Moving

Hello and goodbye. I've enjoyed the nearly two years I've spent here, even though I only stop by sporadically. I very much like some of the things I've written here and I intend to leave this blog intact, but I've decided to move somewhere new.

My life has been changing a great deal recently, mostly for the better, and I feel ready for a fresh start online to go along with those changes. While I will still talk about kink and feminism, the new blog will be more focused on gender and queer issues, because that is what is most relevant to my current life.

If you're interested, feel free to stop by some time and check out the new place.

On Letting Go of Privilege

As I discussed in my previous post, I have been increasingly dissatisfied with the disparity between my internal sense of gender and my outward presentation. The primary reason for this has simply been that in a lot of ways it is easier to present this way. I spent a very long time being very confused about my gender (in many ways I suspect I always will be) and during that time it seemed pointless to adjust my presentation.

I no longer feel this way. At some point in the past six months, being continually mistaken for something I am not stopped feeling like success. Now I can't ignore it. There's a constant crawling under my skin, a never-ending cry in the back of my brain.

I have spent over a decade desperately cultivating a semblance of femininity that I have never felt. Ever since my body started to change, becoming almost a caricature of what our culture sees as female, I have tried mold myself, my thoughts, looks and actions, to the way that my body is perceived in society. This effort has had mixed results. Passing as cisgender has become second nature to me in the years since puberty, and retracing the path to myself has not been and will not be easy.

However, now that I can see myself, and now that I've been seen by others, I can't go back. So instead I'm moving forward, and I would be lying if I didn't admit that I am terrified. If I had been honest with myself I would have done this years ago, but giving up my cis-privilege is a big deal, and it's scary.

I still seem "normal" right now. A little odd, definitely, past 25 and still a tomboy. Quirky, but certainly not threatening. That's probably going to change. People can get upset when they come across someone who they can't classify. I know, I've seen it. I know exactly what I'm giving up, and what I will be facing. But now, for so many reasons, it's finally worth the price to be free.

Gender Fucked

It's very strange being here. Everything is, for lack of a better work, normal in a way that I am not at all used to. I come from a unique place, I know that. It is easy to forget exactly how unique until I leave.

Where I come from, everything has been queered. Gender is highly variable, and is on display in a myriad of ways. That is my normal. I forget that this is not the case in other places.

And now I'm here, in the real world. There are no queers here. There are gay men and there are lesbians, but there are no queers. No butches, no androgynes, no high femmes, no fairies, no dykes, no sissies, no gender fucking.

It is suffocating in a way I don't think I could have imagined. There is no one here like me, no one who chafes at the boxes the way that I do. I am queerer than I look. Being here makes me want to try to look the way I feel.

"If I looked on the outside the way I feel on the inside, it would explode people's minds," he said to me. Exactly. This a million times over. At home it didn't matter as much, here it does.

It feels restrictive in a way that I haven't felt in years. Not since I was a child fighting to wear pants instead of skirts, begging to be able to cut my hair. I only won one of those battles, the other became an area of unquestioned discomfort, until now.

For some reason, when I was commonplace I needed it less. If I could see myself reflected in the people around me I didn't yearn so desperately to display it myself. And it is easy to be complacent when there is nothing at stake. That is at least half the truth.

The other half is that it matters more to me here and now. No one understood before and, even in my queer paradise, I was afraid. I wanted just one way that I could be normal and uncomplicated. I knew for a long time that it wouldn't work, but I tried. It's different now. I have someone I can talk to, someone who sees me. We look so different, and yet we are so alike. Except that he is far braver. He gives me courage.

I feel more and more like I am hiding. I don't look like who I am, I probably never will. I can, however, stop taking the easy way out. I can stop hiding in plain sight, disguised as a cisgendered, straightish girl (or as a lesbian, depending on who you ask).

At home it would have been unremarkable, here it will be a political act. More importantly, it will make me feel whole.

And Most of All...

I fear being brilliant and noticeably different. Being resented by my peers and mistrusted by those in authority. I am afraid that I will fail not because I am incapable, but because I grow weary of eternally fighting to prove my worth.

Nerves

I got in to my first choice of colleges, and I'm even going to be able to afford the tuition. Enrollment deposit has been sent, I'm registered for orientation, and I've been busily calling and emailing about apartments. This is an incredible opportunity for me...

It's also completely terrifying.

The thing is, I tend to have a huge case of Impostor Syndrome even in the best of situations. I routinely score in the 99th percentile on standardized tests, but so what - those tests are generally biased and don't say much about actual intelligence. All that means is that I'm good at taking standardized tests. It doesn't matter that I am at the top of the class in what are generally considered the hardest courses available. I can still tell myself that because those courses are offered at a community college they are easier than they would be at a four year school. I've been known to self-sabotage in ways that prevent me from being as intellectually challenged as I could be (that's how I ended up at the community college in the first place) because I'm incredibly afraid that my lifetime's worth of experience is false, that really I am at best average and if I try for anything more I will fail.

So I got into one of the best technical universities in the United States, a "New Ivy" according to whoever it is that makes up that kind of distinction. I'm not a traditional aged student - not too far off, but enough that I will stand out in classrooms full of 18-20 year olds. I'm female, going to a school that is about 70% male. I'm queer, and unapologetically feminist. And I know that for a woman to successfully travel the path I want in life she must be exceptional. I am horribly afraid that I am not.

I also fear that I am.

New Addition...

to my Blogroll. Go check out this new blog about disability and feminism. Very interesting people talking much more coherently than me about disability rights, feminism, and the intersectionality between them.

Celebrations

Happy Coming Out Day (yesterday) and Indigenous Peoples' Day (today)!

I just learned today that my father was there when the Wampanoag originally suggested that Columbus Day should be changed to a day celebrating the world's indigenous cultures, when he was an undergrad. Very cool.

Also, although I'm very out on this blog already, I'm queer and kinky and if there happens to be anyone out there reading who is curious or unsure about either of those things I would be perfectly happy having that conversation.

And now, a coming out story that I wrote for Coming Out Day last year:

So I kinda feel like "coming out" is much more ambiguous and less easily defined for bi-/pan-sexual/queer people than it is for those who identify as lesbian/gay, but here's my best attempt:

When I was younger I was very unclear about my sexuality. I grew up in a very open-minded town and knew plenty of gay and straight couples in the community, but bisexuality wasn't something that was ever really addressed anywhere. While I knew people who had had relationships with both men and women they were generally described as either "becoming" or "realizing that they were" gay after having had straight relationships.

By the time I was in middle school it was pretty clear that I was attracted to both women and men, not one or the other. I joined the gay-straight alliance and attended the meetings religiously. When I was 14 I kissed a girl at an event sponsored by the GSA. The next day I was approached by another girl in my grade (also a GSA member) and told how disgusting my behavior was. By the end of the day the information had spread throughout the school and I was officially labeled as "the gay girl" (even though I'm not really 'gay' exactly). My school was in a in a fairly conservative small town and this was before it was "hot" for girls to be bi- (which is a whole different issue), so it didn't really go over very well.

Thankfully, I soon transferred to a much more progressive school and most of my experiences since then have been much more positive (although people still assume that I am gay or straight based on who I am with at any given time).

Ableism at Feministing

Cosigned.

My biggest issue: the use of non-neurotypical status to discredit or dismiss the voices, opinions, and experiences of commenters in other marginalized groups (sex workers, kinksters, trans folk, etc) is unacceptable and needs to be addressed.

I don't know why I even bother to keep reading Feministing, but I just can't seem to help myself. Must be the masochism, or the crazy, or both.

A Week Late...

My condolences go out to the family, friends, and coworkers of Dr. Tiller.  I have little to say on the topic, except to fervently hope that the federal government recognizes this act of domestic terrorism for what it is and acts accordingly.

In other (happier) news, the President has proclaimed June "LGBT Pride Month."  This month marks the 40th anniversary of the Stonewall riots, and same-sex marriage has officially been legalized in six states - Rhode Island is now the only New England holdout against marriage equality.  

Still, I'm not thrilled.  Personally, and perhaps this is superficial, I would really like to see a "Q" at the end of that LGBT.  I wouldn't be opposed to an "I" or an "A" either, although I can see how it begins to be unwieldy.  Queer, though, I think is important; it leaves room for ambiguity.

Wow

So after that horrible Roller Coaster thread, Feministing seems to be full of reasonable, positive discussions of kink and BDSM.  Considering the way that every other discussion over there has gone, I'm impressed.

I sure hope this trend continues.

More from Feministing

I like this, although I'm not entirely sure why she posted it under "Sexual Assault" rather than "Sex."  Simple, straightforward, and not a bad analogy.  I wonder how long it will take for the comment thread to devolve into viciousness and chaos.  Unfortunately, I'm almost 100% sure that's what is going to happen.

Closets and Such

So, as part of their violence against women prevention/awareness week my college showed The Price of Pleasure a couple weeks ago.  The presentation was put on by the Women's Studies Advisory Committee, which is essentially code for my advisor who runs the Women's Studies program (I am a math major now, but I used to be a women's studies major and I did not change advisors).  There was a brief discussion (about 45 minutes to an hour) following the film.  I went into it expecting to be at least slightly annoyed, but I wasn't quite prepared for how angry and uncomfortable I became.

The thing is, most of my current social circle is fairly kink-friendly; I generally don't have to deal with any sort of real anti-kink attitudes in real life (online is a different story).  As a result I just wasn't prepared for people's reactions to the content of the film, particularly the more explicitly BDSM imagery.  The film in no way addresses the differences between consensually negotiated BDSM and actual violence/degradation, in fact it tends to conflate the two.  Essentially, in addition to being fairly explicitly anti-porn the film has a strong unstated anti-kink message as well.  

So I just sat there watching these people, some of whom I know fairly well and otherwise like, recoil in horror, shaking their heads in disgust as I silently fumed in the corner.  Fundamentally, it wasn't actually the disgust or the horror that really bothered me, I can at least somewhat understand that, it was the obvious sense of moral superiority that accompanied it; the room was filled with an overwhelming sense of distain.  My few attempts at addressing this were either ignored or treated with thinly veiled contempt.

I don't really know what to say about the experience.  It was extremely unpleasant, of course, but that wasn't really the worst part.  I left that discussion feeling ashamed, slightly dirty.  Some part of me really wishes that I had been brave enough to say what I was really thinking.  I wanted to stand up and point out that as wonderful as all their theory was this was my real life they were talking about.  I wanted to scream.  I wanted to tell them that it wasn't porn, it was ideas like theirs that had seeped into my unconscious to warp and poison my sexuality.  I wanted to tell them how hard I had to fight to find myself again.  Most of all I wanted to point out exactly how dangerous their words could be.

But I didn't.  I didn't say much of anything once it became obvious that they wouldn't listen.  I chose self-preservation over truth, and while I know that choice was the right one, I still couldn't help feeling slightly bad about it.

Grrrr...

I had forgotten what it feels like to sit in a room full of people and watch them recoil in disgust at a sexuality that looks like mine.  The implication that I am disgusting and broken by patriarchy stings much more in real life, particularly when it comes from people I otherwise like and respect.

More on that later.

Facebook Silliness

This would probably piss me off if it wasn't so completely ridiculous.  As it is, it mostly just makes me laugh.

"It teaches them that the only way they can be powerful is by merging with their all-powerful, god-like dom."  

Ha, ha, ha... All-powerful?  God-like?!  I love Giant to death, but no one who has ever met him would possibly define him as all-powerful or god-like.  Quiet, shy, kind - sure, but god-like is just silly.  Actually, most people tend to think I'm the dom (not quite sure what that means, but I suspect it says more about them than us).

I feel like I should have something significant to say, but it really is just to silly to take seriously.

Examining Desire (Part 3) - A Conversation

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An Open Letter to Feminist Bloggers

Please stop comparing my sexuality to porn.  No really, just stop.  Every time is see something that looks like "female submission is based on a patriarchal mindset, the majority of porn, for example..." I stop caring what you have to say.  It's not like you're even talking about kinky or BDSM porn most of the time.  Now, I have mixed feelings about most porn, maybe I would even agree with some of the things that you have to say about it, but there is one thing that I am certain of.  Mainstream pornography is in no way related to my submissive desires and vice versa.  Porn is not an example of the pervasiveness of BDSM in mainstream culture and my submission is in no way influenced by the face that most porn shows women as sex objects for men.  

Now that we've gotten over that little hurdle, please stop generalizing your experiences.  I'm sorry you dated that asshole, I really am.  Just because you had a shitty boyfriend who told you that what he wanted was "kinky" when really he was just an asshole does not mean that all female submissives actually just don't realize that we are in shitty relationships.  In the same way that I don't submit because porn told me to, I also don't submit because I think that boys should be the boss in bed (doesn't really explain why I also submit to women, does it?) or because men will like it if I am submissive.  I wasn't coerced by my boyfriend to act out his misogynistic fantasies, it was my idea.  

While it may be true that it is socially acceptable to play with furry handcuffs or get spanked by your boyfriend trust me when I say that what I'm into is not.  It's not just normal gender roles acted out on an extreme scale either.  Odds are I might agree with your opinion of why gender roles suck.  I tend to think they do - particularly when they are just taken for granted, unexamined so to speak.  That's probably why I tend to get pissed off when you ask me to examine how my desires relate to traditional gender roles and patriarchy.  I have, they don't.  Part of growing up thinking that there is something horribly wrong with you is trying to figure out why you're so messed up.  

Maybe now that we've gotten all those assumptions out of the way we might be able to have some sort of meaningful discussion.  I sincerely hope we can.

Addendum to "The Problem As I See It"

Sorry if I was over generalizing before, it's just really frustrating to me the way that real life can get lost in discussions of social theory.

On this thread at feministing, Jadelyn says: "It's funny, because I *tried* that navel-gazing back when I was realizing what some of my sexual desires were and, at the same time, growing into my feminism. Yeah, that was an ugly mind-fuck to work through."

Yeah, this is the real issue for me. I mean, I think that curiosity and social critiques are fine and all, but when you're at that stage - when you're young and unsure about your desires - if the message that you get is that your sexuality is incompatible with or harmful to feminism, well it's not a fun (or safe) place to be.

Maybe my experience is completely abnormal because I grew up in a very feminist town and area, but it was such a struggle for me to be okay with my sexuality. I tried for years to just act normal in the hopes that if I tried hard enough at it I just might change. I didn't. But I did end up in a really horrible abusive vanilla relationship and I think that part of the reason that happened, and a large part of the reason I had so much trouble leaving, was that I struggled so much with being submissive.

I think that to a certain extent I had internalized the idea that my desires justified the way that I was treated, I mean I wanted to be dominated, right? And everyone knows that's weird and dirty and certainly not feminist or self-respecting. If I had had a feminist community saying, "no, these two things can be compatible, you can have and act on those desires and still deserve to be respected as a human being" my life would have been much simpler.

So, I'm not saying don't critique, but just be careful of the ways in which you frame your questions and the messages that you send.

The Problem As I See It

It's not that I have a problem with cultural critiques of sexuality, I don't.  I am fine with discussing theory.  Really, we can all sit around and talk about how patriarchy affects sexuality all day long (although I'd really prefer the conversation included all kinds of sexuality), but we need to be aware of the effect that our words and our opinions have on people.  The problem comes when theory begins to interfere with practical reality.  

I feel, very strongly, that if member's of the dominant culture want to ask members of a less-privileged subculture to "examine their desires," it must be done very carefully and with as much respect as possible.  It's easy to theorize about things that have no effect on your own life, but for some people it's not just a theory.  It is imperative to remember that what is no more than an intellectual excursion to some is to others a matter of health, sanity, even life and death.

I'm not trying to be dramatic here, this is serious.  Many, maybe most, of us have examined our desires more thoroughly than you could possibly imagine.  We have passed countless sleepless nights wondering why we are the way that we are, often asking ourselves the question, "what is wrong with me?"  We have asked ourselves if there is some trauma that explains this desire, if perhaps it is due to some relational issue with our parents.  You had better believe that any of us who call ourselves feminists have already thought to ask ourselves if we are acting on some sort of patriarchal conditioning or internalized self-loathing.  We would have to be fools not to have considered that, please don't insult us by implying that we haven't.

We have hated ourselves and feared our desires, fruitlessly wished to just be normal.  Some of us have become suicidal.  Some have desperately tried to be the people we thought we should be, we have even tried to convince ourselves.  As a result, we can (and do) end up in horribly unhealthy and dangerous situations.  And really, this is the place where I would really like to see some feminist critique, but I don't.  Everyone is to busy telling me to examine my desires to deal with the practical implications of my examination.

So here's the deal, and this is what I wish feminist discussions of BDSM and submissive women looked like.  It can be dangerous to be a submissive woman in a male dominated society.  Specifically, it is very dangerous to be a sexually submissive woman who is conflicted or ashamed about her sexual desires.  Women who are trying to come to terms with submissive desires need a support structure of strong, vocal, and supportive women.  Trying to deny submissive desires, or feeling secretive and guilty about them, is dangerous; it can easily lead to relationships that actually are abusive and make it harder to leave those relationships.  This is particularly true when we feel alienated from feminist support systems and discourses regarding abuse.  If we are sexually assaulted we are likely to be told that we were asking for it because, after all, we're into that sort of thing.  We are also likely to feel confused and guilty about the ways our desires resemble the assault.

Submissive women do not need to be talked down to, we (generally) do not need to be told to examine our desires.  We certainly don't need you to help protect us from ourselves.  What we do need is your respect and support.  Please remember that, regardless of your intentions, the words you use matter.  Choose them wisely.  

Crossposted at http://community.feministing.com/2009/03/the-problem-as-i-see-it.html

Welcome

 I started writing today in response to this thread at feministing.  I see this type of argument far too often and usually I don't bother to comment, but for some reason today it just got to be too much.  I sent the link to Trinity at pro-sm safe spaces and she wrote a post that quoted my comment.  

I've been thinking about starting a blog for a while now.  I have plenty to say and nowhere to say most of it.  I don't get nearly enough chance to write in my daily life, and I like the anonymity of this medium.  It's been a long time since I wrote anything substantial and even longer since I've gotten much positive feedback for my writing.  I guess having my comment acknowledged by someone whose writing I respect today is what inspired me to start this blog now, when I've been toying with the idea for so long.

So, if anyone should happen to stumble upon my musings, welcome.  As long as you are respectful I'd love to hear (read?) what you have to say.