One of my favorite kinky bloggers, Stabbity, has a post describing the perfect kinky scene. While I generally like the suggested improvements, it made me realize something. I really don’t care what “the scene” looks like, I don’t want to be part of it.
What would be perfect for me would be a world where no one cares about FemDom/malesub dynamics or specifics. It would be a world where my relationship with Mistress Delila would be as uninteresting and uninspiring as any random “traditional” form of relationship. At very least, it would be common and accepted enough that no one thought we should try to forge friendships around things that we have no intention of ever sharing with someone else.
I’m not anti-social, but I have relatively low social needs. I’m generally happy spending time with my immediate family and a very small circle of friends (I’m talking fewer than ten people, and maybe actually half that number or less).* Even when I do belong to larger social groups, I tend to separate out of them. For example, I belong to a church – but it is a small church, and if the attendance grew much; then I’d be uncomfortable (and I avoid the services where attendance is overflowing). Even when a normal attendance of two dozen (or fewer) are there, I only interact with maybe half a dozen at any level, and only two or three with any level of closeness.
This is perfectly normal for me and trying to interact with more people than that is immensely exhausting for me and not very satisfying. It also explains why the whole “go to a munch” thing bothers me so deeply. It assumes things that I know to be completely false.
First, it assumes that the only place I can possibly meet someone who shares my particular kink is to schlep into some amorphous group of strangers whose membership includes anyone and everyone who identifies in some way as “kinky.” I serve as a glaring reminder that it is possible to be involved in a kinky relationship without ever going to a kinky event. Consider this myth busted because attendance at kinky events is simply not necessary. Beyond that, the membership of every single kinky group out there would have to be infinite to ensure that every kinky person could find someone compatible. It just isn’t true.
Second, it assumes that if you put two people with similar interests in close proximity that they will: 1) recognize each other; 2) feel comfortable discussing said interests; and 3) hit it off enough to make the whole thing worthwhile. In the absence of some sort of mystical vibe that allows people to magically identify each other, then the only way to identify another person’s interest is to talk to them. If there are ten people in the group and it takes three minutes to discover that any two are incompatible; then it would take twenty-seven minutes for a person to check in with all nine potential partners. This is, of course, assuming that everyone is perfectly willing to tell a stranger things like, “I enjoy having Icy-Hot rubbed on my genitalia while balancing on a strap-on dildo that is mounted on a yoga ball and inserted into my rectum while reciting classical Romanesque poetry as boiling hot coffee is dribbled over the nipple clamps that are driving a needle through my flesh.” Good luck with that.
Third, it assumes that there is no one out there like myself who simply doesn’t want to be involved in any group of people larger than half a dozen or so. At the very least, it assumes that people like myself are really fundamentally wrong about how we understand our selves and how we relate to the world. Or maybe we will be willing to pretend to be something and someone we are not in order to dupe a partner into entering a relationship with us under false pretenses – and that relationship will be rewarding and happy even though it was entered into under false pretenses and one partner may have vastly different social needs than the other and will not feel betrayed by the fact that they were misled.
Fourth, it assumes that if I do happen to meet someone who shares an interest in a particular kink, that I will like them. Here’s my reality: I don’t honestly like many people (for the record, I don’t dislike people – I’m just ambivalent towards most people…I’ll be friendly with them, but they aren’t my friends). Even people who share a lot of common ground in interests with me are often not people I’d like to spend time with.
As an example, I like to watch professional football on television – but I don’t like to watch college football at all. I don’t want to watch pro football with anyone who has a favorite team, because they tend to get upset when “their team” loses, and that’s just stupid to me. I also don’t like to hear people yell at the players, the refs, the announcers, or anyone else who is so far away they can only be viewed through an electronic device. I also don’t like to hear people talk about the game itself, other than to occasionally (maybe three times per game) remark on how exceptional a play was. (In other words, if you like to watch football; then I am sure I wouldn’t enjoy watching the game with you. Unless you like to turn the sound down, talk about literature, and eat some non-salty snacks…in which case, I’m only merely suspicious that I wouldn’t like to watch football with you.)
There are a few people I know of who are interested in F/m that I wouldn’t mind spending some time with – but that is because I find them to be interesting people without any regard to the F/m dynamics in their lives. In general, I interact with these people on Twitter and we usually talk about things like our health regiment and/or medical issues, recipes, our families, what we last read, and other such things. While I read their blogs (the ones that blog), and find their thoughts on F/m interesting (and sometimes worthy of comment – and, in fact, linked to one at the beginning of this piece), our collective friendliness isn’t about F/m. In some ways, it is the least interesting thing that we share and even though the “F/m umbrella” covers us all, there are very few similarities around which we could build actual friendships on that aspect of our lives…if any of us were actually looking to do that (which we aren’t, as far as I can tell).
In my perfect world, the scene exists for people who are interested in hanging out at clubs or restaurants or wherever and doing whatever it is they do there without anyone being violated or threatened or excluded for anything other than behavior. But in that world, I could wear a collar instead of a wedding band when I walk around town and never worry about some small minded individual saying something hurtful to the people I love because of it. I wouldn’t have to time the more painful sessions of love-making around visits to the doctor because I don’t want the office to suspect spousal abuse. I wouldn’t have to be pressured to be in a closet or to come out of it. I would be free to live an open and transparent life about those things I want to share and no one would give a damn about those things I don’t share.
Perfect isn’t going to happen, though. So I will settle for a world where my boys can grow up to be men who find their sexuality to be fulfilling and affirming. No one would ever challenge them and they would never feel any shame for whatever leads them into a lifelong loving relationship. At very least, I will settle for a world where that is the message they receive from their father, and when they run into problems, they will know that there is always someone they can turn to who will love them for exactly the persons they are, and who they are always becoming.
*This doesn’t include family reunion type events like holidays where a ton of people may show up. Those are fine for three or four times per year – you know, special occasions.