experience is primarily with dungeons owned by "lifestyle" BDSMers -- "lifestyle" being a clumsy word that attempts to denote those of us who are motivated to do BDSM for reasons other than money. While there is some overlap between "lifestyle" BDSM and professional BDSM, the overlap can be surprisingly rare, and professional BDSM is often banned at lifestyle BDSM parties. Lifestyle dungeons are often non-profit organizations, and often function more like community centers than moneymaking venues. I understand that some professional dungeons have a "no sex" rule out of a desire to protect the boundaries of dominatrixes who work there, who may not wish to be asked to engage in Sex.) There are also plenty of cultural groups who do things that look suspiciously like BDSM... who insist that they have nothing to do with BDSM. For example, I've heard of spanking clubs whose members get really mad if you dare bring BDSM up in their presence. And then there's groups like Taken In Hand, a quasi-conservative organization. Actual testimonial from the Taken In Hand site: There are lots of websites for people in the BDSM, D/s, DD (domestic discipline) and spanking communities. There are websites for people who belong to religions that advocate male-head-of-household marriage. There are even websites for Christians who are interested in BDSM. But there are very few websites for people who are interested in male-led intimate relationships but who are not interested in all that the above communities associate with this kind of relationship (jargon, clothes, etc.) Some of us don't even like thinking of this as a lifestyle. Well, my friend, you know what... you can refuse to call yourself BDSM all you want, and you can reject our "jargon" all you want, and you can "dislike" thinking of this "lifestyle" until the end of time... and you have every right to insist that we have nothing to do with you. But when your site has posts that include comments like "When my husband behaves in a dominant manner I basically swoon," or have titles like "Don't forget your whip," well... I'm just saying. Also, since you mention rejecting BDSM "clothes"? I'll just say that I can be an astoundingly badass domme in a t-shirt. And I have done so. Multiple times. Personally, I am particularly frustrated by the stigmatizing idea that BDSM has nothing to do with love. Sometimes I encounter this idea that BDSM has to be separated from sex because BDSM has nothing to do with sex, whereas sex supposedly "should" be about love. The truth is that both BDSM and sex are very different for different people, emotions-wise. Although many people experiment with "casual BDSM," the same way many people experiment with "casual sex," a stereotype that BDSMers cannot find love in the act is wrong and absurd. So yeah. Nowadays, many of these "BDSM versus sex" reactions strike me as being born out of pure, irrational stigma. As Dr. Klein noted, these reactions are usually born of the terrible human urge to exclude: to find ways to differentiate ourselves from "those people." Humans apparently love to think things like: "I'm not like those people. It doesn't matter if I, for example, write extensive rape fantasy fiction! That couldn't HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018538

possibly be BDSM! Because I'm not a BDSMer! Because BDSM is dirty." But we shouldn't necessarily blame people for this instinct to reject and categorize: the instinct is one that comes from being scared and oppressed... because the social penalties for "getting it wrong” are high. Remember, those New York City dominatrixes thought they were "safe" from the law as long as BDSM didn't count as sex. But as soon as someone decided BDSM "counted as" sex, those dominatrixes were arrested. It's just one more example of how sexual stigma for "different kinds of sex" is constantly intertwined. No type of consensual sexuality can express itself freely until people agree that "among consenting adults, there is no 'should’." The Romans, those ancient imperialists, used to say: "Divide and conquer." When consensual sexualities are scared of each other, we will continue to be conquered. As long as "vanilla" people are afraid of "BDSM"... as long as "BDSMers" are afraid of being seen as "sexual"... as long as the social penalties for being a "slut" or a "whore" are incredibly steep... as long as sex workers are stigmatized and criminalized... everyone will be bound by these oppressive standards. KOK ok The Embodied Side of BDSM versus Sex Although Part 1 was all about how the divide between "BDSM" and "sex" is often nonsensical, or purely political, or socially constructed... that doesn't mean that the divide does not exist. I once had a conversation about ignoring social constructs with a wise friend, who noted dryly that: "One-way streets are a social construct. That doesn't mean we should ignore them." Just because the outside world influences our sexuality, does not mean that our sexual preferences are invalid. Some polyamorous BDSMers have very different rules about having sex with outsiders, as opposed to doing BDSM with outsiders. For example, during the time when I was considering a transition to polyamory, I myself had a couple relationships where we were sexually monogamous -- yet my partners agreed that I could do BDSM with people who weren't my partner. Those particular partners felt jealous and threatened by the idea of me having sex with another man, but they didn't mind if I did BDSM with another man. Maybe the feelings of those partners only arose because they categorized "BDSM" and "sex" into weirdly different socially-constructed ways... but those partners' feelings were nonetheless real, and their feelings deserved respect. And there are also unmistakable ways that BDSM feels different from sex. There is something, bodily, that is just plain different about BDSM, as opposed to sex. I often find myself thinking of "BDSM feelings" and "sexual feelings" as flowing down two parallel channels in my head... sometimes these channels intersect, but sometimes they're far apart. The BDSM urge strikes me as deeply different, separate, from the sex urge. It can be fun to combine BDSM and sex, but there are definitely times when I want BDSM that feel very unlike most times when I want sex. The biggest political reason why it's difficult to discuss this is the way in which we currently conceptualize sexuality through "orientations": we have built a cultural “orientation model" focused on the idea that "acceptable" sexuality is "built-in," or HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018539

"innate." Some BDSMers consider BDSM an "orientation" -- and I, myself, once found that thinking of BDSM as an orientation was extremely helpful in coming to terms with my BDSM desires. But one thing I don't like about the orientation model now is that it makes us sound like we're apologizing. "Poor little me! It's not my fault I'm straight! Or a domme! Whatever!" Why would any of these things be faults in the first place? Our bodies are our own, our experiences are our own, and our consent is our own to give. The orientation model is one of the cultural factors that makes it hard to discuss sensory, sensual experiences without defaulting to sexuality. As commenter saurus pointed out on the Feministe version of part 1 of this post: Sometimes I think that we have compulsions, needs or "fetishes" that aren't sexual, but lumping them in with sexuality is sometimes the most convenient or socially manageable way to deal with them or get those needs met. They might even physically arouse us for a variety of reasons, but that might be a side effect instead of the act's inherent nature. Which is not to say that every act can be cleanly cleaved into "sexual" and "non-sexual" -- of course not. But I think we lack a language around these needs that doesn't use sexuality. I see a lot of groundbreaking work coming out of the asexual and disability justice communities in this regard (which is just to say that I find the folks in these groups are churning out some incredible ways to "queer" conventional dominant ideas about sexuality; not that they never have sex or whatever). I think one answer to that is to just open up the definition of sexuality to include these things, but as someone who identifies vehemently not as "sex positive" but as "sex non- judgmental," I know I don't personally want all my shit to be lumped in with sexuality. It just makes me picture some sex judgmental person insisting that "oh, that's totally sexual.” I, Clarisse, can certainly attest that it's common for people to have BDSM encounters that are "just" BDSM -- "no sex involved.” For example -- an encounter where one partner whips the other, or gets whipped, and there's no genital contact or even discussion of genitals. And I'd like to stress that when I have encounters like that, they can be very satisfying without involving sex. The release -- the high -- I get from a heavy BDSM encounter can be its own reward. I've also had BDSM encounters where I got turned on... ... but I didn't feel turned on until later, or afterwards, or until my partner did something specific to draw out my desire. For example -- I remember that in one intense BDSM encounter as a domme, I wound up the encounter and pulled away from my partner. We had both been sitting down; I stood up and took off the metal claws I'd been using to rip him up. (Secretly, the claws were banjo picks. Do-It-Yourself BDSM is awesome.) Then I leaned over my partner to pick something up. I had thought we were pretty much done, but he seized me as I leaned over, and he pulled me close and kissed my neck, and I literally gasped in shock. My sexual desire spiked so hard... I practically melted into his arms. And yet if you'd asked me, moments before, whether I was turned on... I would have said "no." One way to think about it might be that sometimes, BDSM "primes" me so that I'm HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018540

more receptive to sexual energy. It's not that BDSM is exactly a sexual turn-on in itself; sometimes it is, but that's actually surprisingly rare. Yet BDSM often... gets my blood flowing?... and seems to "open the floodgates,” so sexual hormones can storm through my body. And just in case this wasn't complex enough for you... on the other hand, I've had BDSM encounters where my partner tried to take it sexual, and I wasn't interested. It's almost like there's a BDSM cycle that I often get into, and once the cycle is sufficiently advanced, I can't easily shift out of it. Sometimes, when I'm near the "peak" of the BDSM cycle, then being interrupted for any reason -- sex, or anything else -- is absolutely horrible. I'd rather be left on the edge of orgasm, burning with sexual desire, than be hurt until I almost cry. The emotion becomes a stubborn lump in my throat; becomes balled up in my chest. At times like that, it almost feels hard to breathe. A while back, a reporter named Mac McClelland who worked in Haiti made a splash by writing an article about how she used "violent sex" to ease her Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I briefly reported on the article for Feministe, but at the time, I didn't share many of my thoughts about what she wrote. One thing I did say was that the reporter didn't use any BDSM terminology -- at least not that I spotted. She didn't seem to conceptualize her desire for "violent sex" as a BDSM thing at all. Interestingly, a Feministe commenter named Jadey, who has experience with kink, also didn't conceptualize the reporter's article that way. Jadey wrote: I don't think she's bad or wrong, and I don't think her method of coping with her PTSD is bad or wrong.... [Yet] I've got a kink/BDSM background, but that's not what she's describing here. She's talking about something far different, and I can't understand the experience she describes with Isaac. It is... incomprehensible. I want to stress here that I, Clarisse Thorn, have never been diagnosed with Post- Traumatic Stress Disorder. (And I've undergone plenty of analysis, so I'm sure that if I had PTSD, someone would have noticed by now.) And just in case it needs to be said again, I'll also stress that I have no intention of telling anyone else how to define their own experiences. And just in case it needs to be said again, there is a big difference between consenting BDSM and abuse. But unlike Jadey, when I read the original "violent sex" article, the reporter's description of her encounter sounded a lot like some of my preferences... indeed, it sounded like some of the BDSM encounters I've had. For example, the reporter writes: "Okay," my partner said. "I love you, okay?" I said, I know, okay. And with that he was on me, forcing my arms to my sides, then pinning them over my head, sliding a hand up under my shirt when I couldn't stop him. The control I'd lost made my torso scream with anxiety; I cried out desperately as I kicked myself free.... When I got out from under him and started to scramble away, he simply caught me by a leg or an upper arm or my hair and dragged me back. By the time he pinned me by my neck with one forearm so I was forced to use both hands to free up space between his elbow and my windpipe, I'd largely exhausted myself. HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018541

And just like that, I'd lost. It's what I was looking for, of course. But my body -- my hard- fighting, adrenaline-drenched body -- reacted by exploding into terrible panic.... I did not enjoy it in the way a person getting screwed normally would. But as it became clear that I could endure it, I started to take deeper breaths. And my mind stayed there, stayed present even when it became painful.... My body felt devastated but relieved; I'd lost, but survived. After he climbed off me, he gathered me up in his arms. I broke into a thousand pieces on his chest, sobbing so hard that my ribs felt like they were coming loose. ... Lsaac pulled my hair away from my wet face, repeating over and over and over something that he probably believed but that I had to relearn. "You are so strong," he said. "You are so strong. You are so strong." Sounds extremely familiar to me. Now, it's not like I have BDSM encounters like that all the time; indeed, experiences of that type are relatively rare for me. But the reporter's description doesn't sound "far different" from what I've experienced. Certainly not "incomprehensible." There's only one big difference, actually: I've never had such an intense BDSM experience in which my partner also had penis-in-vagina sex with me. (I'm assuming the reporter means "penis-in-vagina" sex when she talks about "getting screwed", but I could be wrong.) Honestly, I'm not sure why I would want to combine vaginal sex with an experience like that. Vaginal sex strikes me, personally, as kinda incidental to what I'd get out of it. But maybe I'll try it sometime and it'll be the greatest thing in the world; we'll see, I guess. Sometimes I find that I've still got a""BDSM versus sex" distinction to work out, although I seem to have comfortably settled into the frameworks I've created. One of my very first blog entries, back in 2008, was called "Casual Sex? Casual Kink?", and I spent the whole thing musing about whether I was more or less okay with casual BDSM than I was with casual sex. These days, I find that I'm kinda okay with both casual sex and casual BDSM, but I much prefer those experiences within intimate relationships. Make no mistake, my friends: BDSM can include a great deal of love and connection... at least as much as sex. To hammer the point home, let me tell you about what happened after I broke up with a much-beloved ex-boyfriend: Mr. Inferno. It was back when I was very focused on being monogamous with my partners. Mr. Inferno broke up with me, and a month or two later I had the chance to have an overnight BDSM encounter with another man, so I took it. There was no genital contact; the whole encounter was limited to this guy giving me orders, and hurting me until I cried. But I remember, even as I slipped into the familiar emotional cycle, that I couldn't let go: I couldn't let go because I felt like I was betraying Mr. Inferno. He'd broken my heart, but on some level I felt like I still belonged to him. It was wrong, wrong, wrong for me to cry in someone else's arms. The wrongness rang through me like a bell. It was so impossible, unbearable -- all I could think was how it should have been Mr. Inferno. I choked on the tears. I couldn't lose myself in them. Later, I mentioned to my partner that one of my ex-boyfriends (not Mr. Inferno) had HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018542

trouble dealing with my BDSM desires. "Ah," my partner said. "That explains why you had trouble letting yourself cry." I decided to nod; to let him think he knew what was blocking me off. It seemed simpler. In the morning, I had breakfast with my partner. We hugged and split up, and I went for a walk until I found a local creek. I sat next to the creek and I closed my eyes and I let the helpless tears slip down my cheeks. I'd felt (and I'd known others who felt) this way after the dissolution of a sexual relationship. But I had never imagined that such a reaction of intense bodily loyalty could apply to BDSM as well as sex. I hadn't anticipated that I'd feel such heartbreaking, visceral loss just because I let another man hurt me. So different, and yet so the same. te ok ok This can be found on the Internet in two parts: S&M: [theory] BDSM Roles, ''Topping From The Bottom," and "Service Top" I wrote this post in 2011. KK Ok BDSM Roles, "Topping From The Bottom," and "Service Top" I often say that all consensual sexuality is okay. Open relationships? S&M? Same-sex partnerships? One-night stands? Porn? I could care less how people have sex, as long as the people involved are consenting adults. This means that most of the interesting and important questions are about consent: how do we make sure that we always have consensual sex? How do we ensure that we're always respecting our own boundaries and our partners’ boundaries? How do we talk about our preferences and our consent? I write a lot about sexual communication for this reason. Every once in a while, though, there's something interesting to discuss besides consent. (Totally weird, I know!) One of those interesting things is stereotypes. Also interesting: bad dynamics in the BDSM community. HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018543

One example of a bad, weird dynamic is the "one true way" thing. Some people act like there are "right" ways and "wrong" ways to do consensual BDSM -- as if some consensual BDSM is more legit than other consensual BDSM. Often, people do this via what we call "role policing”: they make claims about "real submission” and "real dominance." (Even worse, people will sometimes act like dominant people are socially "better" or "more important” than submissive people. Or they'll act like men are "inherently" dominant, or women are "inherently" submissive. It's a clusterfuck! Thomas MacAulay Millar has a great essay about this called "Domism.") Examples of role policing might include: * "If you were really submissive, then you would be serving my dinner right now instead of having me serve myself." * "If you were really dominant, then you would pay for my drinks.” * "If you were really submissive, then you wouldn't be confident enough to write a blog about your sex life." (Not that I'm biased or anything.) Sometimes these are hilarious light-hearted jokes. But sometimes they're not. Sometimes they're bullshit, and they make people feel as though they're "bad at submission" or "bad at dominance.” Also, it gets really silly when we start thinking about switches -- people who can feel comfortable in the dominant role or the submissive role, such as myself. One very common, relevant assumption is that dominant people always enjoy inflicting pain: that sadists and dominants are always the same group. They're not! Sometimes people are into sadism, or into dominance, or maybe they're into a lot of sadism but a little dominance, or whatever. The same thing goes for submission: sometimes people are submissive and like taking pain, but sometimes people are submissive without being masochistic, or maybe they're into a little bit of submission and a lot of masochism, or whatever. Or maybe they're masochists who like ordering their partners to hurt them. I once threw a memorable party at which my then-boyfriend, a mostly-submissive gentleman, arranged for a bunch of our friends to grab me and hold me down while he ate cake off my body. As he did this, I clearly recall shouting at him: "You better hurt me, or I'm going to safeword on your ass." So he hurt me! It was great. Because "submissive" and "masochist" aren't always the same thing -- and "dominant" and "sadist" aren't always the same thing -- the BDSM community uses the terms "bottom" and "top." A "bottom" is a blanket term for a submissive and/or a masochist -- the receiving partner. A "top" is a blanket term for a dominant and/or a sadist -- the partner who is providing sensation. The point is to have words that indicate who is giving and who is receiving, without making claims about each partner's preferences. (These words can also be used as verbs. For example, if 1 am "topping," then I am in the dominant and/or sadistic position.) And yet! Even though we have these handy terms "top" and "bottom," which are specifically designed to help us avoid making assumptions, people end up making assumptions. There are two common BDSM community phrases that are often deployed HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018544

in tones of disgust and irritation. One of those phrases is "topping from the bottom.” The other phrase is "service top.” "Topping from the bottom” indicates a person who exercises power in the relationship, despite being in the "bottom" position. There's nothing wrong with doing that, as long as both partners consent. But some people talk about "topping from the bottom” like it's bad -- as if power ought to belong to one side or the other; as if the bottom should never express preferences or make decisions about what's going on. Which is ridiculous. I'll grant that it can be annoying if I'm trying to be a top, and my partner isn't listening or isn't doing what I want. But in those cases, it's important to pay attention to what is actually going on. Is my partner resisting because he actually doesn't want to do what we're doing? In that case, I should respect his preferences. Or maybe my partner is resisting because he wants me to punish him. Or maybe we just have bad chemistry! Whatever. The point is, "topping from the bottom” isn't inherently a bad thing. "Topping from the bottom" doesn't make the bottom into a "bad submissive" or whatever. It just means that either the person is trying to communicate, or the person is looking for a certain kind of push-pull dynamic. Simultaneously, there's the phrase "service top." It's basically the same thing in reverse. A "service top" is a top who enjoys topping in line with his partner's desires. And once again, some people act like this is a bad thing -- as if service tops "aren't dominant enough.” But it's not inherently a bad thing! Ifa service top is doing things just because her partner likes them... then good for her! I sometimes use phrases like "topping from the bottom" and "service top" to describe dynamics of a relationship: to talk about what is actually going on. But that's because I don't think there's anything wrong with topping from the bottom or being a service top. I try to avoid joking around about it unless I know that the person I'm talking to is not sensitive about the topic. And I really don't like it when people use those phrases while role policing. BDSM can carry an incredible emotional charge, and a lot of the time, people will want comfort and snuggles after doing BDSM together. Sometimes, part of that comfort and snuggles includes reassuring the partner: "I know you just beat the shit out of me until I cried; I enjoyed it -- I still like you and think you're a good person." Or, "I know you called your safeword while I was hurting you; I still think you're a beautiful submissive and you did a great job -- in fact I love it when you call your safeword because it helps me understand you better." I think that in these cases it's totally okay to say something like, "You're such a good submissive." But it's so important to keep in mind that there isn't some kind of submission that's inherently "better" than any other kind -- or dominance that's "better" -- or sadism, masochism, whatever. And here is the part of the entry where I pull aside the mask and reveal that even though I claimed I wouldn't talk about consent... I was secretly talking about consent all along! The consent problem here is that role policing can be used to mess with people's consent, because role policing can be used to pressure people. If a person wants to feel like a "real submissive,” and you tell them that "real submissives" always receive anal HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018545

sex... then the person might accept anal sex even if he doesn't really want to... because he wants to be a "real submissive." I have personally witnessed accusations of "topping from the bottom" or "service top” being used to hurt people who were just trying to communicate, or arrange a relationship that they liked. For example: "I thought you were a submissive. Why are you asking me to tie you up? Stop topping from the bottom! I'm the dominant partner, I make the decisions!" An important facet of consent is trying to create a pressure-free environment, so that all partners feel comfortable talking about what they want. Sometimes, it can be very hard to create that environment, because pressure isn't always easy to see or understand -- but if we want maximum consent power, then we have to do our best. One way to create a pressure-free environment is to be careful about phrases like "topping from the bottom” and "service top" and the role policing that can go along with those phrases. te OK ok This can be found on the Internet at: http://clarissethorn.com/blog/2011/11/12/bdsm-roles-topping-from-the-bottom-and- service-top/ FEMINISM: [theory] "Inherent Female Submission": The Wrong Question I wrote this post in mid-2011. Perhaps you can tell that I was in the depths of my obsession with pickup artists at the time... those guys talk about "inherent female submission” ad nauseam. Not all pickup artists are evil and misogynist, but the ones who are love to beat this horse. KK ok "Inherent Female Submission": The Wrong Question I get a certain question occasionally, from straight dudes who've had a number of sexual partners. It goes something like this: All the women I've slept with liked pain. They asked me to hurt them or to dominate them in bed. I did it, and enjoyed it; I loved how much it turned them on... it turned them on a lot. But I keep thinking about it now. Why are all women into being submissive and/or masochistic in bed? What does that mean? They ask me this question in vaguely worried tones. Sometimes they say things like, "It's really creepy." It is obvious that these dudes are rather concerned about this Terrible Truth. HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018546

Here's my short answer for those guys: If you know women who are submissive and/or masochistic in bed, that means those particular women like being submissive and/or masochistic in bed. It doesn't mean anything else. You're still here? Ah, well. I figured that wouldn't satisfy. So here's a longer answer: Firstly, if you're a straight dude, and you're drawing conclusions about "all women" based on the women you get involved with, then stop. Just stop. Even if you have slept with zillions of women, you don't actually know what all women want, because: A) Your experience of women is limited to women who got involved with you. You are screening for certain qualities, sometimes consciously, and sometimes unconsciously or by accident. If you tend to enjoy the dominant role, for example, or if you use a dominant style of flirtation, then you could be screening for submissive female partners, whether you intend to or not. B) Everyone has biases, including you. I love the old saying: "When all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail." If you have a bias towards seeing women as sexually submissive (and you almost certainly do, because female sexual submission is a hugely prevalent cultural trope), then you're more likely to see female submission in places where it does not exist. C) Women, like people of all genders, are demonstrably varied. You really don't think non-submissive straight women exist? Why then, it must be so inconvenient when I point you to the work of blatantly dominant women, huh? It's shocking, I know... next I'll be telling you that queer and asexual women exist! (Not to mention women who switch among roles -- from submissive to dominant, from sadistic to masochistic. I primarily go for submissive masochism, but still, I myself play for both teams.) The thing is, though... no matter how many holes I can poke in these dudes' anecdotal "data," I can't bring myself to worry like they do. Even if a brilliant, well-reviewed study came out tomorrow and proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that 100% of women are submissive masochists in bed, I wouldn't care. (I bet you my left ear this study will never happen, but I'm just saying, even if it did, I wouldn't care.) Let me say it really clearly: Even if most women are submissive masochists in bed (and I'm not convinced most women are), there's nothing wrong with that. I don't care. Why don't I care? Because all this anxiety and argument about submission -- and in particular, what it means for women to be submissive; whether all women are submissive; whether women are "inherently" or "biologically" submissive; whether BDSM is an orientation or not... this is all the wrong question. I'll note that the research seems to indicate that more kinky women are submissive than dominant. Of course, this doesn't necessarily indicate anything about the tastes of women who don't identify as kinky. And it's probably biased by culture, in that everything from fashion photos to romance novels emphasizes female submission and male dominance. Within BDSM culture, female dominance and male submission are often disappeared, much to the justified frustration of actual female dominants and male submissives. When HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018547

all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail -- sometimes including our own psyches and sexualities. Plus, if the only available patterns for kink emphasize something a person doesn't like, then that person will probably avoid kink. Note that in the research I linked to, for example, the percentage of submissive women was higher in samples from within the BDSM subculture than in samples from outside the BDSM subculture... perhaps because many BDSM subcultural gatherings emphasize female submission and thereby alienate women who are primarily dominant. Anyway, regardless... this is still the wrong question. In short, "inherent female submission" is the wrong question. Certainly, I've fought through a lot of personal fears about what my interest in BDSM meant for me as a feminist... but these days I have trouble understanding what, exactly, got me so upset. I can't believe how long it took me to outthink those fears. Now, it just seems instinctively obvious to me that: 1) The only reason these conversations happen at all is that BDSM, and especially submission, is seen as broken and problematic and screwed-up and a sign of weakness. What if we viewed S&M proclivities as a superpower rather than a perversion? What if submission and masochism, in particular, were viewed as signs of strength and endurance and emotional complexity, rather than weakness? 2) Sexual kinks don't necessarily affect one's performance in non-sexual fields. A sexually submissive woman won't make a bad CEO (at least, not because she's sexually submissive). I mean, come on, it's not like there aren't sexually submissive men in powerful corporate positions. When I was younger I remember being scared that, in some bizarre way, I was betraying women's liberation by being sexually submissive; this seems ridiculous to me now. That fear can only survive in a culture where people are looking for excuses -- no matter how flimsy -- to control and disempower women. Because it doesn't make any damn sense on its own. 3) Rape is still rape. Everyone still has a right to consent, including submissives. A submissive partner (of any gender) must be able to withdraw consent, and a dominant partner (of any gender) must make space for them to withdraw consent. It's always great when both partners can have an honest conversation about desire, trying to avoid pressure and unfair expectations (whether those expectations arise from sexist culture or from whatever else). Safewords are one frequently-recommended communication tactic for those who have rape fantasies, although they aren't the only tactic. What really burns me about many discussions of "inherent female submission" is that they have horrible overtones of blaming the victim and justifying rape... much like "she was wearing a short skirt, so she was asking for it." In reality, "inherent female submission" says absolutely nothing about women’s right to choose our partners and protect our bodily integrity. Female submissives have made it perfectly clear that we do, in fact, claim that right. I think most of the dudes who ask this question come to me, a feminist, and they ask this question in hushed and worried tones, because they are decent guys and they are concerned about The Consequences Of This Terrible Truth. I'd venture a guess that HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018548

they've met other dudes who talk nonstop about how women are vain and stupid and hysterical and, snicker snicker, why do we let those dumb bitches even vote and, oh by the way, did you know that lots of girls like to be choked and isn't that sooo significant... ? And so these decent guys who are talking to me -- they have learned to associate discussions of female sexual submission with anti-feminism, and with attempts to disempower women in other spheres. Being decent guys, this worries them, because they know that people of all genders deserve equal opportunity. But it is all a red herring! It's a series of illusions thrown up by BDSM stigma; by the idea that sexual kinks always mean something about the rest of a person's life; by people who don't comprehend that everyone has the right to consent; and by blatant, uncomplicated misogyny! Female sexual submission isn't even close to a threat to women's liberation, unless we allow it to be. If we weren't constantly forced to deal with the broken assumptions of a broken misogynist culture, this question would never occur to anyone! It doesn't matter nearly as much what the cultural patterns are around sexual submission, as it does how we deal with sexual submission. If your partner is submissive, you can respect their desires and also respect them as a person. As I already noted, in BDSM this means communicating carefully, like with safewords and/or other tactics. Some people can have great sexual communication that's totally non-verbal -- but I always encourage explicit verbal communication because for many people, it's easier to make intentions and desires clear that way, and tactics like safewords provide a fallback in case there's a mistake. So: what does "inherent female submission" mean for women, for feminism, for equal rights, for women who work, for powerful women? For housewives? For disabled women? For female rape survivors? For rape survivors of other genders? Say it with me now: It's the wrong question. The mere act of asking this question implies a cultural context that is seeking excuses to disempower women. Female sexual submission means nothing... ... except what every woman wants it to mean, for herself. TK OK ok This can be found on the Internet at: http://clarissethorn.com/blog/2011/07/01/inherent-female-submission-the-wrong- question/ MANLINESS: [theory] Fifty Shades of Grey, Fight Club, and the Complications of Male Dominance HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018549

I wrote this in early 2012, when everyone and their brother was talking about the amazingly successful fanfiction-turned-BDSM-smut Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy, by E.L. James. (The online version of this post contains a bunch of relevant current links at the end.) It's one of my rare attempts at pegging an article to a recent news item; I had been planning to write this article for months, but Fifty Shades gave me an opportunity to actually do it. My main goal as a sex writer has always been to put forth analysis that's responsive to the conversations I hear a lot, yet independent of the latest craze. For one thing, I almost never care to track what Everyone Is Talking About Right This Minute!!, and I'm irritated to think that I ought to do so. But I've come to reluctantly understand that responding to current news is one of the best ways to get more eyeballs on my work, so I'm trying to do more of that. I've also been encouraged in that direction by employers -- most notably the gender-lens website RoleReboot.org, where I took on the role of Sex + Relationships Section Editor in late 2011. A slightly shorter version of this article was originally published there. te Kk ok Fifty Shades of Grey, Fight Club, and the Complications of Male Dominance Much is being made of the highly successful S&M erotica novel Fifty Shades of Grey. People are blaming feminism for making women into submissives, blaming feminism for preventing women from being submissives, blaming women for having sexual desires at all, and a whole lot of other boring and typical stuff that comes up in any conversation about women and S&M. News flash: it's not the feminist revolution that is "causing" women to have fantasies of submission. S&M fantasies have been around since the beginning of time. (And the 1950s S&M-sensation book, The Story of O, was much better written than Fifty Shades of Grey.) As an S&M writer, I hear a lot of allegations about how "all" (or "almost all") women are sexually submissive and how this must Mean Something. This is echoed in the coverage of Fifty Shades of Grey, in which everyone is demanding to know What It All Means About Women. I've already taken on these questions as they apply to women. But there's another submerged question here -- about men. There's plenty of talk and stereotypes about how men are inherently violent, or more aggressive than women, or "the dominant sex.” As I said in my previous article: I think it's quite questionable whether women are "inherently submissive,” but my conclusion is that I don't care. It doesn't actually matter to me whether women in general are "inherently submissive” (though I really don't think women are), or whether submissive women's preferences are philosophically Deep And Meaningful (though I'm not convinced they are). What matters is: 1. How women (or any other people) can explore sexually submissive preferences consensually, 2. How women (or any other people) can compartmentalize submissive preferences so that their whole lives are safe and fulfilling and happy, and 3. How women (or any other people) can be treated well in arenas that aren't even relevant to their sexuality -- like the workplace. HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018550

This is also how I feel about these ideas of "inherent male violence.” I don't buy that men are "the dominant sex" or that men are "inherently violent." Based on what I've read, it seems quite clear that individuals with higher testosterone levels -- who are, incidentally, not always men -- often experience more aggressive feelings. Yet that's a far cry from large-scale generalizations, and it's also frequently irrelevant to questions about how people can best deal with those aggressive feelings. Plus, psychological submission can be a very separate thing from physical aggression levels. Much of the time, when it comes to aggression, anger management is the answer, the same way a naturally shy or submissive person needs to learn to set boundaries. But there are circumstances where catharsis is completely acceptable. Lots of perfectly decent men have urges towards violent dominance; what do they do about it? How much do they agonize, like Christian Grey in Fifty Shades of Grey, and how much do they explore their desires in a consensual and reasonable way? I always thought that the late-90s movie Fight Club was fascinating primarily because of its lens on masculinity and violence. It's not just about the violence men to do each other, but to themselves. Quotes include "You have to give up; you have to know that someday you're gonna die," and "The first rule of Fight Club is: you do not talk about Fight Club.” I first watched it before I knew much about S&M, but now whenever I think about it, I think about how the idea of a fight club -- where people would get together and fight, for catharsis and community -- is so very reminiscent of how a lot of people experience S&M. Fight Club even has safewords. Someone says stop, you stop. I obviously don't support the endpoint of the Fight Club story (1.e., blowing up buildings), but the idea of establishing a men's community via a fight club seems reasonable to me. So, what are the practicalities of dealing with aggressive or dominant tendencies in the sexual arena? As an S&M person, I've experimented with dominance as well as submission, but because violence is so associated with masculinity, I turned to some egalitarian male S&Mers for advice. I believe that even for non-S&M people, their perspectives make a really good lens for ideas of gender and violence and power. Of course, the first thing one of my friends told me was: "I'm not sure I really see dominance in general as being particularly masculine. I don't really think it's a gender associated thing.” That gentleman, who comments around the Internet under the name Scootah, went on to add: "I've certainly worried about my kinks in the past. I mean fundamentally, I get really, really turned on by grabbing someone by the hair, throwing them into the wall, backhanding them, etc. That's a pretty disturbing thought for an egalitarian who's worked with abuse victims. I spend a lot of time considering the ethics of my kinks; my partners’ enthusiastic consent is a major priority." Jay Wiseman, author of the famous S&M primer $101, talks about his own early fears towards the beginning of that book. He writes about how he began having sadistic fantasies, and went to the public library to research them. All he could find was portraits of serial killers, which scared the hell out of him. He writes: I decided to keep myself under surveillance. I made up my mind that I was not going to hurt anybody. If I thought I was turning into someone that would harm somebody else, HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018551

then I would either put myself in a mental institution or commit suicide. And thus I lived, waiting and watching to see if I was turning into someone that I needed to shoot. Fortunately, Wiseman found partners who were open to exploring S&M with him, and went on to write extensively about safety and consent and communication within S&M. Trying to communicate in an egalitarian way is arguably the most complicated part of any S&M encounter; as Scootah told me, "There are certainly elements that could potentially unbalance a relationship in my favor. I'm a big reasonably strong guy. I do usually make more money than my partners. I also have this whole sense of position in the local S&M community. I mostly just try to be aware of those things. I try to be very careful about not taking advantage of that and negotiate clearly and not pressure people.” There are lots of ways to do clear negotiation, including asking open-ended questions before any S&M actually happens: "What are you interested in? Could you go into that more?" There's also a huge emphasis on talking through the S&M encounter afterwards, as part of the post-S&M processing we call aftercare. As another gent who goes by Noir said: "It really helped me to have a few great, feminist S&M partners. Having that echo of ‘it's OK, I want this,' as well as the honest feedback when I do wrong really helped shape how I experience S&M, and with who. It's meant I learned how better to read and grasp the people in my, er, grasp.” Noir also noted, "I strive to use dominance and submission as a tool for helping my partners become stronger, in ways that also feed my S&M preferences. For example, I tend to form long-term interests with women who want a 'safe space’ to extend and explore their ability to be sluts, with all that can imply. But in the process, we also explore how becoming more confident in one's sexuality also can reflect into everyday life. Also, just coming to spaces in the S&M community can be a goldmine of information. All a dominant man has to do is read, listen, open up and understand. One thing I learned was that my fears about reinforcing our messed-up society were shared by women into kink... but also that my ways of approaching the topic, as 'oh, we're so controlled by society!' were themselves pushing too much agency out of women's choices. There's a balance there that we guys who identify as both feminist and kinky have to respect, and that can come from listening to feminist women struggle with these issues, themselves." The alternative sexuality advocate Pepper Mint (who has his own blog) told me that in terms of putting gender on his experiences, "I am a bit genderqueer, and I personally experience dominance with either a feminine or masculine vibe from moment to moment. Certain activities -- like punching -- feel masculine, while others -- like whipping -- feminine in the moment. Also, I switch, meaning that I don't always take the dominant role. Strangely, my most clearly masculine S&M activity is masochism. I always feel very manly while taking pain. I don't think I can clearly explain why these things have attached to gender in my head, though presumably I'm being affected by cultural tropes to some extent.” The consensus in general was that dominance, whether masculine or feminine, is something that happens in an encounter... not outside it. As Pepper put it, "New guys often want to play hard or do hardcore things, and will often boast and swagger. Kinky women almost always recognize this as dangerous bullshit. Learn to chill out and not take HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018552

yourself too seriously, and learn to start with a light careful touch when playing with someone new. Learn to ask for help and guidance, both from others in your S&M community and from your partners.” Scootah agreed: "The first mistake I see newbie doms make is trying too hard to be some kind of bad ass. Admit your inexperience. Be seen learning. Be modest and have a good time. Learn to communicate well, and to really be friends with your prospective partners." For me, the bottom line of these conversations is that questioning gender roles, and understanding gender complications, is an ongoing process. People have a lot of urges and preferences that are politically inconvenient and which we will never fully understand. Whether we're shaped by biology or culture, those feelings will still exist for now, and we have to deal with them. There are ways to do almost anything such that people respect each other, though -- whatever the implications for gender or power. Violence is complicated ground, but it can be used in balanced and consensual ways that end up bonding people together. Fifty Shades of Grey and Fight Club are both examples, and I haven't even touched competitive sports! TK OK ok This can be found on the Internet at: ABUSE: [theory] The Alt Sex Anti-Abuse Dream Team I wrote this post in 2010 for the high-profile feminist blog Feministe. If I were to write it today, then I would write it differently. In particular, if I were writing it today, then I would emphasize that there are actually two primary patterns for abusive S&M perpetrators. There are the ones I emphasized in this post, the ones who prey on inexperienced people outside the community... but then there's another category: perpetrators who achieve high status within the community and then use it to get away with non-consensual things. Other BDSMers have been writing about this more and more, and the discussion is really heating up right now, in 2012. My fellow feminist BDSM writer Thomas MacAulay Millar has a particularly long, complex blog series about patterns of abuse in the BDSM community that gives a lot of great reference links to other articles on the same topic. I've mentioned Thomas before; I don't always agree with him, but he's principled and passionate and smart. He blogs at the Yes Means Yes blog, and the series is being published post-by-post even as I write this. The first post in the series is available at this link: http://vesmeansyesblog. wordpress.com/2012/03/23/theres-a-war-on-part-1-troubles- HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018553

been-brewing/ KOK ok The Alt Sex Anti-Abuse Dream Team BDSMers face a lot of stigma around our sexuality, and this can be a major problem when BDSMers are trying to deal with abusive situations. I've written a lot about generally negative conceptions of BDSM -- they can briefly be summarized as: * S&M is wicked, * abnormal, * a sign of mental or emotional instability, * inherently abusive, * or even antifeminist. Given this climate, it's not surprising that two things almost always happen when BDSM and abuse come up: 1) People of all genders who are abused are often unwilling to report. People of all genders who are abused within BDSM relationships tend to be particularly unwilling to report. Victim-blaming is already rampant in mainstream society -- just imagine what happens to, for example, a woman who has admitted that she enjoys being consensually slapped across the face, if she attempts to report being raped. And that's assuming the abuse survivor is willing to report in the first place; ze may prefer not to negotiate the minefield of anti-SM stereotypes ze will be up against, ze may be afraid of being outed, etc. 2) Members of the BDSM community sometimes push back against real or perceived anti-SM stigma by talking about how abuse is rare within the BDSM community. A BDSM blog post and comments over at the awesome blog SM-Feminist claim that not only is abuse within the community rare, but abusive BDSM relationships seem more likely to happen outside the community. In fact, if you look then you can find posts from submissive women who found that getting into the BDSM community, being exposed to its ideals and concepts, helped them escape or understand their past abusive relationships. I tend to think that #2 is a really good point -- particularly the bit about how abusive BDSM relationships are more likely to happen outside the community, due in part to lack of resources and support for survivors. For this reason, I tend to stress the role of the community in positive BDSM experiences, and I encourage newcomers to seek out their local community. But lots of people don't have access to a local community at all, especially if they're not in a big city. Plus, lots of people have trouble enjoying their local community for whatever reason, perhaps because they have nothing in common with local S&Mers aside from sexuality, or because they don't have time to integrate into a whole new subculture. There's also the unfortunate fact that point #2 sometimes reacts with point #1 in a toxic HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018554

way -- that is, it can ironically be harder for abuse survivors to talk about abuse within the BDSM community because the community is pushing back so hard against the stereotype of abusive BDSM. I've spoken to BDSMers who feel that the S&M community pushes back far too hard, and that survivors are being aggressively silenced simply because the rest of us are so invested in fighting mainstream stereotypes. I have never personally experienced this, but I would not be surprised if I did. And the fact is that I'm sure there are toxic dynamics in some BDSM communities -- we aren't a monolith, folks -- and that even in 100% awesome communities, I'm sure there are at least a few abusive relationships. And even one abusive relationship in the community is obviously too many. As Thomas MacAulay Millar wrote when the most recent abusive BDSM case hit the media, "Our declaration that the abusers are not us has to be substantive." This is something we should be taking action on. But how? te ok ok Dynamics Within the Community I have personally had excellent experiences within the S&M community. However, I am also pretty thick-skinned (unfortunately, this is partly due to lots of time spent working in a sexist industry); and I have a well-developed sense of my own boundaries. I am saying this not to sound self-congratulatory but because I believe that, due to being thick- skinned, I may be less bothered by actual harassment and pressuring dynamics than others are. Also, I am lucky enough that I've never experienced an assault. Therefore, it's incumbent upon me to listen to how other S&Mers -- especially female or genderqueer S&Mers -- feel about their experiences being pressured within the community. There are issues that even I have noticed. For example, I think that there is a distasteful tendency to talk about "real BDSM" or "serious BDSM,” as if some S&M is more legitimate than other S&M. That's wrong and dangerous because it can make some people feel as though they have to push past their boundaries -- do things they aren't comfortable with -- in order to be accepted, liked, or seen as "real." On the rare occasions that I encounter this, I try to point out the problems right there and then. There is no such thing as "more real" and "less real" S&M. The only truly important part about any S&M activity is that it happen among enthusiastic, consenting adults. Thomas once wrote to me by email that "I tend to think that the dynamics of abuse in the community are a combination of the desire to avoid washing our laundry in public, patriarchy colonizing our own, and the usual thing in small communities where people's willingness to do the right thing in theory bumps up against their personal friends and loyalties.” I completely agree. I'd add that similar issues arise in almost all small communities, and it's not fair to blame S&M in itself for these problems. At the same time, though, it's incumbent upon all BDSMers to contribute to an environment where people who don't want to participate can easily say "no", and can rely on being supported by others when they do. te ok ok Existing Anti-Abuse Initiatives in the BDSM Community HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018555

Finding existing initiatives is a bit of a piecemeal project, but here's what I've run across. * A variety of pamphlets and written statements. One example was released by The Network/La Red, a rather unique anti-abuse organization for lesbians, bi women and trans people. One panel of the pamphlet shows a picture of handcuffs, and the text says: The most basic difference between S/M and abuse is Consent. It is not consent if... * You did not expressly give consent. * You are afraid to say no. * You say yes to avoid conflict. * You say yes to avoid consequences (i.e. losing a job, losing your home, being outed). S/M is... * Always consensual. * Done with respect for limits. * Enjoyed by all partners. * Fun, erotic, and loving. * Done with an understanding of trust. * Never done with the intent to harm or damage. Just because you consent to play does not mean you consent to everything. You have the right to set limits. (You can look at images of the pamphlet on my Flickr account.) Some SM organizations have also released statements on SM and abuse, such as the national Leather Leadership Conference and New York's Lesbian Sex Mafia. Note that at the bottom of the LSM page, they mention that they've sensitized a local abuse hotline; if I ever get a grant or something to start a pro-sex anti-abuse center, I'll immediately grill the LSM to see how they got in with that hotline and what they said. * Kink Aware counselors. | talk about this all the time, but I think it bears repeating as often as possible. The National Coalition for Sexual Freedom maintains an online list of Kink Aware Professionals, which is a grassroots effort begun by writer/activist Race Bannon and includes doctors, lawyers, and therapists. The list is pretty much open and opt-in -- professionals go to the KAP site and offer to list themselves there -- and this is one reason it's not a good idea to assume that any given professional will be a great fit for you. Personally, when I was coming into my BDSM identity, I found a Kink Aware therapist to be incredibly helpful -- but while I was finding him, I visited another therapist who was not at all helpful. When people ask me for kink-friendly survivors’ resources, I always tell them to seek a HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018556

KAP therapist first. * The annual Alternative Sexualities conference. This is a comparatively new effort from the Community-Academic Consortium for Research on Alternative Sexualities. They describe it as "a conference for clinicians and researchers, addressing issues around BDSM/Kink sexualities and consensual non-monogamies." 2012 will mark the fifth Conference on Alternative Sexualities. I was on a panel at the 2009 conference in Chicago, and I thought it was pretty awesome, but I am obviously biased. * Community workshops. Most BDSM communities in large cities have educational workshops. These teach SM-related ideas or skills such as community etiquette, how to use various types of equipment, etc. Every SM workshop I have ever attended has emphasized careful negotiation and has, at the very least, mentioned safewords. One workshop -- "The Emotional Aspects of BDSM Play," taught by San Francisco's EduKink -- gave a detailed list of ideas for how to tell BDSM from abuse, which I wrote down: 1) Consent. BDSM is consenting; abuse is not. a) Assuming consent was given -- was it informed consent? Did everyone know what they were consenting to? b) Was consent coerced or seduced from the partner? Did everyone feel like they could say no if they wanted? Was anyone worried about suffering negative consequences if they said no? 2) Intent. A BDSM partner intends to have a mutually enjoyable encounter; an abusive partner does not. a) Did everyone leave the scene feeling somewhat satisfied? 3) Damage. A BDSM partner tries to minimize the actual damage inflicted by their actions; an abusive partner does not. a) Did the two partners learn what they were doing before they did it? Did they learn how to perform their activities safely? b) Were the partners aware of the potential risks of their activities? 4) Secrecy. Abuse often happens in secret. This is the hardest one on this checklist, because -- due to the fact that BDSM is a very marginalized, misunderstood sexuality -- BDSM often happens in secret, too. But this is one of the benefits of having an entire subculture that deals with BDSM: we try to look out for each other. a) Were the two partners involved in the local BDSM scene? Did they get advice from knowledgeable, understanding BDSM people during rough patches in their relationship? I've heard of one or two workshops specifically focused on "BDSM for Survivors." I've also heard of support groups for BDSM-identified survivors of abuse, but I've never run across one in person. I've said this before, but I'll say it again: I believe that the safest place to have a BDSM relationship is within the BDSM community. HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018557

te OK ok My Fantasy Sex-Positive, Anti-Abuse Program You can tell from the above list that relevant community efforts have focused on raising internal awareness, consolidating useful information, and educating. If I were to get a grant or something (ha!), I would certainly look for ways to use it on a dedicated pro-sex, anti-abuse initiative, hopefully more expansive than a hotline, and considerably more extensive than a pamphlet. I've never developed this thought too extensively -- I hate to torture myself when I know there's no money for one of my ideas -- but I know I'd want my Dream Anti-Abuse Team to have the following qualities: * BDSM is obviously my main interest, because that's how I identify the core of my sexuality. But I have a strong interest in destigmatizing all forms of sexual expression practiced by consenting adults. Everyone involved in my initiative would emphasize that people of all genders and sexualities could come for help -- whether straight, gay, lesbian, bi, trans, asexual, BDSM, sex worker, polyamorous, swing, or whatever amazing fetish could conceivably come up. Ideally, I would personally try to shock the hell out of anyone before I agreed to work with them... because anyone whose face twists up or who gasps at the idea of any kind of consensual weird sex is a person who shouldn't be anywhere near altsexual abuse survivors. * I'd want destigmatizing alternative sexuality among the mainstream, especially mainstream anti-abuse organizations, to be a major focus -- so that abuse survivors could feel less anxious about being misunderstood while seeking help. So I'd need people who were willing to go out and charismatically shock the abuse officers at police stations, feminist organizations, college campuses, etc. I'd want us to be running everything from anti-stigma poster campaigns to sex communication workshops. * I'd want the program to be well-advertised to the general public, so that people who aren't in the community -- yet who are practicing S&M _ or poly or whatever on their own -- could still find us. * Of course we'd also do the more traditional work of offering walk-in counseling to abuse survivors, including help making a concrete plan, altsexual-friendly legal advice, and so on. So. Anyone willing to fund my Dream Team? te Kk ok This can be found on the Internet at: http://clarissethorn.com/blog/2011/01/16/the-alt-sex-anti-abuse-dream-team/ HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018558

te OK ok Section 1 Study Guide A regular reader who goes by SnowdropExplodes suggested that I add "study guides” to the end of each section of this book in order to pull it together, and I thought it was a good idea. (See why I love my readers?) I'm sure that others could find this insufferably patronizing, however; if you're one of them, feel free not to read the guides! I'm just trying to offer questions for further thought, and give some insight on why I organized this book the way I did. This section was intended to pull together the ideas I see as "basic" or "building blocks" for feminist sex, both in theory and in practice. KOK ok 1. Have any of these pieces felt relevant to how you communicate with your partners? Have any pieces felt irrelevant or incomprehensible? Can you see any overarching themes that guide which ones felt relevant, and which ones felt incomprehensible? la. If you could give your partners one piece of advice about communicating with you, what would it be? 1b. Are there areas of communication that you feel you need to work on? (For example, Clarisse often thinks that she should work on her non-verbal communication, and has occasionally had trouble being direct with her partners about what she wants.) lc. What ideas about sex and communication do you think you've absorbed from friends, parents, and your larger cultural environment? KK Ok 2. What stereotypes do you see acting on your sexuality? 2a. Have you come up with any mental tactics for thinking around those stereotypes? What are they? (For example, Clarisse sees the "S&M superpowers" concept as a positive way of framing S&M, so it doesn't feel "broken" or "dark.") te ok ok 3. Are there any areas of your sexuality where you feel trapped or stalled? Can you think of ways that you want to move forward on those, or do you think it might be a good idea to take some time off from those activities instead? te Kk ok 4. If you were feeling anxious about a relationship or uncertain about your boundaries, who would you turn to in order to talk about that? Do you have friends (online or offline) or other resources where you could find advice? 4a. Are there unique problems affecting abusive relationships within the communities you frequent? How do sexual stereotypes affect how you and your friends perceive both positive relationships and abusive relationships? te Ok ok HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018559

5. What are the overarching patterns that you see within the pieces in this section? How are these disparate topics relevant to each other? Sa. Is consent complicated? SECTION 2: Activism and Allies In which we explore activism and other topics tangentially related to S&M feminism -- from sex work, to polyamory and monogamy, to the nature of masculinity. KOK ok When I think of this section, I think of: Abuse of power comes as no surprise. ~ Jenny Holzer I think of Clarisse as the John Stuart Mills of sexuality. ~ one of my ex-boyfriends TK OK ok ACTIVISM: [theory] Grassroots Organizing For Feminism, S&M, HIV, and Everything Else I wrote this in March 2011 for Bitch Magazine's Feminist Coming-Out Day Blog_ Carnival. The goal was to talk about feminist "click" moments, and my entry was predictably wide-ranging and idiosyncratic. KK Ok Grassroots Organizing For Feminism, S&M, HIV, and Everything Else Earlier this month, my sex-positive documentary film series screened Jane: An Abortion Service. The film tells the extraordinary story of "Jane," an underground network of women in Chicago who provided thousands of safe abortions in the years before abortion was legal. It was totally inspiring. Jane was started accidentally by a woman named Heather Booth. Booth was a student at the University of Chicago in the late 1960s when another woman came and asked her -- HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018560

secretly, of course -- whether she knew any abortion doctors. Heather Booth found one, and she also found that other women started coming to her for references. As one woman in the film put it, in those days, women who sought abortions were all "hysterical and desperate and scared": if you needed an abortion, you knew you would have to come up with some fabulous amount of money and take a life-threatening risk. Some women committed suicide when they got pregnant instead. Information about abortion was at a premium. So Heather Booth began looking for abortion doctors, and better than that, she started vetting them. After finding the doctors, she sought testimonials about those doctors. Common problems with abortion doctors ranged from being rude to actually assaulting their patients; some doctors, who already charged sky-high prices, would demand more money at the last minute. Booth kept a list of abortion doctors who didn't do those things. Pretty soon, there were other women who had her list too, and they were vetting doctors and spreading the word as well. The group also provided counseling before and after the procedure, letting the patients know what they could expect -- physically and emotionally. They called themselves "Jane": a woman who called them and asked for "Jane" was seeking an abortion. After some time, the women of Jane figured out that abortion isn't a complex procedure, and they convinced a doctor to teach them how to do it safely. And then they taught each other. So then they didn't have to refer patients to doctors: they did all the abortions themselves, and they did them for whatever the patient could spare rather than charging prices that were out of reach for many women. Jane members continued to provide emotional support, as well: in the documentary, one member reminisces about how she would have patients over to dinner with her kids and talk to them for a while before performing the procedure. It got to the point where doctors and medical students sent women to Jane, rather than getting referrals from Jane. That is positive activism. That is building the world we want to see. When abortion was legalized in 1973, the group quietly disbanded. Some members of Jane went on to be involved in other parts of the feminist movement or to found respected women's health organizations. It's not that Jane had no problems; the organization was not transparent, for example, and it sounds like there was a fair amount of gossip and internal difficulties. These are typical issues within small groups, and the stigma and anxiety of what they were doing can't possibly have helped, but still, it's important to work against those problematic patterns from the beginning. It's worth it, I think; I'm increasingly convinced that the most positive direct change can be traced to small, grassroots, community groups. Which means that making sure your small, grassroots community group is egalitarian but well- organized can have ripple effects all down the line. Another example of such a group might be Chicago's Rape Victim Advocates. RVA was established in 1974 by doctors and nurses who were appalled by how badly rape survivors were treated in the emergency room. Back then, there was no public understanding of how traumatic rape could be, and little understanding of survivors’ HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018561

experience, even from police and doctors. (An older female friend of mine who was raped in 1970 once told me that she tried to talk to a psychiatrist about what happened. He sighed and said, "Really, do you think that's important?") Rape Victim Advocates has always been a network of volunteers who are on-call to come and talk to rape survivors, but since 1974, it has also developed from a fragile activist group into one with funding and political presence. And on a somewhat different note, S&M community organizing is really quite good. A lot of people don't realize that most S&M community dungeons (unlike the professional dungeons run by sex workers) are nonprofit organizations, kind of like community centers. (No, seriously.) People don't just go to community dungeons to do S&M -- they also go to community dungeons for discussion groups or educational workshops, to learn how to perform certain activities safely. Much like Jane, the S&M community has also created a network of necessary references: the Kink Aware Professionals list. If you've read my work before, you've probably read about this list, because it had a huge impact on my life and I like to spread the word. S&M activists in San Francisco realized, years ago, that there was a need for lawyers and doctors who understood their lives and wouldn't stigmatize their choices, so they wrote three names on a piece of paper and passed it around. Now, the Kink Aware Professionals list is an international online directory hosted by the nonprofit National Coalition for Sexual Freedom. Again, it's not like there are no problems in the S&M community; people gossip, people backstab, people fuck up. There's little vetting process for educators or for people who list themselves on Kink Aware Professionals, and a lot of people run kink classes at least as much from a desire for status as from a desire to educate. But still, I think the S&M community is engaging in positive activism... more than a lot of us even realize. This was a lesson that really hit home for me when I spent a year in Africa working on HIV mitigation. One of the reasons international aid is so complicated is that figuring out how to help a community that's not yours is incredibly hard. A lot of well-meaning Americans (including myself) go abroad with little understanding of how hard it is. The reality is that assisting with, for example, public health in a foreign place entails learning the social fabric of that country in a way that outsiders can only do with tons of sustained effort... and we're still unlikely to be as good as someone who grew up there. One of the reasons -- maybe the biggest reason -- I left was that it was so obvious to me that I was a better activist in the USA... even when I wasn't trying to do activism. (When I was there, I received one letter from an American girl asking for advice on how to do African activism. My advice to her can be summarized as, "It's harder than you think, and you might consider staying home where you're awesomer.") When HIV began destroying the gay community, the most effective and important measures to curb it came from people like Richard Berkowitz, the actual gay activist who wrote a safer sex pamphlet on his home typewriter and then distributed it by hand. They saw a need and they did something about it. Just like Jane. Just like S&M educators. You are probably already part of more communities than you might realize. If you go to a university, you're part of that community. Whether you live in a city neighborhood or a HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018562

small town, you're part of that community. If you go to particular clubs, you're in those communities. There may be aspects of your identity that could align with a community as well: for example, if you read science fiction there are conventions for that (although of course, identity communities don't always work for everyone with that identity). These are places where your knowledge already makes you powerful... so keep an eye out for needs. (It's also worth considering getting involved in an intentional community. I'm kind of psycho about housing co-ops, for example, because they are awesome. I personally am a member of North American Students of Cooperation, but there are other groups, and there are also independent co-ops that aren't part of larger networks.) We live in an unstable and fast-paced age. I don't know how people in most other countries feel, but I know that here in the USA, there is a quite pervasive and quite justified anxiety among everyone I know in the middle class. Many of our safety nets are evaporating, and it's not at all clear that they will be replaced. But no matter how much the people in power fuck us over, we'll never be totally screwed as long as we're not isolated and we talk to each other. One of the former members of Jane, a white-haired feminist with such powerful energy that she practically glows through the screen, says in the documentary: "Don't stay with people who tell you you're crazy and useless. Don't stay where you're weak." That's what I call an activist click moment: find the other people like you, and organize with them. That applies to feminism, it applies to sexuality, it applies to public health. Go where you're strong and make your people stronger. TK OK ok This can be found on the Internet at: http://clarissethorn.com/blog/2011/03/29/grassroots-organizing-for-feminism-sm-hiv- and-everything-else/ The film Jane: An Abortion Service is available from the distributor Women Make Movies: http://www.wmm.com/filmcatalog/pages/c410.shtml ACTIVISM: [storytime] Interview with Richard Berkowitz, Star of Sex Positive and Icon of Safer Sex Activism Richard Berkowitz is an interesting guy. He was active in the gay community in the 1970s and 80s as an S&M sex worker, so he's got plenty of experience with all kinds of sexual history. Not only that, but he also wrote the very first safer sex pamphlet ever, when HIV began storming through the gay community. The pamphlet was called "How to Have Sex in an Epidemic"; Berkowitz literally wrote it at home on his typewriter and HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018563

then distributed copies by hand. Then he was slammed by his own community for doing so... well, read on and learn more about what happened next. I was honored to interview Berkowitz in early 2009. I really love it when I get the chance to talk to boundary-breaking activists who were around before I was born, especially if their domain is sexuality. I feel a combination of both exhilaration and despair during these discussions -- exhilaration because I learn how far we've come, and despair because I can see how we keep making the same mistakes again and again and again. te Ok ok Interview with Richard Berkowitz, Star of Sex Positive and Icon of Safer Sex Activism Our second film at my awesome sex-positive film series was Sex Positive, a fascinating documentary about the history of safer sex. I'll be honest: I was psyched about Sex Positive from day one, long before I'd even seen it. It was the first film I chose for my film list. In fact, the whole idea for the film series came out of a conversation I had with Lisa (our lovely Hull-House Museum education coordinator) in which I said that I wanted to see Sex Positive, and then added, "There are so many sexuality movies I want to see. You and I should have a regular movie night!" She looked at me and said thoughtfully, "You know, I bet people besides us would come to that..." Sex Positive tells the story of Richard Berkowitz -- and how he was one of the first to spread the word about safer sex in America. Berkowitz, a talented writer, started out as a hot-blooded participant in the promiscuous gay bathhouse culture; later, he became an S&M hustler (i.¢., a sex worker). When AIDS started decimating the gay community, Berkowitz was instrumental in teaching his community (and the world) about safer sex. As it became clear to some medical professionals that sexual promiscuity spread AIDS, Berkowitz tried to tell the world about their findings. But there was a huge backlash against him -- because in those days, the promiscuous bathhouse culture was seen by many gay men as a huge part of identifying as gay and sex-positive... and anyone who argued against it, or tried to modify it, was therefore cast by many people as sex-negative. After we screened Sex Positive, I reviewed it on my blog, and Richard Berkowitz himself read the review! He left a comment offering feedback, and I was so thrilled and honored to hear from him that I emailed him right away. We talked a little bit, and met in person last time I was in New York City -- and I practically begged him to let me interview him by email. Here's the results: a discussion of Richard's history with S&M; what he thinks about advocacy; his feelings about the gay community and its history; and where he finds himself in his life right now. Clarisse Thorn: In Sex Positive, you mention that you didn't initially think of yourself as a BDSM type, but that you had partners who convinced you to do it. Do you think you would have gotten into BDSM if you hadn't had partners pressuring you to do it? Do you think you would have gotten into it if you hadn't been able to make money at it? Richard Berkowitz: I was filmed talking in three- to four-hour sessions over the course of a year about difficult, often painful, personal history. At times I felt uncomfortable, I HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018564

made mistakes, so there are moments in Sex Positive that I wish I could clarify -- but it's not my film. That's why I'm thrilled that you're giving me the first opportunity to address the moments that make me cringe when I see the movie -- and what amazed me is that you nailed most of them. Me -- pressured into S&M? Hell, no. I stumbled across BDSM porn in college, and was both appalled and more turned on than I was to any other porn. I pursued a few experiences as a novice when I was in college, and I was completely turned off to the scene for years. The few Tops I met were clumsy, distracted by fetishes that bored me, and I was convinced a bottom could easily get hurt -- so I walked away. When I began hustling in NYC, I was an angry activist and it attracted S&M bottoms that were happy to teach me what I could do with my anger that was erotic and consensual. To that I added what I had learned that Tops did wrong -- and presto! I got really good at it fast -- and I loved it. I was doing two or three scenes a day, but because I could often steer a scene to what turned me on, it felt more like play than work. If I hadn't had been trained as a Top by older, experienced bottoms who were hiring me, I still would have had S&M experiences on my own. But I doubt that I would have gotten as heavily into the scene if it wasn't for hustling. That's where I earned my S&M PhD. In 1979, S&M was considered the fallback scene for aging hustlers -- it was what you turned to when you were losing your youth. There was such a dearth of good Tops. But I had the raw material to be a great Top at 23, and I built quite a reputation on word-of- mouth referrals and repeats. Many of my clients became close friends. CT: Where do you place BDSM in your sexual identity and self-conception? Do you see it as deeply part of you, or something you chose? Do you think of your BDSM urges as coming from a place as deep, as intrinsic, as your gay orientation? RB: I think it's too late for me to answer that question. Turning my libido into an occupation at 23 changed me in both good ways and bad. It would take a book to explain -- so let me just say that as a product of gay male sex in the 70s, there was an element of power intrinsic to the sexuality of the times. That shaped me. I don't see vanilla sex and S&M sex as mutually exclusive because I believe in Tops and bottoms -- and that's the basis of BDSM. "Tops and bottoms" are not exclusive to BDSM; the terms are widely used for assigning roles of power in sex in general. Gore Vidal said, "There is no such thing as gay and straight -- only top and bottom." I believe both are true. But one shouldn't lose sight of the fact that a third of my living space for the past three decades was a sound-proofed dungeon. I think that a culture like ours that's based on competition, as opposed to cooperation, can be extremely sadomasochistic. I think bad S&M can be found in many aspects of our daily life, and good S&M is just eroticizing aspects of being human that can enhance sex immensely for some. CT: What kind of BDSM advocacy have you encountered? What kind of sex work advocacy have you encountered? What did you think of what you saw? Do you have any ideas about how to make those movements effective? Do you have any fears HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018565

about those movements? Would you consider being part of those movements? RB: My only fear about those movements would be if they didn't exist! My neighbor down the hall for the past 25 years built my dungeon and was a co-founder of Gay Male SM Activists, but I always had too much hot sex going on at home to be interested in meetings. Plus, I never stopped feeling like a pariah in the gay community because of the attacks on me and my writing since AIDS began. You reach a point where you just assume people hate you because it's easier than trying to figure out who doesn't. I fiercely support BDSM advocacy, but mainly from a distance. There's a limited number of body blows any activist can take before we just retreat. I had my fill -- but the response to Sex Positive and the new Obama era is nudging me out of my shell. I had a breakup a few years ago that devastated me, so I've been out of the scene for almost three years. Now I'm trying to reinvent myself, find one person I can retreat from the world with. I've never lied about S&M being an intrinsic part of my sexuality, and because of my early bad experiences with BDSM, I'm thrilled and inspired by advocates for it. If there had been BDSM advocacy when I came into BDSM, then I don't think I would have had the bad experiences I mentioned earlier. As a BDSM sex worker, I met so many men who had horrible tales of being hurt in scenes, and I did my best to be an antidote for that. CT: On my blog, you commented that "Of course BDSM was a source of joy in my life but I put it aside when it robs me from having a platform to champion safe sex to the largest possible audience, which BDSM often has." Could you talk more about that? RB: Smear campaigns are hard to pin down, and there's no way to know how much of the contempt against me or my writing was due to my BDSM, my sex work, my safe sex evangelism or simply me. I'm just a dangling pinata for people who have issues with sex! There are gay people of my generation who are as uninformed and rabidly anti-BDSM sex as homophobes are about gay sex. I can't think of anyone who has gone on film with such brutally honest testimony about their radical sexual history as I did in Sex Positive. It felt like a huge risk and you can see my anxiety in the film, but to me, this level of honesty is crucial to pro-sex activism. People are so dishonest about sex; many would never talk publicly about their private sexual behavior -- and they don't want others doing it either, so it's not easy. There was a doctor I saw once when AIDS began who heard I was into S&M. As he went to take blood from me, he stabbed the needle into my arm. I bolted out of the chair screaming, and he said coyly, "Oh, sorry, I thought you liked pain." How can I not feel reticent talking about BDSM considering so many people I've met like that? And then I think, how can I not? I've seen the most courageous pro-sex writers and activists attacked, pilloried and silenced because of their honesty in writing about their kinky sexual histories. I shudder when I recall the vicious smears against pro-sex feminists by anti-porn feminists back in the early 80s. I don't want to invite that bile into my life, especially now, when my circle of gay male friends are no longer alive and here to support me when I go out on a limb with my personal radical sexual issues in public. HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018566

So why did I speak out? Why do I still speak out? Because I owed so much to the army of men who loved and supported me over the years and no longer have a voice, and because gay men were dying. It was no time to be squeamish about sex. It still isn't. CT: Do you have any regrets? -- and, concurrently, what are you most proud of? Did the making of the film Sex Positive bring any regret or pride to the surface for you? RB: I have a few regrets about Sex Positive, but they pale next to what I've gained. I've been to more cities with this movie in one year than I've been to in my entire life. Young people have been extraordinarily supportive and kind, and it helps me to let go of the past. I've been stuck in the past for so long -- it's deadening, but I finally feel that this movie is breaking me free, to finally let go and move on to write about other things. For that, I'm forever indebted to Daryl Wein, the documentary’s director. What I'm most proud of is how much work I did on safe sex that no one even knows about. I'm putting it all on the Internet as a free archive, as soon as I can find or pay someone to help me with the technical stuff. I'm from the age of typewriters. CT: Is there anything you'd like to add? Please feel free to also respond directly to points I made when I talked about Sex Positive on my blog. RB: I loved S&M hustling before AIDS so much -- sometimes, when I talk about it, I become the part of me that tied people up and dominated them; it's like a mental erection. I get lost in the reverie of being an erotic, arrogant Top. I begged director Daryl Wein to delete me saying that clients would tell me that I could do whatever I wanted to them except fuck them, and then I would proceed to do just that. I said that when I was lost in a persona, and it makes me sound like a rapist! The truth is, my most valued expertise as a hustler was teaching men who were afraid of getting fucked how to relax, how to douche, how to open up, how to explore the intense pleasures of receptive anal intercourse and anal orgasm without any pain. I would never rape or violate anyone's consent -- and certainly not customers I wanted to come back! I had tremendous empathy for how difficult it can be to learn how to get anally fucked because I was never able -- or had the desire -- to do it without being high on drugs. (You have to remember how pervasive recreational drug use was during the sexual revolution. There were articles in the gay press saying how cocaine was good for you. We didn't understand addiction then as we do now. And we paid a heavy price for that innocence and ignorance.) When I began hustling in NYC, the lesbian and gay liberation movement was ten years old -- and about that mature. We grew up in such an intensely erotophobic and homophobic culture -- there was no way to escape it, even after we accepted that we were gay. We didn't always treat each other well, and it permeated our sexual expression whether it was vanilla or S&M. You mention in your blog post that you are wary of how I talk about BDSM as arising from "self-loathing" and "insecurity" and negative cultural pressures on the gay community. Yes -- in S&M and in vanilla sex -- I saw how we brought a lot of the culture's contempt to what we did. But, as I say in Sex Positive, many of us came to HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018567

realize this, and we understood that a lot of sexual fantasies are socially constructed by the times that shaped us. Many of us came to realize that sexual fantasies don't diminish us as people -- they can actually help free and enrich us when we understand what we're doing. I'm reluctant to put myself forward as a role model for BDSM and sex work, because of what happened to me after AIDS when I went back to hustling. I was furious that there was no place in the community for me to do safe sex education. I felt so hurt that some people only saw me as a sex worker/sadomasochist and that political differences got in the way of saving sexually active gay men's lives. You can't imagine the rage I felt that it took two entire years after we wrote and published "How to Have Sex in an Epidemic" for NYC to do its first safe sex campaign. I went back to hustling in such despair that I was an addiction waiting to happen, and that's what did. In the end, though, BDSM and my love for it is part of what saved my life. If I weren't so busy hustling with BDSM before AIDS and safe sex, I would have spent much more time at the baths having high risk sex, and died long ago. I think each of us has a limit to how much sex and how many different partners our spirits can bear. Sex can become an addiction, and when you reach that point, people use recreational drugs to keep that level of hypersexual activity going. If I had found a place in safe sex education, my life would have been a much happier, healthier journey. But I never lose sight of how grateful I am to still be here, or how much joy and pleasure sexual freedom gave me until the world I loved started collapsing all around me and taking the men I loved along with it. TK OK ok This can be found on the Internet at: http://clarissethorn.com/blog/2009/03/23/interview-with-richard-berkowitz-star-of-sex- positive-and-icon-of-safer-sex-activism/ Check out Richard Berkowitz's web site to read more about him and investigate his book (which I admit I have not read), Stayin' Alive: The Invention of Safe Sex: http://richardberkowitz.com/ And seriously, if you get the chance, watch Daryl Wein's awesome documentary Sex Positive: http://www.sexpositive-themovie.com/ ABUSE: [theory] Social Responsibility Within Activism I wrote this post in 2010 for Thanksgiving (the original post had a bunch of "thank yous" at the end, which I removed from this version). The questions here seem to be some of the HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018568

biggest recurring questions in my life. Later events have taught me a lot about work that has already been done on accountability within communities. In particular, I want to highlight the book The Revolution Starts At Home: Confronting Intimate Violence Within Activist Communities (edited by Ching-In Chen, Jai Dulani, and Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha), which was published in 2011. But there's a lot of other work out there on how to deal with a perpetrator of violence without resorting to our corrupt and violent established prison svstem. People of color Should be credited for much of this work, because communities of color are rarely well- served by the criminal justice system, and thus have particular incentives to seek alternatives. Sometimes, this field is called "transformative justice" or "restorative justice." Here is a post that links to a number of resources on transformative justice: http://clarissethorn.com/blog/2012/01/30/some-transformative-justice-links/ te Ok ok Social Responsibility Within Activism Tonight I had Thanksgiving dinner with my mother and her boyfriend. Some friends of my mother attended, one of whom is a lesbian who I'll call Kay. Kay attended dinner with her mother, who is unaware of Kay's sexual orientation. One of the reasons Kay's mom doesn't know about Kay's sexual orientation is that Kay's mom has already behaved quite badly towards Kay's elder sister, who is an out-of-the-closet lesbian. I knew this whole situation going in, and one thing that struck me was how much of a nice person Kay's mom is. I mean... she's really nice. I mean, she clearly tries to be a good person. She also tried really hard to help me do the dishes. (I didn't let her because I wanted them all to myself.) I've been thinking a lot lately about how to engage with people who have done bad things, or who are currently doing things I think are bad (like shaming their lesbian daughters). It wouldn't have been right to throw my sex-positive ideas on the table while talking to Kay's mom -- mostly because Kay specifically asked me not to, ahead of time. But. The most powerful tool for getting people to reconsider their stigma against alternative sexuality is personal engagement. Don't I have some responsibility here? Is there something I can do? Other examples of this are rife. One very intense, very important issue I grappled with this week was having a friend email me to inform me that another friend -- someone I like and admire a lot -- has been credibly accused of sexual assault by a person who will never press charges. This has come up before in my life... every time it's a little different, and yet so many things are the same: a person is assaulted, the news gets out among friends, the survivor doesn't press charges, there is confusion among the friends about how to act, eventually things die down, and I feel as though I should have done more. When I was in high school, one of my closest male friends raped a female acquaintance of mine. She didn't press charges and they later had a romance that was, to all appearances, consensual. I pieced events together slowly -- he did acknowledge what he'd done, though never directly to me. I didn't know what to do, at the time, and I still feel as though I should have done so much more. He and I were so close. I never had the nerve HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018569

to directly talk to him about what happened, because -- even though we never talked directly about it -- I saw evidence that he felt terrible about it, and I was sure that I could devastate him by talking about it more. But still... I should have talked to him. I also feel as though I should have supported her more, but I don't know what I could have said. There were people who told her that she shouldn't be having a consensual relationship with her rapist. It seemed wrong to tell her that -- I felt like it eroded her agency, attacked her right to choose -- so I didn't say it. If I had said it, though, would that have been helpful to her? What could I have done to be a better resource for her? Especially given that I was such close friends with him? I was young(er), but that's no excuse. Then again, what am I excusing? I did nothing. But I should have done more. Now, again, I have a friend, a good friend, who assaulted someone. It's a friend in the local S&M community. I don't know the survivor at all. I have to talk to my friend about it, but what do I say, and what happens next? Feminism instructs us that we should listen to the voices of survivors, that community mores and community condemnation are what stops rape from happening. I believe these things to be true; and there are people close to me who have survived rape, and I really want to make sure I'm doing everything I can to ensure that rape stops happening. But I intensely wish that I had more guidance on what exactly to say, how exactly to act, to change the mores. I emailed my ex-boyfriend Mr. Chastity for advice, because he's got one of the finest ethical minds I've ever been lucky enough to engage with. Here's part of what he wrote back: I've tried to distill your messages into a few questions, and I ended up with "How does one parse a situation in which a friend, and an otherwise noble person, seems to have done serious wrong?” and "What are a person's moral obligations in this case?" Nobody is composed of unmixed goodness or evil, no matter how much of a paragon/fiend I) they seem to be or 2) their principles require. People we respect and love are not forces of nature or avatars of their cause of choice, no matter how thoroughly they embody it to us. I don't say this because I think you haven't considered it, but because I know I've had a lot of trouble absorbing it over the years and think it might therefore bear restating to others, too. As an individual, a person has a relatively large degree of freedom in action and association. I think where this case becomes truly difficult to consider is when we bring in justice and the community. Because the means of enforcement of the rules of these communities is so interpersonal, one's interpersonal actions take on an unusual role of community-level justice as well as merely justice between two people. I can't see how it could ever be good to allow things like this to just slide. Honestly, I'm not sure what else you can do but (as you suggest in one of your messages) politely ask your friend about their take on the story. If nothing else, it will demonstrate that people are paying attention to this thing and might give you some insight into their character and opinions of the issue. He's right. I agree. But. What now? How do I ask, what do I say? How can I tell if my HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018570

friend has dealt with whatever healing has to take place in order for such assaults not to happen again? te Ok ok This can be found on the Internet at: http://clarissethorn.com/blog/2010/1 1/26/social-responsibility-activism-and-giving- thanks/ It is really worth reading about work that's already been done on transformative justice: http://clarissethorn.com/blog/2012/01/30/some-transformative-justice-links/ BOUNDARIES: [storytime] Taking Care Of Each Other This was originally published in 2012 at the girl-power site OffOurChests.com. te Kk ok Taking Care Of Each Other As a sex educator, I think a lot about how to teach boundaries. I try to come up with exercises, stories, maxims that could help people respect their own bodies, minds, and desires; and of course I also think about how to encourage people to respect others’ boundaries. But the biggest influences on a person's boundaries have nothing to do with what I teach. Good boundaries are (hopefully) demonstrated by parents, influenced by friends, and encouraged by partners. Within a community, though, I also think it's really important not to tell people what to do. I believe that it's crucial to be a good resource for the people close to us, without trying to force them to do what we think is best. That way, we can both build trust and foster independence. On the other hand, sometimes it's hard to know how to do that when I know more about a certain subject than someone else. It is so powerfully tempting to tell them what I think they should do! I was thinking about this recently when, out of the blue, I remembered something that happened when I was 16 or 17. I'd just had a nasty breakup, I was really unhappy about my ex, and I was trying marijuana. I had never smoked before. There were a bunch of other people my age present -- including a guy who'd been flirting with me for a while. When he passed me the marijuana, he kissed me. I kissed back. I wasn't attracted to him, but I felt so empty and hurt, and I guess it was reassuring that someone wanted me, despite the fact that my ex-boyfriend didn't. Also around was a girl who I'll call Lena. I had always seen Lena as tough and no- HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018571

nonsense, but I didn't know much else about her. I think she probably considered me a bit naive. Anyway, Lena watched the situation and my body language; she knew that it was my first time smoking. A few minutes later, she took me aside. I don't remember the exact conversation, but I seem to recall that it went something like this: "Clarisse,” Lena said, "how are you feeling?” "I'm not sure," I said. Truth be told, I felt a bit numb. Lena looked directly into my face. "How far do you want to go tonight?" she asked. I looked away. I felt embarrassed because she seemed so composed. I felt like an airhead compared to her. We were standing next to a wooden wall, and I pretended to study the wood-grain. "I don't know," I said vaguely. "If you can tell me how far you want to go tonight," Lena said firmly, "then I'll make sure nothing goes past that. Do you want to keep making out? Do you want to do more than make out?" I traced a knot in the wood with my finger. "Making out," I decided. "Okay," Lena said, and nodded. I don't remember if she said anything else, but as she took me back to the group I still felt a little embarrassed -- and also incredibly relieved. I wonder if I ever thanked Lena? I should have; maybe I'll try to find her on Facebook or something. Because I really did feel a lot safer that night, knowing that Lena was looking out for me. I made out with that gentleman a little bit more, but after a while I put a stop to it, and nothing else happened. Maybe if Lena hadn't been there, I still would have had the wherewithal to stop making out with him; or maybe I would have felt so confused, anxious, numb that I let it go further. (And I can tell you for sure that I'm glad it didn't go further.) Or, God forbid, maybe if she hadn't been there then I would have been actively pressured into something that I actively objected to. Before that, it had never occurred to me to set a clear boundary before I hooked up with a guy. That's an important lesson in itself! Even more importantly, though, Lena didn't tell me what to do. She didn't say anything about how I should be sexual, or who I should do it with. She didn't shame me for what was up. She just asked me what I wanted, and then she offered me her support. Certainly, Lena is just one small piece in the puzzle of my life. But I still remember her, and I admire and thank her. My parents have offered me a lot of support throughout my life, both in my relationships and otherwise. I've had partners who helped show me what it means to create a low-pressure sexual environment, or who helped me learn clear sexual communication. Still, Lena stands out in my mind -- someone I barely knew, yet someone who helped show me what it means to be among women who stand up for each other and help preserve each other's boundaries. te OK ok This can be found on the Internet at: HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018572

http://offourchests.com/taking-care-of-each-other/ MANLINESS: [theory] Questions I Want To Ask Entitled Cis Het Men I wrote this piece in 2009. It was the culmination of years I'd spent thinking about masculinity, manliness, and men's gender role. I was relatively new to blogging, and I hadn't yet established myself. I thought that the most controversial things I would ever write would be about S&M. I was wrong. I published this in three parts, and it got a huge response. The major feminist blog Alas! A Blog asked to repost it, for example, but there was a much bigger reaction among non- feminist and anti-feminist men. Some wrote responses with titles like "Answers for an Entitled Feminist.” Others actually came over to my blog and engaged me, with varying results. It kicked off a long, dense discussion in my blog Comments section, which lasted for over a year and thousands of comments. I wrote a number of followups, including some that got me labeled "brainwashed by the patriarchy" by other feminist women. Some of the guys I was talking to got me interested in the "pickup artist subculture" or "seduction community" -- a group of men who trade tips, tricks, and tactics on how to seduce women. Eventually, I did an in-depth investigation of that subculture and wrote the book Confessions of a Pickup Artist Chaser: Long Interviews with Hideous Men, which contains some of my best work on masculinity, communication, and sexuality. You can buy that on Smashwords at this link: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/14445 1 One thing I've discovered over the last few years, as I learned more about the history of feminism, is that there are excellent reasons why most feminists are unwilling to talk about men's problems. There's a ton of politics involved, and a lot of very justified fears about the political ground we could lose. We still have a long way to go when it comes to gender equality. But I do believe that those fears are often overblown. And I've also discovered that there's a subgroup of feminists that's much more likely to be open to talking about men's experience: it's the sex-positive feminists, especially the S&M feminists. To be sure, there are exceptions. Plenty of S&M feminists see no reason to discuss men's experience, and of course, plenty of S&M feminists don't like my writing in particular. But most feminist essays I've found about masculinity were written by women who openly admitted that they were into S&M -- Gayle Rubin, author of the pioneering sexuality essay "Thinking Sex," is one good example. Maybe the S&M feminists are the ones most likely to intuitively understand that power is never a one- dimensional picture or a one-way street. HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018573

Questions I Want To Ask Entitled Cis Het Men, Part 1: Who Cares? Why do I care about masculinity? I'm rather perverted, but not enormously queer. I present as femme, and -- although I've been known to tease my sensitive (frequently long-haired) lovers for being "unmasculine" -- I fall in love with men. I'm hardly one to go for the "manly man" type, but at heart, I love knowing that I'm fucking a man. However, because I'm cisgendered and straight, I feel profoundly at a loss when trying to articulate problems of (for lack of a better phrase) "Men's Empowerment." The issues don't feel "native" to me; I've intersected with these questions mainly through the lens of lovers and friends. Watching their struggle is demoralizing, but trying to imagine how I can give them feedback is more demoralizing. A male friend once wrote to me, "I think you personally find expressions of masculinity hot, but you also have no patience with sexism. You've caught on that it's tricky for men to figure out how to deliver both of these things you need, that you don't have a lot of good direction to give to fellas about it, and that neither does anyone else." So: How can men be supportive and non-oppressive while remaining overtly masculine? On top of my limited perspective, there's been an echoing lack of discourse -- that is, very little mainstream acknowledgement of the problems of masculinity. The primary factor in that silence is that normative cis men themselves tend to be flatly unwilling to discuss gender/sex issues. Often, their first objection is that the discussion is neither important nor relevant. This is true even within subcultures centered around sexual analysis, like the BDSM world -- I once met a cis male BDSMer who said, "Why bother talking about male sexuality? It's the norm. Fish don't have a word for water.” But if masculine sexuality is water and we're fish, why doesn't that motivate us to examine it more -- not less? Don't get me wrong: I agree that America's sexual conceptions are centered around stereotypical male sexuality, and I agree that this is damaging and problematic. Believe me, I'm furious that it took me many years to reconceive "actual" sex around acts other than good ole penis-in-vagina penetration! But if American stereotypes and ideas of sexuality are male-centered, then surely that makes it more useful for us to be thinking about male sexuality -- not less. And those male-centered ideas of sexuality aren't centered around all men -- just stereotypical men. LGBTQ men are obvious examples whose sexuality falls outside the norm; fortunately for them, they've created some spaces to discuss that. But there are lots of other non-normative guys who aren't gay or queer, yet feel very similar sexual alienation -- and because there's so little discourse about masculinity outside LGBTQ circles, they usually just don't talk about it. What does it mean to be a cis het man whose sexuality isn't normative? Which straight cis guys don't fit -- and hence, feel alienated from -- our current overarching sexual HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018574

stereotypes? Guys who identify as straight BDSM submissives are one fabulous example of non- normative men who are frequently alienated from mainstream masculine sexuality, but who often don't have a forum. Men with small penises are a second. There are lots of others. In the words of sex blogger and essayist Thomas Millar: "The common understanding of male sexuality is a stereotype, an ultra-narrow group of desires and activities oriented around PIV [penis-in-vagina], anal intercourse and blowjobs; oriented around cissexual women partners having certain very narrow groups of physical characteristics.” Still, that doesn't mean that straight, dominant, big-dicked dudes who love boning thin chicks feel totally okay about the current state of affairs. It just means they tend to have less immediate motivation to question it. They also have less of an eye for spotting gender oppression, because -- though they've got their own boxes hemming them in -- they're still more privileged than the rest of us, and the nature of privilege is to blind the privileged class to its existence. A male submissive once told me, "Lots of heteronormative men know something is wrong with the way we think about sex and gender. I can see them struggling with it when we talk. They can't put their finger on it; they have a hard time engaging it. But I engage it all the time; I have to, because my sexuality opposes it.” When is it to a man's advantage to examine and question masculinity and stereotypes of male sexuality? Which men are motivated to do so? It's tempting to assert that men whose desires fit neatly (or at least mostly) within the stereotype have it made -- after all, their sexuality works within the norm so many of us struggle to escape. But I've had this assumption corrected several times, usually by smart "stereotypical" men themselves. At one point, while developing a sexuality workshop, I sent the outline to a bunch of friends. The original draft contained this paragraph: "Our sexual scripts favor a certain stereotype of men and male sexual pleasure, which makes it hard for women to figure out what we really want and what we really enjoy, and also makes it harder for non-stereotypical men to figure that out." One friend sent that paragraph back, having quietly appended: "... as well as for stereotypical men to discover or explore new desires beyond the stereotypical script.” When we discuss the limitations around sexuality from a non-normative perspective, how do we exclude normative people who might develop themselves in new directions if they had the chance? What do normative men stand to gain by thinking outside the box about masculinity and sexuality? te ok ok Questions I Want To Ask Entitled Cis Het Men, Part 2: Men's Rights In the 2006 documentary "Boy I Am", a trans man talks about how one of his mental barriers to transitioning was the fact that after transition, he would be a "white male." And, he laughs, the "last thing in the world" he wanted to be was a white male! A year or two ago, I attended a lecture by Jackson Katz, a rather overtly masculine, cis HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018575

male anti-abuse educator who lectures in colleges around the country. Bullet-headed and aggressive in stance, he said a lot of valuable things -- particularly about how men ought to take ownership of problems we traditionally consider "women's issues." It's certainly true that if we want to end male abuse of women, men must participate in the movement. But although Katz discussed some issues of masculinity, I heard little about how we can make things better for men. His proposition of a men's movement was centered around correcting the things some men are doing wrong. Although they're often watered down, many feminist concepts have gone mainstream. For instance, Americans have some consciousness of traditional feminist critiques about how women's bodies are represented in the media. Indeed, that consciousness has become so endemic that, in a grandly ironic twist, marketers now capitalize on it to sell beauty products: the nationwide Dove Campaign for Real Beauty attempts to use deconstruction of the media's representation of women to sell Dove soap. Americans are also quite aware of men as the privileged class -- sometimes regarded outright as the oppressors. But this shift in awareness about gender issues faced by women has not been accompanied by a widespread understanding of gender issues faced by men. And that creates situations like an activist working towards a masculinity movement that talks mainly about how men are hurting women, or a trans man who has trouble with the idea of transitioning partly because he doesn't want to be a white man -- one of the oppressors. How can awareness of oppressive dynamics make it difficult for men to own their masculinity? Does male privilege ever make life harder for men? When does male privilege blind us to oppression of masculinity? There's some mainstream awareness of gender issues faced by women; is there any similar awareness of the problems of masculinity? A good friend of mine first caught my attention by talking about gender. We encountered each other ata BDSM meetup, and when I mentioned that I'd been thinking about the boxes around masculine sexuality, he launched into a rant about oppressive sexual dynamics. He gave me references to complex sexuality blogs and intelligently used words like "heteronormative" and "patriarchy." But a month or so after we started talking, I mentioned his interest in gender issues... and he gave me a puzzled look. "I'm not really into gender studies,” he said. He talks about sex, gender and culture all the time -- but he also specifically identifies as highly masculine, and felt that to be at odds with identifying as someone who questions masculinity. As Thomas Millar writes in his aforementioned article: "There's a huge unstated assumption that to even address the question [of male sexuality], for men, is to mark one's self as ‘other.’ ... cis het men are brought up to fear that their masculinity could ever be called into question. By even opening up a dialog, I think some folks fear that they are conceding that their sexuality is not uncontroversial.” Men currently experience this problem in a way that women do not. In other words, women don't risk being seen as unfeminine as easily as men risk being seen as unmasculine; nor do we have quite the same fears about it. In 2008, a group of researchers published a paper called "Precarious Manhood.” Their concluding statement: HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018576

"Our findings suggest that [so-called] real men experience their gender as a tenuous status that they may at any time lose and about which they readily experience anxiety and threat." Earlier in the paper, they wrote that -- although "our focus on manhood does not deny the importance of women's gender-related struggles" -- "Women who do not live up to cultural standards of femininity may be punished, rejected, or viewed as 'unladylike,' but rarely will their very status as women be questioned in the same way as men's status often is.” When is it to a man's disadvantage to publicly examine and question masculinity? Surely the mere act of questioning and examining gender does not make a man less masculine; how can we work against the perception that it does? At the same time, though, this isn't a "with us or against us” situation: men who don't choose to identify as non-normative also don't tend to join the "opposition." By "opposition" I mean folks like "Men's Rights Activists" (on the Internet we call them MRAs). MRAs -- at least according to my stereotype of them -- are conscious of social and legal disadvantages suffered by men, such as the fact that men are at a severe disadvantage in child custody cases; at the same time, they're blind to male privilege. It's a deadly combination. My personal favorite MRA quotation ever is, "White men are the most discriminated-against group in the country." Mercifully, MRAs are a fringe group, but they make a big impression. My "not into gender studies" friend once told me that although he frequently deconstructs problems of masculinity in the privacy of his own mind, he doesn't like to publicly have those conversations because he doesn't want to sound like an MRA. He said, "A lot of the time, men who want to think seriously about masculinity won't talk about it aloud because we really don't want to be that." He later added, "It's very tricky to discuss masculinity yet avoid simply devolving into male entitlement. That's the crux of the problem with the 'Men's Movement’ assholes -- none of them are addressing the underlying problems of masculinity. They're just whining about not receiving the privileges their cultural conditioning tells them to expect." How do the current "men's rights movements" discourage men who might, in a different climate, be very interested in discussing masculinity? Assuming men can reclaim the "pro-masculinity movement" from MRAs, do any men feel motivated to do so? Can men occupy the middle ground between MRAs and LGBTQ, feminist, or other leftist discussions of gender -- that is, can men find space to discuss masculinity without being aligned with "one side or the other"? All too frequently in radical sex/gender circles, the theme has been blame. Men in particular are excoriated for failing to adequately support feminism -- or criticized for failing to join the fight against oppressive sex and gender norms -- but few ideas are offered for how men can be supportive and non-oppressive while remaining overtly masculine, especially if their sexuality is normative (e.g., straight/dominant/big-dicked). There are fragments: some insight might be drawn from the ways in which many BDSM communities create non-oppressive frameworks within which we have our deliciously oppressive sex. With practice, one can get shockingly good at preserving a heavy dominant/submissive dynamic that still allows both partners to talk about their other HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018577

needs. Surely that understanding of sexual roles vs. other needs could be adapted to the service of gender identity. Yet so many BDSMers still fall prey to the same old gendered preconceptions, and talk nonsense about how "all women are naturally submissive" or whatever. Don't get me wrong: of course anyone would deserve plenty of blame if they refused to let go of their entitlement, or chose not to examine the ways their behavior might support an oppressive system. But I think men exist who are willing to do those things, yet feel blocked from relevant discussions because participating creates anxiety about their sexual or gender identity. It strikes me as unreasonable to attack them for that. Choosing to present one's sexuality and/or gender identity in a normative way is not in itself a sin. It's not fair to expect people to fit themselves into a box that doesn't suit them -- not even for The All-Important Cause of better understanding sex and gender. Where can we find ideas for how men can be both supportive and non-oppressive, and overtly masculine? How can we make it to normative men's advantage to analyze masculine norms? What does it look like to be masculine, but liberated from the strictures of stereotypical masculinity? How can we contribute to a Men's Movement that encompasses all three bases -- being perceived as masculine, acknowledging male privilege, and deconstructing the problems of masculinity? te Kk ok Questions I Want To Ask Entitled Cis Het Men, Part 3: Space for Men I'm about to assert something that makes me nervous, because I worry that people are going to stick me in the "asshole MRA" box. Don't get me wrong: I certainly don't think that women have it better, overall, than men do. But I do wonder whether it might be good for feminists to acknowledge that -- although we don't experience nearly as much privilege as men -- there are a lot of advantages women experience that men don't. Because women aren't seen as threatening, we have an easier time doing confrontational things like approaching strangers on the street. Because women aren't seen as fighters, we stand a lower chance of being mugged than men do. Because women are seen as emotional, we're given a huge amount of social space to consider and discuss our feelings. I can work with and be affectionate with children far more easily than a man could. I can be explicit and overt about my sexuality without being viewed as a creep. And there are at least a few recurring complaints about how trying to be masculine can suck. First and foremost: that men don't feel they've been taught to process their emotions, or don't feel allowed to display them. Another: that they're perceived as less manly if they don't achieve success through a career, especially if they aren't the main breadwinner for their family. A third: that men are expected to be sexually insatiable, or always to be sexually available. Of course, it's worth noting that the advantages women experience are almost always the flip side of unfortunate stereotypes. For instance, one might say that women get more social space for emotion because we're stereotyped as irrational and hysterical. But that doesn't change the fact that most of us easily grasp that space, while most men don't. And if we can reject the Oppression Olympics for just one minute and stop thinking about HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018578

who's got it worse, it becomes clear that the advantages and drawbacks associated with being both male and female are intertwined. The two systems reinforce, and cannot function without, each other. The gender binary may not hurt everyone equally, but it hurts everyone. As those beautiful "Every Girl / Every Boy" posters say, the most obvious example is: "For every girl who is tired of acting weak when she is strong, there is a boy tired of appearing strong when he feels vulnerable.” I do suspect that it may not be psychologically realistic to ask people from our underdog- loving culture to embrace an image of themselves as privileged; my thoughts turn again to the trans man who hated the thought of being a white male. But if we feminists can't work productively from a stance that acknowledges our social advantages, how can we expect straight/dominant/big-dicked men to do it? Could feminist acknowledgment of the women's gender-based advantages help pave the way for more men to acknowledge male privilege? Could feminist acknowledgment of the advantages on both sides of the gender binary help us better grasp what sucks about being a guy? Am I citing Thomas MacAulay Millar too much here? Well, at least once, he frustrated me. Amongst the comments on one blog post, I thought he was stating his views about stereotypical guys rather harshly. I suggested that it might be better to seek common ground, or at least to explain things gently; he said he wasn't interested -- "I think we all work with some people where they are and can't soft-sell our views enough to deal with others." He added, "If I'm going to alienate someone for saying what I think too bluntly, I'll pick entitled cis het dudes." I won't pretend I didn't laugh when I read that -- but I worried about it, too. I've had an enormous number of experiences trying to discuss feminism/sex/gender with men in which the men tensed, bristled, and closed me out. I don't think it was always because those guys couldn't stand the thought of losing their privilege, either. I think a lot of dudes have been led to feel that they have no place in gender discussions -- that those discussions will always be about what men are doing wrong, and that no one's prepared to work with them where they are. All groups have outsiders. Movements inevitably form themselves around oppositional forces. As someone who's spent her share of time feeling feminist rage, I'd say that being filled with feminist rage is totally understandable. And seriously, don't get me wrong: I'm not giving unfeminist guys a free pass. I'm not happy about the fact that so many men are apparently alienated from feminism because us radicals are too confrontational -- or too uncomfortably correct -- for their fragile masculine egos to handle. (I'm being sarcastic! Mostly.) I'm really not happy about the fact that I've got to think about marketing anti- oppression -- in a just universe, wouldn't anti-oppression market itself? But at the same time, I'm a realist. I know this isn't a just universe, and I want to use tactics that'll achieve my goals. Which are: I'd really like to find more men at my side in the sex and gender wars. I'd really like to talk to more guys who don't see ideas stamped with feminism as an attack -- rather, as an opportunity for alliance. Plus, if we're going to think in terms of cold hard tactics, it's worth noting that normative men hold most of the power in America. (That's part of what we're complaining about, right?) So swelling our HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018579

ranks with The Oppressive Class means we can ruthlessly use their power for good. Can we do better at making feminist discourses around gender and sexuality open to normative men, without driving ourselves crazy? How can we make our movement open to, and accepting of, normative men? Put another way, how do we convince normative men to support us? Maybe we don't need a lot of normative men in the camp of sex and gender radicals; maybe we'll be happier without silly Gender Studies 101 questions clotting our discussions. Still, even if we don't try to "recruit" them, I'd love to see more widespread analysis of masculinity and masculine sexuality amongst normative dudes... if only because getting a sense for their societal boxes might simply make them happier. If only because I think they've got their own liberation to strive for. So at the very least, I'd like to contribute to an America where serious examination of masculinity and male sexuality can flourish. That's my final question. How do I do it? TK OK ok The above entries originally appeared at: and part-2-mens-rights/ and http://clarissethorn.com/blog/2009/10/24/questions-i-want-to-ask-entitled-cis-het-men- part-3-space-for-men/ The first followup (plus many many comments) is available at: http://clarissethorn.com/blog/2009/12/09/manliness-and-feminism-the-followup/ EDUCATION: [theory] Sexual ABCs in Africa, Part 1: Abstinence In 2009-2010, I spent a year in sub-Saharan Africa working on HIV mitigation. It was fascinating, frustrating, heartbreaking work. I learned an enormous amount about the possibilities and pitfalls of foreign aid, public health, and global injustice -- far more than I could ever summarize in an introductory paragraph. Maybe someday I'll write HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018580

more about it all, but in the meantime, if my articles leave you with an appetite for more, then I recommend two wrenching books: Letting Them Die: Why HIV/AIDS Prevention Programmes Fail by Catherine Campbell, and The Wisdom of Whores: Bureaucrats, Brothels and the Business of AIDS by Elizabeth Pisani. (Pisani's book in particular gave me so many moments of recognition that I was almost offended. I was like, dammit, Elizabeth Pisani, this is the book I wanted to write!) In early 2010, while I was still in Africa, I began writing a series of articles about my experiences. These articles were published at CarnalNation.com and edited by Chris Hall, who is a smart sex-positive writer in his own right. I'm especially grateful to Chris because, unlike a lot of editors, he made the effort to grasp where I was coming from; he always made requests rather than demands, and never changed my work without consulting me. Good editors are hard to come by, and I hope that when I edit other writers’ work today, I do credit to the model Chris provided. I'm sad to report that CarnalNation ceased publishing new articles in late 2010, although you can still read the archives online (and I encourage you to do so). There are a lot of "sex-positive” websites out there that have little real understanding of sex communities, activism, etc. -- not to mention, there are websites that hire talented and ethical writers, but then hide truly unethical business practices. But from what I could tell, CarnalNation was the real deal. The list of contributors read like a Sex-Positive All- Stars, and I was proud to be part of it. So, anyway. This is the first of a bunch of articles that I originally wrote about sex and culture in southern Africa. Like all my writing, it's framed within my own experience. (I'm not republishing all the Africa articles in this book, but they're all available in my_ CarnalNation archive.) And before we get into it, I would like to note one final thing. One problem with how many Westerners write about Africa is that they treat Africa as “one country": there's little acknowledgment that Africa is a huge, diverse continent full of many different cultures. I try to avoid that, but I also write under a pseudonym, and thus I can't write too precisely about where I was or what I did in Africa. I'm sorry about that, and I hope I don't come off as too much of a colonialist asshole. KK ok Sexual ABCs in Africa, Part 1: Abstinence In the beginning of 2009, I made a name for myself as a sex-positive, pro- BDSM educator in Chicago -- and no one was more surprised than me by how suddenly successful I was! I curated the explosive pro-sex, pro-queer, pro-kink documentary film series Sex+++ at Jane Addams Hull-House Museum. I lectured on both BDSM and sexual communication in Chicago, San Francisco and New York. I even fielded a call from Oprah's office! Then, just as my life was going all crazy, I was offered a job doing HIV/AIDS mitigation in southern Africa. I've wanted to do it for years, so I accepted -- though not without some soul-searching. Rather a change of pace, right? I thought I might even give up basic romance by coming here... but not so fast. Only a month after moving, I met a guy I really liked. He's another American, also here to work on HIV/AIDS; we live a bit far apart, but flirted constantly HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018581

by text message. We discussed etymology, traded literary recommendations, compared religion -- I'm Unitarian, he’s a Baha'i convert. He lived one summer in Chicago, and we discovered that we'd shopped at the same bookstores. One night, we found ourselves in the same nightclub. Using a cigarette as an excuse to go outside, we abandoned the music and talked for hours. Our friends came to check on us multiple times, with varying degrees of smirking insinuation; we kept promising to go back in after one cigarette, then neglecting to actually smoke it. The conversation went through homesickness, ethics, roleplaying games, more literature. I lent him a book. He promised to visit me. His next text message, a few days later, was plainly nervous. Can you imagine someone blurting a text message? That's what he did when he told me that he takes the "no sex before marriage” part of his Baha'i faith seriously. I was stunned -- but I had to laugh, too. Of course Miss Clarisse Thorn, pro-sex advocate, just had to fixate on a man who wouldn't sleep with her! KK ok I did not undergo abstinence-only sex education. My middle school's health teachers were admirably forthright and even hosted condom demonstrations in the auditorium, more power to 'em. I also had the good fortune to be raised Unitarian -- so I received incredibly compassionate, complete sex education in Sunday School. Still, for a long time I was strongly attracted to chastity. In my teens, I decided that I wouldn't lose my virginity until I was much older -- I think I picked age 25 -- because I wanted to be sure I'd be mature enough to handle it. This resolution didn't last, but after I became sexually active, I occasionally came back to the idea. A few female friends took "time off" -- in some cases, full years of abstinence. I considered doing so myself, strongly and for a long time. Back then, I was terrible at communicating about sex. Reading explicit sex scenes made me feel anxious, perhaps because I felt they set standards I couldn't "perform." Talking explicitly to my partners felt impossible, not least because I had practically no idea what I wanted. Worst of all, I could feel the societal boxes around my sexuality, but I couldn't articulate them. Plus, there were dark undercurrents to my sexuality that simply scared me. Abstinence was the only obvious way around my sex-negative cultural baggage! Once I adjusted into my BDSM orientation, once I got a grip on how to circumvent some problems with how Americans tend to think about sex, once I experienced mutual sexual communication that was totally trusting and adventurous... my attraction to chastity was greatly reduced. These days, the idea only seems awesome when (a) I've just been romantically burned, or (b) I want more time to myself. It's tempting to think that Mr. Chastity might be the same way: that he's uncomfortable for similar reasons; that he'll "get over it." Tempting -- and offensively presumptuous. Maybe he'll re-examine his motives someday, and maybe he won't. The important thing is to respect his feelings. So when he sent me that text, I did what any responsible sex- positive girl ought to do: I honored his boundaries and thought seriously about whether I could work within them. HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018582

I wrote back: I think it's adorable that you told me the vow thing by text- & on a serious note, I rather admire you for challenging yourself & social expectations of masculinity. I can't afford exegesis of my sexual history by text; we can talk about it when you visit- which I hope you do, even if you insist on sleeping on the floor. I promise not to push you- though I confess I'm curious about the vow's limits. But I also understand if you don't feel comfortable coming down. His relief, in our next few exchanges, was palpable. I think a man who wants to abstain has a far trickier journey ahead of him than a woman: America's sexual assumptions may be formed around stereotypical male sexuality -- which really sucks for women -- but it's a very narrow stereotype that limits men too. Men are expected to be insatiable, and preferring not to have sex casts a man's entire masculinity into question. His abstinence can cause anxiety for the female partner, too: after all, given an assumption that men are nigh-indiscriminate sex machines, a woman might feel that there's something terribly wrong with her if a man won't bang her. Mr. Chastity has dealt with those problems a lot, so my careful reaction and evident lack of anxiety won me lots of points. Since then, I've met up with him publicly twice, and we've even managed to make out! He's still going to visit. Maybe I can convince him to sleep in bed, as long as I promise not to put the moves on him. And maybe, just maybe, his vow allows him to practice BDSM... a girl can dream, right? But seriously, if we can do BDSM together, then I just might be his dream partner. I'd be happy to focus our sexual time on BDSM and foreplay, and to ignore "actual" sex indefinitely. Plus, some people argue that declining to sate ourselves sexually is the best tactic for prolonging romantic magic. So this could be the way for Mr. Chastity to become the love of my life. TK OK ok In Africa, the mantra for HIV educators is ABC: the three things that protect against HIV/ AIDS are Abstinence, Being faithful, and Condom usage. But my job is much more complicated than passing out condoms and wagging my finger. The problem isn't so much that people don't know how to avoid HIV, although myths and misconceptions do exist. The problem is that people don't seem willing to change their behavior in order to protect themselves... or that they don't feel they have the power to change their behavior. People can't just know about condoms -- they must prioritize condom usage despite drawbacks like loss of pleasure or pressure from their partners. People can't just know that HIV is sexually transmitted -- they must be psychologically open to abstaining from sex despite drawbacks that are, well, obvious. HIV prevention in Africa is less about sharing knowledge, now, and more about marketing: giving people a new perspective on sex, their health, and their futures. Of course, I'm totally psyched about marketing some of these social aspects, like gender equality. (Gender equality is an HIV/AIDS issue for lots of reasons -- the most obvious being that the less power women have, the less they control their own sexual acts.) But others give me pause. Abstinence? Seriously? It sticks in my craw. Obviously, I don't HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018583

have a problem with people choosing not to have sex... but I'm not sure how I feel about actively convincing people not to have sex. In America, I advocate for open, explicit, pleasure-affirming sex education. But that's a radical stance even in America -- I'm not sure whether it's possible here! At least I'm spotting a few allies, some in unexpected places: for instance, there's a great high-profile, outspoken sex-positive educator named Agrippa Khathide in South Africa... who happens to be a pastor. I'm starting to think there's room to do fascinating work here, creating culturally appropriate sex-positive education. Yet abstinence remains the only 100% effective tactic for avoiding HIV. As another educator told me, "I hate abstinence-only education more than anything. Seriously. But... here, I think it's a necessary ingredient." Is it responsible for me to avoid promoting abstinence? Even if marketing abstinence means that to some extent, I'll have to tell people sexual exploration isn't worth doing? I'm still feeling out my approach, but... what if the most effective way to fight HIV is to align myself with values antithetical to free sexuality? Does properly doing my job require me to promote a sex-negative agenda? Surely not. Surely there are ways to promote sex-positive abstinence -- perhaps a "Vibrators for African Women" program...? (This is a joke. Mostly.) And that's just one facet of the broader question keeping me awake at night! Which is: given a fatal, incurable sexually transmitted infection; given a population where, in some groups, up to 40% test positive; given a society in which culturally appropriate messages emphatically do not include my pro-sex, pro-queer, pro-kink approach to sex education... what does being a sex-positive educator mean? Maybe I can harvest clues from my own feelings, past and present, about abstinence: clues for how to promote it compassionately, effectively and responsibly; clues for locating my boundaries when I talk about it. And maybe I can harvest down-to-earth advice from my relationship with Mr. Chastity, too. I can work from toxic masculine norms he's had such trouble with, and examine how men in southern Africa might likewise worry about abstinence -- if you think American men have tough definitions of sexual manliness to contend with, then try living in a place where the big men have multiple wives and over a dozen children. I also think it'll be hot to be bound against going "too far." Maybe I can learn how abstinence is fun, fun, fun! Hey, at the very least, it'll give me a taste of what I'm telling everyone else to do. KOK ok The original version of this article can be found on the Internet, but please note that I've done some editing for clarity. Here's the original: http://carnalnation.com/content/45211/1133/sexual-abcs-africa-part-1-abstinence HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018584

EDUCATION: [theory] Sexual ABCs in Africa, Part 2: Be Faithful This is the second in the three-part "Sexual ABCs" series, but I originally intended it to be the last one, because it's the most complicated by far. TK OK ok Sexual ABCs in Africa, Part 2: Be Faithful South African President Jacob Zuma has three wives; in a headline-making ceremony, a South African businessman recently married four women at once. King Mswati of Swaziland has thirteen wives, and his father King Sobhuza had 70. (Yes. Seventy.) Here in southern Africa, even those rich men who don't take multiple wives almost always support mistresses. Naturally, local women don't get multiple spouses, and the social penalties for infidelity are much worse for women. In America, feminists often point out that "slut" is an insult while "stud" is a compliment; there's a similar linguistic trend in siZulu, but the English words are mild compared to their siZulu equivalents. te Kk ok I rarely practice consensual non-monogamy myself, but I don't hesitate to advocate destigmatizing polyamory and swing in America. True, my primary interest is BDSM, but there's so much to learn from every form of consensual sexuality. Plus, we're basically on the same side -- it'd be great if different sex subcultures had more consciousness of a sex-positive "agenda" or "movement"! Although our communities have different emphases and, sometimes, profoundly different values, I see swingers and polyfolk as my brothers- and sisters-in-arms. But enough of the soapbox! The point is that I've often defended poly -- and I've gotten into interesting arguments doing so. One friend noted just how hard it is for poly people to negotiate their relationships. "It's so complicated,” he complained. "So much communication is required. Doesn't that seem like an argument against it? If polyamory were really a good relationship model, then people wouldn't have to put so much effort into accomplishing it.” "It's only complicated because polyamory isn't our societal default," I replied. "People have to put extra effort into negotiating relationships that fall outside the norm. The same thing happens with BDSM. Kinksters must spend a lot more time discussing our sexual relationships, because it's more dangerous for us to make assumptions about where our partners want to go. That doesn't mean there's anything wrong with kink. "And," I added, "that extra effort can be a feature, not a bug! The fact that kinksters spend so much time isolating different aspects of our sexuality has given us a uniquely fine- grained sexual vocabulary. I think most kinksters tend to make fewer assumptions about our partners' boundaries than vanilla people do. And circumstances have forced us to develop some brilliant strategies for bedroom communication. I'm not saying we're all brilliant communicators, but I think we've got a unique window on it. When I run sexual communication workshops, half the tactics I share are filched from the BDSM HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018585

subculture; I just rename them for a general audience. Many polyfolk have similar insights about relationship communication." Being in southern Africa, seeing all these men partnered with multiple women, has brought that conversation to mind. Because the majority of men can't afford multiple wives and some churches frown on the practice, polygyny isn't exactly the default -- but it's certainly a well-respected, highly desirable relationship formation. (Polygyny is the most precise term for the type of polygamy that's practiced here, where men can have multiple wives but women can't have multiple husbands. However, a lot of Africans simply call it "polygamy.") And men who can't go the open route frequently do the same thing discreetly. In the July 2009 issue of New African Magazine, Akua Djanie -- who moved to England at age 10 and grew up there -- observes: "I know very few African men, especially those living on the continent, who keep only one partner. The majority of men I come across are in multiple relationships, sometimes open, but most times on the quiet." She also notes that "in some instances, a man's manhood is judged by the number of women he can keep.” So monogamy is not the default; and negotiating monogamy is difficult, here. But a new factor makes it a matter of life and death: HIV. te Kk ok The basic centerpiece of HIV prevention is ABC -- Abstinence, Being faithful, and using Condoms. But the three strategies haven't always received equal airtime. "The Fidelity Fix," a 2004 New York Times Magazine article by Helen Epstein, quoted one analyst who believed "partner reduction has been the neglected middle child of the ABC approach." Epstein wrote, "Perhaps the topic seems weighted with moral judgment; perhaps Western advisors in particular feel it would be insensitive to raise it; perhaps they also feel it would be futile to try to change deeply rooted patterns of behavior." She outlined those patterns and concluded, "A fidelity campaign does seem worth a try, even if it might seem overly simplistic and preachy." Another expert, quoted in a 2007 Washington Post piece on multiple partners in Botswana, agreed: "There has never been equal emphasis on ‘Don't have many partners’... If you just say, 'Use the condom’... we will never see the daylight of the virus leaving us." Living in southern Africa now, it seems clear that this recommendation has been taken to heart. I regularly spot posters, stickers and billboards for fidelity campaigns that apparently didn't exist a few years ago. Although cultural pride is a big deal here, locals routinely disparage risky marriage-related cultural practices: for instance, many speak harshly against wife inheritance, whereby a woman whose husband has died is traditionally expected to marry his brother. Many such practices are becoming more and more unusual. However, the larger phenomenon of polygyny seems harder to budge. I recently sat in on a partner reduction dialogue for one town's church leaders; it was attended by representatives both from churches that allow polygamous marriages, and those that don't. The discussion was quite civil, though one anti-polygamy preacher did make snide comments towards the polygamists. They talked about issues like an absence of marriage counseling, preachers’ failure to act as positive role models, and churches’ HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018586

failure to be transparent about HIV. (The all-male group also noted "women's selfish impatience with erectile dysfunction,” "women preferring men who last longer," "women preferring men with a lot of money,” and "women not loving their husbands enough" as contributing factors to fidelity failure.) The group seemed pleased to work together, and eager to address the problem. The question of members being pro- or anti-polygamy was, apparently, only a side note. As it happens, there are plenty of polygamy problems that have nothing to do with HIV/AIDS. These divisions would exist without the disease. For instance, some preachers who don't support polygamy will sanction divorce and remarriage. One man told me that "true" polygamous marriage -- in which a man has many wives, all supported simultaneously -- is slowly being replaced: rich men now often take younger wives, but divorce and cast aside the previous wives first. The "new" approach looks suspiciously like the Western model of "serial monogamy”... except that the women, left with few resources, rarely marry again. (The gender inequality is highlighted when only one partner has HIV: an HIV-positive man will likely be nursed by his wife, while HIV- positive women can fear anything from abuse to abandonment.) Partly because abandonment is getting so common and partly due to doctrinal interpretations, there is yet a third group of church leaders who not only reject polygamy but refuse to remarry divorced people. Most interestingly, I've noticed that from some perspectives, the current system appears to stack the moral deck in favor of polygyny. A lot of the time, people will claim that there are only three alternatives: (1) abandonment and/or deadbeat fatherhood, (2) cheating, or (3) overt polygyny. If those are the alternatives, then even empowered women will argue in favor of polygyny -- though not happily, since they're quite conscious that a system supporting polygamy without polyandry is completely unfair. For example, in the aforementioned July 2009 New African piece, titled "The Sins of Our Fathers," Akua Djanie reflects bitterly upon a father who ignored her mother in favor of his second wife. She writes that she "will encourage [her sons] to have a relationship with only one woman at a time. And if they make the mistake of having children from different women, I will make sure they are responsible for each and every one of them." Then, however, she asserts that "although I myself would never wish to be in such a [polygamous] relationship, I think it can work, does work, and has worked in the past"; that "the issue is not so much with the pros and cons of polygamy, but more with the irresponsible behavior of some men"; and that "African men are still as polygamous as they were in my father's heyday. In fact I believe that polygamy will never go away." Djanie doesn't mention HIV once. (It's worth noting that Djanie is very aware of Western cultural imperialism; she loathes and deconstructs those who downgrade African culture in favor of Western. For instance, her November 2009 New African piece was about how frustrating it is that Africans usually model Christmas on Western standards, showing images of white children frolicking in Alpine snow. Thus, her argument against polygamy is especially striking.) Recently, I spoke to some grassroots HIV educators who go door-to-door in their rural villages. They keep a list of different prevention tactics that they discuss with their neighbors. Glancing through, I saw both Zero Grazing and Be Faithful side-by-side. "I HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018587

don't understand the difference between these two," I said, prompting the educators to confer amongst themselves in siZulu. Finally, one offered, "Be Faithful is about monogamy with one partner. Zero Grazing is about having multiple wives and not going outside the marriage." The others seemed to agree. Given their limited English and my limited siZulu, I decided not to ask: "Does promoting both strike you as a mixed message?" (I did ask whether they think people listen to their advice. In response, they just looked depressed.) Clearly, the fidelity fix has arrived. What's harder to determine is how much, and in what manner, the message is being emphasized -- not to mention, whether it's actually taking root. KK Ok Given my experience with polyamory, and my nigh-rabid promotion of straightforward communication as the Cure For All Ills, I can't help wondering: would it help to port communication tactics from our polyamorous allies over to southern Africa? But polyamory is fundamentally different from polygyny. Polyamory assumes that both partners have equal footing -- equal negotiating status -- whereas polygyny assumes that men are entitled to privileges women aren't. Would it be possible to take the lessons of even-handed polyamory, and apply them to polygyny? What if I choose not to address polygyny -- to avoid the whole culturally fraught debate, and just create relationship communication workshops inspired by polyamorous (and BDSM) analysis? (That way, with no one alienated by an overt stance, I may reach the audience better anyway.) Will it work if I teach from a perspective of assumed gender equality? My instinct is "yes"; I've even found a heartening example! The well-known South African Pastor Agrippa Khathide preaches equality for women and sexual pleasure for everyone (as long as they're married first, of course). He gives explicit sermons including technical sexual advice, and has been quoted in interviews asserting things like: "married people should be totally free to express themselves any way they wish in the bedroom," that "they must be willing to experiment, explore and explicitly acknowledge the giving and receiving of pleasure," and that women are entitled to "enjoyment of sex like men.” If he can do that, surely I can do something similar! Surely, then, my inherent egalitarian assumptions would make a positive impact, even if I say nothing direct about irritating male entitlement. Yet I worry that if I focus on relationship communication and don't directly take on the monogamy juggernaut, I will sidestep the heart of these debates. Indeed, not only might I be sidestepping -- I might be turning my gaze from the very place I ought to focus. te ok ok Perhaps the hardest part about wrapping my head around a fidelity campaign isn't whether certain tactics are appropriate or inappropriate, effective or ineffective. It's that they can be both, or neither -- and while culture matters, it varies by individual. More to the point, while culture affects attitudes towards Abstinence and Condoms, there aren't many ways to interpret the implementation of those two dicta. HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018588

The people who live here themselves are divided about what fidelity means. Be Faithful, or Zero Grazing? Multiple wives, or divorce and remarriage? They themselves are working towards gender equality, but have just as many arguments about its implementation as Westerners do. They themselves are proud of their culture, and yet there's one anti-HIV slogan that always leaps out at me when I spot it among the myriad of posters and stickers: There is nothing cultural about dying of AIDS. te Ok ok The original version of this article can be found on the Internet, but please note that I've done some editing for clarity. Here's the original: http://carnalnation.com/content/45680/1 133/sexual-abcs-africa-part-2-be-faithful EDUCATION: [theory] Sexual ABCs in Africa, Part 3: Condoms This article followed the previous two articles, published at CarnalNation.com in January 2010. I think a lot of people would like to believe that Africans are "different from us" and that's why HIV has had such an impact in Africa. And it's accurate to say that certain cultural patterns influence the spread of HIV, as I described in the previous piece, "Be Faithful." But the truth is, also, that people are similar everywhere: we respond to certain incentives, and sexuality is one of our most powerful incentives. The terrifying truth is that Africans are not especially different from us... and given the right circumstances, the West can and will be equally vulnerable to this awful epidemic. And as I learned more and then came home, I began to see just how vulnerable we are. There are poor, marginalized areas of the USA where HIV is reaching the same proportions that it has reached in Africa. And even among privileged young Americans, HIV rates have been rising for the first time in years. te Ok ok Sexual ABCs in Africa, Part 3: Condoms In America, the common argument against explicit sex education -- and promoting condom use in schools -- is that it will encourage kids to be promiscuous. The idea is that if we portray it as normal for kids to be having sex and tell them how to do it safely, they'll be more likely to go and have sex. As for the kids who'll have sex anyway... well, they're sinning and don't deserve to know what they're doing. Some things don't change, even across oceans. I occasionally hear the same arguments against promoting condom use in southern Africa. But here, HIV is ripping the populace HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018589

to pieces, and it's much harder to speak against condoms when funeral processions wind through your neighborhood every weekend. Occasional religious educators claim that promoting condom usage waters down their message and therefore makes anti-HIV education less effective; but most churches I've encountered take a pragmatic, condom- promoting approach. Indeed, one of the best HIV curricula I've seen so far is the "Channels of Hope" workshop, created by the Christian organization World Vision and designed to train church groups. It not only promotes explicit condom education, but urges compassion towards sex workers and homosexuals. And it discusses why marital rape isn't okay! I'd venture to say that the majority of liberal, secular sex education curricula in the USA aren't as awesome. Just the other day, I was surveying a bunch of kids aged 11-13 and they asked how to put on a condom. Cursing myself silently, I had to admit that I didn't have any to show them... at which point one child dashed from the room and returned minutes later bearing both a condom, plus a rather splintery stick from a firewood pile. Condom distribution is in full swing; I can think of three places to pick up free condoms within a ten-minute walk from where I'm seated. Condoms are described in kids' textbooks, and condom demonstrations are welcome in every school. Condoms are lauded by politicians, pop icons, and religious leaders. Take any person off the street and they'll know the HIV- prevention mantra: ABC -- Abstain, Be faithful, use Condoms. Yet condom usage rates are still killingly low. KK ok Though I'm fishbelly-pale, I'm not great at wearing sunscreen, and I live in Africa. I try... I mean, I kinda try... I mean it's so annoying to apply, and it feels gross! And this notwithstanding the fact that I literally have ten bottles of top-quality, non-sticky, oil-free sunscreen sitting across the room from me as I type this. On the other hand, I religiously take my malaria prophylactic pill; I've noticed no side effects, and getting malaria would really suck. I recall one recurring conversation between myself and a former boyfriend, whom I dated for years. We'd both had excellent sex education, and yet we used withdrawal as our primary birth-control method. We did it even though we both had boxes of condoms available. We did it even though neither of us wanted me to get pregnant, and -- though I'm definitely pro-choice -- I wasn't sure I could bring myself to have an abortion. We'd both been tested, and we trusted each other not to cheat, but that's some dangerous trust to extend -- and we knew it. One particular moment comes to mind: we were lying lazily in bed together, talking about how stupid we were. "We should be more careful,” he said seriously. "We really should," I agreed. "Let's be more careful,” he suggested. I nodded. We weren't. HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018590

Were we stupid? Obviously. Were we normal? Unfortunately, yes. A few months ago, I chatted with another American HIV educator about the situation here in Africa. "They know to use condoms," she complained, "and they have the condoms! I just don't get it!" "I agree that it's incomprehensible," I said, "but hey, I haven't always been 100% careful, and I'm a sex educator." She glanced at me, then away. "Yeah, I haven't either,” she admitted. There was a gloomy pause, and then we couldn't help it -- we cracked up. "I hate love," she said when the giggles subsided. She shook her head. "That shit fucks with you." Why didn't I use condoms with that ex? I still don't know! When you instruct people to use condoms as often as I do, you get accustomed to the arguments. I hear the same reasons we didn't use condoms -- because they don't feel as good, because they interrupt the moment, etc. etc. etc. -- I hear them, I smile and I tell the audience, "You gotta use ‘em anyway, folks." I'm a hypocrite, but what else can I say? And there are deeper-rooted objections to condoms -- objections that are both rarely stated in public, and harder to confront. One is trust, which I've been struggling with for a long time, since before I got to Africa. I don't think it's good for condom discussions to center on trust, and I wish I had more ideas about how to refocus them. "Use condoms because you can't trust anyone, not even your lover," is an ugly message to impart. Moreover, it only encourages the audience to view not using condoms as a gift, or a signifier of trust. In America, I tend to cast it like this: "Safer sex is normal. It's the baseline. Lots of people practice it. It's an assumption. Act like it." Which, I hope, helps people simply default to safer sex without forcing direct questions about any given partner's integrity. Hopefully, it also distracts attention from seeing discarding condoms as a gift. But the truth is that condom usage isn't always an assumption even in America (witness myself and my ex). And it's less of an assumption here in Africa. How can I avoid validating the viewpoint that not using condoms is the best way to express trust? The second deep-rooted objection -- again, both in Africa and America -- is inability to maintain an erection while using a condom. When I was younger, I used to think that guys were just whining when they claimed they couldn't keep it up with a condom, but in my old age I've determined that People Are Different (no way!): while most men deal with condoms just fine, some men genuinely can't. Since people tend to be bad at communicating about sex and especially bad at making space for conversations about non-normative male sexuality, this isn't often acknowledged. Fortunately, the solution is easy: men who have trouble with condomised penis-in-vagina sex gain a glorious opportunity to explore all the other kinds of sex! People tend to panic when confronted with the idea of a man who can't have penetrative sex. But that's sex-negative nonsense based entirely on the stereotype of "real sex" as penis-in-vagina intercourse. The solution to loss of erection isn't to sit around awkwardly wishing you could be having penetrative sex. The solution is for both partners to start exploring with mouths, hands... and words. But teaching about this means speaking very explicitly, and it can be hard to have those conversations in a conservative society HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018591

without being run out of town. KOK ok In the Strange Case of Clarisse and Her Condomless Ex, I was at least Being Faithful with a pre-tested partner, and I didn't live in an HIV-rich population. The risks were lower, and it's true that I've never run those kinds of risks outside a long-term monogamous relationship. But the bottom line remains: my ex and I did it even though we knew better. He and J are both privileged people. Neither of us was dependent on the other for money, for instance. If two highly privileged people who agree that condoms are necessary can fail to use condoms, what about people who don't have that privilege? In many places across the world, including much of southern Africa, sex workers can charge double for sex without a condom. No businesswoman is likely to insist on a measure that will halve her profits -- especially if she already lives on a razor-fine margin, and especially if she's already contracted HIV herself. Likewise, if a girl can't afford expensive school fees and therefore sleeps with her teachers, then she's hardly in a position to demand protection. Many married women quite justifiably fear divorce, violence or murder if they refuse their husbands sex without a condom -- in one recent case, a wife tested negative for HIV while her husband tested positive, but when she tried to refuse condomless sex, he killed her. Some pro-condom campaigns tell the populace that "it's your responsibility: you must respect your body and take the initiative"; but while that works for some people, it's a terribly cruel message for people who lack the standing to negotiate with their partners. Add to this the fact that, if you know enough people living with HIV -- and if your life already seems difficult and directionless -- the disease will start to seem like much less of a big deal. A friend reports that one day, sitting in a salon, she saw a man exit with a sex worker. "Don't forget a condom!" she called bluntly. His reply: "I'm not the first to get it, and I won't be the last." (Indeed, there are documented cases of marginal populations deliberately contracting HIV when they perceived benefits. For instance, when HIV- positive illegal immigrants in France were offered citizenship as part of a humanitarian initiative, some sought out the disease.) People who ignore prophylactics will always be with us. Some of them will be like me and my ex, or the sex worker's client: despite knowing the risk, transient pleasure trumps absolute safety. There isn't much to be done about that demographic, save ensuring that they (we) truly grasp the consequences we risk with our silliness. Some people, however, will be vulnerable more because they're female, or young, or poor. In those cases, addressing the root causes -- sexism, poverty, abuse -- becomes the only solution. Thus, some of the best HIV programs in southern Africa appear to address completely different issues. These include: * Identifying and supporting income-generating projects for women, so that they have the resources to walk away from abusive partners; * Sponsoring schools, so that they can educate for free and remove one reason a HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018592

schoolchild might sleep with a teacher; * Facilitating support groups, so members can share tactics for negotiating safer sex (or, if already HIV-positive, help each other cope with obligations and treatment regimens); * Creating strong communities, so people are quite simply more motivated to live. KK Ok It's always tempting to see unfamiliar cultures as monolithic, but we must remind ourselves that they never are. Every society in the world contains its own divides, just like America's culture and subcultures. Because HIV/AIDS functions along the very taboo, very culturally-influenced axis of sexuality, it throws taboo cultural sexual divides into high relief. In America, one thing the disease's advent served to highlight was stigma towards LGBTQ and other radical sexual subcultures. American HIV mitigation has often sought to redress that stigma. Here, one thing it serves to highlight -- one thing mitigation seeks to redress -- is mainstream gender and relationship issues. But these splits existed before HIV came along. Although the prevalence of HIV sheds light on and invokes compassion for these divisions, they're more enduring than we like to think. Still, I can't help noticing the phoenixes arising from these ashes. Firstly, it turns out that the best way to shut down sex-negative arguments against explicit sex education is to invoke the specter of HIV. One 2008 report from a well-respected local organization argued that AIDS prevention efforts should include straightforward lessons on pleasurable acts, such as oral sex or sex toy usage! (Obviously, I hope to work with this organization.) A 2004 New York Times Magazine article on HIV in southern Africa made the case that while "many experts contend that sexual-behavior change in Africa is complicated because women's fear of abusive partners inhibits private discussions of sex, condom use and HIV," the crisis also contributes to a better environment for those discussions. One researcher is quoted pointing out that, "young South Africans are much more likely to talk about sex and are developing 'a vocabulary for discussing feelings and desires.” Furthermore, southern African movements for women's empowerment invariably cite HIV as a reason change is necessary now. Because gender oppression is acknowledged as a driver of the epidemic, gender equality is an explicit goal of both governments and major HIV organizations. Even admirably reasonable laws about sex work are being discussed -- considerably more reasonable than most Western sex work legislation. The laws probably won't pass, unfortunately, but at least they're on the radar. I've got a twisted confession to make. On days when I feel particularly flippant, I find myself thinking: Thank God for HIV/AIDS! Without HIV... would women's empowerment be such a given? Aside from bleeding heart feminists like myself, who would care about sex workers' conditions? Aside from sex-positive nuts like myself, who would advocate for explicit sex education? Here's hoping we can create better social conditions to arrest the pandemic... and keep those conditions going afterwards. HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018593

te OK ok The original version of this article can be found on the Internet, but please note that I've done some editing for clarity. Here's the original: http://carnalnation.com/content/46266/1 133/sexual-abcs-africa-part-3-condoms ACTIVISM: [theory] Colonized Libidos This article was published at CarnalNation.com in early 2010. Anti-oppression theory sure can get out of touch with reality. te ok ok Colonized Libidos The situation for gay / lesbian rights here in Africa has gotten lots of media attention lately, and I myself have written about meeting a Swazi lesbian activist who was later murdered. So I won't waste your time by talking about how bad it can get to be gay here (although it's worth noting that I've seen at least one interesting argument about how the places in Africa where homosexuality is most heavily punished are also the ones with the strongest national dialogue, and thus arguably some of the best ones to actually be gay). Besides, I've become somewhat numb to the situation's sheer awfulness since arriving last year. What catches my attention these days is unfamiliar cultural angles and arguments. While reading the local paper, I recently came upon yet another gay-shaming article -- but instead of railing about God's will, the article talked about cultural imperialism. Specifically, it argued that gays and lesbians are gay and lesbian only because of the West. Gays and lesbians, the theory goes, have been so influenced by the Sodom and Gomorrah that is the West that they've internalized our permissive, scandalous sexual mores. (Those of us who actually come from the West are, of course, a little confused by how our fractured native cultures -- still fiercely arguing about homosexuality within themselves -- might create such an influence.) An African proud of his or her Africanness, who rejects the colonial West, will therefore not only wear African traditional garb and participate in African traditional ceremonies but will also be straight. (Ironically, some historians have pointed out that much of Africa was much less homophobic before Western missionaries came in.) I got a front-line view of this attitude when I took a newspaper to the Post Office for photocopying. "Another article about lesbians!" snorted the postmaster -- they're getting to know me around there. He took the papers from me and shuffled through my requested pages. "Is it true,” he asked, "that President Obama supports lesbians?” "Yes," I said. HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018594

He looked shocked; I wondered if he'd expected me to say no. "What?!" he cried, and took a moment to regain his composure. "Well, that's American culture," he said finally. "It's not African culture.” I took a deep breath and pressed my lips together. I'd be in big trouble with my employer if I kicked up a storm at the Post Office, but oh, man -- in that moment, I really, really wanted to. "How much do I owe you?" I asked instead, and went home to lose myself in a nice sex-positive book. Personally, what I find most intriguing about these assertions of cultural imperialism is how they compare to similar assertions in the West. I'm a kinkster and pro-BDSM activist, but I'm also a feminist, which can make for some serious anxiety. A lot of my coming-out process involved both a difficult internal struggle and my observations of arguments between kinksters and anti-BDSM feminists, who often make very similar allegations to these African speakers on "cultural imperialism." The very articulate BDSM blogger Trinity (who, of late, has sadly decreased her involvement in the blogosphere) has spent lots of time analyzing and participating in those arguments. One of my favorite Trinity posts, titled "Why BDSM?", hosts a radical feminist commenter who writes: If we lived in a healthy society, the idea of BDSM would not even come up in the first place. BDSM is here, as a manifestation of that unhealthiness, but to try to ‘stop' the people who aren't being coerced into it would do more harm than the thing itself... Iam not saying tolerance of BDSM directly causes our sick society, but that it is a very strong symptom of a society were hierarchy, inequality and degradation are seen as the norm of human relations. Accepting BDSM is accepting this status quo. ... by challenging all inequality, including that in BDSM, we are putting forward the idea that other possibilities are available. In other words: the Patriarchy made me kinky, and if I don't challenge kink then I'm supporting the Patriarchy. I would imagine that Africans pushing the cultural imperialism argument would say something similar: Western colonial influence made you gay, and if you don't challenge homosexuality then you're supporting Western colonial influence. Well, "with us or against us" arguments are inherently flawed. And then there's the fact that, similarly to homosexuals, many of us kinksters consider our desires to be innate and largely unchangeable. So if our desires can't be changed, then what exactly is accomplished by shaming us through anti-oppressive theory-speak? (And make no mistake -- for those of us who take the theory seriously, it really does feel shameful to find others telling us we're in opposition, even within the private sphere of sexuality.) I'm not remotely convinced that our sexuality arose solely because of an oppressive society -- but even if it's true, then what am I, or African gay people, supposed to actually do in order to challenge the sick status quo? Give up on our desires and never have satisfying sex again? I tend to think that the idea of sexual orientations or innateness is a red herring -- not because I believe that innateness doesn't exist, but because it's not actually relevant to sexual morality. What should be important is only the question of whether all involved HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018595

sexual partners are consenting adults, not whether their desires are innate. Alas, it's clear that across the world, people who are instinctively grossed out by alternative sexuality will always find ways to reframe the question into how our acts are just plain wrong and our consent is irrelevant -- and that's as true of some feminists and cultural loyalists as it is of Bible-thumpers. KK ok This can be found on the Internet at: http://carnalnation.com/content/5 1544/1 133/colonized-libidos VEGAN: [theory] Confections of a Pickup Artist Chaser I've been vegetarian since 2009 and vegan since 2011; I wrote this in 2012. TK OK ok Confections of a Pickup Artist Chaser There are delicious recipes at the end! Read this article for the recipes! I feel hyper-aware that this piece may alienate some readers, because it's a post about being vegan, i.e. not eating animal products. Lot of folks are touchy about that. So, I want to do some pre-emptive damage control: I want to clarify up front that I have no interest in calling anyone an asshole. If you're not vegan, then I want to try and change your mind... but I don't think you're an Incontrovertibly Bad Person, and I hope we can still be friends. And, look, I'm not gonna pretend I'm perfect. I screw up all the time, on all kinds of social justice issues, and I'll be learning for the rest of my life. For me, the hardest thing about being vegan has nothing to do with the food, although I think many foods made from animal products are delicious, and occasionally I have trouble resisting them. For me, the hard part is all about social situations. If I'm at a social event where non-vegan food is served and there are no other vegans, sometimes I just eat it -- especially if it will Become A Big Social Problem if I don't eat it. I also sometimes eat non-vegan food that's been rescued from the trash (some of us call this "freegan"). And occasionally, when I'm spending a lot of time with someone who's non-vegan, then I'll sometimes break veganism in front of them in order to reassure them that I'm not judging them. I have vegan friends who consider this an unacceptable level of accommodation; sorry folks. I am aware that stigmatizing, judging, and attacking non-vegans is one tactic for convincing them to go vegan. Personally, I find it stressful and frequently HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018596

counterproductive. I'd rather set an example and be welcoming. (Yet I acknowledge that it's possible I wouldn't be able to do this effectively if aggressive vegans did not exist. Aggressive vegans help create the space where I get to look "reasonable" and "welcoming." The blogger Kinsey Hope once wrote a really brilliant activist typology that describes these dynamics. And of course, it's worth noting that I'm often characterized as an appeaser by feminists, too.) So. That said? If you think you're going to Get Upset Or Offended by this post, please just don't read it. Seriously. But if you're willing to not freak out for a moment, then here are my two primary arguments for why you should go vegan: 1. It’s easy. Yes, there will be some shitty social situations: awkward moments at restaurants, pushback from your non-vegan friends, and so on. Yes, you will have to avoid some very delicious foods. And food labels will become a whole new world of confusion. But even with all these factors, veganism really isn't as hard as people make it out to be. There's a lot of delicious vegan food out there. A number of my favorite foods were vegan before I went vegan, and some of yours probably are as well. (Recipes coming up!) Here is a free online vegan starter guide that includes recipes. Here is a very comprehensive list of vegan cookbooks; they range from "easy" to "incredibly complicated Martha-Stewart-land." I am a fiend for baked goods, and I like Vegan Cupcakes Take Over The World by Isa Chandra Moskowitz and Terry Hope Romero. And there's an increasing number of high-quality all-vegan restaurants. My favorite ones in Chicago are Native Foods (delicious cardamom rose cupcakes!) and Urban Vegan (delicious fake orange chicken!). I won't get involved in appeals-to-healthitude, because I know both healthy vegans and unhealthy vegans, and the science is inconclusive... but I will point that out again: the science is inconclusive. Unless you have an unusual disorder, modern nutrition has identified no conclusive scientific reasons for not being vegan. Plus: If you aren't vegan, but you don't pay any attention to eating healthy food, then you're being a hypocrite if you make a “health argument" for being non-vegan even if the science was conclusive, which it's not. And! If you're really into health, there's a highly- recommended book called Thrive written by a vegan professional athlete named Brendan Brazier. Some of my friends specifically do things like convince people to try veganism for short periods, or run Vegan Weeks at universities or whatever, just to show how (a) delicious and (b) easy vegan food can be. It works surprisingly well. A key ingredient in my own adoption of veganism was knowing vegans, and seeing how simple it was to be vegan. I used to push back really strongly... I think I resisted mostly because it was very hard to acknowledge that by eating animal products, I was participating in an incredibly fucked up system. First I had to recognize that I was doing something really bad, that I had been doing so for my entire life, and that most people I love do it too. This is a familiar problem for activists, of course; most people resist acknowledging that they participate in a racist, sexist culture, too. (As one of my vegan friends puts it: "I've found that people usually go through the strongest asshole anti-vegan phase right before they convert to veganism.") HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018597

Of all the social-justice acts out there, I actually think veganism is one of the lowest- hanging fruit. It's just so easy that the only reason non-vegan culture can possibly persist is through a really high degree of not giving a shit. In a way, that's understandable; I don't have much of a connection to animals myself. A lot of my vegan friends love animals and want to be around them all the time; I don't. If a smelly dog never jumps on me again, it will be too soon. But the fact is, animals have senses and feelings. Interacting with any animal for longer than thirty seconds can conclusively show you that animals like and dislike things, and that they feel something that looks exactly like pain. Which brings me to... 2. If you care about consent, then veganism is transparently the right thing to do. There are environmental arguments and stuff, but I mean, seriously, let's call a spade a spade: when you eat meat, you're eating the murdered body of an animal who died for no reason other than your transient pleasure. As for animal products: many things that happen to animals on factory farms are abominable and obscene, as two minutes of Googling or this_ website or this video can show you. Even if you decide to eat animal products that come only from well-treated animals, there's no way to be sure that those animals were actually well-treated unless you're raising them yourself. As this vegan FAO points out, there's an amazing amount of animal suffering that still occurs on "humane" farms. (Sa/on has written about it, too.) Some of those farms are doubtless fairly pleasant for the animals, but others.... Well, let's just say that calling some "humane" farms more merciful than factory farms is like saying that being burned alive is preferable to dying in a medieval torture device. Personally, when I went vegan, a lot of the reason it felt easy was because I no longer had to spend tons of mental energy suppressing my empathy. I was amazed at how relieved I felt. Again, I'm not pretending to be perfect about it -- I eat non-vegan food sometimes in social situations, sometimes when it's about to be thrown away, and sometimes just when I'm drunk. If you need to make accommodations in order to feel comfortable being vegan, then I'm the last person who will criticize you. I'll just be glad you're taking steps towards being vegan. It took me a long time to decide to go vegan, and I understand that it might take you a long time, too. I've listed a lot of resources in this post and I hope you'll consider looking at them. Questions are welcome in the comments, although I may not be able to answer them. I wish you luck. And if you're already vegan, then congratulations and high-5! Now for recipes! I promise that these recipes are beloved by non-vegans as well as vegans. In fact, even when I wasn't vegan, they were some of my favorites. When I feed these dishes to non- vegans, they are frequently startled that the food isn't vegan. (Sometimes I save the Big Reveal for last. Heh, heh.) (One of my other favorite gentle pro-vegan tactics is to walk into restaurants and ask if they have anything vegan on the menu. When the answer is no, I smile and thank them and leave.) Organic and fair-trade ingredients are obviously encouraged. I'm not as good about HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018598

organic and fair-trade as I could be, mostly because of expense, but I try to do it when I can. Kickass Vegan Chocolate Chip Cookies This is a modified version of a recipe that I originally found here, and some of the text comes from that recipe. + 1 and 1/2 cups of FLOUR + | teaspoon BAKING SODA + 1 teaspoon SALT + 3/4 cup of OIL + 2 tablespoons COCONUT MILK (or ALMOND MILK or SOY MILK) + 1 & 1/3 cups of UNREFINED SUGAR + HALF A BANANA + 1 1/2 tablespoons VANILLA EXTRACT (I've occasionally used RUM as a replacement; when I do that, I like to add some CINNAMON) + 2 1/2 cups OATMEAL + 12 oz. of DARK CHOCOLATE CHIPS Heat your oven to 350 degrees. Mix FLOUR, BAKING SODA and SALT together. Set aside. Mix together the OIL and SUGAR. Mix until creamy. Thoroughly mash the BANANA into the mixture. Add the COCONUT MILK. Add the VANILLA. Stir this mixture until it is a uniform color (this will not take long). Slowly stir in the FLOUR mixture. Mix this well. Stir in OATMEAL and CHOCOLATE-CHIPS. Preheat oven to baking temperature (usually 350 F). Place large tablespoons full of the batter onto an ungreased cookie sheet (an air filled cookie sheet works best, as the air between the two layers of the sheet keeps the bottom of baked items from burning). Bake the cookies for about 9 to 13 minutes (ovens vary in temperature). Check them by gently pressing on the top of one of the cookies. If the inside looks moist, but not too wet, they are probably done. It might take you a couple of tries to get the time down, so bake only a few at a time when starting out. Do not, I repeat, do not expect to see them turn HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018599

slightly brown when done cooking. Without real eggs, they will not get that dark. They will, however, turn a golden tan. When they are done, remove them from the oven and allow them to sit on the sheet for about a minute or two before placing them on a wire rack. Be careful with them as they tend to be quite delicate until they have cooled. Kickass Chocolate Cake I think I modified this recipe from an Internet source too, but I can't find it now. + 1 1/2 cups FLOUR + 1 cup SUGAR + 1/2 cup UNSWEETENED COCOA + 1 tablespoon GROUND CLOVES + 1 teaspoon BAKING SODA + 1 teaspoon CAYENNE PEPPER + 1/4 teaspoon SALT + 1 cup ALMOND MILK (or COLD WATER) + 1/4 cup OIL + 1 tablespoon BALSAMIC VINEGAR + 1 tablespoon VANILLA (once I replaced this with ORANGE EXTRACT and added some CINNAMON, and the result was amazing) Preheat oven to baking temperature. In a bowl beat together the OIL, SUGAR, SALT, SPICES and COCOA until well- combined. Add the remaining ingredients, and stir until well-combined. Pour into a greased enamel plate or cake dish and bake 20-30 minutes. Don't worry if the batter tastes quite spicy -- it mellows out a lot, when you bake it so that the end result is more chocolate with a spicy after-taste. Cool. Then mix the following ingredients together, and pour the resultant icing on top: + 1 cup POWDERED SUGAR + 1/2 cup UNSWEETENED COCOA + 6 tablespoons COCONUT MILK (or ALMOND MILK or SOY MILK) Tofu Tikka Masala This is a modified recipe that originated with a friend. + 5 tablespoons OIL + 2 medium ONIONS, thinly sliced HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018600

+ 5 large GARLIC CLOVES, finely chopped +2 BAY LEAVES + 1 inch fresh GINGER, finely chopped + 1/2 inch CINNAMON STICK + 4 CLOVES + 4 PEPPERCORNS + 1 CARDAMOM POD + 2 pounds TOFU + | tablespoon GROUND CORIANDER + 1 teaspoon GARAM MASALA + | teaspoon GROUND CUMIN + 1/2 teaspoon CAYENNE PEPPER + 1/2 teaspoon GROUND TURMERIC + 14 ounces CANNED TOMATOES + SALT to taste + 2/3 cup SOY YOGURT Heat OIL in large, heavy-bottomed sauce pan. Add ONIONS, GARLIC, GINGER, BAY LEAVES, and WHOLE SPICES; fry gently on medium heat until sauteed. Add the TOFU, and fry until the pieces are lightly golden brown on all sides. (Here are some tips on frying tofu so it has a light crust.) Stir in CORIANDER, GARAM MASALA, CUMIN, CAYENNE, TURMERIC, TOMATOES, and SALT. Cook for a while (10 minutes works). Add SOY YOGURT and cook for another while. As a general rule, the longer you cook a spicy dish like this, the spicier it'll be. KOK ok This can be found on the Internet at: HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018601

te OK ok POLYAMORY: [theory] In Praise of Monogamy This post was published in mid-2011, and it got more attention than most things I've written. The reaction was quite mixed. Some monogamists felt that I was damning monogamy with faint praise. Some polyamorists felt that it was problematic for me to write a post praising the culturally dominant Western mode of sexuality, because it's already dominant. On the other hand, the piece was cross-posted at a number of high- profile websites, and I got a lot of positive commentary too. My favorite comments came from Pepper Mint, a polyamory advocate who commented on this post when it was cross-posted at Feministe. J really felt like Pepper got what I was trying to do. Here's an excerpt from one of his comments: "Monogamy is [perceived as] a hegemonic requirement, not an option that should be advocated. So when people espouse monogamy (which is rare, since it is hegemonic), they do it by claiming that anything else is impossible or they do it by making moral statements. I challenge you to find a mainstream article that actually lists out the pragmatic benefits of monogamy, like Clarisse has done here. I don't think I've ever seen one. Indeed, when monogamy is explicitly discussed in the mainstream currently, it often seems to be in ‘is monogamy realistic ?' articles. "Note that this is all to the detriment of monogamous people as well as nonmonogamous people. When I talk to people about polyamory, I get a lot of defensive responses, for the simple reason that monogamous people are often monogamous because they did not know there was a choice, rather than monogamous by inclination or what have you. Discourse that presents monogamy as an actual choice and lists out the pros and cons of that choice is nonmonogamy-affirming in my book, unless it is hugely one-sided. "We have a problem in the poly communities I engage in, where people new to polyamory spend a couple years unfairly trashing monogamy. This is partly out of anger from their history and partly because they've finally found what they are looking for and everything else looks shabby in comparison. But it creates ill-will where none need exist, it screws up people's approach to relationships, and it bites people later if they want to go back to monogamy. "So as a polyamory activist I'm very glad this essay was written, and I've posted similar things myself in various forums. It addresses a hole in the discourse that is very important to fill.” Thanks, Pepper. TK OK ok In Praise of Monogamy There are lots of different ways of approaching non-monogamous relationships, such as: + Polyamory: Usually emphasizes developing full-on romantic relationships with more HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018602

than one partner. (I've been researching polyamory since my teens, but only in recent years did I decide to actively pursue it.) + Swinging: Usually emphasizes couples with their own close bond, who have relatively casual sex with other partners. (Another difference between swinging and polyamory is that swingers tend to be more at home in mainstream culture, whereas polyamorists tend to be geeky or otherwise "alternative." The blog Polyamory In The News has a great, long piece on poly culture vs. swing culture.) + Cheating: One partner does something with an outside partner that wasn't accepted or understood in advance. In monogamous relationships, cheating usually involves having sex with an outside partner. Cheating exists in polyamorous or swing relationships as well: for example, a person might cheat on a non-monogamous partner by breaking an agreement -- an agreement such as "we don't have unprotected sex with other partners.” Just in case it needs to be said: I never advocate cheating, ever. As for the first two, I know both poly people and swingers that I consider totally decent and wonderful folks! I have more personal experience with and interest in polyamory, though. Yet one thing that often gets lost in conversations about all these options is the advantages of monogamy. Of which there are many. Although I don't currently identify as monogamous, I had a very strong monogamous preference for years. I knew that polyamory existed, and I thought about it a lot, because it's interesting -- but I just didn't feel like it was for me. (In fact, my most adamantly polyamorous friend used to call me his "reasonable monogamous friend." He said I had examined polyamory enough to reasonably reject it, whereas he felt most people never consider polyamory deeply enough to have a thoughtful opinion.) And lately lots of my monogamous friends have been getting married. So I've been thinking about the positive aspects of their relationship choices as I dance at their weddings, devour mini-quiches, flirt with their brothers and try to avoid offending their parents. (Okay, I've actually only flirted with one brother. So far.) A Few Advantages of Monogamy (this is not a complete list) + Jealousy management. Some people experience jealousy more than, or less than, or differently from other people. Plenty of people in non-monogamous relationships experience jealousy -- and plenty of non-monogamous people handle it just fine, through open-hearted communication. (Often, jealousy is managed through very detailed relationship agreements such as a "relationship contract.") But there are also plenty of people who appear to lack the "jealousy chip." And then there are plenty of people who experience so much jealousy, who feel that jealousy is such a big part of their emotional makeup, that the best way to manage it is simply through monogamy. Personally, I used to get a lot more jealous than I do now. I think I'm less likely to get jealous these days partly because I've gotten better at finding low-drama men. Jealousy has a reputation for being an irrational emotion, and sometimes it genuinely is an unreasonable, cruel power-grab. But I think jealousy is often quite rational, and often HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018603

arises in response to a genuine emotional threat... or deliberate manipulation. There's another reason, though... I've also noticed that some switch in my brain has flipped, and I've started to eroticize jealousy. I occasionally find myself fantasizing about men I care about sleeping with other women, and sometimes the fantasy is hot because I feel mildly jealous. I cannot explain how this happened. It surprised me the first time it happened, believe me. What's really fascinating is that I think the same part of me that eroticizes jealousy, is the part that used to make me feel sick at the thought of my partner sleeping with someone else. Masochism: the gift that never stops giving! I think it's important to note here that I didn't become less jealous because I felt like I "should", or because I was told not to be jealous. In fact, I had an early boyfriend who acted like I was a hysterical bitch every time I got jealous... and he made things much worse. With him, I just felt awful when I got jealous; I couldn't get past it. I felt like he was judging me for something I couldn't help; I felt like my mind was fragmenting as I tried to force myself to "think better" without any outside support; and worst of all, I felt like I couldn't rely on him to respect my feelings. It was the men who treated my emotions like they were reasonable and understandable who decreased my jealousy. It's much harder to be jealous when your partner is saying, "I totally understand," than it is when your partner is saying, "What the hell is the matter with you?" Maybe that's what makes monogamy such an effective jealousy-management tactic: monogamy can be like a great big sign or sticker or button you can give to your partner that says, "I respect your jealousy." Which is not to say that monogamy is always effective for this -- we all know that monogamous people get jealous all the time! (Which only adds to my point that monogamy might be viewed as just one of many tactics, rather than an answer, when jealousy is a problem.) + Focus. There's an oft-repeated joke among polyamorists that "while love may be infinite, time is not." And sometimes, I've found it a little difficult to "switch gears" to a different partner. New Relationship Energy can be a little harder to manage in the polyamorous context than it is in serial monogamy. I've heard of polyamorous couples who specifically take periods of monogamy when one partner really wants one. This seems like it could be problematic -- for example, if my hypothetical primary partner wanted a period of monogamy, and I had a secondary partner (or partners) with a serious emotional connection, then I probably would not be cool with straight-up ignoring my secondary for weeks or months. There'd have to be more of a conversation about it. But regardless, this whole line of thinking makes an interesting showcase of how sometimes, people feel like they just have to focus on one relationship. Personally, I'm quite interested in S&M games of orgasm denial, though I've never had a chance to mess around with it as much as I'd like. I'm also interested in long-term lust management strategies like karezza, where the partners involved choose not to have orgasms -- instead, they maintain a low level of mutual arousal at all times. I have no moral problem with my partners looking at porn or having orgasms on their own, but sometimes when I hear about the effects of choosing not to do those things, it sounds like there's really powerful bonding potential there. Something to keep in mind for the next HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018604

time I'm really serious about someone, I guess. Monogamy isn't necessary for these things, but it would definitely make doing them less complicated. + Societal acceptance. Straight up, monogamy is the Western societal default. In some ways this makes monogamy hard to understand and communicate about -- because there are SO many assumptions and built-in expectations, and folks don't always agree on those expectations! A recent study found that 40% of young couples don't agree about whether or not they're monogamous. That amazes me, because I have never assumed that I was monogamous with a partner until we had a conversation establishing that we were monogamous... but I guess I can see how it happens, if people feel anxious about communicating and fall back on assumptions instead. Usually, however, being the societal default makes monogamy easier. Heterosexual monogamous people can get married with no problem, for example, and while marriage is obviously contested territory for non-hets, it's instructive that "gay marriage” is such a big political issue (while "polyamorous marriage" is currently nothing more than a specter right-wingers use to scare people about gay marriage). Outsiders usually assume that you're monogamous when you introduce your partner. Romantic comedies exalt monogamy; the media, and many people around us, associate monogamy with love. When you're monogamous, you never have to articulate your weird relationship structure to your parents. You rarely have to think outside the box about relationship problems, and you can go to any Western advice columnist or therapist and be sure that they'll recognize your relationship as legitimate. (Those of you who like privilege checklists might enjoy this monogamous privilege checklist, which is patterned after Peggy McIntosh's classic essay and white privilege checklist.) + Some people just like it better. Occasionally, people will toy with the idea of an “orientational” element to polyamory or monogamy: some folks just plain feel aligned with monogamy or non-monogamy. (I have similar thoughts about this as I do about BDSM as a sexual orientation.) Personally, I always think it's really key, during any sex-positive critique, to emphasize from the start that whatever you like is cool as long as the actions you take are consensual. I know people who act all apologetic for being monogamous, usually because they've been overexposed to "polyvangelists" who argue that non-monogamy is "better" or "more evolved." This is silly! Liking monogamy doesn't have to be justified, as long as you don't turn around and claim that non-monogamy is bad and wrong. And liking monogamy is a perfectly awesome reason for preferring monogamy! KK Ok This can be found on the Internet at: http://clarissethorn.com/blog/2011/06/09/in-praise-of-monogamy/ HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018605

POLYAMORY: [theory] My Top Questions About Dealing With Multiple Lovers I wrote this in early 2011. The comments on the online version are especially good -- lots of viewpoints and resources shared. Sometimes my commenters just blow me away. TK OK ok My Top Questions About Dealing With Multiple Lovers I have a lot more theoretical exposure to polyamory than personal experience, but I've been gaining more personal experience over the last year. It's often interesting, sometimes painful. Some recent experiences are making me think I am not nearly as smart or as on top of my emotions as I like to believe I am. I remind myself that I have to be willing to acknowledge when I don't know what I'm thinking, but that's harder than it looks... I don't always take enough time to understand my feelings before speaking or acting. Still. Through the stupid mistakes and the understandable ones, though my own failures to be sensitive and the little heartbreaks I've sustained, I've been learning. One thing I think I've figured out is what I want: I want a number of different relationships that are ongoing, and one or two relationships that are primary, or especially committed. Ideally, in fact, I'd love to eventually have a permanent relationship with a primary polyamorous partner in which we have kids with each other, live together most of the time, etc, but are still polyamorous. That would be a while in the future, though -- for now, it's important to me to not feel as though my partners expect me to settle down or stay in one place or anything like that. It seems like any relationship I develop, even during this relatively early time in my life, could become a child-rearing relationship eventually -- like, years from now -- but if it does, I doubt I'd want to make it monogamous. I recognize that we don't always get our ideal world. In fact, we usually don't. Although polyamory is a high priority for me, it may be something I eventually compromise on, given that the majority of people in this world identify as monogamous. Keeping all that in mind, my preference for polyamory presents some challenges, and questions that I worry about. Such as: 1. What are my responsibilities towards my partners’ other partners? A lot of poly people will tell you that if you get into a relationship with, say, a married polyamorous man, then you must also expect to interact with his spouse. In other words, don't assume that your relationship means you only interact with one half of a couple. I'm totally fine with this, but on occasion I've felt like I was getting sucked into the couple's problems, or like I was expected to have no individual relationship with my partner -- that I always had to go through his primary partner. Yes, it is certainly my responsibility to communicate with my partners’ other partners and to be friendly with them. But I need to set boundaries on that too -- just dating a poly guy HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018606

does not make me their relationship therapist, and it doesn't make me best friends with his other girlfriends (or boyfriends, for that matter). I am responsible for what I do, but I'm not responsible for what he does. I am responsible for how I treat his spouse, but I can't be responsible for how he treats his spouse. But what if I'm already friends with someone, and one of my partners gets involved with that person? Do I have special responsibilities in that case? I'm still figuring that one out. 2. When is it actually the best time to start talking about polyamory and setting out relationship definitions? My approach so far has been to put poly on the table during initial conversations, and then talk about it more when the topic of the relationship comes up. But I've been thinking lately that I probably should go into more detail sooner, because people have such different stereotypes of open relationships that I can't be sure they're on board with what I'm talking about unless we've discussed polyamory in-depth. I feel like I talk to a lot of people who think they want a supposedly "polyamorous” relationship because they see it as a no-strings-attached free-for-all, and that's definitely not what I want. Or I talk to people who back away from polyamory for the same reason. I see polyamory as being about more commitment to relationship negotiation, not less. I see it as being about setting individual boundaries, if necessary -- it's not about having no boundaries. I see it as being about creating a secure situation for all parties involved -- not making anyone insecure, or ignoring anyone's needs. And being polyamorous doesn't make my relationships unimportant to me. Being in love doesn't seem at odds with polyamory for me. This is a hard thing to communicate in a small dose, though, especially if I'm dealing with someone who has minimal exposure to the concept. On the other hand, having a Serious Conversation about polyamory on the first date is a bit much. 3. Is it a good idea for me to get involved with guys who ultimately want monogamy? As I noted earlier, I might compromise to monogamy eventually, but poly is a priority for me. (Who knows, maybe I'll decide it's my ideal relationship formation again someday. This seems unlikely to me right now, but anything's possible.) But what if I get really into a guy who ultimately plans to be monogamous? Is this a bad call on my part? On the one hand, if I go on a few dates with a 28-year-old guy who doesn't want to get married until his mid-30s but definitely wants a monogamous marriage when he does... I mean, why not have a relationship? On the other hand, I may be setting myself up for heartbreak in such situations, if he basically sees our relationship as "not real” from the start. This brings me to my next point... 4. Some people see polyamory as a sign of commitment-phobia. I've made this mistake myself -- in fact, the "polyamory as commitment-phobia" stereotype is so strong that I've occasionally reversed it and wondered if my desire for it was a sign of commitment-phobia. But the fact is, my appreciation for polyamory only increased as I became more certain about what I'm seeking in a partner, and as I gained more understanding of how to negotiate that. It's come along with relationship confidence and understanding. I feel pretty okay with believing in commitment in the context of polyamory. But my HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018607

potential partners might not be. I already tend towards emotional caginess and am sometimes accused of being way too emotionally controlled -- I'm worried that I'll be read as a "player" (or a "slut") by people who write me off as a result. I'm also worried that some may be attracted to me because they see me as an emotionless player, whether they admit it or not -- indeed, even if they don't admit it to themselves -- and will be annoyed if I turn out not to be that way. Stereotypes and assumptions are tricky to root out whether we're aware of them or not. Some days, I get nervous that the guys who are going to be willing to talk about and process relationships in the depth that I'm looking for, with a degree of acknowledged emotional commitment, are all monogamous. Then I remind myself of how many awesome polyamorous men I know, and also that I'm falling for stereotypes yet again, just by having these fears. 5. Other questions: How open am I to casual relationships that don't seem to be going in an emotional direction, given that I don't have to give up on more serious relationships to have them? How does being poly change breakup dynamics? In the absence of monogamy, are there different signifiers that a relationship is serious -- or is getting serious? How can I get better at both giving and reading those signifiers? What are the other poly stereotypes I've internalized, and how do I act against them? What are the other poly stereotypes I should look out for from others? 6. Sigh. Rereading all my questions and rethinking all my thoughts makes me feel somewhat exhausted. Relationships are hard, and hacking the expected models makes them hopefully more fulfilling... but also so much more complicated. My life seems so weird sometimes; a week doesn't go by that I don't wonder why I'm not getting a nice typical job and settling down with a white picket fence and the monogamous husband and having 2.5 kids. That is not actually what I want, but sometimes the image seems seductively easy. te ok ok This can be found on the Internet at: SEX WORK: [storytime] One Blurred Edge of Sex Work: Portrait of a Sugar Baby HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018608

I published this interview in January 2012 at the gender-lens website RoleReboot.org, where I had just taken on the role of Sex + Relationships Section Editor. Olivia left the business in mid-2012, as you can read in the piece that follows this one. te ok ok One Blurred Edge of Sex Work: Portrait of a Sugar Baby Sex work is a controversial and polarized topic, and there are many perspectives on it. My position is complex -- but for me, when it comes to how we actually interact with sex workers, one important factor is whether or not they consent to and enjoy their jobs. Iam absolutely in favor of giving better options to sex workers who do not enjoy their jobs, and I am horrified by the idea of a person being trafficked or coerced into sex that they don't want to have. But I also know people who have sex for money 100% voluntarily, and I do not want to deny their experience. My friend Olivia, a 25-year-old graduate student, recently started advertising her services ona "Sugar Baby” site called SeekingArrangement.com. I think it's important for more people to understand these kinds of experiences, so I asked to interview her. Many people have pointed out that once a person starts thinking about the definition of "prostitute," it's a bit difficult to define what exactly a prostitute is. Some of my sex worker friends have asked the question: what exactly is the difference between a person whose partner buys her a fancy dinner after which they have sex -- and a person whose partner buys sex with money? Olivia has thought at length about this, and I'm grateful to her for sharing her perspective on that question, and others. Please note that Olivia is exceptionally privileged. What you are about to read is a portrait of what the sex industry looks like for a person who is very privileged: she comes from a white upper-middle-class background, she is not desperate, she is being paid a lot of money, she does not have a drug addiction. Many other peoples’ experiences in the sex industry are very different. Clarisse Thorn: Hey Olivia, thanks so much for being willing to talk about this incredibly complicated topic. Could you start by defining a sugar baby site? What is it? Olivia: I use the site SeekingArrangement.com. I don't actually know how many sugar baby sites there are, but I get the sense there's more than one. It's very hard to pin down exactly what it does. I guess it connects people, usually with a big age gap, who are interested in exchanging some kind of material goods or financial resources for some form of companionship that is often sexual -- but not always. As far as I can tell, the site's founder is very against the claim that this is prostitution. He puts out a lot of publicity claiming that this site has nothing to do with prostitution. At first I thought that he was trying to evade legal consequences, but I think he actually probably believes that. The site has a blog that he controls, and you can look at it to get a sense of what he's thinking. One post I think is really interesting is called "Sugar Baby & Sugar Daddy: The Modern Day Princess & Prince?", which compares being a sugar baby to a kind of "happily ever after" princess fantasy. HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018609

So far, no one I've talked to seems remotely interested in hiring what they see as a "prostitute." They seem to want to be having sex with someone they find very attractive who is also someone they feel like they can respect, whose intelligence they respect. For example, someone I see occasionally -- the last time I saw him, he gave me money at the end and he said that he felt good about giving me the money because he knew I wouldn't spend it on, quote, "a designer handbag." He seems to think that I am reasonably ambitious and have my shit together, and he seems to feel more comfortable giving me money because he knows it goes towards my grad school costs and credit card debt. My ability to write with proper grammar, without overusing emoticons, appears to be my biggest sales point. Men have told me this outright. That guy also mentioned feeling more comfortable because he thinks I'm from the same social class as he is. There are a lot of class issues coming up in these encounters, I think. Being white and from an upper-middle-class background may help me get clients. My background has also given me a ton of confidence that puts me at an advantage when negotiating. I do not think I radiate "take advantage of me," and I (nicely) tell guys who start doing that to go away. The guy I was just talking about -- he also mentioned that he feels like he doesn't want to have sex with someone that he doesn't feel at least a little bit connected to. There's a distinction between meaningless sex and casual sex. I think these guys want casual sex -- maybe they aren't at the point where they want to deal with having a partner, or they're really busy at work, or they already have another partner -- they want casual sex but not meaningless sex. In my encounters with these men, the money does two things. Firstly, it enables them to have a relationship with me that they wouldn't otherwise be able to have. Secondly, it puts them in this position where they can give me something valuable and have that be appreciated. The guys I see really want to feel appreciated. Clarisse Thorn: Do you feel like this has given you any new insight into gender roles? Olivia: Hmm.... It's made me feel more powerful. I definitely feel like I am the one with the power in this situation. When I show up, I don't feel like -- here is this rich, powerful person who is about to bestow wealth upon me. I feel like -- here is this person who is a bit sad and lonely, and maybe I can make their day better. A lot of the men who are on this site want to feel appreciated, so it's important to them that the woman they're with give off the appearance of appreciating them. So for example, on the website there's a lot of talk about sugar daddies being "mentors" or “benefactors” rather than clients. They seem to want some combination of me asking them about their day, and they also want to feel like they're bestowing knowledge upon me about the world. One of the men I see will always talk about his opinions about money. He has complicated feelings about himself having money because he doesn't come from money, so he's trying to work those out. But he also keeps telling me in a very serious voice that money will not make me happy, that nothing I can buy will make me happy. I tell him that I can buy security and he says yes, that is one thing I can buy. HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018610

Other men seem to be having issues with their age. One mentioned that he's just turned 40, and that's really bugging him. Then he flaked out on me a couple times -- I don't think he was completely okay with his own decision to be seeing me. But anyway, often, another thing these men seem to get out of it is access to someone who has a bunch of youthful energy and optimism and just plain new ideas. A lot of them have mentioned feeling stuck, or bored, or cynical, or intellectually constrained. So in this sense sex is only one thing I'm offering them -- I'm also offering them optimism, hope, energy, and so on. Firstly, the sex is good in and of itself, as most of them aren't getting laid otherwise. But the sex is also a symbol of them getting access to my youthful energy or whatever. I think the archetypal image of a mistress involves a woman being "kept" so that she doesn't have to work, so that she can be available for sex basically whenever. But I don't think this is what the men I see want. I am more valuable to them because I have other work that I am seriously invested in, and am having sex with them anyway. Again, these men are interested in a woman who they see as more "equal" to them -- in this case, defined by earnings potential -- and they seem gratified by the idea that they could help me enter their income bracket someday. This is, of course, still kind of patronizing; like I said, they keep using words like "mentor." It's also presumptuous. But I think a lot of them being patronizing and presumptuous can probably be attributed to age and wealth, and only some of it to gender. I think I've learned more about class and money than I have about gender. It turns out there are people to whom $1,000 versus $3,000 doesn't matter that much, and I finally understand that on a visceral level. $1,000 doesn't mean the same thing to me as it does to most of them. I knew this, but now I really know it. Another thing I've been struck by is exactly how much romantic relationships are worth. I've had several clients tell me they don't feel wealthy, and they feel like they worry about money a lot. I think they were sincere. Of course, my first thought was: don't you think that your $2,000-per-month prostitute is part of the budget that could be trimmed? But I think that maybe it's not, actually. I think they think that investing a lot of money in me is a good investment for them if it gives them a release valve so they can deal with the rest of their lives. They're probably right. Clarisse Thorn: You mentioned that you feel powerful in your relationships with these men. But there are issues of your safety, right? Olivia: I think there are issues of safety anytime a person meets someone they don't really know, especially if they plan to spend time in private. And especially if you're dealing with topics as sensitive as sex or money. There may be more issues of safety with this because some people really do believe that money can buy them anything. But for the most part, when I meet people they seem very respectful. Things I do to increase my safety are that I tell my husband and my friends where I'm going to be, I tell them exactly where I am. I'll do things like take down a client's license plate number and text it to my husband. I've been thinking maybe I should look at each client's driver's license too, and text the client's name and driver's license number to my husband. I think some clients might feel threatened by that, though. HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018611

The most important thing for my safety is that I'm willing and able to walk away from situations. I'm not desperate -- I won't starve or die if I don't do this work. I meet all my clients in public first for a meal, and if someone sketches me out, I leave. I'm not so desperate that I'll get into a situation that scares me. I guess I am at risk if I meet a really crazy person who wants to chop me up and put me in a dumpster. But I could meet a person like that during a normal night at a bar, too. The major risks that I see include that I might catch an STD -- but I use protection. I might end up alone with someone who believes that the money he's paying actually gives him the entitlement to do whatever he wants to my body, but I've never encountered anyone like that. The thing is, as I said before, I haven't met anyone who I think would actually describe themselves as paying for sex. The terms on which I continue to see these men are probably less explicitly negotiated than an escort's terms would be. I don't have flat rates, for example. I've heard escorts complaining that people who use sugar baby sites are unprofessional, and I think that from an escort's perspective they probably are. Clarisse Thorn: If people are unwilling to actually talk about sex for money, it must be hard to negotiate your encounters. Do you have a set of steps for negotiation? Olivia: I haven't been doing this for very long. It's varied so far. Usually, I meet them for some kind of meal, and we chat. We have a perfunctory conversation, like -- "How was your day?" Then one of us will say something like, "Tell me a bit more about what you're looking for. Why are you on the site?” Then we'll explain our deal to each other. Like, he might say: "I'm divorced, I'm looking for companionship.” At some point, money comes up. I am always extremely vague when I talk about money. I've found a good deal of variation in how squeamish people are about money. For example, one client was saying that he wanted to get married again, but not yet. I said, "Huh, well, if you're interested in a more emotional relationship, how do you feel about involving money?" The way he explained it to me was that people are attracted to each other for all kinds of reasons, probably including money, so why not be up front about the fact that money is attractive. He seemed almost confused about why I asked. With that guy, I ended up sleeping with him before we even talked about money -- which was a huge risk, but I thought it might work, and it did. We had the money conversation immediately after we had sex -- at some point when we were taking a break, I asked what he was looking for more specifically from this relationship, and he said that he wanted to see me again, maybe once a week. I think I asked him his preference for a monthly allowance as opposed to every time we meet, and he said he'd rather do something monthly. Then when we were getting dressed, he pulled out $1,000 cash and handed it to me, and said, "I'll give you the balance next time we see each other.” With other people I can be more straightforward. Maybe they aren't sure how to set up the relationship, so maybe I talk about another client, like: "I have another client I see 3 times per month for $3,000," and they might say, "That sounds good." But some guys will just negotiate it per encounter. One guy brought it up very quickly after we'd HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018612

exchanged some emails. He said that he prefers to do a "per meet" of $300 -- he called it a "per meet" -- I told him that was too low and quoted him $1,000, and he said he'd meet me in the middle. Another guy told me that he would just slip $400 into my purse when he saw me, and that's exactly what he did. I have one client I've never explicitly discussed money with at all. I had lunch with him, and we didn't negotiate anything, though we talked a little bit about our reasons for being on the site. The next time I saw him -- we were deciding where to meet, and he asked if he should get us a room. I said that I would like that, so I met him and we had sex. He knew it was my birthday soon, so as we were getting dressed, he said, "I know we haven't talked about money, so I got you some birthday spending money," and he handed me an envelope with $400. The next time I saw him, he asked about my plans for the evening. I said I was having dinner with a friend, and he handed me $400 in an envelope and said, "Maybe this will help pay for it." I'm lucky that I'm willing to accept $400 -- it's my lower bound, but I'm willing to accept it. Imagine if I hadn't been willing to take $400 -- that would be super awkward. Probably I should have negotiated that situation more clearly, but it worked out okay. I've heard about situations where unclear negotiations did not work out okay. There was a New York Times Magazine article about the site published in 2009. In that article, there were some examples of unclear negotiations that didn't work out well. But it sounded like that woman didn't really know what she wanted, and didn't really enjoy the work. But I do. And I know other women who do, too. I have a new client who paid me $3,000 up front to see me 3 times a month. But I haven't heard from him since our first meeting. If I were his girlfriend, I'd call him, but he asked me not to call him. So I don't really know what the deal with that one is. Maybe he's gonna flake out on me, but he already gave me $3,000, so that would be weird. Clarisse Thorn: So, your husband. You mentioned him briefly. How does your husband feel about this? Olivia: He does not seem particularly threatened. We already have an open relationship. I think he sometimes feels very visceral jealousy, but that's just like any other time one of us has sex with somebody else. We just have to talk about it. Part of the deal here is that I'm doing this because I'm broke. My husband really wants to be able to support me financially, but he can't right now, so I'm supporting both us doing this. I think that's a real blow to his ego. To the extent that he gets bothered, I think it's because I'm allowing other men to support me and give me money; he doesn't care about the sex. Even though I see this as work, he sees this as "here's this rich successful guy who just gave my wife a bunch of money, and she slept with him -- so probably she's attracted to him." I am kind of attracted to my clients, and I kind of get off on making them happy, and I happen to think that the age difference is kind of hot. I like having sex with them; it's not unpleasant. I like hearing about these guys’ life stories. I think it's interesting. But these guys would never be a threat to my husband. I would never be sleeping with any of them except for the money. And I love my husband. I'm always very up front about the fact HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018613

that I'm married and I love my husband. My clients accept that. KOK ok This can be found on the Internet at: http://clarissethorn.com/blog/2012/01/05/one-blurred-edge-of-sex-work-interview-with- a-sugar-baby-part-1/ and SEX WORK: [theory] A Sugar Baby Leaves The Business I published this in 2012; it continues Olivia's story. Thanks again to Olivia for being so incredibly generous with her time and her thoughts. te OK ok A Sugar Baby Leaves The Business Previously on Role/Reboot, we ran an interview with my friend Olivia, a 25-year-old graduate student who had just started having sex for money through a "sugar baby” website called SeekingArrangement.com. In the interview, Olivia covered a lot of topics. She mentioned that she usually feels powerful in her relationships with her clients. As she put it, "When I show up, I don't feel like -- here is this rich, powerful person who is about to bestow wealth upon me. I feel like -- here is this person who is a bit sad and lonely, and maybe I can make their day better." Olivia also noted that her negotiations can be delicate, because some men are quite squeamish while talking about money. And she explained that she’s married -- but it was already an open relationship, and she doesn't see having sex for money as different from the other kinds of sex that she and her husband were already having with other people. To deal with it, they're sure to communicate clearly. As Olivia said, "We just have to talk about it.” In the months since that interview, Olivia and I have hung out occasionally to talk about her experience with sex work. She's traveled across the city to meet me, and often bought me coffee; non-judgmental social support for sex workers can be rare, and I've seen more of her since she started the job. Although she really enjoyed the work at first, there were tough times too, especially after the novelty wore off. Recently, Olivia decided to stop seeing clients. We talked it through and she gave me permission to write about it. (She also reviewed this article pre-publication.) Obviously, there were logistical complexities from the beginning. Taxes were a HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018614

nightmare. Olivia wanted to pay them, but it's not the easiest proposition. Then there was the question of paying off her debts. Some were simple enough, but then there were loans co-signed by her parents, and there was no way she could make any headway on those loans without talking to her parents... so Olivia had to maintain the fiction that she couldn't pay. That was nothing compared to the complexities of feelings and communication, though. I've already shown you how hard it was, sometimes, for Olivia to talk about money with her clients. There are other, subtler problems that are hard to handle with empathy: for example, creating the Girlfriend Experience persona. I've talked to sex workers who enjoy creating a "sexy dreamgirl shell" on behalf of their clients. One of them said to me: "I create that persona for my boyfriends anyway. It's nice to be paid for it." But as a feminist sex writer who's spent years working to understand my own sexual authenticity, this freaks me out a bit. I think it would feel terribly toxic and inauthentic for me. It often felt inauthentic to Olivia, for sure, and that got harder and harder. "These men are very invested in believing that I'm super into this," she told me once. "I have to keep up the front, and make them feel like I'm interested all the time. It's literally my job to do that. When they tell me how happy I am, or when they inform me that I'm enjoying myself, I can't really contradict them, even if it's not true. Some of them use words like ‘magical’ to describe me, but the person they're describing is not really me. Sometimes I think these guys pay me because in a non-professional relationship, a woman might push back when he says those things. She might contradict his idea of her too much." In fairness, Olivia naturally fits one glam stereotype of the middle-class sex worker: the sexually adventurous young student. It's such a widely-promoted stereotype that experienced sex worker activists speak derisively about it, and some escorts lie and say that they fit the profile when they don't. Presumably, clients enjoy believing that a girl is a sexually adventurous college student because it capitalizes on images of "sexy coeds” -- and convinces the client that she's not being emotionally harmed by the work. (I've often thought that it's way past time for "fair trade prostitution," where sex trade ethics are made into a competitive advantage. I've also thought that the most feminist thing I could ever do would be to open a brothel where all the sex workers are treated well. Too bad it's illegal.) Of course, SeekingArrangement.com actively encourages the idea that a "real relationship" can emerge from these arrangements. (In our previous interview, Olivia pointed out the SeekingArrangement blog post "Sugar Baby & Sugar Daddy: The Modern Day Princess & Prince?" Another interesting one is called "Sugar Babies Do Fall In Love.") While some guys on the site really do just want to pay for straight-up sex, some become emotionally invested in the women whose company they buy. And we can tell from Olivia's experiences negotiating payment that a lot of guys don't like thinking about how they're paying for it. Bottom line: more than one of Olivia's clients were into her for real, and she felt more and more uncomfortable about it as time passed. One man took a surreptitious photo of her and hung it on the center of his otherwise-bare refrigerator. Another client made faux- HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018615

offhand wistful comments such as, "If you weren't already married, haha....” Olivia asked my advice on one of these guys, who was clearly falling in love with her from the start. She mentioned that she'd already talked to another sex worker about it. The other worker's reaction was, essentially, "What problem?" As Olivia put it: "She told me that the guy is basically a locked-in regular now, so what am I so bothered about?" But after a while, Olivia couldn't take how guilty and anxious she felt around this guy, what with the feelings she couldn't return. She stopped responding to his messages, but didn't tell him clearly that it was over because trying to phrase the email felt so awful. "I was so unprofessional about it," she said. "In the end, he sent me this incredibly sweet note asking what he'd done to hurt me so badly. So my husband helped me write a 'it's not you, it's me’ breakup email. I still feel bad.” Another facet of emotional difficulty arose when Olivia's husband started taking a medication that decreased his libido. This put the couple in the odd position of Olivia having sex with other men, but not her husband -- with her husband's full knowledge and consent. Although her husband tried to reassure her, she began feeling less secure and stable at home. And sex work is stressful enough that home security can really, really matter. Indeed, at one point Olivia mentioned: "One of my friends is tempted to get into sex work. But she says she doesn't think she can deal with it, emotionally, unless she has a partner at home who loves her and will back her up. So I'm not supposed to let her have sex for money until she's in a good solid relationship.” Finally, as Olivia fielded other life stresses, she flatly realized that she couldn't have anything extra going on. What with all the above conversations, we saw signs that the change was coming, but when it arrived it was both sudden and intense. "One day I just knew I had to stop,” she told me. "It's bad, because we're behind on rent now, but I had to stop. My husband pointed out, gently, that we need the money. But of course he accepted it when I said I was done. Anyway, I managed to line up a good temp job, so we're okay for now." I tried to show in the original interview that Olivia is very privileged compared to most sex workers. She's got race privilege for her whiteness, class privilege from her background; she's pretty and young and "valuable," and has tons of education to boot. She doesn't have a drug habit or some other truly debilitating issue. Although she's under some financial stress, she's not desperate. And that leads me to this question: If even a woman like Olivia -- who was well-treated and made a lot of money and didn't feel trapped; whose life sounded like the glam fantasy of today's high-end call girl -- if even a woman like Olivia eventually needed a break from sex for money, then what could this imply about the experience of less privileged women? I've got a bunch of sex worker friends, and I would never say that a woman can't be a 100% consenting adult sex worker who enjoys her job. But what I'm trying to get at, here, is that even on the "high end,” sex work can be incredibly demanding. Even when sex work is as pleasant as it possibly can be, it's often very hard. I'd like to see more conversations that acknowledge the reality of sex work as HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018616

emotionally intense and challenging, a job that can be bad for many people at many times in their lives -- without letting go of the fact that some people can and do freely consent to the job. (The sex worker Mistress Matisse has written a fair bit on sex work and emotional labor. And male sex workers don't always have an easy time; the porn star Tyler Knight has written about some of his more difficult moments, too.) The point is not "sex work is bad and should be banned" -- but nor is it "sex work is glamorous and fun!" The point is, sex work is often hard work, even for people who are not mistreated or abused. As such, it deserves both respect (from outsiders) and open- eyed caution (from those who consider taking it up). Olivia's not sure she's done with sex work for good. "The door is still open for future involvement,” she told me, last time we met for coffee. "If I do go back, I think I may try for straight-up escorting, but I'm not really sure...." Presumably, working as an escort rather than being a "sugar baby" might evade some of these confusing, strangely- negotiated situations. Would it evade all of them? It's hard to say. Regardless, I wish her luck. TK OK ok After June 1, 2012, this can be found on the Internet at: http://clarissethorn.com/blog/2012/06/01/a-sugar-baby-leaves-the-business/ Section 2 Study Guide This section was intended mostly to highlight various "other" perspectives that I feel are significant to sex and/or activism. te ok ok 1. Do you see your sexual identity as placing you in a community, or is it more private? Or is it a little bit of both? la. If you identify as part of a sex community, then are there ways you can contribute to that community? (For example, if you had evidence that abusive relationships were a problem in your community, what could you do about it?) KOK ok 2. What kind of educational needs do you perceive around sexuality? Is there a way you could contribute to positive sex education? 2a. Does your community have specific or unique needs around sex education? 2b. If you have children, how do you plan to educate them about sex? Specifically, how do you plan to tell them about the stereotypes and limitations affecting the different HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018617

groups described in this section? KOK ok 3. How do you look out for and support other members of your community, especially when it comes to sex? KK Ok 4. What lessons from your sexuality do you think are applicable to people who don't share your sexual tastes? 4a. Are there pieces from this section that feel relevant to you, even if they aren't talking about your experience or preferences? te ok ok 5. What are the overarching patterns that you see within the pieces in this section? How are these disparate topics relevant to each other? Sa. If some of these pieces are about people you have trouble relating to, then can you think of ways you could relate better to those people? KK ok SECTION 3: Making It Complicated In which we really get into it. KOKO When I think of this section, I think of: People's ability to understand their own emotional and physical experiences and sensations is limited by what is safe to ask or know, what systems of interpretation they have received for screening that raw material, and whether they find it possible to connect with anyone who thinks differently about these matters. ~ Pat Califia RELATIONSHIPS: [storytime] Chemistry HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018618

I wrote this in late 2011, while I was finishing up the first draft of my awesome book Confessions of a Pickup Artist Chaser. / was still processing a lot of stuff I'd learned about pickup artist tactics and pickup artist attitudes, and that's reflected in this piece. But there's a lot more to it, from working out some stuff about polyamory to my feelings about marriage. A lot of these thoughts are developed further in Confessions. KK ok Chemistry It's a long story and a short one, but I guess all of them are. I'm 27. It's about that age: A lot of my compatriots are getting married lately -- most monogamously, some to a primary polyamorous partner. I myself have a stack of relationships in my past. Some were monogamous, some polyamorous. Some have been on-and-off, some short-term, some long-term (5 or 6 years was the longest). Lately I've been processing some tough questions about polyamory, but I'd like to stick with it. And I've been thinking a lot about what I want in a primary polyamorous partner. The kind of guy I could marry. I wonder if I'll ever get to that point. I wonder if I'd know him if I saw him. te OK ok I met Mr. Ambition at one of the aforementioned weddings. Several people recommended that I talk to him, and we liked each other right away. Mutual friends used words like "zealot" to describe him; let's just say he's got an intense history of dedicated activism. Charisma, integrity, and pure energy pour off him. His words are almost always articulate and challenging. He can socially dominate a room without thinking. He works a challenging job ten hours per day; exercises two hours; socializes several hours; sleeps and eats when he can. He gives hugs easily, laughs easily, hands out compliments like candy. Mr. Ambition is most definitely not a neutral personality. Of course, neither am I. At the time, I was just coming out of the worst stage of my research on pickup artists -- a subculture of men who trade tips on how to seduce women. Also, I'd just had one of those breakups where I was too busy feeling stupid to properly understand how hurt I was. (Don't you hate those?) You can read all about those Dramatic Events in my upcoming book Confessions of a Pickup Artist Chaser. In the meantime, suffice to say that I felt... flattened. Arguably, I should have had a sign taped to my forehead that read: "Emotionally Unavailable." I went to dinner with Mr. Ambition later that week. At the end of the meal, he sat back and looked at me. "You're so authentic," he said. "I haven't felt very authentic lately," I said frankly, but his words felt good. Like a balm. Like I was healing. HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018619

We got along excellently, had a lot in common, etc. Typical this-relationship-starts-well stuff. One evening, after we'd been out to eat in a big philosophical group, Mr. Ambition noted the hotness of my intense theoretical bent. "When you were discussing social Justice and ethics tonight,” he said, "I wanted to reach across the table and grab you.” He mentioned marriage within weeks. "This has never happened before," he told me. "I've never dated someone I thought I could actually marry." Whoa, tiger, I thought, but I had to admit that he hit a lot of my Ideal Characteristics as well. Intelligence, drive, charisma, and morality: it's hard to argue with that. Our sexual chemistry was okay, but not climb-the-walls stellar. We'll develop that, I told myself. He's less sexually experienced than I am, and we'll learn each other just fine. Fortunately he's got some experience with polyamory, but in terms of S&M, he's another of those vanilla-but-questioning guys (I never learn). When we did S&M, I had to monitor the situation extra carefully because it was so new to him. And for all his intelligence, it was really hard to talk to him about emotions. It wasn't that he was cold or distant; on the contrary, he's one of the most fiery people I've ever met. But he had a lot of difficulty explaining what was going on in his head. Indeed, he told me that he had a lot of difficulty knowing what was going on in his head. He did things like laugh when a friend hurt his feelings, then deny that he was hurt, even though I could plainly see the stricken look behind his eyes. I wasn't surprised that he was more physical than verbal about S&M. Very straightforward: throwing me around, pulling my head back, digging his hands into my skin. He's incredibly strong, and sometimes I called my safeword simply because his strength scared me. There was one particular S&M encounter... early in the evening, I called my safeword because I wasn't sure he was into it. "Red," I said, and he stopped. "Is this okay with you?" I asked, and he nodded. "Yes," he said. "This is good. Let's keep going." His voice was low and slightly rough; a marvel of certainty. He put his hands back on me instantly. My doubts disappeared. We kept going. I watched my body, felt the lump building in my throat, monitored my breath as it became harsh and fast. "Red,” I said, and he stopped. "You're going to break me," I said, "I'm going to cry. If you don't want to deal with that, then stop.” This, by the way, is a difficult skill that I have learned: this ability to track my S&M reactions so clearly. I would never have been able to do it seven years ago, and I still can't do it during complicated S&M encounters. But now I can do it during simple ones. (Yes, "simple" and "complicated" are in the eye of the beholder.) I really hate stopping an S&M encounter right when I'm on the verge of tears. It's worse than an interrupted orgasm. But I'd rather do that than break down crying and then deal with a horrified partner. "That's fine," said Mr. Ambition. So we kept going. I cried. He started talking, and I was HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018620

surprised by how harsh his words could be. That's more like it, | thought. Some S&M encounters have a rhythm to them, a poetry: a beginning and an end that become clear to the participants as they go along. This one didn't -- at least not to me. So I didn't rely on him to bring it to a close. After a while, I safeworded out, and took a breath to still my tears. Mr. Ambition was quiet again. I was having trouble reading him. There was some energy caught inside him, coiled like a dragon, but I couldn't tell if it was violence or something else. I put a halt to my own emotional cycle and tried to focus on him. "How are you feeling?" I asked, but he couldn't tell me. I asked a few more questions, and he just couldn't answer. He just didn't know. I never got another word from him on how he felt about that encounter. I wondered if I was being too careful in how I asked about it; I wondered if he wanted me to push harder; I wondered if I'd already pushed him too far. I suspected there were some dramatic feelings trapped in Mr. Ambition. But I wasn't sure I currently had the warmth to coax them out. te Ok ok In the past, I've fallen in love so hard that I felt like the world was black-and-white when I was away from my lover; I felt like I only saw color when I was with him. I have dated men where the chemistry was so intense, so obvious, that it hung in the air between us like smoke. I've had sex that felt like telepathy. It's pretty awesome when it works. And it's easier to get that with some people than with others: some guys, I meet them and it's like we speak the same language already. With some guys, it's not instant, but it also doesn't take long to build our mutual vocabulary. And then I've dated guys where the learning curve -- both sexually and temperamentally -- was much longer. It was less instinctive. But it was not impossible. So I know for a fact that people can build chemistry. Sometimes it's just there, but sometimes you can create it. My relationship with Mr. Ambition was definitely polyamorous, but a few weeks in, I decided I was really into him... and I started managing my incentives. There was another guy I saw occasionally, with whom I had stronger instinctive chemistry. This other guy agreed with me that we didn't want a Big Important Relationship. This other guy will screw up my incentives if I hang out with him too much, I thought, and I limited my time with him. I set rules with myself: I didn't call him, I didn't text him. I knew: /fJ let myself get too intensely into this other guy, that could inhibit my ability to bond with Mr. Ambition. I told the other guy that once my relationship with Mr. Ambition was more stable, we might be able to pursue something more intense. By the time we had the conversation, he said he'd already been thinking similar thoughts. That he didn't want to distract me from something that could be beautiful. HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018621

Similarly, there are one or two men in my life that I'm attracted to but don't want a sexual connection with at all. So I try not to see them unless I feel inoculated: I don't hang out with them unless I'm sure I can distract myself with my feelings about another man. A lot of polyamorists say that "love is infinite,” that we can love lots of people, etc. I agree with this in theory -- but there's also a polyamorous saying that "While love may be infinite, time is not." And hormones aren't infinite, either. I've learned my hormonal reactions, I've seen myself get imprinted by people... I've seen myself develop feelings and fantasies for one guy that made me 100% immune to another hot guy's charms. Do I have perfect self-control? Absolutely not. That's why I'm trying to influence my own choices so carefully. I know that choice plays a huge role when we build relationships. Choosing to commit is arguably as big a relationship factor as instinctive chemistry. ... Arguably. te OK ok When I first got to college many moons ago, my roommate came from a family of immigrants with a tradition of arranged marriages. She and I stayed up late one night, perched on our dorm room mattresses, and I listened in fascination while she told me that her father wanted her to marry a man of her father's choice, rather than her own. "I'm not sure whether I'll do it," she said. I watched her wave a hand airily. I was mesmerized by her casual acceptance of a custom that struck me as barbaric. "I mean," she said, "I'm cool with this guy that my dad's found for me. But I don't know if we're that cool. On the other hand, I can't deny the advantages of arranged marriages.” "Advantages!" I cried. I was so young... (Okay, I'm still young.) "What do you mean, advantages?!" "Arranged marriages are more stable," she said. "Much more stable. I'm not sure I'd ever want to marry for love. That shit goes up in smoke.” From what I understand, there have even been studies about this: that people in arranged marriages report being quite happy, quite stable. I've gotten the it's-not-passion-that-makes-a-successful-marriage message before, of course -- often from super-white, super-American Americans. For example, there's that infamous 2008 article "Marry Him: The Case For Settling For Mr. Good Enough." The article is sure to send any woman roughly my age into a panic. It's made enough of an impression that I still have conversations about it with other women my age -- almost four years after its debut. I don't like the Settling writer's attitude. She's written with horror and anger about S&M in other venues, for example; and the whole Settling article has a generally conservative bent. But she's articulating some real feelings and important thoughts, and while I don't agree with all of them, I do agree with some. At one point, analyzing television, she notes that: While Rachel and her supposed soul mate, Ross, finally get together (for the umpteenth time) in the finale of Friends, do we feel confident that she'll be happier with Ross than HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018622

she would have been had she settled down with Barry, the orthodontist, 10 years earlier? She and Ross have passion but have never had long-term stability, and the fireworks she experiences with him but not with Barry might actually turn out to be a liability, given how many times their relationship has already gone up in flames. It's equally questionable whether Sex and the City's Carrie Bradshaw, who cheated on her kindhearted and generous boyfriend, Aidan, only to end up with the more exciting but self-absorbed Mr. Big, will be better off in the framework of marriage and family. (Some time after the breakup, when Carrie ran into Aidan on the street, he was carrying his infant in a Baby Bjorn. Can anyone imagine Mr. Big walking around with a Bjorn?) I've never watched Friends or Sex and the City, but I know the feeling. Personally, I'm more of a novel girl. The other day, I found myself thinking of my long- ago roommate and her thoughts on arranged marriage while I read Monica Ali's beautiful book Brick Lane. Monica Ali is an immigrant to the United Kingdom, and the characters in her novel all come to the UK from Bangladesh. Some of the characters accept traditional arranged marriages, while others make "love marriages" instead -- often defying their parents, their whole set of cultural norms, to do so. Towards the end of the novel, one man reflects on the early days of his marriage: We thought that the love would never run out. It was like a magic rice sack that you could keep scooping into and never get to the bottom. It was a "love" marriage, you See. What I did not know -- I was a young man -- is that there are two kinds of love. The kind that starts off big and slowly wears away, that seems you can never use it up and then one day is finished. And the kind that you don't notice at first, but which adds a little bit to itself every day, like an oyster makes a pearl, grain by grain, a jewel from the sand. As you can tell, this character is currently unhappy in his "love marriage.” Of course, the grass is always greener on the other side. What's the difference between the big love and the pearl love? Can they even be compared? Is it like apples to oranges? But couldn't all this be a false dichotomy? Who says it's about arrangement versus randomness -- chemistry versus choice? Can we have both? Can we find the big love, and nurture that so it develops into the pearl love, too? My ultimate conclusion about the Art and Science of Flirting, from my "studies" of pickup artists and also my entire life, is that flirting is all about strategic ambiguity. Deliberate uncertainty. Manipulating ambiguity and uncertainty can contribute to many intense feelings. Some people learn this, and decide that the only way to have a relationship with chemistry is to include a constant generous dollop of uncertainty about love, loyalty, or something equally important. These people decide chemistry can only derive from little pieces of confusion: tiny mismatches that lodge underneath the similarities that bring people together, constantly unsettling, like a prickly burr. But I don't think that's what I want. And after all, S&M creates extraordinary feelings too, but plenty of people do S&M in very controlled circumstances: pre-discussed, with safewords and so on. Arguably, S&M is another form of mismatch, of contrast, of uncertainty -- but it's a form that can be HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018623

managed. So I know all about creating intense uncertain feelings in controlled circumstances, and using those to contribute to stable and reliable loving relationships. Don't I? Eventually, my college roommate caused a gigantic blowup in her family by rejecting arranged marriage. Her father didn't speak to her for a long, long time. ok oe On my birthday, Mr. Ambition took me out to dinner. Then we went to watch fireflies by the lake. As was inevitable for summer in Chicago, we ran into lots of people we knew. One of those groups contained an on-again-off-again partner of mine: Richard, with whom I have... shall we say, a complicated history. I respect Richard a lot, and I like him, and I'm highly attracted to him... but I'm pathologically wary of him for reasons that will become obvious. We greeted our friends. "How are you doing?” Richard asked. "Happy birthday to me, asshole," I teased. "How could you forget?” Richard sighed. "Jeez," he said, "sorry I neglected to wish you a happy birthday within, like, the first 15 seconds I saw you.” I paused, and took a moment to recalibrate: he wasn't reacting in his usual adversarial, teasing-back manner. On the other hand, history has taught me not to fall for it when Richard seems unexpectedly vulnerable. "I'm sorry," I said. I kept my tone light-hearted, friendly. "You know I love you, right?" "Do I?" Richard asked. I tilted my head at him. Without thinking, I kissed my own fingers, then put my hand gently against his face, as if I were about to stroke his cheek. Or slap him. I guess it was a way of distancing myself and kissing him at the same time. I think he understood that I intended it as an uncertain-but-intimate gesture. But I'm never sure, with Richard. "Call me,” I said. "No," Richard said. "You call me.” Hours later, Mr. Ambition brought him up. We were having one of those sweet, intimate, disjointed bedtime conversations. Mr. Ambition was lying back, half-covered by a sheet, and I was admiring the play of light on his chest. "Richard really cares about you," he said. I stiffened, and sat up. "Maybe," I said. "But I can't trust Richard." "His tone seemed wistful, when he saw you." "I can't trust Richard," I repeated. "It's always a game with him. Sometimes I think that we have a real emotional connection, but if I try to talk about it or give him emotional feedback, he just ignores me." "Maybe he isn't really ignoring you,” argued Mr. Ambition. "Maybe every time you say HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018624

something, or give a little, it makes a tiny bit of difference. Maybe you just have to stay open. Keep trying. These things build up.” "You don't understand,” I snapped. "You don't know him! Maybe he really cares, but even if he does, it doesn't matter! Things always end up the same. If I mention emotions, or if I act warm to him, he'll ignore me for a while... and then he'll be cold to me again. I'm telling you, I've been here before, with Richard. It's a trap.” Mr. Ambition didn't waver. "If you're strong enough," he said simply, "then you can walk into a trap.” His words made my heart crack, my breath catch. Made me feel like I've forgotten everything I knew about love. When I was younger, I thought of my emotional strength like water: an embrace that could make someone I loved feel lighter. Water is a slow, eroding force that pulls beauty from the unexpected. Water makes wood into twisted driftwood sculptures; sharp glass into opaque dim jewels; rocks into soft sand. Water will eventually reveal the heart of everything it touches. If you let it. I hadn't thought of myself that way in a long time. I felt like Mr. Ambition was calling me out, reminding me of who I wanted to be. Maybe I protect myself better, these days. But vulnerability is not always a bad thing. I definitely could fall in love with this man, I realized. "You're really amazing," I said, and threw myself on his chest. He put his arms around me. "So are you," he said. TK OK ok As a storyteller, I often look back on my relationships and pick out foreshadowing: the omens. And by now, I recognize the omens even as they're happening... and sometimes I change my behavior, but usually I don't. Perhaps this state is what they call maturity. One night while we were out, Mr. Ambition sighed in an offhand way. He seemed tired, out of sorts. "I just want someone to take me on an emotional journey,” he remarked to me. Then he added, "... No offense.” I mentioned this to a friend, later: "Mr. Ambition says he wants me to take him on an emotional journey,” I said. "An 'emotional journey’? That shit gets old, though," said my friend. I laughed, and agreed with him. Another night, Mr. Ambition mentioned something about enjoying drama. I was with my best girlfriend at the time; she and I looked at each other. "Careful what you wish for," I said. My friend said, "Yeah, I'm pretty sure Clarisse knows how to create arbitrary amounts of drama at any time.” HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018625

"But I'm pretty sure I don't want to," I said. Later, when Mr. Ambition mentioned that he doesn't usually know how he's feeling, he added: "My friends can often tell more about my own emotions than I can." "So you basically outsource your emotional processing to your friends?" I asked. He agreed. Perhaps the worst omen was when Mr. Ambition told me, "I've never been hurt by love." "Never?" I asked. "Never," he said. His certainty was so great that, in itself, it made me uneasy. Because I have definitely been hurt by love. And my greatest wounds were dealt by men who seemed sure they loved me. A man who seems sure might actually be sure, but he may simply fail to understand himself... So these days, it's always men who seem certain that make me most uncertain. There's another great quotation from that Monica Ali novel, Brick Lane. Here it is: "The thing about getting older is you don't need everything to be possible anymore, you just need some things to be certain.” TK OK ok I often felt like I was watching the relationship from a distance. I tried to resist thinking of our relationship using cold, manipulative pickup artist terminology and tactics, but sometimes I couldn't stop myself. I'd rather not talk about that. I found more and more ways to manage my incentives. I noticed that one of my methods was telling friends and parents that I liked Mr. Ambition a whole lot. I think it was even true. Most of all, I told myself that the lack of natural chemistry was a good thing, and not a bad thing; the lack of natural chemistry was why this relationship could last. I was quite calculating about it, really, and maybe that was why he broke up with me. On the bright side, I kept my head during the breakup, which was nice, because I didn't keep my head during my last breakup. With Mr. Ambition, I didn't feel like my self-control slipped at all. "We need to talk," Mr. Ambition said without preamble, when I met him in the foyer of his apartment building. "I'm having some concerns about our relationship." Once we were in his apartment, he said, "To be honest, I don't know how attracted I am to you.” I tried to measure his mien. I got the feeling, again, that energy was coiled tightly inside him. Like a dragon. "Are you breaking up with me?" I asked. "We're just having a conversation,” he said quickly. We talked about sex for a while. Chemistry. "I don't think I like S&M, to be honest," he said. "I don't feel affected by it.” HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018626

I thought: Are you sure? and You definitely looked affected by it, but it's both unethical and unwise to question someone else's experience. So I just said, "You know I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do. Have you felt pressured by me?” "No, of course not,” he said. We talked some more. He ultimately said, "Look, are you totally satisfied with the sex we're having?” "I mean..." I said. "It's not the most intense sex I've ever had, but it'll keep getting better." "I think we should just be friends,” he said. "_.. Okay," I said. "Um. Is there anything else you want to talk about?” Mr. Ambition seemed agitated. He seemed barely able to hold still. "I've never dated anyone that I respected like I respect you,” he said. "Your charisma, your intelligence, your morality. But... I don't know. I don't feel like we're very authentic with each other. I don't feel like there's much warmth between us.” Maybe you're right, | thought. But either way, it's too late now. "Okay," I said. I thought for a moment. "I'm sorry,” I added. "I really wanted this to work out." For a moment, tears startled my eyes, but I blinked them back. "Are you all right?” he asked. He leaned forward. "Is there anything I can do for you?” I looked at him and tried to think. I knew I was going to be very upset in maybe fifteen minutes. He seemed hurt, and I wanted to say something that would comfort him. I wondered if he wanted me to cry, and beg, and create drama; I wouldn't do that... but maybe it would help if I asked for something simple. But I couldn't come up with anything, and I wanted to leave. So after a pause, I said, "You can let me go home and cry." I said it as gently as I could. But Mr. Ambition seemed terribly distressed. "Ohhh," he said, and screwed up his face. He leapt to his feet. "I'm sorry," he said. "It's okay," I said. "Is there anything else?” "Sometimes I think men just aren't capable of the kind of commitment women are," Mr. Ambition said. He sounded defensive, even though I hadn't made any accusations. "Then again, you're not like most women.... You're kind of a hardass. You probably have this problem with a lot of the men you date, where you come across as kind of a hardass.... And to be honest, I don't think men really want to date women as smart as they are." Jesus, I thought, you already broke up with me; can't you just let me go? Why do you have to rip into me like this? | wondered how much of what he was saying was about me, and how much was him trying to make sense of his own feelings. But even though I felt sure that he was confused, his words sent an icy spike straight through me. "J don't think men really want to date women as smart as they are...." "I've worked really hard to become less argumentative," I said. "You should have seen me when I was a teenager.... I don't know if I can tone myself down any more than I HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018627

already do." Even as I said it, I wondered why I was still talking to a guy who'd just said that men don't want to date women as smart as they are. | felt like a bad feminist. "Oh, you shouldn't tone yourself down!" said Mr. Ambition. "It makes you attractive... Attractive intellectually, I mean." I sighed. "Yes," I said. "Intellectually.” "I'm sorry,” he said again. "I'm going home," I said. "We're still friends, right?” he asked. "Yes, but give me some time to get over this," I said. "Probably about a month.” "What do you mean?" He came after me as I walked to the door. "Like, you don't want to see me at all for a month? You don't want me to call you, or reach out to you, or anything?" I looked at him, again, for a long moment. I regretted his stricken expression. Again, I spoke as gently as I could. "Maybe in a month." He offered me a ride, which I declined. My fifteen-minute estimate was almost on target: twenty minutes later, I stepped into my bedroom, leaned back against my door and burst into tears. te Kk ok I ran into Richard the next evening, and we spent the night together. Richard put a fair amount of effort into convincing me to talk to Mr. Ambition. "It sounds like he didn't actually mean to break up with you," said Richard. "It sounds like the conversation got away from him. He didn't start that conversation intending to break up with you; maybe he was looking for reassurance, and you approached his questions too logically, and he concluded that you don't care. You really like him. It seems like it's worth trying to make it work." You may have noticed that both of these men tried hard to convince me that the other man cared about me. I decline to analyze what that means about me and my current approach to relationships. However, I will say that I tried giving Richard more emotional feedback than I have in a long time; I even told him I missed him the next time he went on vacation. And I did try talking to Mr. Ambition again, and he acknowledged that he hadn't exactly intended to break up with me. But then Mr. Ambition and I had several of those encounters that I think of as "post- breakup talks." I hate that shit. Every evening ended on a confusing, inconclusive note. He kept saying that he was "confidently ambiguous." We weren't dating, we weren't not dating. It reminded me of a phase I went through with a college ex-boyfriend, back in my monogamous days: my ex and I spent several weeks post-breakup being "exclusive but not together." So preposterous. People are so broken. HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018628

Mr. Ambition himself has described uncertainty as an "emotional amplifier"... but sometimes it amplifies in the wrong direction. After a week or so, I got fed up and cut things off. He asked when we would talk again, and I told him I didn't want to talk for a while. A few days later, I broke my neck in a bicycle accident. It's like a goddamn soap opera, isn't it? Sometimes I can't believe this stuff happens to me. TK OK ok Mr. Ambition showed up in my hospital room while no one else was around. I was no longer afraid that I might die, but I was leaden with morphine, and anxious. I awaited the neurosurgeons who would come install a big scary spinal brace, and I felt grateful and glad to see Mr. Ambition. I hadn't been certain he would come, although if he'd had such an accident, I would have moved Heaven and earth to go see him. "I came as soon as our friends told me," he said. "There are so many people who love you." He said my name, and spoke softly, and the words bruised my heart. "Thank you," I said inadequately. "I had to skip out on work to get here," he said, and sat next to my bed. "We're in the middle of important negotiations. A billion-dollar deal.” "I'm sorry,” I said. "Maybe you shouldn't have come.” He laughed. "Don't you think you're worth a billion dollars?” "Probably not," I said. He took my hand. "Is there anything I can get you?" he asked. I wasn't allowed to eat or drink before the surgery. "Tell me a story,” I requested. Mr. Ambition retold a story from Dostoevsky's The Idiot. It was about a big-hearted man who comes to a small community and befriends an outcast "fallen woman.” The big- hearted man gains high status in the community, but when people find out that he's friends with the marginalized sex worker, they become angry. Despite their condemnation, the man stays steadfastly loyal to his friend, and by seeing the way he cares about her, eventually the community accepts her too. It was exactly the kind of story I expected to hear from him. I thought of the moment, sitting in bed, where he'd said: "If you're strong enough, you can walk into a trap." The moment when I'd realized that I could fall in love with him. After Mr. Ambition finished the story, the doctors arrived with the brace. This contraption involved using power tools to put four screws directly into my skull, which stabilize seven pounds of metal. For realz. I was awake while they did it, too. Luckily I got local anesthesia, so the screws didn't hurt while they were going in -- but I heard the bone crunching, and I felt the pressure building. Also, my neck hurt a lot. It was reasonably horrible. Some of my friends said later that they arrived at the hospital and tried to get into my HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018629

room while the brace was being installed, and they couldn't get in, but they heard me screaming. I don't remember screaming, so I deny everything. I tried to talk normally while it was happening. I felt like the whole affair was probably more taxing for the doctors than it was for me. I mean, at least I had morphine. "I'm sorry," I said to one of the doctors. "People must say awful things to you while you're doing this procedure." "One woman told me how much she hated me," the doctor said tranquilly. I tried not to cry, but I cried. Like I said: soap opera territory. Mr. Ambition never let go of my hand. te ok ok Mr. Ambition visited me in the hospital for hours every day. He brought me all kinds of awesome vegan smoothies. He met my parents, and got along well with them. When she got a moment alone with me, my best girlfriend asked what was up with him. "You guys broke up, didn't you? What's next?” "I'm not sure," I said. "We haven't talked about it." When I was able to go home, Mr. Ambition helped move me in. My air conditioner had stopped working, which is not fun for August in Chicago, especially for a person wearing a fur-lined brace. He promised to lend me a fan. I can't turn my head, so when Mr. Ambition arrived with the fan, I didn't realize it was him until he was standing right next to me. I was alone in my room, lying in bed, wearing only the brace and my underwear while I answered text messages. This was not as sexy as it sounds. Unless you're a medical device fetishist. In which case, I guess it was exactly as sexy as it sounds. The fan was quickly installed next to my bed. I felt awkward because I was half-naked and wearing a complex brace. I felt awkward because I couldn't help with the fan. I also felt awkward because I was racking up unpayable debt to a man who was, to all appearances, my ex. I tried to cover my discomfort by answering some more texts; then I looked up at Mr. Ambition. I couldn't read his expression. I felt oddly expressionless, myself. I felt wrung out. I couldn't think of any words I wanted to say. Maybe that was our moment of truth: the moment had no chemistry at all. I gave Mr. Ambition my hand. "Thank you so much for everything,” I said. "Of course," he said, squeezed my hand, and left. te OK ok After my accident, Richard sent me a quick email, then didn't contact me for over a month. I remembered what Mr. Ambition had said -- encouraging me to send more HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018630

emotional signals -- so tried inviting Richard for dinner, and he didn't answer my text messages. When I finally ran into Richard, I asked why he'd been ignoring me, and he laughed. "I knew you'd accuse me of ignoring you," he said. I felt like I'd walked into a trap. I was hurt, obviously. I was surprised by how hurt I was. The problem with my youthful water metaphor is that water is basically invulnerable, but I am not... and when I was younger and more open, I had much more trouble setting important boundaries. On the other hand, I had to admit that it was funny, too. I mean, it wasn't like I didn't see this coming. I mean, my coming-out story includes a portrait of Richard at his most difficult. One of the friends I share with Richard made a comment about leopards and spots. Maybe my life is a soap opera, but it could also be a sitcom with the most amazing characterization ever. I enlisted a cold, brilliant, evil-hearted friend to help draft my final letter to Richard. The letter was very short. Arguably, it was brutal. It read: Economists recognize that the most robust relationships are formed through a plethora of implicit agreements. Apparently, these agreements are not present, and probably won't be. Cheers. Economics arguments in the comments are encouraged. More importantly, readers may feel free to steal that letter for use on whoever is trying to pull their chain. te Ok ok I received a couple texts from Mr. Ambition, a few days after he gave me the fan. He said there had been a death in his family. "But I don't want to talk about that, actually,” he wrote. "I just want to check in and see how you're doing.” I thought about how he laughed when he was hurt. I thought about how he'd once told me that he wanted drama. I thought about his confusing reactions to S&M. I thought about how he outsourced his emotional labor to his friends. I thought about all the emotion I'd felt in him, coiled and caught and turned in on itself like a caged dragon. I wondered if he wanted me to push him to talk. "I'm so sorry," I texted back. "But I understand if you don't want to talk about it. I'm doing fine.” He invited me to a social event a week later, but I declined. I didn't reach out to him for a while after that, and he didn't reach out to me. I heard later that Mr. Ambition asked one of my friends whether they thought he owed me anything. My friend told him, quite accurately: "No, you don't owe her anything." If anything, I owe him. I'm not sure what I owe him, but I'm sure I owe him something. A billion dollars? Vegan smoothies? Chemistry? HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018631

This post can be found on the Internet at: http://clarissethorn.com/blog/2011/09/30/storytime-chemistry/ S&M: [theory] Start From A Position of Strength I wrote this post in 2011, and I wrote it carefully because I was worried that it might be interpreted as putting too much responsibility for BDSM on the submissive partner's shoulders. To be clear, I believe that both partners have responsibilities in a BDSM situation, but I also believe that the dominant partner especially must be careful and responsive. I hope that this is a theme in all my work. I really don't ever want to encourage people to blame the victim. However, I think it's undeniable that submissive partners need a sense of themselves, as well as internal strength and resources, to do BDSM -- especially very intense BDSM. The goal of this post was to start figuring out what that means. TK OK ok A while back, I attended a workshop run by educator Sarah Sloane on the topic of BDSM and abuse. Sarah centered her workshop on a maxim that I have hereby stolen: "Start from a position of strength, and seek strength in the end." I've been thinking about this a lot in terms of not just polyamory and BDSM, but sex in general. All types of sexuality are more pleasurable for some people, and less pleasurable for others; emotionally easier for some people, and more difficult for others. I have zero interest in telling other people how they "should" or "shouldn't" deal with their sexuality, as long as what they're doing is consensual. I want to say right now that nothing I'm about to write is intended to tell others how they "should" or "shouldn't" do S&M; it's just my own thoughts on how I might choose and process my experiences. I can certainly consent to whatever, even if that thing is problematic or scary or difficult or complicated -- I can consent. The thing is, if I want to get something amazing and positive out of my experiences, I think it's good to start from a position of strength. In some ways this is clear. For example, I think that being with a partner who genuinely wants me to have a good experience, who really cares about me, and who wants to see me again -- that's almost always a position of strength. Even if I have fairly intense, dark S&M encounters with that person, I can feel confident that he'll treat me with respect; that he'll give me space and lend me strength for emotional processing afterwards. Also, knowing what I want is a position of strength; understanding how I feel is a position of strength. Being able to recognize my emotional difficulties, hiccups, triggers and landmines is a position of strength. Knowing for sure that I can call my safeword, if necessary, is a position of strength. On a physical level, I prefer to do S&M when my HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018632

body is in good shape -- when I'm well-rested and I've eaten healthy food. That, too, is a position of strength. In some ways this can become murky. For example: I am rarely interested in one-night stands. There are a number of reasons for this, but one reason is that -- especially as a woman -- feeling like a "slut" can be scary, difficult cultural territory. And when I don't feel good about myself, my interest in one-night stands is even lower -- because I know that dealing with the difficult territory of "sluthood" will be harder with low self-esteem. If I'm feeling happy, strong, competent, valuable, and loved by the world... then one- night stands can easily be fun. If | doubt my worth, or if I doubt how much I deserve love... then one-night stands can be self-destructive. The same goes for relationships with people who don't care about me. If I'm sure that a guy has no emotional interest in me, then having sex with that guy can be a dangerous emotional proposition for me, and one that I need to feel strong for. This doesn't always end up being true -- I've definitely had sexual encounters that left me emotionally unaffected -- but sometimes it's hard to predict whether I'll want more emotional investment from a given dude, so I try to keep it in mind for all encounters. (From a polyamorous perspective, I've noticed that less-emotional sex is often easier to handle when I'm already in a solid relationship with someone else.) A couple I know in the local S&M community will sometimes have encounters that absolutely blow my mind, because they seem so difficult and so psychological. Here is an example: after the pair was married and child-free for many years, the wife realized that she might want children after all. This was a problem for her husband, who married her with the understanding that neither of them wanted kids. It became an ongoing discussion. Then the husband -- who is also the sadistic, dominant partner -- asked her if they could have an S&M encounter focused around the topic. She said it was okay. So, as part of an S&M class that they taught together, the husband used her new feelings about children to rip into her: during the S&M encounter, he told her that she was probably too old to have children, that she'd waited too long. He added that she was too flighty for kids; that she'd be a bad mother. He added that he had always made it clear that he never wanted kids; that she was stupid for marrying someone who didn't want kids, and that this problem was her own fault. I was not present during this class, but I heard about it from some attendees, and it sounds like it was really intense. He used a genuine and difficult sore spot to put his wife through a psychological S&M wringer, with her consent. These days, I feel very tempted towards encounters like that: encounters that can tear me apart on a deep level, using important weaknesses and insecurities. I've also received email from other people who want to arrange encounters like that, and who ask my advice. An obvious problem is that such a relationship could easily slip into abusive territory. So I've thought about this a lot, and here's my conclusion: those kind of intense psychological encounters obey the same maxim as other BDSM -- "Start from a position of strength, and seek strength in the end.” HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018633

Thus, before having such an intense psychological encounter, I should feel that the encounter will ultimately -- through the pain and anxiety and tears -- make me feel more supported, more capable, more powerful in the world. One angle on this is to trust my partner a great deal, and be sure that he wants the best for me -- to be sure that in the end, he wants me to be as strong as I started... or stronger. It's possible that I might not need so much support from my partner, if I get support elsewhere in my life: perhaps from friends, perhaps from a Kink Aware therapist, perhaps from a great job or a solid diet and exercise plan, perhaps even from another partner. (Of course, if I were planning to get extensive emotional processing support from other people, then I would seek their consent beforehand.) Still, it seems like the easiest way to get support would be to get it from my partner, who would share more of the experience with me than anyone else. This would also build our intimacy, which is usually a major factor in having intense S&M encounters in the first place. KK ok This can be found on the Internet at: S&M: [storytime] Predicament Bondage I wrote this in early 2011. Amusingly, after I wrote it, one of the top Google queries that brings people to my blog became the phrase "predicament bondage." I think those folks are probably looking for porn, and I wonder if my article disappoints them. te Kk ok Predicament Bondage Some people are masochists (who enjoy pain) but not submissives (who enjoy, well, submitting). Some people are really into discipline (with lots of punishment) but not bondage (rope, cages, etc). Some people are sadists (who enjoy inflicting sensations) but not dominants (who enjoy being in control). Some people are switches, who find that they can switch between roles -- they can be dominant or submissive; sadistic or masochistic... Iam an example of a definite switch. Me, I get positively bored if someone takes a long time tying me up. For other people, 45 minutes of elaborate knotwork = really hot foreplay. I don't understand this, but that's cool; plenty of people don't understand my preferences and we all coexist quite happily anyway. HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018634

So yeah, "bondage" -- rope, cages, etc. -- is not so much my thing. But there's one phrase I absolutely love: "predicament bondage." Predicament bondage is usually presented in a very elaborate way: for example, a submissive might be tied up with ropes binding him such that his arms are in pain -- but if he moves his arms then his legs will be in pain. It's a predicament! And it's bondage! Whee! Predicament bondage! However, it doesn't have to be elaborate to be predicament bondage. I'm not into rope obstacle courses, but I started loving the phrase "predicament bondage" after a friend went to a workshop run by Fetish Diva Midori and reported back. He said: Midori had two pitchers of water, or maybe a pitcher and a glass. She told us, "This is the simplest form of predicament bondage," and she had the demo submissive hold his hands straight out at shoulder height. Then she placed the water in his hands. The submissive had to keep holding the water; if he failed, he knew he would be failing Midori. But there was never any threat of "Midori's wrath" if he failed her. In fact, she spoke as if she was on his side, part of his team. In many ways, her sympathy for his plight made it all the more cruel, because she was the one doing it to him. She explained this. She knew that his sense of disappointment in "failing” her was worse than anything she could actually do to him. So, the predicament in that case was the submissive's increasing arm agony vs. his fear of failing Midori. For me, that concept is infinitely hotter than a rope obstacle course. Although for me, in practice, I'd also want the pain to be a bit more... um... personal. te Ok ok The first time someone flogged me, I had no idea what he was going to do beforehand; he and I had the strongest dominant/submissive dynamic I've ever felt, and I put myself in his hands with almost-total trust. A night came around when I felt that itch under my skin, the dark burn in the back of my mind... I knew I had to go see him. I wasn't hugely experienced, but I knew exactly what that slow burn meant. It was late. He was in bed, and I lay down next to him. "I think..." I said slowly, "I want you to hurt me. A lot." I felt him tense beside me. "Why?" he asked. I didn't look at him. "Why do you ask me questions when you already know the answer?” "Sometimes I just want to hear you say it," he said, and stood up. "Take off your clothes and get on your knees.” I caught my breath; did as he said. When I felt the ends of the flogger trail lightly down my back, I wasn't even sure what the soft sensation meant, but I was already trembling anyway. I am surprised by my memory of how much it hurt when he hit me. These days, I don't think of floggers as especially painful, but then again, I seem to recall that he left more marks than I'm used to. (I loved taking off my shirt and examining the bruises in the mirror. I glowed for days, afterwards.) So maybe there was something particular about what he did, or about his materials. Or maybe it's just that it was my first time. HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018635

He created the predicament when I started to cry and flinch around. It was very simple. He leaned over me. "For the next three, keep your face down and your hands still,” he said. "Promise me.” "I can't," I said. "I can't promise." I said it frantically. I was terrified of failing him. "I can't.” "You have to," he said gently. "So you will.” I cried harder. I sobbed so hard I couldn't speak. He stayed where he was, leaning over me, and kept a merciless silence. "I promise," I finally said, when I could shape words. My back was to him, I couldn't see his face, but I swear I felt him smile. When he hit me again, I barely moved. After the count of three, he said he wanted to see how much longer I could go, but the answer was that I couldn't -- I started to flinch strongly again. Of course, he kept hitting me, if only for that. But at least I hadn't broken my promise. Hadn't failed him. KK Ok I've heard about a game in which the submissive partner stands next to a wall, and holds two coins against the wall -- one in each hand. The dominant then does, you know, some stuff. On the submissive's part, dropping the coins spells failure. This sounds pretty hot, and it's one way to make a concrete predicament. But during the above encounter -- my first time being flogged -- I assure you that it was plenty hot enough without any coins. With only my promise and my awareness to keep me in line. Sometimes I can't obey the order, no matter how hard I try. My partner may order me not to move, for example, when I can't help moving. If I were in the above scenario, with the coins, I'm not confident that I wouldn't drop them. It's scary -- especially if I love him, because then all the emotions are multiplied. But even if I'm not in love -- as long as he's got me in the right mental space, then if I fail, I will say "I'm sorry” over and over. I'll be terrified of his anger; I'll feel like I deserve punishment, and if he doesn't keep hurting me I'll feel abandoned. The more I fail, the more it hurts -- more than physical pain ever could. Slamming up against my own limits makes me feel terribly inadequate. It's hot, but it's dangerous; it can rip me apart. At times like that, I often need my partner to tell me after we're done: "I still like you and think you're a good person.” And sometimes I need to hear that especially if I safeword out of the encounter, because sometimes -- not always, but sometimes -- calling my safeword can feel like the worst failure of all. KK ok When I trace some of the weirdest and most random situations that get me hot, I see that predicaments come up all the time. For example, I have a terrible tendency to try and make out with a partner right before we're expected to be somewhere. I might be totally cold 30 minutes before we have to leave, but 10 minutes before we have to leave, ding! It's like a switch flips. We've got to leave, but I grab him and now he's turned on, oh no! HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018636

And now we're late! Whee! One of my exes pointed out my tendency to make out with him while his car was stopped at traffic lights that were about to turn green. "I know!" I said. "I don't really get why I do that, myself." He responded, "Predicament bondage!” KK ok Sometimes, when the pain is getting intense, I'll play a little game with my partners. (Kind of a game, except it's also serious, or it feels serious at the time; usually, when I start playing this game, I am not even close to coherent enough to ponder tactics; I'm running on instinct.) I think of this game as the "aren't you scared of the neighbors" game. In the "aren't you scared of the neighbors" game, I start making noise loud enough that I might catch outsiders’ attention. Part of me is hoping that my partner is worried about the neighbors; that he'll relent, that I can use my tiny advantage to convince him to pull back. That I can play for a moment of relief, a smidgen of mercy. Of course, if I'm lucky, my partners will then just order me to be quiet while they hurt me. Which creates a predicament! Because being quiet is actually not at all easy, and it gets more difficult the more it hurts. And then there's the distraction game. I don't always do BDSM with partners I'm sexually attracted to; even with partners I'm sexually attracted to, I don't always feel sexual during our BDSM encounters. But when I feel very attracted during a BDSM encounter, oh, man. That's when I play the distraction game, which involves attempting to distract him by turning him on. Again, I'm not really coherent enough to be planning strategy at times like this; I'm more going on instinct; instinctively, it's like I'm trying to bargain. Maybe if I can turn him on, he'll have sex with me instead of hurting me.... If I'm lucky, he'll recognize what I'm doing; he'll be pleased, amused even, but he won't stop. One recent partner had me handcuffed to a car seat while he was hurting me. (Doing this in his car was not my idea, but at least we weren't moving. Nor were we paused at a traffic light.) I couldn't move too much, so I started licking his hand when he reached for me. Kissing his palm, his fingers -- he groaned, and then he laughed. "You are a switch," he said, "trying to control me even now." And he didn't stop. te ok ok "No," I breathed, a few months ago, during an encounter with someone who's really good at this. "You don't get to say no,” he replied, so I bit back the word. Had to fight against my own desperate instinct to say it, over and over. Later, he murmured, "It's so cute how you act like you don't want this," as he leaned in to inflict dark bruises on my shoulder. His words almost brought me to tears. But J don't want it. Do 1? How can I want something that hurts like this? But I'm not stopping him -- did I really ask for this -- I must want it -- Forcing me to face up to my own consent: a predicament? I fought back when he hurt me, instinctively pushing him away. "Don't push me away,” he instructed. "Put your arms around me," and I did. But we moved around, and moved HOUSE_OVERSIGHT_018637