My Trans Identity

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I was born a female. I have XX chromosomes. I am in possession of a set of ovaries and a uterus. In addition to that, I live as a woman. People use she/her pronouns for me, and I wear makeup and women’s clothes.

Some might say that if I was born a woman and I live as a woman, I cannot be transgender. I wish that were true, because it sure would be easier for me!

The truth is: I’ve always been a boy. This is not something that is based on my sex organs or how I look to you today. It’s based on my brain.

This is why being transsexual is complicated.

Biological sex is already complicated. I have XX chromosomes, which made fetus-me develop female sex organs. However, that isn’t what makes someone a woman. There are women who don’t have female sex organs. Transgender women, for example, don’t possess a uterus or ovaries. They are still women. My mother had a complete hysterectomy of all her female organs including her ovaries. She’s still a woman. It’s not the uterus that makes the female. And more than that, intersex people can have both sex organs or neither, so sex was never even binary on a physical level to begin with.

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Meanwhile, gender (which is different than sex) is currently determined based on arbitrary stereotypes. People think that men must be aggressive and violent. They think women must be patient and nurturing. Those are obviously just constructs created to subjugate women. So, the idea of gender is pretty much fake. It’s all made up.

For me personally, the reason that I know that I am a guy is because I am attracted to women, and when I have sex with them, I experience extreme gender dysphoria. Somewhere deep in my soul, I feel like I belong in a male body, and like I should be able to have sex with women in the same way as a man. Not with a strap-on. But, with my own body parts.

Everyone has instincts. Couples used to be told before their wedding night that they shouldn’t worry because “sex is all instinct.” This rings true.

For me, my instincts are to peruse and have sex with women in the way that a biologically male human can. It’s weird to know on an intellectual level that something is impossible, but still feel the instinct pulling on your consciousness. I like to compare it to the Call of the Void. When a person stands on a ledge, they often feel an odd urge to jump which comes from somewhere deep inside of them. Their conscious mind tells them that such an instinct is crazy, and tries to push the feeling away.

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That is what it feels like to me when I have sex with a woman. It feels like something deep inside of me is male, and trying to process the experience with male instincts. A deeply ingrained voice tells me “Put your dick in her!” And I brush it away because I live in a female body and I can’t do that.

I also experience an odd sensation when people assign female stereotypes to me. It’s best described as offense on a cellular level. Somewhere deep inside of me I feel taken aback that someone would ask me for makeup advice or assume that I would know about tights. It’s like my body is offended that anything stereotypically female would be placed upon it, because such a thing wouldn’t fit.

Intellectually, I know that gender is a social construct and that there are no male or female things. Working on cars is for everyone. Cooking is for everyone. Makeup is for everyone. There’s no activity that is truly related to sex organs except for sex.

However, when someone places a female stereotype on me, the offense is really just about them not recognizing that I am not female. This is stupid, since I choose to live as female (for a variety of reasons- but mostly because science can’t give me a real penis so what would be the point of transitioning?) If you present as female, you shouldn’t be offended if people think you are female and use female pronouns to address you. That said, my conscious mind understands many things which my unconscious mind refuses to accept. My subconscious mind knows that my brain is male and it gets offended, even though my conscious mind knows that I live in a female body and have no right to be offended.

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It’s very confusing for me, so I can only imagine how hard it is for others.

The point is: Not all transgender people choose to transition. Some of us just live with dysphoria and feel uncomfortable about it, but don’t think that the alternative is better.

With all of that out of the way, I’d like to thank the people who just see me as I am even though I wear a women-skin. I have a few friends who just gave me an odd look upon meetings me and said: “Wait a second- you’re a guy.” And, they weren’t implying that I am too tall or that I have 5 o’clock shadow (because -again- I have XX chromosomes and it shows.) They just saw past my exterior and into my soul, and they realized that I was actually a boy on the inside. I’m so grateful that some people can do that.

You might ask: “If you are a guy, then why are you always going on and on about feminism?

It’s not a terribly fair question since men can be feminists too, but let’s address it in terms of me personally (everyone has a different reason for being a feminist, and all I can give you is mine.)

The reason is that -to some extent- form dictates behavior. That is to say; we don’t realize that a lot of what our brain is telling us is just based on our physical experience of living in a body. I live in a female body. It has impacted my life very severely in nearly every interaction I have ever had with other humans.

Living in a female body means I had to go through puberty as a female. I had to watch all my friends (I always had male friends growing up) turn on me. I went -in the span of a summer- from a friend to an object (because men objectify women.) I lost my social group and everything that mattered to me, and had to experience old men suddenly groping me in public and calling me “Sweetheart.” (By the way, as a man trapped in a women’s body, being molested by an old guy is so many layers of gross and confusing for a 12-year-old.)

Living in a female body also meant having to get a period. This is a terrifying responsibility that includes birth control, pregnancy scares, and being part of the half of the species that is expected to make all the new humans. It’s not okay. Seriously, it’s way too much responsibility and also it’s like a shoe that doesn’t fit. I always wanted to be a dad, so why was I constantly in danger of becoming a mom? There is no overstating how much the reproductive responsibility weighs on you.

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Being the XX chromosome holder also means living on a hormone roller-coaster. It means having to be tougher than those who don’t have ovaries. Non-ovary people claim that they are stoic, but they only think they are. They don’t know what it’s like to act totally normal while your insides are on fire and blood is running out of you. Nothing is more hardcore, and no one has ever had to be more stoic than a person on their period.

Being a “woman” (a word used here to denote having to bear the burden of reproduction because no other word exists for this concept) means having to be way more responsible than the non-ovary having people. It’s much harder, and it’s completely unfair.

That’s why I am a feminist.

It doesn’t matter that my mind is male. My body is female, and I know first-hand that being female is much harder, comes with tons of disadvantages and basically no advantages, and is just shitty as fuck. It’s awful. I don’t say that because of the dysphoria. I say that objectively after a fair comparison. Women have less rights, are treated worse, are expected to shoulder more burdens, and are told to shut the fuck up about it.

As a man with a vagina, I find this offensive.

It’s an insult to my brain to live in this body, but it’s more of an insult that this body is given a lower standing in the world than a male one would be. I’m offended by how society treats “women.”

This can mean things like lower wages and a lack of respect given (which transgender women experience.) It can also mean things like less access to healthcare and period discrimination (which is more of a cisgender women or pre-op trans man thing.)

Yes, it is confusing. There are not nearly enough words to describe all these ideas. I am furious when I want to complain about having periods and worrying about pregnancy and abortion rights, because the only words I’m allowed to say to describe that are: “I hate being a woman.” And obviously, those words are inaccurate. They are wrong for me because inside I am not a woman. They are also wrong for transgender men who take testosterone and live as men, but who haven’t had bottom surgery. They’re not women either, but they also have the period-and-pregnancy-problem. And, it’s discriminatory against XX women who have had a hysterectomy or women who are MTF trans, because they are also women but do not have the period-and-pregnancy-problem.

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And when I say, “I need a separate word for the period-and-pregnancy problem” (because “women” doesn’t work) people tell me I shouldn’t even be allowed to ask for a word for my experiences because it “excludes some women.” Which, like, of course it does. I’m not talking about being a women. That’s literally the point.

You can’t even talk about being transgender without offending basically everyone. Even other transgender people are offended when I call myself transgender since I live as the sex that I was born. You can’t ever make everyone happy on this topic, because someone will always find a way to twist something you said into an insult against someone else. And yet, no amount of offense can change the facts. I’m a guy. I live in a girl’s body. I even wear makeup. And although I was born a girl and I live as a girl, I’m still transgender because I experience gender dysphoria.

I hope you got something out of this explanation, because I think these are conversations we need to be having. I mean, at dinner parties no one can ever grasp me explaining that “I use female pronouns but I’m the husband,” while my other half says “I use male pronouns and I’m the wife.” It shouldn’t be that hard. Honestly. Just refer to me as she/her and treat me like the husband. Refer to him as he/him and treat him like the wife. Done. (It’s just a preference that makes us comfortable with you, after all.)

People really pretend that it’s much harder in practice than it is.

One final thing: It should be clear that all of this has nothing at all to do with our kink roles. I happen to be the Domme and also the husband, but I am not the Domme because I am the husband. He happens to be the submissive and the wife, but he’s not the submissive because he’s the wife. Kink roles are not related to gender at all, nor should they be.

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First Dates

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Even vanilla people hate first dates. Half the guys are creepers. Half the women are Republican. There’s not much chance for a good match.

When you add kink on top, it gets worse. You probably have specific things that you are hoping to find, such as someone who isn’t afraid of anal play or who won’t judge you for using gear ties instead of ropes. They probably also have specific desires as well, and those desires likely don’t line up with yours.

The more complicated you like your sex, the harder it is to find someone that you are compatible with. That’s why dating in the kink community is so much more difficult than dating in the vanilla world.

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Actually, I don’t even like to call the first meeting offline a “date” because I think that puts too much pressure on it. It’s always annoyed me when people refer to a first meeting as a “date,” as if trying to overlay some societal expectation onto my behavior. I’m just trying to figure out if you’re cool since you wrote to me on the internet. Let’s not call it a date unless we already know each other from somewhere and we already like each other.

“Dates” are for people who have a mutual attraction. One does not get that from text online. One gets that from being around someone in person. There’s no substitute.

Anyway, as an example of first date hell: I recently went out with a girl. She contacted me, and I figured it was worth a few hours of my time to meet her (even though I have been feeling like shit lately) because anytime a semi-normal person talks to you on Fetlife it feels like you ought to at least meet them. She picked the place, which was an IHOP by the airport. However, I endeavored to keep an open mind.

 

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As far as kink goes, we were a match. She’s a submissive of the sort I would want. She’d be willing to play with my Pet as well. She’s fine with swapping STD tests. She even likes D&D (which I feel shows an aptitude for Role Play.) In terms of just the potential for kinky sex, we were a match (which is so rare!)

And yet, somehow someone who seemed completely perfect on paper turned out to be a chore to be around in person. She kept throwing out completely false facts like:

We only know about 5% of what is in the ocean so there are animals we don’t know about in there that could just come eat you.” (That’s not true- we know about a lot more than 5% of the animals in the ocean, and you will not get eaten by a mysterious and unidentified animal if you snorkel.)

And:

Less than 1% of abortions are because the baby is deformed or because the mom is at risk.” (Again, not true at all. Most abortions are done because there is a risk to the mother or a problem with the baby. It’s not a choice people make lightly. But of course, Republicans have made sure that you can’t demonstrate this because in the 90’s they made it illegal to collect data. I rely on data from other countries because that’s all you can get anymore.)

 

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You might ask yourself: “Couldn’t you just gag her while you fuck her and not spend any time with her outside of sex?

Yes, I think some people could make that work. I wish I was one of them. But the thing is, I can’t get horny for someone who grosses me out as a person. She’s anti-choice! How could I get into that? How could anyone? My sex drive went in reverse listening to her talk about her kids (one of which she doesn’t like and all of which have different dads.) Then there was her Fox News talking points about how healthcare in Canada is “basically murder.” Everything she said was gross and untrue, and I kinda felt like I needed to take a shower after talking to her.

After the underwhelming meal, she followed me to my car (though I tried to say goodbye in front of the restaurant.) That’s when it got bad. She made fun of my Jeep.

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It’s a 2004 because I wanted something older. Newer cars are impossible to work on yourself since everything is computerized, and who wants to spend money on mechanics? Plus I don’t feel comfortable driving nice cars because then if a shopping cart rolls into them in the parking lot, I have to get upset about a scratch. Also, I park it at a lot of beaches and hiking trails in sketchy areas, and no one is going to break into an old Jeep because they assume there is nothing to steal (and they’re right- I don’t keep valuables in my car.)

She also made fun of it for being dirty, which is so dumb. Why wash a Jeep? It’s just going to go off road tomorrow and get dirty again. What? Am I supposed to care what people I don’t know might think if my car is dirty? Fuck them. Fuck anyone who wants to have an opinion about the mud on my tires or the dirt on my windows. As long as I have good visibility and it’s safe to drive, the mud stays.

It’s more than the specifics, though. It’s the general issue with people like that. They live their lives trying to impress others. That sounds exhausting, pointless, and like a complete waste of a life. You couldn’t pay me to care what a stranger thinks about me! And to be so shallow that you need to make yourself feel valuable by having nicer things than others? Yuck!

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My value comes from within. I’ve seen and done amazing things. I’ve traveled the world. I’ve meditated with monks in three different countries. I struggled with issues stemming from childhood abuse, battled my demons, and won. I did event planning and threw fetish proms and made amazing memories for myself and for others. I’m proud of who I am, what I have done, and how I see the world.

Could I drive a nice car if I wanted to? Yup. Could I wear brand name clothes if I wanted to? Yup. I could have amazing things and I could polish them daily in hopes that others would validate me by congratulating me on my shinny possessions. I could waste my entire life on vapid, stupid pursuits.

But, I won’t.

I’m going to do the bare minimum required to survive so that I have time for FUN. I want to climb every mountain, snorkel every reef, and have all the sex. I want to spend my time doing things I love, and spend my money on amazing experiences. For example: That girl spent about $400 a month on a car payment. I spent $400 during my entire week of backpacking around Chang Mai. There is no way I would rather have a fancy car for one month than those memories.

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This is why dating in the kink world is harder. It’s also why I hate calling it a “first date” when I meet a new person. There’s just too much going on.

Kink Concerns: Are we compatible in terms of BDSM? Will this person fit into my poly lifestyle in a way that all partners will be comfortable with? Are they attractive enough and interesting enough for me to want to play with them? Are they concerned enough with safety?

Vanilla Concerns: Can I stand to be around this person? Do they say things so heinous that I want to punch them? Are they a racist piece of shit or a Trump supporter? Are they a feminist or are they an idiot?

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I feel like I need to be compatible with people on a kink level and on a vanilla level in order to enjoy playing scenes with them. After all, if someone is shallow and vapid, then they need WAY more aftercare and time spent validating them because they are empty inside. I don’t want to spend all my time on that. And I just can’t get horny for someone who throws out fake statistics to defend draconian beliefs, either.

I’ve been very lucky to have found a lot of compatible people in my life. And when I like someone, I’ll keep them around forever. Example: I have a boy who I like as a human (he’s nice, we have similar values, and he’s into D&D.) The sex wasn’t always great, but there were some really hot moments that I still fantasize about. I’ll probably talk to him as long as he wants to talk to me. I’ll also harbor hopes that we can recreate some of those really good moments. Plus, I’ve grown to consider him a good friend.

I think that’s the best way to be kinky and poly. Find the people you are compatible with, and just keep them around for the rest of your life. It might not work for everyone, but it works for me. Anything to avoid dating, right?

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Stop Being Shitty Doms

I was speaking recently with someone who considers himself to be a “Dom.” I note that he considers himself a Dom, but I will also point out that I do not. I consider him to be abusive. I consider anyone who wants to get all the benefits and give nothing back to be abusive, and you should too.

The person in question does not care for his sub at all. He doesn’t tell her that she’s pretty, buy her gifts, or even ask her about her day. He just expects her to do things for him, and he doesn’t think he owes her anything in return.

That is not BDSM. That is abuse. If you are in a relationship like this you part of an abusive relationship.

Ladies (and men) who are submissive, I hope you will hear me on this one:

Your Dom owes you care and attention in return for your submission. You are owed respect for offering yourself to serve, you are owed aftercare when a scene in done, and you are owed orgasms. There are plenty of Doms out there, and it’s not hard to find one who will take good care of you. You don’t need to put up with someone who doesn’t treat you well.

And yes, I practice what I preach. I care for my Pet and always make sure that his needs are met. His happiness is -in part- my responsibility (since he has agreed to serve me.) So, of course I tell him that he is beautiful at least twice a day and cuddle him all the time. Of course I buy him presents and tell him how special he is and hold him after a scene. Of course I rub his back when he doesn’t feel good and make him food.

Anyone worth a shit will do this.

Please, let’s not perpetuate this culture of abuse. If you see someone being abusive, say something. I’ve heard enough guys brag about how they never do anything for their submissives and they don’t care about them at all. I’m sick of it. That’s why I told this wanna-be “Dom” that he can’t expect everything from his sub and give nothing in return. Sure, he got mad. So what? Fuck anyone who thinks it’s okay to be abusive and to hide their behavior under the guise of kink.

If you can’t care for a pet, then don’t adopt.

TNG Munches

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There’s been a lot of controversy around TNG munches, which are munches for people who are 18 to 35 and no one else. I hadn’t written about this topic (in spite being asked to) when I was under 35. It felt like I couldn’t really understand both sides of the issue, and all I knew was that it was nice to not have creepy old guys trying to grab my butt.

I’m over 35 now, and have been for a couple years. This means I’ve had some time (being excluded) to think about it. And you know what? I’m still okay with it.

The thing about society at large is that there’s entirely too many old white guys hitting on 18-year-olds because they are too weak to handle a woman their own age (or, a woman old enough to know her own mind.)

I was one of the girls who understood this weakness even when I was 18. I was never naive enough to think “I’m just more interesting than a girl their age.” I always knew it was predatory and creepy when guys in their 50’s and 60’s leaned in close and tried to touch me even though they were older than my dad.

I still think that is creepy now that I am almost 40. If that’s your kink then good for you, but I think it’s super uncomfortable and I have never wanted a man my father’s age or older to hit on me. Ever.

I sometimes feel like Russell Brand, who famously said: “When I was poor they told me that I couldn’t talk about income inequality because I was just jealous. Now that I am rich, they tell me I can’t talk about it because I have money. I’m starting to think that they just don’t want anyone to talk about income inequality.”

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When I was young I didn’t want to write about it because even offering my opinion at a munch, I was told to shut up because I didn’t know what it felt like to be excluded. I would argue that as a woman, I’ve always been excluded from hundreds of opportunities that were available to men, so I have always known what exclusion felt like. But I didn’t specifically know what age discrimination felt like, so people shouted me down.

Now that I’ve been over 35 for a couple years, I have had plenty of time to see TNG munches posted and know that I can’t go. I’ve had plenty of time to think about it. And, I’m still glad that they exist. I’m still glad that the young women of our community have somewhere safe to go where predatory old men can’t grab at them.

To be perfectly clear: Yes, I know that some old men have caught up with the times. There are some who are respectful and who are not pushy and rapey. But, that’s the exception rather than the rule in my experience.  And you really can’t tell me otherwise, because I was a very attractive young girl in the kink community from when I was 16 onward, so I have had decades of experience with creepy old guys hitting on me. I can count the old men on my fingers who have shown me the respect I deserved and given me the space that I wanted.

Now that some of my friend’s daughters have found their way into the kink community, they assure me that nothing has changed, and unwanted attention and touching is the rule, rather than the exception,

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Also to be clear: Yes, I know old men will say it’s generational. They will say that in their time, woman didn’t mind a pat on the bottom or a guy stealing a feel during a hug. However, that’s simply not true. Women always minded those things, but many never felt safe enough to say so until recently. It was actually never okay, and it’s not okay now.

By the way, I don’t think “It was okay in my day” is ever an acceptable excuse. You need to keep up with the times, or stay home and hide in shame. Going out and trying to behave in ways that have long since been changed (with good reason) isn’t cool, and it’s the reason that TNG munches were created in the first place.

I think the people who complain about TNG munches are what I always suspected when I was young: The worst sort of people. Look, just leave the damn kids alone. You dated young people when you were young. Let them enjoy dating young people while they are young.

And if your thing is going for people younger than your kids, at least have the class to find the ones who are into that by reading their profiles, and confine your efforts to those specific women.

One Last Thing: Older men assume that they can just be a “sugar daddy” and young women will date them even though they are grossed out. Once again, you have to look for that on a girl’s profile. I won’t be coerced into dating someone older than my father for any amount of money. I won’t do it for a free house, a car, and a million dollars. I never would have, even when I was 18 and starving to death. We’re allowed to have standards and we’re allowed to say no.

No one has to share your kink just because you want them to.

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I Don’t Owe You An Explanation

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Being kinky, we’re often part of a group that is looked down on or considered to be “freaks.” I am actually part of a few more protected classes than that. I’m queergender, bisexual, and female.

The hardest one of those is presenting as female, because I have faced a lot of discrimination over it. In particular, people in my higher math classes in college literally ignored me even when I knew they could hear me because they didn’t think a woman had a right to speak.

I may be queergender, but I live in a female body. That means the burden of birth control and the entire reproduction of the species is something I have to carry. Men grope and mock me all the time. I’ve had to fight very hard to be taken seriously in spaces where men just walked in and were treated well because they presented as men. It sucks being in a female body.

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In spite of all the discrimination I have faced in my life and that all women face, there will always be some asshole trying to shout us down and tell us that we have it easy because men like our tits.

I had a friend named (Insert Generic White Male Name Here.) This friend was a decent guy when I knew him in Korea, but unfortunately, he’s gotten mixed up in the MRA movement since then;- really toxic Jordan Peterson kind of stuff.

This manifested in him coming to my pages on social media and attacking me; though I never went to his pages on social media to attack him. It was violent and shitty, but I still tried to have a conversation with him because he used to be a friend. I sent him Christmas cards and shit. We used to be close. But anytime I would try to talk to him about something, he would do two things:

1. Refuse to educate himself and instead demand that I provide a long list of sources that HE approved of, as well as an in-depth explanation of those sources so he didn’t have to read them.

2. Take a bunch of deeply misunderstood principles from Philosophy and tell me that I had to follow them when I explained things to him exactly as he constructed, or nothing I said would matter.

This is abuse.

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I think it’s important to break down why this is abuse, and why it is unacceptable.

Now first off: As a woman, I don’t owe you sources or an explanation when I say things are not equal between the sexes. I’m relating a FACT, and it is up to you to educate yourself if you disagree, because statistics are on my side.

You can post on your own page about how men are the real victims all you want, and you can cry your sad little heart out. However, if you come to MY page and demand that I explain MY oppression, then you are automatically wrong.

You don’t get to make demands that someone teach you about the objective reality of the world in their own space.

Second, oppressed people already have to deal with being oppressed. That’s quite enough torture for us to put up with without you harassing us. And if you actually care, then you can go read the writings of oppressed people who talk about what it is like (women, transgender people, minorities, etc have all written books about it.) There are facts all over the library, and you can go find them. No one owes you an explanation. It is your responsibility to educate yourself.

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Third, no one has to conform to your format.

I said: “We used to be good friends, and it disappoints me that you would attack me like this. It hurts my feelings.”

His response? “Now you’re just trying to use emotional manipulation which is not a valid argument tactic so YOU’RE WRONG!!!!!!”

But, I wasn’t wrong.

In fact, I was totally on-point.

When someone you used to care about turns into a piece of shit, it does hurt. It hurts a lot. And saying that is valid.

The point is: I don’t have to talk to you in the way that you want to be talked to. Don’t be a fucking snowflake. You need to learn to handle your shit like a big boy and hear what people are saying. That’s what grown-ups do. You don’t scream like a little bitch: “You’re not saying things I want you to say, waaaaaa!”

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If you listen, you might learn something. If you cry and plug your ears, you won’t learn anything at all.

Those of us who are queergender, bisexual, and presenting female face all kinds of discrimination on a daily basis. We’re not too weak to hear the facts, because we get shit on every day by straight white cisgender men. You build up a thick skin when all your get all the time is discrimination and attacks. Then some white man comes along with skin so thin that a light breeze could tear it and demands that everyone stop what they are doing and spoon-feed him an explanation in exactly the way he wants.

Are you fucking kidding me? Are you?!?

I have always put in more effort than others. I’m the one who remembers birthdays and who sends Holiday cards. I’m the one who reaches out first, and the one who sends the first e-mail. I’m a nice person and I do my best to make people in my life feel valued.

But I draw the line at these incels who get into MRA bullshit and become the fragilest of fragile and expect to be coddled.

Look: We’re kinky. There’s not a lot of us and they are taking down our websites and trying to stop us from being able to engage with each other. We have a responsibility to each other and to our community to listen to each other and to educate ourselves. We have a responsibility to stick together.

So don’t be a piece of shit like (Insert Generic White Male Name Here.) Don’t turn on your fellow kinksters and become a whiny piece of shit too fragile to handle the fact that some people have more difficult experiences than you, and they don’t owe you an explanation.

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So… No Threesome Then?

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Six year ago my husband had to go for training in Missouri before we moved to Guam. I went to stay with my mom in Oregon for a year, and I dated a guy there who was kind of a mess, but nice. We’ll call him Kevin, since he just has a generic white guy name anyway and they’re all the same.

Anyway, Kevin had been married for 20 years and was in the process of getting over it. I thought he could use a little fun, so I took him along to the kink clubs of Portland and showed him a good time. It wasn’t thrilling or anything, but between him and the gorgeous young pet I kept while living there, I entertained myself.

When I left Portland, gorgeous young pet wandered off into drugs and hippy festivals in the woods, and I haven’t heard from him since (though I hope he’s okay.) However, Kevin stayed in touch. We met up several times over the years (since he lived near my mom) and things seemed fine other than him still being a bit of an Eeyore about everything.

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Now that I am living in Hawaii, all of a sudden everyone wants to “come visit me” (by which they mean they want a free place to stay in Hawaii.) Kevin was among those who asked to stay, and I agreed. He’d had a run of bad luck between his daughter’s suicide attempt, losing his job, and his older son having trouble in school due to being autistic. It was a lot to deal with and I thought some beach time would help.

However, Kevin had never spent any time around my husband. I just assume everyone who claims to be poly can handle that. I really wasn’t prepared for what a jerk he was about to be…

See, I knew Kevin had issues. He made the choice to stay in an unhappy marriage long enough to learn some bad behaviors. However, I don’t think I really understood that I was about to see all of them on display at once.

In every interaction he observed between my husband and I, he tried to find conflict. My husband and I do not fight, but Kevin tried to look for the hostility that he thinks is behind every word and gesture in a marriage, and it was exhausting.

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I would say some innocuous thing like:

Where are all the spoons?

This is code for:

Husband, I know there is a pile of tea cups on your desk with spoons in them. Bring them to me for spoons belong in the kitchen.”

But Kevin would immediately see hostility in my calm tone of voice and say:

Dude, she sounds pissed off. You better get her the spoons.”

It’s hard to show exactly how shitty it is to have someone gas-lighting your every conversation by trying to turn it into a fight when it’s not. And yes, I know that it’s not his fault because clearly he has a huge hangup about the idea of marriage. I get that. But, it’s no excuse to spend a week trying to see fights in every single thing a couple does.

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Then there was the mocking. My husband and I do try to keep affection to a minimum in front of company. However, we’re really happy and we really love each other, so sometimes we can’t help ourselves. And there was Kevin using a tone only a school-yard bully would use: “Yeah yeah I get it, you’re so fucking cute.”

Obviously I saw no reason to have a big breakup while he was here, since I had to drive him the airport and it would have been awkward. However, I breathed a sigh of relief when his cloud of misery and anger was safely dropped on the curb. Then, I sent a Dear John letter post hast.

It’s weird how you can know someone for six years and safely avoid their deep-deeded issues. And then all of a sudden, that shit can all jump out at you like a boogieman in the dark.

I’m so disappointed.

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Plus, one thing that sucks about being poly is that I never feel like I’m allowed to be sad about a breakup because I have this beautiful husband who brings me chocolates and loves me to pieces. And yet… six years is a long time to chat with someone, hang out with them, and exchange holiday gifts. It’s the end of A Thing.

I guess if the husband hadn’t been in training in Missouri the whole thing would have fallen apart six years ago when I realized how miserable and bitter Kevin was towards married people. However, things just happened to align in such a way that I didn’t find out until I’d already gotten attached, and that sucks.

Anyway, it’s okay to be sad when you break up with someone even if your life is still full of love and joy. Emotions are weird and complex, and we have the capacity to feel a lot of things at once.

One last thought: I am sick of the trope of the “crazy ex-girlfriend.”

Women tend to find someone new pretty easily, and it’s usually the men who end up brooding and getting weird. So I want to point out that I have a crazy ex-boyfriend who needs a lot of therapy, and it should be more acceptable to talk about how nuts men can get after a breakup. After all, a “crazy ex-girlfriend” refers to a girl who slashes your tires or tells your new girlfriend that you have Herpes. But ladies, we all know that a crazy ex-boyfriend can be dangerous. I live an ocean away from mine so it’ll be fine, but some women live in the same city, and many are murdered by their crazy ex-boyfriends.

May you all stay safe and happy, and may you avoid the ones with hidden issues.

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Being in a Slump

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So I have actually talked a lot about this subject before.

For example, I’ve written before about setting up a scene. And, I’ve written about enticing your Domme.  I think both of these posts kind of address what to do when you’re in a slump:

Set up a scene the way you want it, and entice your partner to join you.

Relationships (of all types) do take work. People get comfortable, they get bored, and they get exhausted with life sometimes. It’s normal to feel that way, and it doesn’t mean that anything is wrong with you.

That said, I was asked to address the specific aspect of kink as it relates to health (or lack thereof.)

This is actually really important because more than half of the Millennial generation suffers from some kind of chronic illness. There’s a lot of autoimmune diseases out there. It didn’t used to be so prevalent, but it is now thanks to our irresponsible policies concerning radiation (I won’t go into that because it’s not what this blog is about, but I put a link to a government study admitting that they poisoned us.)

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First, I want to point out two things that I think are really important:

1. Kink isn’t only about sex.

2. Relationships aren’t only about sex.

If you are too sick to set up a scene and entice your Domme, that’s fine. There’s is plenty of value in cuddling on the couch with your head in their lap while they pet you. There is value in bringing your Domme her heating pad when her back hurts. The act of serving your Domme and of being cared for by her is part of a healthy kink relationship, and it’s every bit as important as sex.

A lot of us feel pressured to live up to some ideal of what someone else is doing or what someone else has. But when a friend asked me to write about kink and chronic illness I was like “It’s not just you- that’s me too. We’re all sick.

My point is, you don’t need to impress some mythical person who has sex twice a day. You don’t even need to impress your healthy friend who has sex once a week (which honestly- do they really?)

Stay confident. Stay content. Your life is good enough even if all you can manage is once a month. You’re still kinky and your relationship is still valid. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone. You just have to find out what you can handle, and do that.

You are good enough.

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