extents.

But I can observe some commonalities from various BDSM communities I’ve participated in. And one of those commonalities is that many (if not most) kinksters are very concerned about potential abuse. Arguably, the greater BDSM community contains a far higher proportion of people who worry about abuse, than the rest of the world does.

You can tell partly because of the steps BDSM people are frequently trained to take within our relationships, to ensure that we communicate well and do not misunderstand each other. Safewords are the most common example of these kinds of anti-abusive communication tactics. I think the more convincing argument, however, comes from these examples of specific anti-abuse initiatives from the community:

Anti-Abuse Initiative #1: The Lesbian Sex Mafia, an old and respected BDSM group in New York City, has a short page on its website devoted to the difference between BDSM and abuse. The page has a list of quick, comparative maxims designed to explain the difference simply, and ends by providing the number for an abuse hotline.

Anti-Abuse Initiative #2: At one point, while sorting files up at the Leather Archives and Museum, I found a copy of an anti-abuse pamphlet that has been distributed at various dungeons, BDSM workshops, and other BDSM community spaces in the Northeast.

Here’s one panel from the pamphlet — I think it speaks for itself:

(For the rest of the pamphlet, check out the images at my Flickr account — here’s the front, and here’s the back.)

Anti-Abuse Initiative #3: In September in San Francisco, I attended a workshop put on by Angela of EduKink, an excellent BDSM educator. The workshop was titled “Emotional Aspects of BDSM Play”, and there was a section that talked about how to look out for abuse in a BDSM relationship. Angela described:

Four General Guidelines for Recognizing the Difference Between BDSM and Abuse

1) Consent. BDSM is consenting; abuse is not.
a) Assuming consent was given — was it informed consent? Did everyone know what they were consenting to?
b) Was consent coerced or seduced from the partner? Did everyone feel like they could say no if they wanted? Was anyone worried about suffering negative consequences if they said no?

2) Intent. A BDSM partner intends to have a mutually enjoyable encounter; an abusive partner does not.
a) Did everyone leave the scene feeling somewhat satisfied?

3) Damage. A BDSM partner tries to minimize the actual damage inflicted by their actions; an abusive partner does not.
a) Did the two partners learn what they were doing before they did it? Did they learn how to perform their activities safely?
b) Were the partners aware of the potential risks of their activities?

4) Secrecy. Abuse often happens in secret. This is the hardest one on this checklist, because — due to the fact that BDSM is a very marginalized, misunderstood sexuality — BDSM often happens in secret, too. But this is one of the benefits of having an entire subculture that deals with BDSM: we look out for each other.
a) Were the two partners involved in the local BDSM scene? Did they get advice from knowledgeable, understanding BDSM people during rough patches in their relationship?

The moral of the story here is … for a community that’s so frequently accused of hiding or accepting abuse, doesn’t it seem like the BDSM scene puts in an awful lot of work against abuse? Again, I can’t speak for all BDSM communities, nor can I speak for everyone who has had BDSM experiences; and I know that — as with all types of relationships — there will occasionally be abusive BDSM relationships. But the three anti-abuse initiatives I’ve listed above are hardly unique, and many of us within the BDSM community work to emphasize those ideas as much as possible.

We’re not monsters. We’re not trying to do things that our partners don’t want to do. I have never met anyone within the BDSM scene who was not exquisitely aware of how careful we must be to gain consent from our partners. I’m not saying that people who don’t care about consent don’t exist — I’m not saying that abusers don’t exist — even within our community. But the community as a whole dislikes abuse at least as much as any other community. The only difference between us and non-BDSM people is that we feel violence and dominance as a language of love; violence and dominance is not, for us, intrinsically abusive — rather, something to be considered in context and with full understanding of the involved parties’ BDSM needs.

Heartbreaking but inspiring

I was sorting my email and came upon this letter, which I received soon after starting the Sex+++ documentary film series.

Posted with permission:

Andy Thayer of Gay Liberation Network (GLN) forwarded your email about the sex-positive film series at Hull-House and the discussions afterward. I am a member of GLN and, although not gay, have lots of kinky needs (e.g. infantilism, BDSM, crossdressing) that I have largely kept closeted for most of my life.

I am sixty-three years old, have written pornography on the latter themes in my retirement, and have determined in the last years of my life to see what I can do about affirming these sexual aspects that have been almost exclusively a source of shame and self-loathing for so long. The film series and especially the opportunity for discussion afterward seem an ideal venue to explore this possibility. I am intrigued by this project, especially the sex-positive nature of it given my history of shame.

I try to imagine what it would have been like to go through sixty years suppressing my most driving sexual needs. More than twice my lifespan spent forcing myself not to explore my “darker” desires; forcing myself to believe that I’m a shameful pervert just for having such thoughts. Electing to run from my sexuality rather than seeking to adjust to it, own it, love it.

It hurts.

It’s not that I don’t think people can have fulfilling lives without exploring sexuality in detail. People are different; people have different desires, needs, priorities; and those desires change over time. And our options are limited by our environment — the places we live, the people we meet, etc. There have been and there will be times in my life where I don’t spend as much time on exploring sexuality as I do right now, and of course I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. Sex comprises only a few threads in the tapestry of an awesome life.

But it still hurts to know just how many people are out there who can’t even begin to acknowledge their sexuality. Indeed, it hurts every time I find another instance of shame about my own sexuality (and of course I struggle with sexual shame; we all do; no one’s so enlightened as to be completely free; all we can do is our best). The sex drive, which can be so many things — from simple pleasure to dark catharsis to deep expression of intimacy — I wish everyone could have complete access to it. That’s not possible, I guess, but at least … even (perhaps especially) with sexual approaches that don’t include what society traditionally thinks of as “sex” — if it’s masturbation, if it’s fantasy, even if it’s not having sex at all — I want everyone to feel comfortable getting in touch with their sexual needs.

It’s not that people can’t have fulfilling lives without having sex — or even without thinking about sex. But it hurts to think that anyone would believe they have to.

It hurts to think about someone, at age sixty-three, feeling like they spent most of their life “closeted”.

Still, at the same time, it makes me feel so much better to know that I’m helping create the space to venture out.

Sex-positive documentary report #6: “Bi The Way”

In a minute I’ll review the sixth film at my sex-positive documentary film series, but first I have to say … man, the screening was unexpectedly stressful! For the first time, we simply didn’t have enough space for everyone. In a way I’m thrilled, of course, but I’m also feeling a bit overwhelmed. Previously we have simply been encouraging people to RSVP by phone (312.413.5353) in order to save a seat, but it looks like now RSVPing is effectively a requirement. If you want to attend, you probably want to RSVP by phone … or show up early and hope that someone who RSVPed flakes out! I’ve been encouraging people to RSVP in the last few invitational emails and on Facebook; since last Tuesday I’ve also emphasized the RSVP information in every other Internet venue I have control over.

It’s been suggested multiple times that we switch to a bigger screening venue. This is, however, more complicated than it sounds. One reason for that is that we have very little money for Sex+++. It’s a largely grassroots effort that’s being supported by a few awesome co-sponsors; you can help if you know any potential sex-positive co-sponsors — talk to them and tell them to talk to me!

Another issue is that we want to make sure the event is centrally located within Chicago. This is important because that way it’s maximally accessible to everyone — but it’s especially important because we’ve already printed up the next batch of posters for Sex+++, and they all say it’s at the Hull-House Museum. So, ideally, any new venue would be close enough to Hull-House that people could still make it to the film if they went to the wrong place. You might be able to help us find space if you know of any large, free (or at least cheap), centrally located Chicago movie venues and can convince them to talk to me.

Anyway!

Yeah! Sex+++! Last week’s documentary was “Bi The Way” — all about bisexuality!

This movie was great for soundbites! I must have written down a million quotations. Here’s a few:

+ From a bisexual woman — “I don’t really differentiate sex with men and sex with women as two different things.”

+ From a man who was talking about how bisexuals supposedly just don’t want to “make a commitment” to one sexual orientation — “It’s not fair! The rest of us have to!” (Other negative comments about bisexuals included the assertion that bisexuals are “greedy”, or that they want to “have their cake and eat it too” — whatever that means.)

+ Some kids talking about gender and whether boys can wear pink shirts — Kid #1: “Tough guys can wear pink shirts!” Kid #2: “Yeah, tough gay guys.”

+ From an African-American gentleman profiled by the film — “In the African-American community, gay is not cool. It’s like the opposite of being Black.”

+ A bisexual man talking to his two parents, and complaining about how they tried to limit his sexuality with labels — Bisexual man: “You didn’t encourage me to explore myself. To be ambiguous.” His mother: “Well, I didn’t know that was a possibility!”

The first and last quotations in particular, I think, show how the film did a good job of highlighting issues around limiting sexuality with labels. And it’s great to see a documentary taking on bisexuality as a subject in itself, especially some of the stereotypes surrounding bisexuality. (Speaking of stereotypes, I highly recommend that everyone check out Violet Blue’s recent description of a brainstorming session on assumptions about various sexual orientations.)

I feel so bewildered by some of these stereotypes — I have no idea how to respond to them, much less deconstruct them. The “it’s not fair” and “greedy” ones, in particular, get to me. Only a culture as sex-negative as America could come up with something so ridiculous. I’ve spent the last ten whole minutes trying to articulate the assumptions behind a statement as insane as “bisexuals just want to have their cake and eat it too” (and I’m never getting that ten minutes back). The closest I can come up with is:
Assumption A: For the good of society, there is a tacit social contract imposing limits around sexuality. Society can expand its definitions to handle people who want to have sex with members of their own gender, but only as long as they impose their own limits on sexuality. Bisexuals ignore all limits for the sake of their own pleasure, and that’s selfish.
Assumption B: Sexual experimentation is bad.
Assumption C: People have complete control over who they’re sexually attracted to.

I’m not sure I’m getting to the heart of the insanity, but I think Assumptions A-C are definitely caught up in those statements. And of course, I think all those assumptions are terribly damaging! So, thanks to “Bi The Way” for bringing those issues to the surface.

“Bi The Way” frustrated me in several ways, though. One is that the documentary doesn’t really differentiate between being bisexual and being non-monogamous; it brings up non-monogamy in a way that implies an automatic association between bisexuality and non-monogamy, as if one leads to the other. There’s a stereotype that all bisexual people are non-monogamous or — more negatively — cheaters, and I feel like the film ended up reinforcing that stereotype … which is ironic, considering that it set out to debunk them.

Furthermore, I think it’s good practice for media about different kinds of alternative sexuality to differentiate between those types of alternative sexuality. There are lots of interesting models of consensual non-monogamy out there, none of which “Bi The Way” addressed or even named — which means that anyone interested in consensual non-monogamy who attends the documentary might come away more confused than ever. Such an attendee wouldn’t even know what words to plug into Google. (Want to learn more about different models of consensual non-monogamy, such as swinging or polyamory? Check out my review of polyamory documentary we showed at Sex+++, “When Two Won’t Do”!)

Another concept that was talked around, rather than addressed specifically, is one I consider really important: gender and bisexuality. One researcher interviewed in the documentary mentioned that (apparently) it used to be considered relatively normal for men to experiment with bisexuality in their youth, but not women; now, she asserted, it’s considered relatively normal for women to experiment with bisexuality in their youth, but not men. The documentary also pointed out various appearances of female bisexuality in the media — for instance, the famous (or infamous) Britney/Madonna/Christina kiss — but not much more than that.

The Ultimates, a swinger couple that attends most Sex+++ screenings, noted during the post-film discussion that women in the swinger scene are encouraged to be bi while men are encouraged to be heterosexual. Other audience members agreed that there’s more stigma against bi men than bi women. I don’t personally have much experience with this, but I can attest that I know a lot more heteroflexible women than heteroflexible men. I’m also willing to assert that — although female sexuality generally carries higher stigma than male — within very liberal and alternative sexuality circles, women have more social space to experiment sexually than men. Still, I have no studies or “evidence” to back up that assertion, just my own experience. It would have been nice to see more on that in “Bi The Way”.

A few people I spoke to mentioned that they felt bothered by how “Bi The Way” also brought up both Black gay culture and conservative religious LGBTQ issues, but without going into any depth. Fortunately, Sex+++ be screening documentaries specifically on those two topics: “On The Downlow” on June 23rd (Black gay culture), and “Equality U” on August 25th (Christian LGBTQ activism). (You can see the full Sex+++ calendar by clicking here.)

Overall, though, I was pleased to screen “Bi The Way” and encourage larger specific discussion about bisexuality in itself (rather than simply folding it into the “LGBTQ issues” umbrella, which happens too often). And on April 28th, we screen our next documentary: “It’s Still Elementary”, about educating elementary school kids on LGBTQ issues. See you there!

My KinkForAll NYC presentation: Outreach, media management, privilege, BDSM orientation, more!

Back in March, I attended a sex-positive unconference in New York City called KinkForAll; it was mostly slanted towards BDSM, but there was a lot of generally sex-positive talk as well. (You can read my post-KinkForAll followup thoughts by clicking here!) Part of the deal at KinkForAll was that everyone contributed in some way to the event, many of us by doing 20-minute presentations. I loved the loose, quasi-anarchist conference model. It worked very effectively (and if you’re interested in that kind of thing, I encourage you to read more at the KinkForAll website about how such events are organized).

At KinkForAll New York City (KFANYC), event organizer Maymay felt strongly that he wanted all the available information made further available to the general public, so he recorded all the presentations to be posted on the Internet. I don’t post images of myself, so he just took an audio recording of my quick talk on BDSM outreach strategies. You can download the recording by clicking here.

I had less than 20 minutes, and I didn’t have much time that week to prepare for KFANYC … to my ear, my talk sounds rushed and disorganized. I guess that’s how it goes. Certainly, expect it to be informal when you listen to it!

Now let me give some references and clarify some points:

References

+ Most importantly, check out my sex-positive documentary film series at Jane Addams Hull-House Museum!

+ Here’s the interview I did with Daniel Bergner, who wrote a “New York Times Magazine” article on female sexual desire as well as The Other Side of Desire, a book profiling four sexual fetishists.

+ I describe Pleasure Salon NYC during the recording, and there’s an interchange with Selina Fire. A month after that presentation, I got a committee together to start a Chicago version of Pleasure Salon, and it was awesome! If you’re in Chicago, come out to the next Chicago Pleasure Salon — they’re on first Tuesdays, 6-10, at Villains (649 S. Clark).

+ On the recording I quickly note that I attended a Chicago Bloggers Meetup, but I don’t mention the coolest thing that came out of that meetup: Arvan Reese, who organizes the thing, was inspired to start a new community blog on Sex / Gender / Body! One of my favorite things about doing this sex-positive outreach activism has been seeing my message inspire other people to go out and do similar projects. This movement is gaining some serious traction, people. The Sex / Gender / Body community blog goes live next month, and I’m psyched.

Followup Thoughts and Clarifications

+ I think I was a bit disingenuous about tactics on getting out a diverse audience — because that’s not something at which I am succeeding very well. That is, I think I’ve definitely succeeded at getting people with a huge range of sexual experience out to the Sex+++ Film Series, though the crowd is still a bit slanted towards the BDSM community (of course, that’s the community I’m most personally involved in, so this makes sense). But I have not succeeded at getting out — say — lower-income people. In other words: I’m doing well at some kinds of inclusiveness and outreach, badly at others.

Maymay wrote a great followup KFANYC post, and in the comments I talked about how I think these events are awesome but I really want to see more efforts to get different kinds of participants in on the mix. The sex-positive movement is overwhelmingly white and middle- to upper-middle-class; how can we make the information we offer accessible to other demographics? After I left my comment on Maymay’s post, there were a bunch of really great comments. My favorite was one from subversivesub:

To me, the solution is neither outreach nor (necessarily) changing one’s project but identifying what the absent demographic groups are already doing, or considering if there’s a good reason why those groups aren’t presently part of your group — and may not want to be. I think the question is not so much “how can we get more people involved” but “how can we act in solidarity with people who may not want to organize/act with us but with whom we share some sort of affinity.”

… to which I responded:

I think that the way we develop our communities is, or at least can be, separate from the way we choose to spread information. I also think that we can expand the audience to which we make our information accessible, without changing our community. Indeed, for me, it’s not really a question of getting more people into our community (though that does frequently seem to be a collateral effect of my approach). It’s more a question of ensuring that more people (a) know our community exists in the first place, (b) are not under false impressions regarding our community, and (c) can easily access the information we have to offer.

Of course KFA is a community-building event as well as an information-spreading event. But I am under the strong impression that it is designed and intended mostly an an information-spreading event. This is certainly how I would promote it if I had time to organize one in Chicago.

I think that the approach you suggest — “How can we act in solidarity with people who may not want to organize/act with us but with whom we share some sort of affinity?” — is not actually very different from the approach I am suggesting, which might be summarized as: “How can we frame the information we’re offering such that it is accessible to people who may not want to organize/act with us but with whom we share some sort of affinity?”

So my answer to this question is: I don’t know, and I’m always open to suggestions and conversations about it. In fact, I’m due to have lunch soon with someone who wants to start a kink group for people of color … hopefully I’ll have time to blog about that when it happens, though the list of topics I want to blog on is already as long as my arm ….

I don’t necessarily want everyone to agree with me about everything regarding sex, although I must admit I think it would be super awesome if everyone agreed there is no “should”. But I do, at the least, want everyone to have access to information that can help form healthy, safe, consensual sexuality. I want everyone to know where they can go for that information, and to feel welcome if they seek it out.

+ Another thing I may have been disingenuous about: my immense privilege. I try to be as aware as I can of the incredible privilege I carry through my life: I’m white, upper-middle-class, well-educated, mostly heterosexual, cisgender, able-bodied, naturally slender, with live parents … there’s probably others I’m forgetting. The reason I bring this up is that I think privilege was a hugely important factor in my ability to start the Sex+++ Film Series, and I didn’t acknowledge that enough.

For instance, the most obvious factor: I am privileged to have the familial and personal financial support that enables me to work at an extremely flexible part-time job; I would never have been able to do this free series if I didn’t have a huge amount of spare time. The same goes for a lot of my other activism.

But I still think there’s a lot that everyone can do, even if they don’t have a ton of time or resources! Support local sex-positive events and groups. Write letters to the editor opposing sex-negative press coverage. Try to be frank, open and tolerant about all forms of consensual sexuality in your everyday life — for instance, don’t insult furries at the local BDSM meetup. Outreach and activism aren’t just the domain of dedicated activists: they’re attitudes; they include small habits everyone can get into, small actions anyone can take.

+ Lastly: I stand by my comments on “the orientation model” of sexuality. I still think that our biggest message should not be, “I can’t help my sexuality!” but should rather be, “Whether or not my sexuality is ‘built in’ or a choice, I have the right to do whatever I want with my body and with other consenting adults!”

But we probably shouldn’t entirely abandon the orientation model, because it’s got a lot of legal and cultural power. For instance, check out this recent British Columbia case that could determine whether BDSM becomes a legally protected sexual orientation … i.e., whether it becomes illegal in British Columbia to discriminate against people based on their BDSM choices. My favorite part of that article is the end, which quotes sexologist Charles Moser as he lays out a very clear, eloquent case for BDSM as a sexual orientation.

I’m unwilling to outright reject a powerful potential tool for social acceptance. So on that level, I think it’s cool to talk about BDSM (and all types of alternative sexuality) as an orientation. I just also think that a good priority for the sex-positive movement would be shifting the discourse so that it’s less about whether or not we choose our sexuality, and more about the fact that we have the right to make whatever sexual choices we want.

Deadline approaching: Write for the new Sex / Gender / Body community blog!

A while back, I attended a Chicago Bloggers Meetup. I wasn’t sure what it would be like — how would a group of bloggers on a huge cross-section of topics take the introduction of a BDSM activist into their midst?

As it happened, the group was great and very encouraging; the host, Arvan Reese, gave me the excellent idea of starting a BDSM community blog — that is, a themed blog with many contributors and lots of open community discussion space. I thought about it a bit, but unfortunately I concluded that I didn’t really have time to implement it ….

… except that maybe that wasn’t unfortunate after all, because Arvan got in touch soon after and said: “Actually, I think I want to start a general sexuality community blog myself!”

He and I have met a couple times since then, and I’m really excited about his ideas. He’s got a fair amount of experience with political community sites (examples of which include the iconic DailyKos), and he’s created a great skeleton for this one. It will not only have awesome regular featured writers — there’ll be all kinds of ways for everyone to contribute.

The new sexuality community blog is going to be at SexGenderBody.com. And imagine how flattered I was when, last time we met, Arvan told me that not only had I inspired him to start this blog in the first place … but that he was hoping to use my bite-size sex-positive quotation, There is no “should”, for the Sex / Gender / Body tagline! I call that proof that this site will have its sex-positive priorities in exactly the right places.

A bunch of amazing people have submitted their work for consideration, but we’d love to see more. You know you want to be a featured writer. The deadline’s coming up, but there’s still enough time for you to go for it! Here’s Arvan’s call for writers:

ATTN: Call for Sex/Gender/Body Bloggers and Writers

Do you write about any of these issues and communities?

LGBTQ
TS/TG/TV
FETISH
SEX WORK
POLYAMORY
SWING
BDSM
TRANSHUMAN

Do you work with these communities as an advocate or ally, and do you want to write about your work? Would you like to make an impact across your own affected community and reach out to other SGB communities? Would you like to help bridge the gap among all SGB identities to increase understanding, acceptance, rights and respect?

A new collaborative community blog is being launched that will bring these communities, individuals and issues together in frank, open discussion. Contributions will come from anyone that wants to post at the site, cross-posters from other blogs active in a community, and featured writers.

We are looking for Feature Authors for this site from among the following:

ESTABLISHED BLOGGERS
ADVOCACY AND RIGHTS WRITERS / BLOGGERS
PUBLISHED SGB AUTHORS
SGB JOURNALISTS

Interested parties, please contact ADMIN AT SEXGENDERBODY DOT COM with the following:

NAME
EMAIL / IM / TWITTER
PHONE
SGB ISSUE OR COMMUNITY OF YOUR FOCUS
BLOG ADDRESS
WRITING SAMPLE

The site is scheduled to begin in May 2009. The selection of Feature Authors will be completed by April 15.

Thank you!

Storytime with Clarisse: Switching — have I always been a domme?

I spent last night (that is, Tuesday) at the very first Chicago Pleasure Salon, which went incredibly well! I had an amazing time, and from the feedback I got, lots of other people did too. Pleasure Salon will continue on every first Tuesday, and I’m already looking forward to the next one.

Planning all these sex-positive events keeps me busy, and my non-activist life is eventful, too. Lately, that’s made it hard for me to find time to actually … you know … have romantic encounters and process what’s going on in my head. (I guess that’s ironic, huh?) But although keeping up with myself has been challenging, there’s been an unmistakable shift. Namely, I’ve gone from being “pretty sure” that I’m “mildly” interested in topping, to “dead certain” that I love topping. I thought I might be a switch; now I’m sure. And the way that’s playing out is making me rethink all my previous relationships. (For those unfamiliar with BDSM terms: “switch” refers to a person who feels comfortable either as a top — that is, a dominant and/or sadist — or a bottom — that is, a submissive and/or masochist.)

I’ve written before that I always had sadomasochistic fantasies — since I was very, very young. Apparently, I was wired for BDSM since day one. (I don’t think everyone who practices BDSM feels it as quite such an intrinsic identity, but there are a number of us who do. I’ve had the “you mean, you tied up your Barbie dolls when you were a child too?” conversation many times!) In my early teens I had a bit of a freak-out and repressed it all; then BDSM came and found me almost a decade later. With a vengeance.

I came back into BDSM as a bottom, and it was a crisis. It was impossible to deny how much I wanted it, but I hated it too. On some level, I thought, “Well, this makes perfect sense” — it felt right. But on another level, I was horrified. I couldn’t reconcile my integrity as an independent, rational feminist with my need to be subordinated and hurt. It was a confusing, incredible time. I cried a lot, and I drank a lot, and I didn’t sleep much. I hated how fulfilled my bruises made me feel. It took a while for me to find some semblance of balance.

I adjusted: I took ownership of myself as a bottom. I believed it, accepted it, and gained a huge measure of fulfillment from it. Let me say that again: I’ve gained a huge measure of fulfillment from it. I love feeling agony I can’t escape; I love feeling as though I’m enduring shocking brutality; I love being hurt until I cry …. I love it. I love it.

And yet. I’ve always been a bit controlling, a bit fierce, a bit challenging. (More than a bit, really.) As I began to think of myself seriously as a bottom, I needed a way to mentally slot those personality traits into my new identity. Thus I concluded that I’d “always” been a bottom, but that part of that had “always” been challenging people in an attempt to get them to smack me down. The “bottom” label helped me adjust and figure out what I wanted, but perhaps it limited me, too. I decided that the dominant parts of my personality had always been an attempt to find strength in others; to provoke viciousness; to encourage others to lash out at me and subdue me. I did do some minor topping — but it was very minor. I never saw it as important, as necessary; I didn’t recognize that need the same way I felt my masochistic urges, which were a desperate near-overwhelming craving. I never thought of it as serious.

Still, at the same time, the energy between myself and my significant male partners was always such that outsiders were routinely shocked if they found out that I was the submissive. I guess it was evident that I took on a lot of power in my relationships. When I fell in love, it was with men who focused on me; who poured energy into me; who put a lot of thought into what I wanted, listened closely when I talked, admired me as much as they wanted me. The biggest thing I’ve sought in my lovers has been vulnerability, openness. To feel like they craved me, needed me. To feel like I could shape them. Arguably — to feel that I had a significant measure of actual control.

So.

Recently, I met the first male submissive where the energy between us felt compelling. He got my attention by offering me the gift of his fear … simply saying that he was scared of me. Intrigued, I focused on him, started to watch. Over the course of months we would see each other occasionally at social events; every time I saw him, I felt him more strongly. All we did was talk, but magnetism hung in the air around us like heavy perfume. I remember one conversation we had — our words were so charged that several people around us at the dungeon stopped talking and just watched. When I finally set my nails into him weeks later, it was like I’d been holding my breath. He closed his eyes and flinched against my hands; I finally exhaled.

It was so intense, so different. But as I got into it more, I started seeing how similar it is to the way I’ve acted in the past; and as he started telling me how he thinks about submission, I felt my viewpoint on my own power shift. He told me about how he thought of some childhood fantasies — dreams of being controlled by women in apparently powerless positions … and I thought about some of my own fantasies, of being a captive or a courtesan or in some other overtly powerless position where I nonetheless would have emotional dominance over my captor. He mentioned that he’d thought about dominating, but only as a submissive — taking control only because his partner wanted him to … and I thought about one of the most affecting BDSM encounters I ever had, where my partner reduced me to tears and then put his arms around me and said he’d done it only because he loved me.

You have to be careful with these post-hoc realizations about selfhood. It would be easy for me to go back and edit all my memories and say: “Ah, I see now; at all these points, I thought I was bottoming, but really I was in control. I thought I dreamed of submitting, but really I wanted power.” I still think I’ve always been a bottom, but I wonder at some of the dynamics I’m remembering now. Perhaps one could say that I have also, on some level, always been a domme.

Bottoming is heavy, deep. When I’m doing a good scene as a submissive, I go under. I can barely speak …. Everything blurs into darkness. Doing a good top scene is so different. It sparkles. I laugh. All my words are precise as scalpels. Everything is clear. It’s true that both topping and bottoming make me lose myself, go blank, in a similar sensual-sexual way, and I see commonalities between them. I don’t act the same in both roles, but I want similar things: as a bottom, I dream about bleeding; as a top, I crave blood on my hands. Still, the difference in how I feel when topping vs. bottoming is significant.

So, yes, of course I see why we’ve come up with the top/bottom breakdown. I feel no need to question its existence, or call it unnecessary. Most gender and sexuality theorists these days acknowledge that sex and gender exist on a continuum, rather than as black-and-white absolutes, and I bet there are people out there asserting that there’s no reason for the black-and-white top vs. bottom; but I think that the black-and-white top vs. bottom is useful even if we can’t quite parse it all out. The distinction helps us draw the map, create these acts, decide what exactly will happen between us.

But.

He makes me cry because he loves me. Is he the dom or the sub? I’m a princess locked in a tower, with a strong knight defending me. Does he serve me, or do I belong to him? I’m a beautiful courtesan with haunting eyes, charging fabulous prices for my favors. Am I bending men’s hearts, or doing their bidding?

I still think it’s true that my provocative tendencies can be submissive. That I sometimes seek to create a combative dynamic in the hopes of losing. Craving to fight and be defeated. Craving to be broken, tormented, enslaved — to belong to him ultimately and completely. But I also crave his devotion — I want to own my lover. I crave power over his desire, the agony he endures for me, his ultimate submission. And I crave a shifting dynamic. I pull his head back, laugh low in his ear, I smile as I hurt him until he — overwhelmed — breaks out of my hold and takes control.

Top. Bottom. Switch. Both. All.

I want it all.

This just in

The National Coalition for Sexual Freedom — your friendly neighborhood alternative sexuality advocacy nonprofit — just launched a blog and sent out a message to their volunteers email list asking for input, or potential blog entries. I sent them some formatting suggestions and offered to cross-post some of my material. You might want to, too!

Sex-positive documentary report #5: “Sex, Disability & Videotape” and “Orgasmic Women: 13 Selfloving Divas”

Before discussing the last Sex+++ films, a reminder: next week, April 7th, will not be the next Sex+++ film night because we screen our documentaries every second and fourth Tuesday.

But you know what is happening next Tuesday the 7th? The very first Chicago Pleasure Salon, 6-10PM! Be there or be square. It’s going to be awesome, recurring monthly henceforth. And if you’re on Facebook, you should totally become a fan of the Pleasure Salon Facebook Page.

Onwards!

Last Tuesday, my sex-positive documentary film series screened two documentaries: “Doin’ It: Sex, Disability and Videotape” (courtesy of Beyondmedia Education) and “Orgasmic Women: 13 Selfloving Divas” (courtesy of filmmaker Marianna Beck).

.

Although I see some overlap in the issues addressed by these films, I intended this evening to be our only two-theme night at Sex+++. That is, I wanted to show both these movies, so I put them together — but I wasn’t intending to imply that the two topics (disability and sexuality, and female masturbation) are intrinsically related.

Both movies are so great! Made by the adorable Empowered Fe Fes — a peer group for young women with disabilities — “Doin’ It” does a really wonderful job of showing how disabled people can have awesome romantic relationships, as well as highlighting the stigma and stereotypes faced by disabled people when they seek to explore sexuality. My one major complaint about this film is that it didn’t address alternative sexuality among the disabled. There was nothing about disabled folks who are LGBTQ, or into BDSM, or whatever. Still, it did cover some really important topics that could easily have been missed — for instance, social prejudice against disabled people reproducing. I’m hardly an expert on the topic of disability and sexuality, but this documentary seemed like a pretty good overview to me.

I also loved “Orgasmic Women”. Made for Betty Dodson — the fabulous, famous female sexual pleasure activist — “Orgasmic Women” is all about women who masturbate to orgasm, and how they go about it. It’s great, but with this film too there was an absent topic that frustrated me: the movie gave an incredible overview of female orgasmic practices physically … but not emotionally/mentally.

There’s a wonderful array of viewpoints among the women masturbating onscreen in “Orgasmic Women”, and the viewer gets to watch how widely their approach to masturbation varies, but we heard hardly anything about what they think and feel while they masturbate. Some talked about it in a roundabout way — for instance, some described the circumstances that shape their personal masturbation time, and how they negotiate that. But none of them described what they were fantasizing about, what they imagine, what goes on in their minds when they’re approaching orgasm or coming. Considering how integral fantasies can be to sexual pleasure — and considering that certain types of sexual fantasies remain far more stigmatized that physical sexual pleasure, and would therefore benefit greatly from being brought into the light — I thought this was a huge lack. Still, the film did so much to cover aspects of female sexuality that are never ever talked about — and it covered them so thoroughly!

As I said before, I don’t see these films as intrinsically related … and yet there are important commonalities. The big one for me is that both documentaries have a huge emphasis on owning our bodies. For instance, in “Doin’ It”, the Empowered Fe Fes talk about how others will act as though they own the Fe Fes’ bodies essentially because of their disabilities. Doctors or caretakers will act as though they have the right to make physical decisions about disabled bodies they are treating, or restrict the actions those bodies are allowed to take for reasons beyond good medical ones; relatives will act as though they ought to be able to make important culture-related decisions for the disabled. One girl in the film tells a horrifying story about how her aunt tried to trick her into getting her tubes tied — that is, the girl wanted to have children someday, and her aunt felt this to be an inappropriate desire for a disabled person, so her aunt attempted to have the girl sterilized against her will. Jesus Christ.

In “Orgasmic Women”, the overarching theme is that it’s important for people to take ownership and responsibility over our sexuality. This is especially true for women, whose sexual needs are so socially subordinated to men’s; mainstream models of sexuality all focus on a certain type of male sexual pleasure, and so we women need to really motivate ourselves and think carefully in order to learn about our sexuality. (Of course, the current very limited sexual paradigm doesn’t just screw with women — it ends up disenfranchising men with alternative sexual needs, as well!) With its frankness about female sexual pleasure, “Orgasmic Women” shows how beautifully different sexuality can be among different people, and its subjects make amazing role models of women who know exactly how to take control of their own bodies.

“Doin’ It” highlights the same problem by videotaping the Empowered Fe Fes going on a trip to learn about toys and masturbation from Searah at Early to Bed sex toy store. During the visit, one girl tells the camera about how she learned the “masturbation” sign in sign language. Apparently, there are different signs for male masturbation and female masturbation … but when she was learning sign language, she was only taught the sign for male masturbation. Even though she herself is female. It’s hard to find a more obvious example of how male sexuality is considered most important in our society, and female sexuality is simply … ignored.

Of course, these questions — who owns our bodies, who owns our sexuality — go beyond effective masturbation, or female sexual pleasure, or disability rights. They’re integral to the sex-positive movement. For instance, in pro-BDSM advocacy, this problem manifests as convincing the world that we must be allowed to do whatever consensual things we like with our bodies, even if it “looks like abuse”. Like so many sex-positive conversations, we end up returning to the fact that we must promote enthusiastic consent above all else.

Again, we won’t have a film on April 7th. Come to Pleasure Salon instead! But on April 14th — the second Tuesday of April — Sex+++ will start up again with “Bi The Way”: an examination of bisexuality in America. See you there!