Saturday, July 7, 2018
Also in retrospect, this turned out to be a really good plan that vastly improved my life.
I don't think that's how this story is supposed to go. I'm supposed to say something like "I now realize I did these things because as a person who struggled with self-esteem and body image, I wanted to feel desirable," but my feeling is more along the lines of "I wanted to feel desirable, and fuck, it worked." It worked great. Made me feel like the sexiest fat little weirdo on Earth. 100% recommended. Just use a condom.
I wanted to silence some inner pain by blotting it out with physical sensation, and... that was a fine decision. It was a Band-Aid on the problem, which is a great metaphor because Band-Aids make you feel better and help you heal. Kink helped me wean off self-harm and it put me in touch with people who were knowledgeable about gender, sexuality, and mental health.
It was also a really fuckin' fantastic physical sensation. That's not a minor detail. Sex and kink are emotionally validating, sure, but I wasn't moaning and quivering with emotional validation.
I put it all online because I wanted attention, and again, that worked out fantastically. It turns out that the attention of random Internet strangers is actually really powerful and good for your self-esteem, and can open so many doors and lead to long-term friendships. Everywhere I've traveled, I've met fascinating people who knew me because of my decision to describe all the ins and outs (and ins and outs) of my sex life on the Internet, and it's led to all kinds of great experiences.
I've got regrets, but only the regular kind. I trusted some creeps, and alienated some actually-okay people. I said and wrote some stuff I shouldn't have. I got overly passionate about some teapot tempests. I didn't always take the best care of my body, but in a "that'll be sore" way, not a "ruined forever" way. I turned in some really mediocre articles and presentations because I'm terrible at working on a deadline. You know, the wages of sin.
There's no question that I got lucky on certain things, and I have to shy clear of outright advising people to follow this life path. (Mostly because it has to find you, maaan. Also, I dunno, liability?) But if you're looking for a story of contrition, you're not going to find it here. I'm all grown up and looking back on my promiscuous past, and my main reflection was "fuck, that was so much fun."
(I said "was," and this is all written in past tense because it's kind of a retrospective four years after I last wrote on this blog, but I'm not done with kink or sexuality or general exploration, God no. I'm just in more of a middle-aged pervert stage now.)
I went through a wild-child phase, and man, it sure beat the hell out of being a domesticated child.