You might know me.
I could be your daughter, sister, cousin, aunt, best friend, social acquaintance, co-worker, boss, or any other title someone you know could have.
Maybe you've known me for my entire life or yours.
Perhaps we've known each other for years, maybe our relationship is new.
Odds are good I've told you about my partner- I've waxed ecstatic over how wonderful he is or I've bitched about how he can never seem to turn his socks right side out before they go in the laundry basket.
You've probably seen photos of my small people and my pets, you may have met them, and have definitely heard multiple anecdotes about all of them- Good and hilariously bad.
My life and yours are intertwined in some way.
We're connected... Maybe at the heart, maybe at the hip, maybe by blood or maybe by something less binding- But that connection is there between us.
In some way we share our lives with each other and from the glimpses you get of mine, you think you know me.
Here's what you don't know: I'm kinky. I'm in a D/s relationship. I'm not the person you thought I was.
There, I've said it.
And I'm guessing that this is what you're thinking- That I'm either abused or an abuser. That I'm broken and I need to be fixed. That there's something wrong with the life I'm living, something wrong with my partner, and that the both of us need professional help.
I don't blame you for that, really, even though the idea of you having those thoughts about me is painful. I thought the same thing of myself for the longest time. "What's wrong with me that I like the things I do? Why do I want to submit to some guy? why do I like it when he slaps my bum? Why does rope, leather, and shiny-jingly bits of metal do more for me than flowers and chocolate?"
Just like you, I had this idea of what BDSM was, and it wasn't pretty. It was dark, and dangerous, and shameful, and I thought that because of the media's depictions of BDSM. The media, and it's portrayals of the things I found interesting were pretty much always negative... Broken people doing horrible (but sexy-to-me) things to other broken people.
What else was I supposed to think? It's not like there are healthy, happy, fulfilled kinksters wandering the streets who are easily accessible as role models. The happy, healthy, fulfilled people are keeping mum because they know what the general populace thinks of them and they know that there are some pretty horrible things that can happen to people who are outed. So what we're left with is the De Sades (AKA writers of fantasy wank fodder that holds no bearing on reality), the Christian Greys, the perps on Law & Order SVU, Criminal Minds, CSI, and Dateline reports to inform the public's opinion of what BDSM is.
Because of that opinion I fear your opinion of me changing into something negative. I fear that in a custody battle I could lose my children, that if outed at work I could be fired (especially if there's a morality clause), that I could lose my good name among people in my community. Those things happen to people like me. They have happened.
They keep happening.
Why?
Because the stereotype is much more powerful than my reality... Also understandable- Who wants to come out as kinky when you know the reception you'll get and the risks it involves?
Because other kinksters say "Your friends/family/ important people don't need to know how your relationship is structured and what you like to do in your bedroom."
I think you do need to know. Maybe not the specifics- I certainly don't want to hear about every single thing you might get up to behind closed doors, but I do think that you need to know that there is nothing shameful about my relationship, that what I'm doing is something that contributes positively to my life, and that allowing my partner to lead while I act as his support person is how I'm function best in a relationship (we can't all be CEOs).
I think you need to know that the kinky sexy times we have together is consensual, and not just consensual, but that I enthusiastically consent and am aware of the risks some types of play involve (I also know how to mitigate those risks).
I need you to know that it's not about violence, even though our play can look violent- He's never angry or intent on causing me harm. He's joyfully providing me with a sensation that I find satisfying (really, joyful. We laugh and smile a lot while playing). There's a huge difference between violence and abusive behavior, and rough play that makes me feel all gooshy inside. One I wouldn't stand for, the other I welcome as a part of our intimacy.
I need you to know that allowing him to lead in our relationship doesn't mean that I'm being subjugated against my will or that I cannot lead- I just like to follow where he leads... With some exceptions- He's not allowed to mess with my health care decisions, my kitchen, and he'd better keep his man hands off my clothing selections (he's color blind and fashion obtuse, a bad combination). Beyond that? He's proven time and again that he can make wise choices for us and our relationship which is why I trust him to lead and can follow him. If he couldn't lead? I wouldn't follow.
My relationship is not the stuff of bad erotica or cop shows. It's not anything like the drivel on the silver screen or your small screen. Those people are not the people I know and care for.
Those people are not the people you know or care for.
The people you know and care for who might be kinky? They're the same people they always were. Being kinky doesn't change that and it doesn't alter who they are. The smart, funny, competent adults you know? They're still that person... They just like something that's not the norm. They like their relationships a bit more like Ward and June's, they like their sex and play a bit spicier... No big deal, right?
So why is it a big deal when really- It's not?
Think about it.
Sincerely,
A kinky person you know.
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