Mono/Poly: How Does That Work?

Around when I graduated from high school, I met my life partner Shawn long-distance.  As a very picky demisexual gray-romantic person, I hadn’t really had a huge abundance of traditional “romantic” or sexual relationships.  When I found out Shawn was monogamous, I thought, “Okay, I can roll with that.”  After all, the situation was such a rarity, so why not?

A few years later and I figured out that wasn’t going to work.  Funnily enough, the thing that made me realize that wasn’t even a sexual relationship.  I’d met a friend I love deeply (what she and I have always called “a thing that’s not a thing”), and suddenly it occurred to me that after school is over, deep friendships like that are usually frowned upon by monogamous society.  I started learning about concepts like “emotional cheating,” and began to feel I was perhaps being unfair to everyone, especially myself.

So I told Shawn over the phone that I couldn’t pretend to be monogamous, and that our relationship as it was needed to change.

He promptly misunderstood, believing I was dumping him, and pre-emptively dumped me instead.  I had to drive across the country to apologize for my very poor communication.

That wasn’t the end of our relationship though; it was in many ways the beginning.

Now and again somebody asks me how I can be in a relationship with a monogamous person and still be polyamorous.  This seems like a good topic to address since a lot of people are curious.  Recently for example, a stranger messaged me about my FL profile and asked:

“How does that work, "I'm poly, he's not", in the framework of a committed relationship? Does he begrudgingly allow you to have sex with other people, or do you deprive yourself of it for the sake of you relationship?”

The answer is “no to both.”  

There’s no begrudging and no deprivation.  I cannot deprive myself of sex (or especially, intimacy) for the sake of a relationship, pretending to be monogamous for the sake of convenience.  Doing so would actually lead to the destruction of the relationship.  It would be dishonest and unfair to both of us, as I was in the beginning when I foolishly underestimated the importance of my orientation.  It almost did lead to the death of the relationship.

Shawn for his part doesn’t begrudgingly “allow” anything.  I owe him communication and honesty, not obedience.  He’s not jealous, and wants me to be happy.  He isn’t begrudgingly tolerant of my orientation, nor of my relationships, because he knows that they make me better.  Without being able to pursue meaningful, intimate relationships and be true to them, I could not be true to myself or to him.  He deserves the best in me, and living a lie would not make me my best.  If I were to live a lie for his sake, how could he trust me?  And if I would sacrifice another relationship for his sake, how could he know I would not one day sacrifice my relationship with him?  People are not expendable.  I will not treat them as if they are.

Neither of us has to make a sacrifice to be together.  Unless you count time and care to understand and build trust, but I call that “having a relationship.”  There’s no reason these situations can’t work just fine for a lot of people.  I’m not saying it can work for everyone—it depends on what you want and need in your life.  But a mono/poly group on FetLife has more than 2,300 members!  That should tell you how common this type of thing is.  Two or more people with different orientations can love each other and build a happy life together.

So what about jealousy?  That brings us to my next point ... 

Jealousy Stems from Insecurity

Jealousy is a pretty minute part of my emotional makeup, but I recognize that for a lot of people, it's a big deal.  Jealousy is a dangerous and unhealthy emotion.  I have never in my life witnessed a noble deed born of it, only misery, anger and oppression.  It leads people to tear apart the ones they love and set ultimatums where the price for a relationship is integrity, honesty, trust, and ultimately, love itself.  I feel completely within my rights to assert this, because I used to be a very jealous person when I was young.

Jealousy stems from insecurity.  We live in a society where monogamy is the norm.  Since we are taught that you can have only one super special relationship, it is natural that people worry that they will be left forever if their loved one starts another super special relationship with somebody else.  After all, society wants to force them to choose.  So even someone who doesn’t want to choose typically will.  Even if it tears their own soul apart.

Some people really are hard-wired to only love one person or only find one person attractive.  Those people will always choose, and they should, because that’s who they really are; they really are monogamous.  A lot of people aren’t like that though, and they should never be asked to make a choice that doesn't honour their relationships, their love, and their will.

Monogamy is so ingrained by social norms that I frankly wouldn’t be shocked if isn’t even the majority orientation once you strip away social convention.  I believe many people are capable of deep, loving relationships with more than one person than realize it, and may simply lack the courage or assurance to proceed.  Since their lives are ruled by fear and insecurity, they never find out.

Dealing with Insecurity

There is no need for jealousy or terrible choices where there is honesty, mutual respect, and commitment.  Will there still be insecurity?  Of course!  Most people are insecure in some way or other, whether they’re poly or monogamous.  The key to a successful relationship is to communicate about insecurities.  We have to learn to understand, forgive, and assure others when they are insecure, and learn to recognize our own insecurities for what they really are: illusions.  They shouldn’t be given undue reverence.    

A monogamous person may worry that their poly loved one will abandon them for another, because it is what they would do, but that doesn’t make it true (as an addendum, I don't mean to imply that serial monogamy is ubiquitous--just that this can be a common source of insecurity).  And a polyamorous person may worry that their monogamous partner will leave them out of their own insecurity—but that doesn’t make it true.

The reason Shawn and I can be together is that we share a relationship of honesty, trust and respect.  And yes, we both have insecurities.  He has abandonment issues, and so do I.  In fact, there’s a part of me that will always be insecure because of the incident related at the start of this entry, even knowing full well it was a simple miscommunication.  Would he be more comfortable if I were monogamous?  Probably.  Would I be more comfortable if he wasn’t?  Probably.  But we are both wired the way we are wired, and we love each other as we are—and all that matters is our commitment to one another.  Love, as I recently mentioned in another post, is not mere convenience.

So yeah, now and again I dread another pre-emptive strike.  And now and again, he probably fears I’ll walk out the door.  But we are so much more than the sum of our insecurities, and we live that fact every day.

How This Works With Regard to Sex

I don’t deprive myself of sex for the sake of my partner, though I rarely experience attraction.  I have faith that if an opportunity arose which was really worth it, it would work.  I would be extra cautious going into a physical relationship with anyone, but this would be true even were Shawn polyamorous himself!  Sex is complicated, and should be handled with care. 

How This Works With Regard to Intimacy

I don’t believe that anyone can get everything they need—or give everything they have to offer—to a solitary person and be doing them any sort of service.  What Shawn and I have is unique to us, and we share things that I couldn’t share with others.  But likewise, other people can share aspects of my life and interests that he cannot—and the same goes for him, I am sure. 

There is no single person who can rejoice deeply and fully in every aspect of who we are—not without being our own mirror image.  That said, someone who loves us can respect those aspects 100% and rejoice that we share them with those who can fully appreciate them.  As an example, I am kinky and Shawn is not.  It’d be stressful at best, traumatic at worst to try and persuade him into sharing that with me.  But if I found someone I could explore that with in a meaningful way, he would support it, knowing the fulfillment it would bring to my life would reflect positively in my relationship with him as well.

I’ve noticed that some people are what I would call “hyper-monogamous.”  They not only are incapable of more than one sexual relationship, but are incapable of more than one deeply emotional or committed relationship of any nature.  Intimacy of any variety is reserved for one person.  Everyone else is way down on the ladder.

My partner is sexually monogamous, but he is not hyper-monogamous; he is capable of intimacy with others, and a sense of belonging to a closely knit community (a family, really) is central to his being.  And polyamory is not all about sex, or even mostly.  So from that point of view, I don’t really see that we differ all that much on a fundamental level. 

Polyamory for Me Is ...

Everyone has a different definition of polyamory.  This is mine, as applies to my life:

Polyamory:  Where partners have the freedom to allow their relationships to take their natural course, whatever that might be.

Plain and simple.  By that definition, Shawn actually is as polyamorous as I am.  He simply has no natural desire for sex with more than one person.  But like me, he does not constrain his relationships based on existing ones, and allows intimacy to flourish however it feels right to him.

I don’t devalue non-sexual relationships.  In fact, almost all my most important relationships have been non-sexual in nature—but deeply intimate.  I am, in my own way, deeply in love with all those I get close to, even those I have zero sexual or physical interest in.  I define friendship by this kind of love.  Shawn (who is always supportive of these relationships, and displays compersion, not jealousy, in regards to them) is also capable of deep relationships outside our own. 

… Which essentially gives us considerable common ground—despite our differing preferences when it comes to sex.

So yes, mono/poly relationships can work—and the line between monogamy and polyamory is a lot blurrier than a lot of people think anyway!  Healthy mono/poly relationships have nothing to do with begrudging allowances or self-deprivation.  They have everything to do with mutual respect, love, and trust—and the understanding that when insecurities do arise, they can be worked through rationally and lovingly without turning into jealousy or resentment. 

Shawn and every person I love in my life is 100% unique and irreplaceable, and so are their relationships with me.  They don’t fit neatly inside quaint little categories or rank on a scale of relative significance, because people aren’t categories—they are individuals.  And that is exactly why they don’t have to feel insecure with me.  Because I never, ever could replace any one of them and would never try to.  Even the people I lose are never replaced—the holes left in my heart are permanent, because no one else can ever fit inside them.  That’s the risk to my heart with every relationship I enter.

I’ll close with a link to a wonderful post by my friend Mike: http://othersidesthoughts.blogspot.com/?zx=ddb82d6b3b769a57

Here’s a quote:

“Our culture has idealized this holy state of "dating" or "being in a relationship", when all it really means is you both get something out of spending time with the other person. And this is where I stumble with respect to monogamy - because I get something out of every relationship I have, not just ones that end up naked and in bed.”

Just perfect.

Thanks for reading - and remember, this post focused specifically on my personal experiences :)  Your mileage may vary!

On "Alpha Males"

As an author, I regularly find myself on Smashwords  browsing the front page, which is mostly porn.  One of the biggest trends right now in porn (and in life in general, judging from all the how-to manuals out there) is an obsession with "alpha males."  I'm pretty sure most writers who use that phrase have no idea what it actually is supposed to refer to.  I have a whole post I want to make on the awesomeness of beta folks, but that's another post.

In the meantime, here is an amusing analysis of the alpha male trend in seven parts - as well as the female counterpart who is generally paired with this alpha male.

I will say that I have finally figured out what, in general, turns me off about so much of what turns other people on.  I don't really care about the backwards gender concepts that make people happy in the privacy of their own minds or bedrooms--it isn't my business.  But I do find it irritating and somewhat distressing that those concepts are so regularly and aggressively promoted as norms by the culture, and that the stratification of society is actually eroticized.  I'm fed up to here hearing about the "primal urges" of men and women, and the "natural roles" of sexes or genders or individuals who fall into one category or another (or don't).  There is no "natural" role for anyone as a member of a group.  There may be a natural role for you as an individual, but that is about who you are, not what is between your legs.  Maybe it matches social norms, maybe it doesn't.  That part doesn't matter.  It's not because you're a member of a group, it's because you're you.

As a switch, I am fascinated by and often inspired by power exchanges between individuals.  But power exchanges across groups?  Never.  And nowadays with the 50 Shades deluge of shit, we have a whole lot of writers casually equating this "alpha male" nonsense with BDSM.  Let's just add to all the misconceptions, shall we?  Browsing through most of the titles out there these days, you'd naturally assume most men are dominant and most women are submissive and that's the way nature made them.  Not only does this not match any of the real life data I've encountered, but the main "alpha male" trait (which appears to equate to "be an asshole") has nothing whatsoever to do with being a good dominant.  Most of these "alpha men" are the last people in the world you'd want tying you up or giving you orders.  Weakness masquerades as strength, oppression as power.

"It's only fiction."  I hear that excuse thrown around so often, but literature is part of what creates the culture, what creates our ideas of norms.  And when the message is so often the same, again and again and again on loop, when writers package stories about sex or relationships a certain way because they believe they will sell or because they "should" be that way, that cultural message is drilled into peoples' brains.  We're told what a man should be, we're told what a woman should be.  And anyone outside that binary?  They may as well not exist at all, along with anyone who does identify as a man or woman but does not agree with the definitions they're being sold.

These are really damaging social messages, and the writers who promote them are damaging.  It isn't "just" fiction, it's sexual politics.

Love Is Not Mere Convenience

I was just catching up on my good friend Mike's blog over at The Other Side's Thoughts, and ran into this entry, which in turn is about this blog post over on Salon, "I'm a Lesbian Marrying a Man."

The original post by EJ Levy is excellent and a wonderful, insightful read into the struggles of finding support for an identity that isn't seemingly mirrored by external appearances.

The sexual orientation of Levy and her male spouse obviously aren't a "match", but why should that mean Levy and her spouse are not a match?  I don't know how Levy identifies romantically, but she seems to be me to be panromantic, at least as mirrors my own personal experiences.  A person can easily be a lesbian and panromantic.  She may have zero sexual attraction to her husband, but she can still share a romantic bond with him.  And hell, even if she didn't, why would it matter?  There are many reasons for marrying a person.  Not the least of which seems to be strangely absent from peoples' minds in this case (just scroll down to read the hateful, close-minded, horrible comments Levy has gotten) ... and that's love.  Pure and simple.  Love.  Love does not equal sex.  Sex does not equal love.  Certainly not for everyone.

I enjoyed Mike's observations as well as his spouse Ash's, and in particular, his discussion of their own marriage and how their own orientations don't entirely match.  Mike and Ash also may not be 100% compatible in every way, but who really is?  They love each other, are honest with each other, and strive to understand, and not to judge.  Their relationship celebrates their differences as well as their similarities, and they strive together to be happy and live a meaningful life.  That goes far beyond orientation.  Strong relationships recognize wants and needs--but do not necessarily thrive on being able to satisfy all of them directly.  They do nurture those wants and needs in whatever ways they can.

My own relationship is likewise built fundamentally on love, trust and understanding.  My partner is heterosexual, and finds me sexually attractive since I am female.  He isn't 100% compatible with me in every way though.  We may be sexually compatible, but he doesn't share my kinks, and I don't expect him to.  But our partnership is built on knowing we have each others' backs.  He supports my kinks, even if he doesn't share them.  He supports the fact that I am polyamorous.  He also supports me as a member of the LGBTQ+ community, even though his identity falls nowhere under that umbrella.  I believe if I had been born a man and we had met, we would still be living together (platonically).  Fundamentally the love our relationship is built on would still be there.  

The bottom line is this:  Love is so much more than mere convenience.  

Are you a Hashtag … or a Person?

While it’s topical, a quick post on Gamergate.  I don’t care to delve in-depth into this issue, largely because it has become convoluted to the point where it is nearly impossible to talk about it intelligently if you haven’t been following it closely.  I certainly recognize the incredibly violent backlash from the straight-white-male-dominant-group as a familiar one though.  As this fabulous Guardian article states, the world increasingly does not revolve around this once-all-powerful group, and some of these guys don’t know how to deal.  They are becoming increasingly vociferous as their power slips away—and that is dangerous.

The line in the article that really grabbed me though was this:

“The promise of the early internet was that it would liberate us from our bodies, and all the oppressions associated with prejudice. We’d communicate soul-to-soul, and get to know each other as people, rather than judging each other based on gender or race.” – Alice Marwick

Considering how much the Gamergate case has involved online harassment of people outside the straight-white-male group, the quote is highly relevant.

It’s funny though that I’d see this quote today, because I was just thinking this morning that the internet did seem to promise that liberation in the beginning.  And for me, at least for a little while, it actually delivered.  It was only a few years … but I do remember a time before those white-straight-male assumptions fell into place.  I suppose it was back in those early-adopter days before the bulk of humanity swarmed the online ethers. That was before the rise of Facebook and Twitter and a thousand other services demanding that you post your “real” name and identity online.  Back when people cared about their privacy.  Back when we had, you know, screen-names.   

Of course, all of this raises the question of what a real identity is, and that's kind of my point here.

My own blog is pseudonymous out of fear of reprisals should my own identity as a kinky pansexual transgender person surface in my online workplace.  Homophobia is rampant there, and if you are so much as suspected of being gay, you will face a fast falling-out.  It’s actually a rare community where anonymity still is prized, and if you think about it, this is ironic—but it echoes the point of the Guardian article.  Even in an identity-free land, people are still assumed to be white, straight males.  If they are not, they are not necessarily welcome.  Exceptions are occasionally made.  I'm accepted there as a woman, despite the misogyny that prevails in that community.  But my reputation would not necessarily survive any further disclosures about my orientation or gender identity.

Despite these major shortcomings, I love working online.  Why?  Because I am not immediately judged on sight by my age, sex, race, and so on.  I am judged for my skill at what I do.  It is in a sense all an illusion, because as mentioned above, you are judged the moment your anonymity fractures.  But the internet has in a very real sense liberated me to be respected as a professional within that envelope of anonymity.  I'd much rather be respected as professional without having to conceal details of my life, but this is a good middle ground for now.  The reality is, my identity goes way beyond my age and sex and race.  Isn't the quality of my work more integral to who I really am?  In that sense, anonymity, at least on that level, is quite valid.

In my particular case, I consider my orientation equally integral though, which is why this situation is not completely satisfactory.  I am not my age, sex or race.  Those are coincidences, and deserve no notice.  My orientation on the other hand at least is half-choice--and I would like to be respected for that.  That is valid.  That is part of my real identity.

The early days of the internet were incidentally when I was growing up.  I was right at a formative age where a lot was going to be decided about my future.  During that time, a lot of people kept their real-life “identities” to themselves online, and did liberate themselves from their bodies and from prejudice.  I actually did get a chance to communicate soul-to-soul.  I came to love people not based on their age, sex, gender, orientation, or nationality, but for their interests, passions, values, personalities, and choices.  I even knew one person who was so obsessed with enforcing this policy with his relationships that I didn’t know the first thing about his age, sex, race, etc. until years had gone by.  I loved him without caring if he was a man or a woman, whether he was 15 or 95, whether he was black or white.  And that’s how I try to love everyone.  Because that is what real life is--not a collection of labels and coincidences of birth.  Real life is our choices.

In hindsight, I think that time online in those bygone days was what solidified my pansexual and panromantic identity.  I had, for all too brief a time, the wonderful experience of meeting people with their skin peeled away, and contacting their souls first.  This still happens now and again, but so seldom.  This experience stripped me of any remaining programming I might have retained from a strict and prejudicial upbringing.  I realized how unimportant labels were.  Loving someone—that’s all that matters.  And that is why I differentiate my orientation from many of the other labels affixed to me.  I do choose how I relate to others, how I love others.

Then came Facebook and all the rest, and so much for the age of self-discovery and identity exploration online.  Now those days are gone, and the internet is a stark reminder of the truth.  Now, with everyone encouraged to share their offline "identities" online, it is easier than ever to target and harass others.  People say it's about safety, and maybe to a small extent it is, but it’s mostly about control.  Most people don’t want liberation.  And so our offline identities—along with our online identities—are constrained. We're not really sharing our real identities online at all.  We're sharing a list of labels which were slapped on us at birth or later in our lifetimes.

And so we forget.  We aren’t a batch of labels and hashtags.  Our souls get buried in the morass of data.  

And we don’t meet people—we collate them.  And that has been going on since the dawn of time.  Technology could have helped us end that cycle, and it still could.  But it is up to us to rise to the occasion.

... Because 50 Shades of Grey Can Never Be Slammed Enough

50 Shades of Grey is an absolutely terrible book.  I say this shameless of the fact I haven't read a page of it.  All I need to know is that E.L. James, a woman who knows absolutely nothing about BDSM, decided to randomly grab her misconception of BDSM and use it to sensationalize a story about sexual abuse.  *Not* a story about BDSM.  Of course, this has led to an absolute deluge of misinformation--not to mention a frighteningly large number of women who seem to think abuse is sexy.  And misconceptions about BDSM were already rampant enough before this "author" decided to add to the damage.  

I struggled with my identification as a sadomasochist for ... oh, the overwhelming majority of my life in large part because I couldn't relate to the ridiculous media portrayals of BDSM.  Perhaps the *only* good thing to come out of the existence of this awful book is a large number of discussions and many opportunities to correct these misconceptions when I find them.

For this reason, there simply cannot be too many rants about 50 Shades of Grey.  So I will re-share my friend Mike's latest post, just on principle. Read it here:

http://othersidesthoughts.blogspot.com/2014/10/fifty-shades-of-grey-bdsm-and-abuse.html

Here are just a few of the problems I am aware of with this book:

• Grey coerces a sexually inexperienced woman into signing a contract as an ultimatum.
• Grey has no clue what aftercare is.
• Grey ignores their safe word.
• Anastasia ignore's Grey's own limits.
• Grey literally stalks Anastasia and is bent on controlling every aspect of her life--without her consent.
• Grey makes Anastasia miserable, not happy, the majority of the time, yet she seems OK with this.
• The "BDSM" practiced in this book is literally unsafe, yet presented as if it is totally normal.
• Anastasia does not seem to actually be a submissive or a masochist, and merely puts up with it in the hopes that she can eventually manipulate Grey into marrying her and doing what she wants him to do (in other words, she is abusive as well).
• Grey claims to be be a dominant as a result of sexual abuse he endured as a child.  This perpetuates a false stereotype that BDSM is a psychological symptom of trauma.
• Grey offers to give up BDSM at the end because he apparently doesn't need it anymore now that he finally has the right woman (yep, apparently you can outgrow a kink).  Of course, she humors him and lets him keep it since she won.
• No one mentions this, but ultimately, isn't this basically just a book about a woman trying to "fix" a man?  A billionaire man?  I doubt you'd see this same novel about a poor man.  Time tested formula, again, sensationalized with bullshit about BDSM which simply isn't true.

I think it is worth mentioning that you will meet a fair number of people in the BDSM world who do use BDSM to process traumas--the difference is that the kink is not a symptom of the trauma--but rather a healing antidote.  A symptom perpetuates negative energy.  An antidote transmutes negative energy into positive growth.

For the record ...

BDSM is NOT about:

• Coercion or subjugation of anybody's will
• Perpetuating a cycle of abuse
• Ignoring limits or safety protocols
• Stalking
• Making another person feel unhappy or unsafe.
• Misogyny 
• Going through a "phase" until you find the perfect vanilla relationship

BDSM IS about:

• Safe, sane consensual activities between mature adults
• Healing and catharsis
• Trust, happiness, and care
• Sharing a comfortable, positive relationship where partners are valued equally and treat each other with respect

Emma Watson on Feminism

Lately, the talented and beautiful Emma Watson has been taking a lot of flak online from narrow-minded types who don't like that she made a speech about feminism.  These days there are a lot of folks screaming "social justice warrior!" at anyone who dares stand up for a cause.  The first time I heard the SJW term, I was amused.  In theory it was invented to refer to those people online who "stand up" voraciously for causes they don't actually care about--in order to garner attention and stir up controversy.  And yes, the internet is full of those types.

But now the SJW term is lobbed at anyone who stands up for any cause, including one they believe in passionately.  This is an easy way to insult someone and avoid thoughtful engagement.

To me Ms. Watson sounds borderline terrified - in part I think this is probably just from the pressure of speaking in front of the UN, but I also believe it is because she is deeply passionate about the issue and knows there is so much at stake.  The speech is well worth watching from beginning to end, and I really admire her passion.

The transcript is here:  http://www.unwomen.org/en/news/stories/2014/9/emma-watson-gender-equality-is-your-issue-too

My favourite part is this:

"I’ve seen young men suffering from mental illness unable to ask for help for fear it would make them look less “macho”—in fact in the UK suicide is the biggest killer of men between 20-49 years of age; eclipsing road accidents, cancer and coronary heart disease. I’ve seen men made fragile and insecure by a distorted sense of what constitutes male success. Men don’t have the benefits of equality either.

We don’t often talk about men being imprisoned by gender stereotypes but I can see that that they are and that when they are free, things will change for women as a natural consequence.

If men don’t have to be aggressive in order to be accepted women won’t feel compelled to be submissive. If men don’t have to control, women won’t have to be controlled.

Both men and women should feel free to be sensitive. Both men and women should feel free to be strong… It is time that we all perceive gender on a spectrum not as two opposing sets of ideals."


This is brilliant, and something we so seldom hear anyone talk about. Feminism at its heart (and at its best) is about gender equality--for men, women, and non-binary persons. These issues are all deeply interconnected. When one group is oppressed, all groups are oppressed.

But perhaps the deeper issue here is how we define groups in the first place.

Originally I found this speech here. At that link, you can also read an equally brilliant response by Ed Holtom, one that I love even more, because it goes a step further into non-binary territory, and speaks about dismantling gender concepts instead of redefining them. Here is a great excerpt:

"Recently we’ve been hearing about what it means to be ‘masculine’ and what it means to be ‘feminine’. It means nothing, barring biological differences. By perceiving these two words as anything other than the description of a human’s genitalia, we perpetuate a stereotype which is nothing but harmful to all of us."

This echoes what I said in my most recent blog post. "Come to think of it, isn't that more or less a working definition of what gender is? A stereotype for members of a given sex?"

In theory, I don't care at all how other people want to define themselves as "masculine" or "feminine" or whatever. We create meaning each day of our lives, and we each have a right to create the meaning that lights up our own lives in a way which makes sense to us. If for a certain person, that involves gender concepts, great - that is perfect for them.

But they do not have the right to transpose their subjective meanings on the world around them as though those meanings are objective fact, and nobody has the right to try and force their meaning of gender or sexuality on somebody else. The deep-seated reverence with which these social constructs are upheld by society at large Needs. To. End. By all means, honour the constructs which mean something to you in your own private life. But respectfully do not try and inflict them on others, who find meaning - and freedom - in other ways.

Stereotypes vs. Realities

My whole life, I’ve noticed that just as there are certain expectations for cultural norms for the “mainstream,” there are cultural norms expected of “alternative” sexualities and orientations. 

Think about the person who thinks he can use his “gaydar” to recognize a gay guy walking down the street.  Asked why, he might say the man seemed to have effeminate gestures, a certain haircut, or simply dressed nice.  Really, what does all of that mean?  What makes a gay man a "typical" gay man?

My articulate friend Mike recently wrote a paragraph in a blog post I thought was pretty genius:

“Of course a huge part of this disconnect is the basic assumption society makes that anything that isn't obviously different therefore isn't different. This is what happens to bisexual folks all the time; a bisexual male married to a female is assumed to be straight, while a bisexual male married to a male is assumed to be gay... Even though it's never more than just an assumption. Similarly, anything that isn't obviously kinky is assumed to not be kinky... Even though often enough that isn't the case.”

Immediately I was reminded of some of my own experiences.  I am surprised on the rare occasion that someone guesses my sexual orientation, my gender identity, or the fact that I am kinky.  It happens so rarely.  In college, a lot of men hit on me (well, boys) … heck, practically every male I said more than three words to made a pass at me at some point or other.  Women though?  About three total, and two of them merely hoping to get me as a third to amuse a man—and only because they had heard from someone or other that I was pansexual.  For some reason, a lot of folks seem to translate pansexual or bisexual to "will sleep with anything."  Only one woman ever actually guessed I was pansexual and not straight.

I don’t think it was that there were a stupendously small number of gay or bisexual women on a campus with 40,000 students in a fairly diverse city.  I’m pretty sure it was just that I don’t fit the stereotypical image many people—including other gay people—have of a woman who likes other women.  I wear a lot of dresses and skirts, I have long flow-y hair (okay, not so much the flow-y part), and I in no way appear “butch.” 

Here is a scene from The 40 Year Old Virgin—which is hilarious—that depicts the way a lot of people really actually think they can recognize gay men:

This is also a good time to watch “Keep It Gay” from The Producers!  This video is camp-tastic.  It doesn't make fun of gay people--it makes fun of gay stereotypes.  That's what makes it camp-tastic.

While we’re at it, John Barrowman, who appears briefly in The Producers, and who stars in the absolutely wonderful Torchwood (which I promise to write much about in the future), was at one point considered for the role of Will in the show Will and Grace.  Hilariously, he was rejected to play a gay man because he “’wasn’t gay enough”—despite the fact that he is gay in real-life … and the actor who was eventually cast as Will is straight. 

In the interview, Barrowman says he thinks he was rejected because people in America would be uncomfortable with a real gay man playing the role.  I've also heard him state that he feels he was rejected because he didn't fit the stereotype they wanted to project.  And as he says, he was just "being himself."

"Lipstick lesbian"

There is supposedly a phrase for someone like me:  A “lipstick lesbian,” according to Wikipedia, is a lesbian or bisexual woman who “exhibits a greater amount of feminine gender attributes relative to other gender expressions, such as wearing make-up, wearing dresses or skirts, or having other characteristics associated with feminine women.”

The clincher (besides the fact that you even need a word to denote this--apparently it is such a rarity!), is that the term “lipstick lesbian” in real life has actually come to refer to bicurious women or women who engage in lesbian activities in public in order to entertain or shock others. So if someone actually called me a "lipstick lesbian," they'd be way off-base in describing me.  

I think this sends an obvious message.  Someone who looks like me is actually suspected of being not a real lesbian or bisexual/pansexual woman!  

Frankly I do not understand this.  Why does the society expect me to change my personal aesthetics simply because I find women attractive?  I enjoy grace and elegance, and these days, you find that largely in “feminine” attire.  I like my long hair.  It has nothing to do with whom I happen to be attracted to.  And actually, generally speaking, I am attracted to what I find aesthetically appealing.  I do like women in dresses and long hair.  Hell, I also like men who wear makeup, have their hair long, and wear elegant clothing.  It’s certainly not a “must,” but it’s nice.

Self Beyond Stereotypes

This brings me around to gender.  There’s another one that nobody would guess.  I don’t think a single person I’ve met has ever guessed I’m transgender.  Even after I tell them, they can't entirely grok it unless they are also transgender.  I like the things I like—things that today are considered feminine.  Several centuries ago, my interest in fashion and elegance would not have been considered particularly feminine or masculine.  Men in many past epochs were very preoccupied with fashion!  Most of them had long hair too.  That short hair thing came about largely because of the industrial revolution.  Long hair wasn't safe around the machines.

The point is, these are just things.  There is nothing inherently female or male about them.  These categorizations are arbitrarily assigned and have changed many times throughout human history and from culture to culture.  My identity is not bound and circumscribed by my place and time.  I don’t identify as a gender because I am not a set of manufactured concepts.  What is real in me transcends what comes and goes.  

But because those manufactured concepts are what people see as real or important, they expect a transgender woman who identifies as non-binary to exhibit traits they consider non-binary.  They expect someone who looks androgynous or exhibits more “male” traits—by their definitions.  They fail to grasp that I am transgender because I lack those definitions.

Come to think of it, isn't that more or less a working definition of what gender is?  A stereotype for members of a given sex?  

And Now Onto Kink

I’d also like to come around to kink, the topic that Mike was originally posting on.  People who actually are kinky usually aren’t surprised to find out I am, but people who aren’t kinky generally seem caught off guard.  Why?  Probably because their image of kink is tied to the obviously different.  Do they expect me to actually walk down the grocery store aisle dressed in head-to-toe latex and carrying a whip?  Do they think I'm going to bark endless orders and speak in a German accent with my hair pulled back tight?  Do they think I'm a sex addict?  These are all common media images.

What's worse, the vast majority of times that kink comes up in films, it’s when characters are having some kind of psychotic break with reality—which is just completely off-base when it comes to real life.  One of the only exceptions I am aware of is the film Secretary, which is a gem.  See it if you haven’t; it’s not the most realistic film in the world (though it pokes fun at its own absurdity), but it stands out because it is about not obviously different people who are kinky--very kinky, as in 24/7.  They also are not having a psychotic break with reality; on the contrary, their story is one of healing.

But most vanilla people don’t get to see that side of kink.  They see over-the-top or downright inaccurate representations in the media that portray kink as something “dark” or “edgy,” and then they look at a “nice girl” like me and they’d never even guess.  And so again, I find myself invisible.  The reality is, the average kinky person is like the characters in Secretary—someone you would never guess about if you passed them in the street.  I’ve never heard a kinky person actually go on about their “dark” lifestyle (or perceive it as one).  So where the perception of the world at large is concerned … the average real kinky person is invisible.

Where Do Stereotypes Come From?

Some stereotypes are created and perpetuated by the actual groups they are about.  Odds are at some point in your life, you have met people who perfectly match the stereotypes you may have of them.  In fact, there are entire subcultures tied to sexualities.  The traits in question are community traits, rather than traits intrinsically tied to the orientations in question.

Why do these community traits spring into being?  I think to some extent it is quite an innocent thing—a desire to feel a sense of inclusion and to signal others that you belong to their in-group.  Fashion sense is a good example of something that makes it easier to identify other in-group members.  

Other stereotypes—most stereotypes—are driven by the media, which loves to sensationalize what it does not understand.  When the media creates and perpetuates stereotypes, it does not do so out of kindness, and the result is one of exclusion.

Who can honestly say what the average bisexual person looks like?  Or the average transgender person?  Or the average straight person?  Yes—these principles apply to members of the dominant groups as well.  Consider a straight man who wears makeup or watches chick flicks—or macrames himself a pair of jean-shorts.  Because popular stereotypes match his behavior with that of a gay man, he may find himself incorrectly judged as one.

The bottom line is, you can try and guess at a person’s orientation by looking at them, but you cannot know. Does it matter that I’m invisible—that people I meet are likely to make incorrect assumptions about my orientation or gender identity?  On one hand, no, the average person doesn’t really need to know that I’m one thing or another (however irritating it is to be regularly mistaken as something you're not), but on the other hand, yes—it matters that they believe they do know.

What people do need to know is that there is more variety around them than meets the eye.  Many eyes have been fashioned by exposure to stereotypes, blinded to all else.  They need to know the spectrum is wider than they think.  Yes, many people match their stereotypes.  And many more people do not.

And really, that’s why I decided to write this blog.  To be visible, and give visibility to others.

The Labeling Problems of “Same” and “Other” in Sexuality

Recently, I was remarking to a friend that while growing up, I never noted being attracted to the same sex or the other sex.  I never thought of being attracted to someone like me or different than me.  I simply thought, “Men are attractive, and so are women.”  When I eventually figured out that trans people were out there too, I thought, “More attractive people!  Awesome!”  Hell, if there were some hypothetical intelligent aliens in an alternative universe, I’d probably find them attractive as well, regardless of their sexual bits (or otherwise).

So for this reason I always have found the terms “heterosexual” and “homosexual” somewhat puzzling (as well as the respective “heteroromantic” and “homoromantic”).  “Pansexual,” the word for my orientation, happily does not make any reference to “same” or “other,” which suits me.  When I think of why I find people attractive, it is primarily because the inner person (who is utterly unique) shines.  As a very distant second, it is because their outer form is pleasing to me.  But it is never because they are the “same” as me, and never because they are “other” or “opposite.”  I simply find them beautiful.

Left to my own devices in a world with no terms for orientations, I imagine I never would have thought of coming up with terms like “attracted to same” and “attracted to other.”  I probably would’ve come up with a completely different word-system.  Something more like “virisexual” and “femisexual,” in other words, “attracted to men” and “attracted to women.”  Bisexual and pansexual probably would have stayed the same, since neither makes any comment on the sex or gender of the person who is feeling the attraction.

And what if you’re transgender?  What if you identify as two genders, or a third gender, or no gender at all?  What if your concept of gender is fluid?  For that matter, what if you aren’t even physically male or female?  What if you’re hermaphroditic?  Ideas of same and opposite apply even less.  As a transgender person identifying as non-binary, it’s easy for me to talk about my sexuality accurately, because I happen to be pansexual.  “Attracted to all categories” is fairly accurate, and makes no comment on my sex or gender.  But what if I were only attracted to women?  I couldn’t honestly say I would consider myself to be homosexual, even though I’m in a female body.  The “same” label would not be accurate regarding gender, even if it would be when referring to my physical sex.

When Labels Make It Easy to Discriminate

My friend made an observation in response to this that I thought was fairly genius.  If we did use terms like “virisexual” and “femisexual” instead of “heterosexual” and “homosexual” when referring to broad groups, it would be harder to discriminate.  Why?  Because if you roundly condemned femisexual people, for example, you would not only be condemning all women who liked women, but also all men who liked women.  The majority would be condemned right along with the minority. 

Because the labels we do have make a comment about the sex or gender of the person they are about, they are convenient for discrimination.  It is easy for someone in the majority who feels prejudicial to stand up and say, “I hate homosexuals,” because they are referring specifically to a minority, and feel safe doing so.  It would be harder for them to stand up and say, “I hate femisexuals!” because they would be referring to members of the majority as well—maybe even to themselves or their partners or members of their own political party.

You could say this is all academic, because the labels are unlikely to change anytime soon, but it does make you wonder if someone had this in mind once upon a time when they came up with words like “heterosexual” and “homosexual.” 

The Gay Narcissism Charge

Also related to this topic is the oft-heard accusation by anti-gay folks that gay people are, apparently, inherently narcissistic—it’s that whole “attraction to same” issue.  Various academics have played into this view.  In a book by a Dr. Sam Vaknin called Malignant Self Love: Narcissism Revisited (cited by 99 on Google), one such academic states, “There are grounds to believe that many homosexuals are repressed or outright pathological narcissists … The homosexual makes love to himself and loves himself in the form of a same-gender object.”  I’ve also heard this from fundamentalists, and there is a lot of “sacred union of opposites” talk out there as well (which doesn’t appear tied solely to one religious perspective).  Not to mention the old chestnut, “Opposites attract” that is so pervasive in popular culture. 

I get that “variety is the spice of life,” and that there is arguably something clinical about someone who pursues a relationship with someone who they perceive as identical to themselves.  It’d be a bit superfluous really, and I agree, unhealthy.  Trying to mold someone into a mirror of oneself is foolish and damaging.  It is good to value differences in others as well as commonalities.  That said, the gay narcissism charge makes no sense because every person is unique.  Variety is the spice of life … and it’s everywhere.

You Can't Put People in Boxes

Are we really so simplistic that we can categorize our identities according to 1s and 0s?  Even if you are cisgender, and even if you are attracted to only one sex or gender, there is nothing binary about your relationship.  Your partner isn’t a 1 or a 0 that matches or opposes your 1 or 0.  That would be a form of objectification.  On the contrary, your partner is a unique human being, different from every other human being who has ever lived.  You can’t quantify that.  You can’t put that neatly into a bin.  You can’t call a person your “same” or “opposite.”  That implies that you both fit neatly into finite categories, when really, you occupy your own unique space in a spectrum of infinite, wondrous diversity.  No one will ever completely fit where you do for the rest of space and time.

This is why this whole union of opposites obsession makes no sense to me.  A man is not in any truly meaningful sense the opposite of a woman.  Both are human.  Both have bodies and minds and souls.  If a man and a woman are building a relationship, their minds and souls hopefully actually do have an abundance similarities, or they are going to have a damn hard time creating a life together.  And … if you strip away all the cultural conditioning that feeds into gender concepts, men and women are a lot more alike than the culture would have us believe.  

Of course, they are not the same, however alike they are. On that exact token, a man and another man are not the same.  A woman and another woman are not the same.  Homosexual people are attracted to the same sex, but that does not make their partner a doppelganger, for fuck’s sake.  Hypothetical Man A and Woman A may be more the same on an essential level than Man A and Man B, or Woman A and Woman B.  And even if you brought together the two most similar people in the world (same sex or otherwise), you would see differences between them, created by their unique experiences and choices.  They could feasibly share meaningful interactions, and celebrate both their similarities and their differences in a loving and non-narcissistic relationship together.

In reality, unless you are a total narcissist and you truly are only attracted to the face you see in the mirror every day and the voice in your own head, none of us are really attracted to “same.”  Everyone is other.  Oversimplifying human relationships does nothing but make it easy to discriminate against minorities, while also encouraging members of the majority group to base their relationships on shallow binary concepts that reveal nothing of the true depth of both partners involved.

What makes a person unique goes way beyond skin-deep.  Someone isn’t different from you because of their sexual organs, or the same as you because of them.  Someone isn’t different than you or the same because of their gender identity either.  Inside these bundles of skin and organs and cognitive concepts, we’ve got hopes and dreams, fears, loves, principles, values, choices, imagination, experiences, and a whole abundance of other good stuff that goes way beyond sex or gender.  

Whether you’re attracted to men, women, both, neither, other sexes or genders, whatever—you look for people who can share both similarities and differences with you in ways that can enrich your life and theirs.  There’s nothing narcissistic about that.  

What is Demisexual?

Demisexual.  It’s pretty great to know there’s a word out there that roughly describes a particular aspect of how I experience relationships, an aspect that brings regular confusion and misunderstanding to my life.  The only thing is, whenever I tell someone I’m demisexual (specifically demi-pansexual), they still don’t know what it means, so I end up having to explain anyway. 

I’d like to take this entry to explain what demisexuality is, in broad terms, and what it means to me.

Demisexuality Defined

I’ll borrow the definition from AVENwiki:

A demisexual is a person who does not experience sexual attraction unless they form a strong emotional connection with someone.

As the entry goes on to explain, demisexuals are not generally attracted to anyone of any sex or gender, but if a deep connection is experienced emotionally (which may be romantic or platonic), sexual attraction may form toward that specific person or persons.  This sometimes is considered to fall on the asexual spectrum because the rest of the time, toward the rest of the world, a demisexual’s experience may be largely asexual.

The entry also points out that this is an innate orientation, not simply a choice to abstain.  This isn’t an “I’m saving myself for the right person” thing. 

There’s no internal conflict, no urge to act on any fleeting attraction when I meet someone new.  That said, if it was a choice, I’d still choose it, because it makes sense to me and tends to prevent me from wasting my time or my gifts, and I am a pragmatic person.  You could say my body and mind are in harmony when it comes to selectivity.

Primary vs. Secondary Attraction

On the AVEN page, two more terms are defined, primary attraction and secondary attraction.

• Primary attraction:  Attraction based on external qualities such as appearance or personality.
• Secondary attraction:  Attraction based on internal qualities revealed through relating and personal knowledge of another person.

Sometimes demisexuals are defined as experiencing secondary attraction only, and not primary attraction.

What follows is my personal perspective and how demisexuality relates to my own experiences.  Remember, mileage does vary; you may be demisexual and have a totally different experience or point of view.  There is a LOT of variation within the demisexual spectrum.

What Demisexuality Is Like For Me

For me, demisexuality relates to fantasies vs. urges.

I may find a person attractive that I don’t know.  I may easily be able to picture myself with that person, as a fantasy.  I can watch a film and find a certain actor or actress hot.  I can see an attractive person walking down the street and be impressed.  I may even experience sexual fantasies about an acquaintance or a friend (note that the above is not the case for many demisexual people).

But there is no urge.  I feel absolutely no desire to act on the attraction, and taken as an actual possible reality, it may even repulse me.  In that sense, I find persons I do not know well physically attractive sometimes, but they do not actively attract me. Often this also applies to people I do know well.  But it is universal with those I do not.

Not only that, but physically I find it very hard to get comfortable around anyone.  Even handshakes make my skin crawl.  Hugs from strangers make me feel violated.  This is not necessarily typical of demisexual people or asexual people.  But it often takes me a long time just to feel comfortable being physically next to someone at a restaurant or in a car—much less to hug them, give them a peck on the cheek, or even brush my arm against theirs.  And sex, or any other close physical activity?  That is way down the line as far as comfort goes. 

In that sense, I am not just demisexual, but also demiphysical (to coin a much-needed term).  There are occasional exceptions, but they are very rare.  There are close physical activities that appeal to me other than sex.  BDSM falls into this category.  So does dancing (and yes, I could be interested in either of those without sex).  I wouldn’t be comfortable doing either without a strong bond in place first outside the context of a class or workshop.

What Do I Find Attractive?

For me—and this list is just for me—here is what attracts me to a person from top to bottom, with the factors listed on top being the most essential.  Those at the bottom are way down my priority list.  This is a list for not only sexual attraction, but attraction in general.  This is what will create chemistry between me and somebody else.  It’s what might eventually get me comfortable enough to hang out regularly with someone, maybe give them a hug, or maybe (unlikely) have a sexual interest that goes beyond the realms of fantasy.

1. Values.  A shared worldview at least on some level that allows for cohesive friendship or partnership.  Mutual respect for those values or experiences that do not mesh.
2. Character.  Traits like loyalty, dedication, investment, reliability, honesty.
3. Willpower. 
4. Charisma/self-confidence and self-respect.
5. A physical and psychological sense of comfort, safety and ease (chemistry).
6. Interests and passions (shared or otherwise).
7. Personality.
8. Physical attractiveness.

As you can see, most of these things cannot be established on sight, or even on a passing acquaintance.  Values, character, willpower, self-respect, as well as many interests and passions may only be discovered with time and shared experience.  To some extent, chemistry is also something that is dependent on time and experience.  Even personality requires getting to know someone a bit.  As you can see, looks are way down at the bottom.  And my perception of looks is regularly influenced by all the bullet points above.

And some traits, like sex and gender and age, do not even make my list.  Our bodies are simply the vessels we are assigned at birth.  They are coincidental.  How could I assign significance to that?  How could I find it compellingly attractive, especially when the person in that vessel may be repulsive?  And how could what's between a person's legs determine whether I find the person compelling or not?  Those things have absolutely zero to do with any of the items that do make my list.  A person is not the body they were assigned.  A person is the sum of their choices.

Interestingly enough, I’m not sure any of the above qualify as “emotional” either, which may set me apart from the demisexual definition I brought over from AVEN.  As my best friend said to me at one point, “I personally think I'm more interested than I am empathic. I personally think it's the preferred option if you had to choose one. Empathy you have no control over. It's what I would consider messy emotions.  Interest however is a choice and indicates investment.” 

That’s what I look for in a relationship of any kind, and ultimately it’s what I also have the potential to find truly, compellingly attractive.  There needs to be genuine shared interest, a genuine choice between the partners involved to invest themselves in one another.

These things stand the test of time.  That initial burst of hormones and chemicals (emotion) that many people feel upon meeting someone new is something I sometimes feel, but my mind, body, and soul register it as unimportant, fleeting, and ultimately dull. I'm not interested in a chemical surge.  I'm interested in abiding choices I can respect, and persons who can share in them with me.

Misunderstandings Abide

Sadly, because of this, I have had many misunderstandings and miscommunications throughout my life.  Here are some common ones:

·         I may develop a physical interest in someone long after they have given up any interest in me, having assumed my indifference, or simply lost patience.  They may even misread my orientation as indecisiveness, cowardice, or malice.

·         Regularly I may set out to befriend someone, without any plans one way or another about getting physical, because I don’t know them well enough to gauge my attraction.  But I may forget that they do have plans.  This can result in all manner of unpleasantness.  A few too many of these episodes and I develop paranoia, which drives me to pursue relationships with people I know will not initially try to jump in my pants.  Of course, this results in me befriending people who will rarely return any physical interest I may later develop for them.

·         I may develop a physical interest in someone who proves viable to me by meeting my tests, only to realize later that they do not experience attraction based on those tests at all.

·         Because of how I connect to others, I may value my friendships, including the platonic ones, more deeply than they are valued by others, who may ultimately set them aside for sexual or romantic relationships.  This never fails to catch me off guard.  Sometimes others also run for the hills when they realize I am committed to them on a more intimate level than they expect from a platonic friend.  You’ll notice the word “romance” is largely not even discussed in this blog post.  You might think a demisexual person is also likely to be demiromantic, but I’m not entirely sure what romance is.  That will probably be my next blog post.

·         Surprisingly, I find I can’t gauge attraction very well long-distance.  This is because it’s hard to gauge numbers 4 and 5 in my list above without knowing someone face to face.  8 may not be a deal-breaker, but 4 and 5 can be.

·         I have a hard time relating to a lot of movies, books, etc.  There are very few demisexual-oriented stories out there. 

Because of all this, oddly enough, I’ve never gone on a date—a pretty standard human life experience.  It was that realization which prompted this entry.  I literally wouldn’t know what to do on a date.  I can’t build a relationship around a shared goal of “maybe we’ll have sex eventually.”  I understand “testing the waters” for a relationship, but to me, the unique connection should naturally and organically establish the shape of that relationship over time.  The shape it takes is the shape it takes.  I don’t have intentions beyond that when I meet somebody new.  

At the same time, nothing is worse than attempting to embark on a relationship where sexual overtones may be present, but are concealed by the other party hoping that they’ll escape the “friend zone” eventually.  Much better is honesty and up-front communication, so everyone can be clear on any intentions which do exist.  That way if there is a viable relationship, even with conflicting interests, the common interests can be found.  And if not, the relationship can be discarded, saving time and heartache.  If I develop a physical interest in someone later down the line, I tell them.  But the underlying (platonic) relationship is still the core, and because of that mutual respect, they can trust my interest will only convert to intentions if they share them.

I will be physically attracted physically to very, very few people throughout my life.  Those I do feel any urge with will already have demonstrated respect, honesty, loyalty, strength of will, and true connection on a deep and abiding level. 

And the rest, those I still won’t feel a physical urge with, even if they are incredibly close to me?  They will remain every bit as close to me and be every bit as important, because real shared interest and love are the core of my life, and there are many forms of chemistry, not just physical, but intellectual, emotional, and spiritual as well.

For me, some kind of initial “spark” intellectually or physically may make me interested in getting to know a person.  But that’s just guesswork.  The relationship is not built on that guesswork, and I do not experience guesswork as true attraction.  The relationship is built on shared experience, respect, trust, and contribution.  Only then can real, compelling attraction exist, physical or otherwise.

Submissive Does Not Equal Weak … Or Inferior

So, my new blogging pal over at The Other Side’s Thoughts and I have decided it would be cool if we did some entries together on the same, or related prompts.  This week, we decided I would write on the topic “submissive does not equal weak,” and he would write on the topic “dominant does not equal strong.”  Head here to read his entry.

There’s a common misconception I hear pretty often in pop culture or from people who are curious about BDSM (and sometimes those who find it repugnant) and that’s that people who identify as submissives are weak, and that it’s somehow “better” to be a dominant.

You can see this in conjunction with another common fallacy, which is that men are naturally dominant and women are naturally submissive.  I have never seen stats on this, but the dominants and submissives I have run across have seemed pretty evenly divided between various sexes and genders. 

We do live in a society that still has strong patriarchal threads running through it, which is why I believe these are two related misapprehensions.  In such a society, women are regarded as inferior.  The culture projects an image of weakness and passivity on women and encourages these behaviors.  And since there is a misconception that submissives are weak and passive—and inferior—naturally the patriarchal society also assumes (and projects) that women are naturally submissive in conversations about BDSM as well, and that men are naturally dominant.

When we talk about “dominant” and “submissive” in the BDSM world though, we are not talking about systems of oppression and weakness.  On the contrary, we are talking about trust, respect, and personal liberation. 

What Is a Submissive?

There are as many definitions here as there are individuals.  There is no “one” meaning of the word or one “true way” to be a submissive.  In fact, there are a lot of loose categories floating around in this general sphere, each with a myriad definitions as well.

• Submissive
• Slave
• Bottom
• Pet
• Etc.

Arguably, none of these terms is particularly descriptive, nor are there enough to fit every mode of being (including mine).  Each could be argued to be a misnomer in one or more ways.  I’m not writing this to debate the finer points of obedience vs. submission.  The “weak” or “inferior” stereotype is applied to all these categories, and anyone in this general area of life.

What Does the Word Submissive Mean?

I took the word “submissive” and looked it up in a thesaurus. 

                 

Here are some synonyms I find:

Weak, passive, meek, docile, ingratiating, pliant …

Ouch.  And I’m trying to argue that submissives—and others operating in similar orbits—are not these things?

The definitions and synonyms for “subservient” are just as bad.  I also looked up “subordinate,” thinking that sounded neutral and connotation-free … but even that word lists the definition “of less or secondary importance.” 

In a very broad sense, I find it bizarre that we tend to call those lower on the chain of command “inferiors” and those above them “superiors.”  That we see those lower on that chain as “less important.”  This is true in the office, in the military … How incredibly senseless is that?  Then again, we live in a world where a lot of people are truly weak, and give their service to employers and commanders who have not earned it—and sometimes even to unworthy families, partners, lifestyles and priorities.  That is inferior behavior.  Equally so is the behavior of any person who takes advantage of it and demands or accepts unearned service.

But where service is earned - in a personal relationship, in the military, in the workforce, whatever - nobody is inferior.  Every person is fulfilling an essential, valued role.

Submissives Tend to Be Strong People

Getting back to the specific world of kink, let’s talk about why submissives, slaves, bottoms, pets and their ilk tend to be strong people, whether they are male or female or other-gendered. 

Are there weak people who tend to be submissives?  Of course.  There are weak people who crop up in every walk of life.  But the reality is, it takes great courage to live any “alternative” lifestyle, or even to embrace your own nature in a world that tells you every day that it is not OK to be yourself!

It also takes courage and strength to overcome the stereotypes that submissives and masochists are weak and be yourself in spite of those misleading images. 

Let’s answer some of the common charges:

• “Submissives are weak, because they need someone else to tell them what they want.”

Actually, most submissives are very in touch with what they want.  They have gone through the challenge of struggling for self-awareness, and know what they are.  They are confident, forthright, and with each step they take, they embrace the next challenge along the path to expressing their identity.      

• “Submissives are weak, because they need someone else to make decisions for them.”

Actually, someone who is submissive in one area of life may be quite dominant in another, and used to making hard decisions.  They may simply want a break from that ongoing pressure.  And submission itself is a decision, a choice to trust someone else.  And that requires all kinds of courage, and the strength to follow through.

• “Submissives are weak, because they bend to someone else’s will.”

Somebody who imposes over someone else in a way that truly defies consent is an abuser, not a real dominant, and not a strong or willful person.  Somebody who bends to oppression isn’t a submissive, but rather someone who lacks self-respect or courage. 

Submissives do not cower under abusers; they align their own will with the will of a dominant they respect and trust.  It takes strength of character to recognize someone who deserves service and to render it.  And what of the submissive who doesn’t even have a partner?  That person has the strength to withhold service from all who do not deserve it.  A submissive without a dominant (or something else to serve) serves his or her integrity.  A submissive with a dominant continues serving that integrity through the relationship.

• “Submissives are weak, because they are easily pliable.”

… Try telling someone else’s submissive what to do and watch what happens.  Many submissive people will doggedly refuse orders from anyone but their chosen dominant(s), and would consider it an affront to their relationships or their integrity to do so.  Submission is a gift.  With very serious submissives, it is earned, not freely given.

The Bottom Line …

… Is that submissives are not weak, passive, bendable people.  There is nothing about being a submissive that demands weakness, and actually, like any alternative lifestyle in a culture that is pretty closed off, it practically demands strength.  But it’s what you bring to the table and what you do with it that counts.  As my friend Mike says in his entry on being a truly strong dominant, “When it comes down to it there are many types of strength, and every one of them is either part of you before you gain a submissive/slave... Or not.”

Whatever sex or gender you are, and however you choose to express your nature, all that matters is that you bring out the best in yourself.  If you fall somewhere on the submissive spectrum, be the best submissive you can be.  If you fall somewhere on the dominant spectrum, be the best dominant you can be. 

As long as you choose to be yourself and uphold your integrity, you aren’t weak, unimportant, or inferior in any way … You are one thing, and that’s magnificent.

The Other Side's Thoughts

After sharing my recent post over on FetLife, I received some very encouraging comments - I knew I couldn't be alone!  And best of all, a couple new acquaintances.  One of them, Mike Miner, has a great blog of his own going on at The Other Side's Thoughts.

If you enjoy my writing, you will definitely enjoy his.  We have expressed some similar thoughts, and I definitely hope to have him guest blog here at some point in the future.

Persephone

"You Asexual Deviant, You!"

I always hesitate to tell people I am a sadomasochist and a switch.  If you're not up on BDSM lingo, that's someone who can be dominant or submissive.

Why?  It's mostly that I know the moment the words are out of my mouth, they will be misunderstood.  Immediately, listeners' minds will fill with preconceptions based on familiar pop culture references (or even, sometimes, their own experiences).  Most of these preconceptions aren't going to fit me personally.  Others will be totally off base (and genuinely alarming).  Suddenly, the person I am talking to knows less about me than they did before, not more, and I am faced with the daunting task of trying to make them understand.

For a long time, I dissociated myself altogether with the label BDSM for just that reason.  But mostly because of this:

BDSM for me is not about sex.

Can it go nicely with sex?  Sure, lots of things can go nicely with sex, including typical vanilla choices like candlelit dinners, perfume, and dancing.  That doesn't mean dancing, perfume, and dinnertime are exclusively sexual, does it?  Context is everything.  I'm not even asexua (I'm demisexual)l, but my BDSM related thoughts, feelings and urges rarely involve sex.

Asexual Kinksters: Yes, We Do Exist

Kink: (n) A quirk of character or behavior.

That result comes up if you type "Define: kink" into Google.  So far, so good.  BDSM is a kink.

"Define: BDSM" pulls up nothing on Google.  Turn to Wikipedia, and you'll see the word "erotic" in the first sentence on the topic.

See how quickly I hit a snag?  I guess I could try to make up a whole new phrase for my particular kink that happens to be sex-optional, but that seems a bit pointless.

A group called "Asexual & Kinky" has 887 members on Fetlife.  That's a lot of asexual people (and people who simply like BDSM without sex) who talked themselves into joining a social network for kinky people in the hopes of maybe meeting others or keeping up with their local communities.  You can bet there are far MORE people who can relate, but hesitate to raise the subject (or feel too overwhelmed by the pornographic advertising to join the site and turn on their ad blocker).

Remember those Venn Diagram graphic thingies from elementary school?  To explain this mindblowing concept of asexual kink, I've come up with a few Venn Diagrams with pretty red and blue circles.

An elementary school depiction of diversity.

I could do a ton more of these.  Just as not everybody has a BDSM circle (or another kink circle), not everybody has a circle for sex!  For some people the sex circle is larger or smaller.  For some the kink circle is larger or smaller.  The kink circle and sex circle might both be present but not overlap at all.  Some people have a kink circle and no sex circle.  Circles can grow and shrink and appear and disappear or turn into squares or hypercubes or whatever throughout a person's life.

I was talking with a friend recently about cross-dressing, who explained to me that it is frustrating to be faced with other peoples' assumptions.  Some people cross-dress entirely to spice up sex.  For other people, cross-dressing may have absolutely no sexual purpose.  For others still, cross-dressing may be sexual, but also encompass a broader part of gender identity.

It's difficult trying to integrate something "alternative" into your life, knowing that when others look at you, they don't see why it's important to you.  Why?  Because you're judged twice.  First assumptions are made about your motives, and then comes the inevitable judgment on those motives.  It's very stressful.

"What's Going On Here?  You Make No Sense."

Going back to my frustrating Venn Diagram ...

I understand where this reaction comes from.  It comes from people who because of the culture ... or because of their own experiences/not having gotten around ... or Wikipedia ... or whatever reason, have a mental image in their heads that they project on all kinky people.  They may have only ever seen that second Venn Diagram, or the third, or the fourth.  They may never have encountered someone whose circles fall outside their own direct experience.  So they assume that they don't exist.

And no, this doesn't just come from non-kinky folks.  I've encountered this from kinky persons too.

Here's Where I'm Coming From

I'd like to break down the abbreviation

BDSM

Bondage - Domination - Sadism - Masochism

None of those letters stand for "Sex."

• I can tie you up without having sex with you.
• I can order you about without having sex with you.
• I can whip you without having sex with you.
• You can return the favor without me having sex with you.
• 
  

Just to add a couple points:

• The majority of professional dominants do not have sex with their clients.
• Lots of people go to BDSM clubs and parties to get their kink on and not necessarily to have sex.
• Lots of kinksters have large areas outside their overlaps (see Diagram 3)--even if the main area is still the overlap.

This is why I have stopped dissociating myself from the label.  Taken very literally (and not clinically, of course), it accurately describes the quirks in my character - even if the likely snap judgments don't.  Plus, at least this puts me in a more likely position to encounter other people who might understand me or even be compatible.  This is a core part of me, and always has been, and isn't going anywhere.  Even at times I had zero interest in sex, I was still interested in BDSM.  The only times I wasn't were the times I convinced myself Nobody Would Ever Understand and feigned indifference or contempt.  I can't shut myself back in the Nobody-Gets-This box of silence.

To me, sex and BDSM, like conversation or shared hobbies, are just ways to relate to someone.

For me, the "relating" is the most important aspect of any relationship.  If sex fits the relationship, and kink doesn't, I don't want kink in the relationship.  If kink fits the relationship, and sex doesn't, I don't want the sex.  If they both fit, well, two fun things can be fun together, right?  And if neither fit, I don't want either with that person.  We can enjoy something else exciting, like cake or conversation.  

What Do I Get Out of BDSM That Isn't Sex?

So you are probably wondering, "What's all that blue space all about in your Venn Diagram?  What's going on over there if not sex?  What is the appeal/motivation?"

Here are some of my answers:

• Trust.  It's the hardest thing in the world to come by, and when you find it, it's infinitely precious.  Being able to put your trust into someone so wholeheartedly, or be trusted completely, is a wonderful gift.

• Catharsis.  Feeling trapped or hurt is an unavoidable part of life.  Enacting it out as a kind of drama allows it to become something safe and controlled and meaningful--instead of scary, meaningless, and destructive. Nothing can stop bad things from happening to you, but at least a scene provides a kind of temporary safe harbor to find some emotional release.

• Safety/Letting go.  As someone who has a pretty iron grip on life most of the time and feels terrified of being out of control, a break from feeling the need to be in control has undeniable appeal.  Being able to provide someone else a break from all of their worries, equally so.  Many clients who see pro dommes can probably relate to this--especially those who happen to be business execs.

• Art.  Shibari is an aesthetic art as well as a functional one, and many rope bondage enthusiasts are drawn to it in part or in full for artistic reasons.  For that matter, being a good dominant or submissive is an art form.  Being able to walk that fine line on the edge of someone's limits entails 1-educating yourself on what you are doing for safety reasons (there's a reason there are classes for this stuff, and also a reason that a lot of BDSM folks are nerds; you kind of have to be a nerd, at least about BDSM, to do it properly), and 2-learning everything you can about the person you're with.  I like that BDSM requires intense effort, interest, and ongoing consideration in a relationship. 

• Aligning my will with somebody else's.  This is, I suppose, the sort of benefit other people derive from teamwork or from being a member of the armed forces, minus the whole saving-the-world aspect that sometimes goes with the latter.

• Order in a chaotic universe.  Outside, everything may be falling apart, but between two (or more) people with an understanding, there is a calm, controlled environment where things are going to be OK.  Life doesn't usually give a damn if your limits are pushed, violated, or broken, and it can be completely indifferent to what you're experiencing.  BDSM allows two people to create a miniature universe between themselves that is anything but indifferent, and where limits are respected.  Our limits define us in many ways, like outlines in a drawing.  Without them, everything is just empty space.  Maybe this is one reason that for many people, BDSM is a journey of self-discovery.

• Sensation.  I like being in a physical body.  Actually, I think it's fantastic, and I want to make the most of it.  Enough unpleasant things happen to it.  Why would I not want something I can enjoy? There are a lot of sensations that are enjoyable that do not have to entail sexual arousal for me to enjoy them.  I love chocolate and perfume too--but I'm not eating ice cream or sniffing my wrist to get my freak on--even though I could and many people do.  I just love my senses.    

It's an unnerving thing having people look at you like you're a liar or simply insane when you say you're a sadomasochist, but that it's not a sex thing.  It's as though they feel that as long as you're talking about sex, you're safe somehow ... normal, familiar.  They may not be able to relate to your BDSM needs or desires, but they can relate to sex.  Safe is safe.  Sex is familiar.  If you're interested in BDSM for no other reason than Bondage - Domination - Sadism - Masochism ... you must be some sort of a pervert with unusual needs, unsafe needs.  

But that's not true.  Hopefully the list above clears that up a bit, and maybe also clarifies to people who are completely outside the BDSM universe what the broader emotional and philosophical appeals can include.  Every person's experiences and needs are unique though.  And it doesn't matter how your circles are arranged in that little Venn Diagram in your brain, or how many or few you have--as long as you are true to yourself.

For me, BDSM is largely about how I relate to life.  It's the search for a little calm and control and trust and release in an uncertain universe.

2015 Update:  This blog has been viewed more than 800 times.  I've received dozens of thank-yous and re-shares and compliments.  If you're reading this, and you've felt like you're alone, now you know that you're not.  There are a *lot* of people out there who can relate to this in one way or another.  This has been incredibly affirming for me, and I hope it is for you too.