There are times when I wish English was a more precise language. Vanilla and Femdom don't really fit quite right, but there's really nothing else for me but to use them to modify each other. Part of why they don't quite fit is that I'm trying to modify and tinker with the vocabulary to to make it fit me.
I hadn't discovered labcoatlingerie before, but I'm glad I ran across it. Most especially because of this post: One of the Nineteen. Did you read it? Awesome.
All I have to say is: Yup. Agreed.
So, this concept of being one of 19 'hidden' dominant women - in parity with the many submissive men out there - was what I was referring to in my previous post when I spoke about how I'm not any different than I was before. I've read the idea that dommes are hiding because they just don't know that there's a place to express their dominance in so many permutations that I'd lost track of where I'd first read of it.
The only thing I've done differently in the last handful of years is to 'discover' BDSM. I'm still the same-old-me I always was in the same-old-relationship (now stretching past 10 years) with my same-old-expressions-of-dominance in all spheres. I didn't suddenly get more 'domme-esque', I merely discovered that other people had a name for what I do and what I like.
In that discovery there was some rabbit-hole investigating where I found other things I like, but I didn't suddenly try and shove myself into a domme-shaped box. I hate boxes, I hate restrictive identities, and I hate defining labels. Even saying that makes me feel like Francis from Left 4 Dead who hates everything (except for vests), but seriously people - just because you discover a vocabulary does NOT mean that you suddenly have to change your entire identity makeup to accommodate that vocabulary.
Perhaps I am lucky in that I have a 'fuck you' attitude towards basically everyone with Opinions about my identity, but that doesn't mean I don't want a vocabulary I can use to describe myself. I'm content with fishing around and cobbling it together, but I think it says something big that I'm prefer to keep to the edge of femdom and at the edges of the vocabulary. It says something that I'm still looking.
I didn't find a 'home'. I may be one of the 95% of women who came to realize just what my dominance means in relationships, but I haven't found a place to rest yet with respect to how I describe myself. I'm not going to change, goodness knows I haven't yet, and while my understanding of my identity is in constant flux my identity hasn't budged since forever. Still, in flirting with femdom, I don't actually want to be part of the 'scene' at this moment in time. I do, however, want to represent myself here on the internet, just in case there's someone else like me out there. Others who are dominant, kinky in a vanilla sort of way, and with an absolute love for geekery.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
'Fake' Vanilla Dommes?
I can't for the life of me find the original citation of this particular quote and that distresses me deeply, especially because I have taken the somewhat confused appellation 'Vanilla Domme'. Of course, in doing research, I found more absences than presences.
The post 'Fake Vanilla Dommes' on femdomblog is simply a quote with a a broken link for attribution and no commentary whatsoever. I've reproduced it here, in full, because it's not all that long.
The first assumption that I can see is that Domme and Vanilla are expected to be mutually exclusive. Their deliberate juxtaposition is meant to illuminate that the Domme isn't really a Domme, but is only pretending to be. The author (Mistress A, I believe.) uses vanilla as a negative modifier, reinforcing the lines between kinky and not-kinky with vanilla being the only thing that separates the term from a proper, responsible Domme and an irresponsible, naive, Domme putting on airs her peers do not believe she deserves.
The second assumption I can see is that a Vanilla Domme will never be a domme, ever. This works off of the underlying assumption that all those who attempt to conform to a stereotype are poseurs without a sincere bone in their body (thus ignoring the observable phenomena of 'extreme behavior' following discovery of a suitable new identity.) and are irredeemable, that their presence is a constant taint upon Femdomhood (entertaining term, imho) and will remain so as long as they cleave to the images without doing any of the research. There is a hint of an old-guard bias with an attitude toward 'fluffy bunny' insincerity (to borrow a term from the pagan community) and what appears to be a desire to distance herself from these obnoxious newcomers.
Interesting.
The second assumption is most easily tackled, in my opinion. I've seen this sort of, well, lament over the lack of gatekeepers in other communities. When anyone can join, there is no way to 'keep out' the fluff and nonsense at the very bottom level and there will be a lot of materiel generated to keep people at the fluff and nonsense level. The pagan community (in all its decentralized glory) has this issue with people who don't take the religions of practitioners seriously and are only at the edges for what paganism can provide them. They play up the rituals, sex, and magic and don't engage with the community on what is considered the proper level. They take up space and give pagans a bad name.
This sounds like almost exactly the same thing. A newly self-christened domme waltzes on the scene and, using only what images were available to her prior to her entrance, proceeds to ignore what the community considers the proper level of engagement, plays up the rituals, sex, and magic, and does damage to the image of the more responsible and reasonable dommes. They take up space and more long-standing dommes have to actively fight the nonsense these others portray. Maybe it's not a direct parallel, but it fits in a lot of ways.
There are two things to draw from this parallel, however. First is that as the greater-world, mainstream imagery changes, the femdom PR so to speak, so do the portrayals of the so-named Vanilla Dommes. Second is that some individuals need to fit themselves into an identity before they can wiggle around and learn something, so that some of these Vanilla Dommes are not irredeemable. These two ideas tie in to the concept that when an individual discovers a new identity that fits, they often seize upon it, do all the preliminary research they possible can, and then... try it on. Like a shoe. Or a hat. If all of the imagery points to a domineering PVC clad female, then obviously newcomers with enthusiasm are going to claim that and try it on. Not everyone is capable of picking and choosing identity as sticker-descriptors prefer to claim identities as whole constructs, at least to start with. It may be a seriously ugly hat until they realize that, damn, I am wearing the ugliest hat and I should upgrade to a much nicer hat. It is, at that point, still a hat and can be counted among hats, but it's a tailored hat instead.
Anecdotally, I've been around several individuals and have observed their behavior both when they encounter BDSM or LGBT and when they figured out that they were wearing a damn ugly hat. They leap in, feet first, and are all SORTS of stereotypically ridiculous. It's simply awful. The worst was one of my slightly-effeminate guy friends. He discovered being Gay(tm) and, goodness gracious great balls of fire, was he a fairy for a couple of years. Not natural fairy, oh no, but a completely over-the-top-do-you-want-some-glitter-in-your-latte-I-love-heart-heart-pink sort of fairy.
I'm pretty sure his favorite color is green or something far less stereotypical. We - as his supportive friends - mostly just winced and took it in stride, but I vividly remember his comments to the effect of, once the glamor of his ugly hat wore off, "I don't want to be the pretty-pretty-princess gay man anymore. Isn't there an identity that suits me better?"
That's just how some people are with respect to identity. All in. They want to embody the stereotype they connect with without having any of the foundation or fundamentals in place. Without any sort of gatekeeping education and with ONLY ridiculous imagery and stereotypes out there for newcomers to base their ugly hats on, it is zero-percent surprising to me that Instant Domme Syndrome and Vanilla Dommes would be an issue.
Solution: Change imagery that newcomers have available to express and reflect the actual members of the community. (Easier said than done, eh?) That should cut down on the number of Instant/Vanilla Dommes invading domly spaces.
The first assumption made by this snippet, however, is something that I have a little bit more trouble with, especially since I have claimed the title Vanilla Domme all by myself. Does being more toward the vanilla end of things in my kinks really negate my dominance? That was rhetorical, actually, the answer is no. More on that in a bit.
As for vanilla being negative: I do understand that using the term vanilla is, in some respects, very accurate. Vanilla sex and sexuality is based around - as far as I can tell - non-communicative sexual expression. Sarcasm. What is there to talk about, after all? Tab-a, slot-b, turn the boobs a quarter turn counterclockwise, don't forget a condom, bam! Done. End Sarcasm. As if that was all it ever was. Heh. Vanilla sex, in all its complexities, is assumed to be so simple that it doesn't need communication. Just terrible. So using vanilla in the context of this description of a vanilla domme to mean irresponsible and non-communicative is unfortunately appropriate.
Okay, then, so the term is accurate, but I don't like that it implies that I must be kinky to be a domme. I am made up of both vanilla and kinky elements, but I don't closely tie either with being dominant. It just is. So when I say I'm a vanilla domme, what I mean is that I'm pretty mainstream in my kinks. I like the whole corset thing, and shoving men in dresses, etc, but I don't identify strongly enough with kink beyond the general to really consider myself all that kinky. I often feel that if I were more extreme in my likes that I would feel better using the label, but if all I have is 'dominant'? That's barely a kink at all unless you consider me deviant for simply not being submissive.
I don't want to say that the whole thing doesn't apply to me, but I guess that the snippet is mostly referring to Dommes as the women who participate in situations where they would be called Mistress by strangers, where clueless newbies could do some damage by being domineering. I'm not exactly a clueless newbie, for all that I'm a vanilla domme. I simply know what I like and am trying to hack and slash my way to vocabulary that describes it.
The post 'Fake Vanilla Dommes' on femdomblog is simply a quote with a a broken link for attribution and no commentary whatsoever. I've reproduced it here, in full, because it's not all that long.
[Mistress Marlene’s] pet peeve about what she calls the ‘Instant Domme Syndrome’ that, according to her, she has been watching develop all over the world and in essence is the downfall of Femdomhood. According to Mistress Marlene, this Vanilla Domme beliefs that too much book learning and fantasy and not enough hands on reality before claiming a title that should be bestowed by one’s peers has largely contribute to this phenomena.Well, shit. Obviously I would like NOT to embody that this sort of playacting suggested by the term 'Vanilla Domme' used in such a derogatory fashion. I would like to pick apart this sentiment, though, and muse a bit on the assumptions behind the rejection of this sort of domineering behavior and why 'vanilla' is tacked onto the term.
Mistress Marlene claims the the Vanilla Domme is bored one day and decides to recreate herself into one of the most powerful personas on earth. This vanilla imposter adds the title of Mistress in front of her name and begins the lie. This vanilla popsicle’s ego fools her into believing in herself and the vanilla Domme jumps into displaying what she thinks a Domme is. In her quest for importance she does not even recognize the difference between dominating and domineering. Of course, neither does the submissive until his heart and soul are caught in her web of deception.
According to Mistress Marlene, using a title is misrepresenting domination via title and content and is not a wise entrance into a new dream."
The first assumption that I can see is that Domme and Vanilla are expected to be mutually exclusive. Their deliberate juxtaposition is meant to illuminate that the Domme isn't really a Domme, but is only pretending to be. The author (Mistress A, I believe.) uses vanilla as a negative modifier, reinforcing the lines between kinky and not-kinky with vanilla being the only thing that separates the term from a proper, responsible Domme and an irresponsible, naive, Domme putting on airs her peers do not believe she deserves.
The second assumption I can see is that a Vanilla Domme will never be a domme, ever. This works off of the underlying assumption that all those who attempt to conform to a stereotype are poseurs without a sincere bone in their body (thus ignoring the observable phenomena of 'extreme behavior' following discovery of a suitable new identity.) and are irredeemable, that their presence is a constant taint upon Femdomhood (entertaining term, imho) and will remain so as long as they cleave to the images without doing any of the research. There is a hint of an old-guard bias with an attitude toward 'fluffy bunny' insincerity (to borrow a term from the pagan community) and what appears to be a desire to distance herself from these obnoxious newcomers.
Interesting.
The second assumption is most easily tackled, in my opinion. I've seen this sort of, well, lament over the lack of gatekeepers in other communities. When anyone can join, there is no way to 'keep out' the fluff and nonsense at the very bottom level and there will be a lot of materiel generated to keep people at the fluff and nonsense level. The pagan community (in all its decentralized glory) has this issue with people who don't take the religions of practitioners seriously and are only at the edges for what paganism can provide them. They play up the rituals, sex, and magic and don't engage with the community on what is considered the proper level. They take up space and give pagans a bad name.
This sounds like almost exactly the same thing. A newly self-christened domme waltzes on the scene and, using only what images were available to her prior to her entrance, proceeds to ignore what the community considers the proper level of engagement, plays up the rituals, sex, and magic, and does damage to the image of the more responsible and reasonable dommes. They take up space and more long-standing dommes have to actively fight the nonsense these others portray. Maybe it's not a direct parallel, but it fits in a lot of ways.
There are two things to draw from this parallel, however. First is that as the greater-world, mainstream imagery changes, the femdom PR so to speak, so do the portrayals of the so-named Vanilla Dommes. Second is that some individuals need to fit themselves into an identity before they can wiggle around and learn something, so that some of these Vanilla Dommes are not irredeemable. These two ideas tie in to the concept that when an individual discovers a new identity that fits, they often seize upon it, do all the preliminary research they possible can, and then... try it on. Like a shoe. Or a hat. If all of the imagery points to a domineering PVC clad female, then obviously newcomers with enthusiasm are going to claim that and try it on. Not everyone is capable of picking and choosing identity as sticker-descriptors prefer to claim identities as whole constructs, at least to start with. It may be a seriously ugly hat until they realize that, damn, I am wearing the ugliest hat and I should upgrade to a much nicer hat. It is, at that point, still a hat and can be counted among hats, but it's a tailored hat instead.
Anecdotally, I've been around several individuals and have observed their behavior both when they encounter BDSM or LGBT and when they figured out that they were wearing a damn ugly hat. They leap in, feet first, and are all SORTS of stereotypically ridiculous. It's simply awful. The worst was one of my slightly-effeminate guy friends. He discovered being Gay(tm) and, goodness gracious great balls of fire, was he a fairy for a couple of years. Not natural fairy, oh no, but a completely over-the-top-do-you-want-some-glitter-in-your-latte-I-love-heart-heart-pink sort of fairy.
I'm pretty sure his favorite color is green or something far less stereotypical. We - as his supportive friends - mostly just winced and took it in stride, but I vividly remember his comments to the effect of, once the glamor of his ugly hat wore off, "I don't want to be the pretty-pretty-princess gay man anymore. Isn't there an identity that suits me better?"
That's just how some people are with respect to identity. All in. They want to embody the stereotype they connect with without having any of the foundation or fundamentals in place. Without any sort of gatekeeping education and with ONLY ridiculous imagery and stereotypes out there for newcomers to base their ugly hats on, it is zero-percent surprising to me that Instant Domme Syndrome and Vanilla Dommes would be an issue.
Solution: Change imagery that newcomers have available to express and reflect the actual members of the community. (Easier said than done, eh?) That should cut down on the number of Instant/Vanilla Dommes invading domly spaces.
The first assumption made by this snippet, however, is something that I have a little bit more trouble with, especially since I have claimed the title Vanilla Domme all by myself. Does being more toward the vanilla end of things in my kinks really negate my dominance? That was rhetorical, actually, the answer is no. More on that in a bit.
As for vanilla being negative: I do understand that using the term vanilla is, in some respects, very accurate. Vanilla sex and sexuality is based around - as far as I can tell - non-communicative sexual expression. Sarcasm. What is there to talk about, after all? Tab-a, slot-b, turn the boobs a quarter turn counterclockwise, don't forget a condom, bam! Done. End Sarcasm. As if that was all it ever was. Heh. Vanilla sex, in all its complexities, is assumed to be so simple that it doesn't need communication. Just terrible. So using vanilla in the context of this description of a vanilla domme to mean irresponsible and non-communicative is unfortunately appropriate.
Okay, then, so the term is accurate, but I don't like that it implies that I must be kinky to be a domme. I am made up of both vanilla and kinky elements, but I don't closely tie either with being dominant. It just is. So when I say I'm a vanilla domme, what I mean is that I'm pretty mainstream in my kinks. I like the whole corset thing, and shoving men in dresses, etc, but I don't identify strongly enough with kink beyond the general to really consider myself all that kinky. I often feel that if I were more extreme in my likes that I would feel better using the label, but if all I have is 'dominant'? That's barely a kink at all unless you consider me deviant for simply not being submissive.
I don't want to say that the whole thing doesn't apply to me, but I guess that the snippet is mostly referring to Dommes as the women who participate in situations where they would be called Mistress by strangers, where clueless newbies could do some damage by being domineering. I'm not exactly a clueless newbie, for all that I'm a vanilla domme. I simply know what I like and am trying to hack and slash my way to vocabulary that describes it.
Reclaiming Power by throwing Dommes under the Bus
Please go read the article 'Kinky Sex for Social Justice' on the older wordpress blog Female Arrogance.
The article above is from a blog that was published in 2009, the post itself was written and first published in 2007. It's been a long time (in internet time units) since this hit the interwebs, but it is as applicable today as it was then. When the rants of the blogosphere haven't changed in several years, you know we're getting nowhere. This article was linked by maymay in the comments for Doms Don't Cry on labcoatlingerie.
Regardless, I am torn between being intensely offended by this post by Helena von Salome and agreeing with a good swath of it. I agree that submissive women need to embrace their submission, accept it as their position of power (no pun intended) and then run with it. You like what you like, lady, and that gives you a platform and strength to say 'bug off' to everyone who wants to demean you.
I don't even know if this is a thing anymore or if it's starting to graduate to a straw-man-stereotype from a billion years ago, but here are the bits that ruffle my feathers:
I know that the femalearrogance author, von Salome, is speaking in broad, stereotypical generalities (as is necessary in a post about broad cultural stereotypes), but I would like to think that I can STILL do my part in furthering the cause of social justice by being a powerful woman. Not a woman who is powerful because she is adopting masculine traits or because she is playing into the insidious 'untouchable' trope, but a woman who is powerful because she works from the strengths of her desire and convictions. I want to change preconceptions based on the fundamental truth that it's not a bad thing for me or any woman to enjoy sex, to talk about it, and to explore it. This works on all sides of whatever domme/sub fence you care to erect.
Also, I'm a terrible tease in all the best ways. What I want out of the whole teasing thing is desire that will be consummated when I want it to be consummated. It is a structure of delaying pleasure and, subsequently, fulfilling that pleasure on a timetable set by the dominant partner. I take umbrage that the stereotype is Ice Queen - and that all actions attributed to it are heinous - because of the insinuation (or blatant implication) that the teasing model doesn't get me just as hot as it would my boyo. As if I'm an automaton that wouldn't enjoy a man's tormented arousal until such time as I took advantage of it. Disagree and disapprove.
I am also angry as hell at femalearrogance's assertion that:
If von Salome thinks it's silly, I think they're full of shit. I read the rest of the article for some indication that this was said in jest or in satire, but unless I missed something I can only conclude that this was said perfectly seriously. What a load of horse pucky.
The article goes about 'the inherent violence of sex' and the 'inherent power dynamic of sucking cock', and I'm angry at von Salome because it casts MY dominance as submission whenever I go down on a guy because I enjoy it (the feel and the pulse and the little noises he makes when I get him to abandon himself). Re-framing my experiences to fit some 'universal always'? That doesn't fly. Saying that sucking cock is a submissive act for every human being going down on someone else is not a 'natural' power dynamic, it's a 'status quo' power dynamic that simply does not apply to me.
The very idea that I would be perforce submissive upon sucking cock puts me on the defensive, as is evinced by the previous paragraph, and it places me in the uncomfortable mental position where I feel like I have to prove my dominance (however that would work) or distance myself from the idea. The whole thing is nonsense, buys into some sort of poles-are-essentially-dominant holes-are-essentially-submissive claptrap. The etymology of 'fuck' - described somewhat in von Salome's post - merely tells where the ideas first developed along with language and just because these ideas have 'always' been around doesn't meant they're correct. A good portion of her post rails at academics for how they blame culture for stuff they're unwilling to own and - at the same time - she uses culture as justification for what is ultimately a type of essentialism that I simply cannot agree with.
I refuse to consider myself anything but normal, because considering myself abnormal allows me to be shuffled off to the side and ignored as an outlier.
Similarly, I want to distance myself from the idea that all sex requires violence or that sex IS violence in and of itself. I find that a damaging attitude to take. The joy and pleasure I take away from sex is not the same joy and pleasure as I take away from violence. Yes they can mingle and it can be hot when they do mingle, but they're not the same emotion. Violence can LEAD to sex - I am always ridiculously horny after action movies - but not because they're inextricably entwined. A 'but biologically, all humans are wired for violence' is not a good enough argument for me to agree that every penis-in-vagina is violent or even submissive. Those noises I'm making can be mistaken for pain, but I can assure you they're not, in fact, pain.
Mocking the idea that sex is NOT violence ignores the negative connotations of violence-as-bad. Now, I realize that - as Hamlet suggests - "[..]there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." Sure, but violence indicates an intent to harm as part of the very basic definition. My bedpartner would certainly like to avoid harming me with his oh-so-manly appendage. Biting is another story, something that I enjoy and is quite certainly violence and I quite positively correlate with sexual arousal, but just because it goes together like peanut butter and jelly doesn't mean they need always be paired. Jelly and, say, butter is also acceptable. As is jelly and scones with tea. And jelly all over your partner...
But I digress. Lastly:
I realize this is a response to an old old post, but I don't care. I'm struggling with hammering out a space for myself within feminism, BDSM, kink-in-general, and the blogpost sparked a lot of anger that I needed to sort through.
The article above is from a blog that was published in 2009, the post itself was written and first published in 2007. It's been a long time (in internet time units) since this hit the interwebs, but it is as applicable today as it was then. When the rants of the blogosphere haven't changed in several years, you know we're getting nowhere. This article was linked by maymay in the comments for Doms Don't Cry on labcoatlingerie.
Regardless, I am torn between being intensely offended by this post by Helena von Salome and agreeing with a good swath of it. I agree that submissive women need to embrace their submission, accept it as their position of power (no pun intended) and then run with it. You like what you like, lady, and that gives you a platform and strength to say 'bug off' to everyone who wants to demean you.
I don't even know if this is a thing anymore or if it's starting to graduate to a straw-man-stereotype from a billion years ago, but here are the bits that ruffle my feathers:
"The dominatrix appears to turn this roleplay on its head, but in fact does no such thing. She merely permanently stalls the process at the second-to-last step, still in the wanting but never the having, so that the man never loses interest. Even the sex act, in the most extreme male-submissive fantasies, lacks climax or satisfaction. In this way the dominatrix is exactly the same as the girl who keeps waiting one more date to actually fuck whoever she’s dating, in the certainty that she can only keep his interest as long as she keeps him frustrated. One of these women would be called “tease” in a worshipful tone, and the other in a derogatory tone, but the meanings are effectively synonymous."
I know that the femalearrogance author, von Salome, is speaking in broad, stereotypical generalities (as is necessary in a post about broad cultural stereotypes), but I would like to think that I can STILL do my part in furthering the cause of social justice by being a powerful woman. Not a woman who is powerful because she is adopting masculine traits or because she is playing into the insidious 'untouchable' trope, but a woman who is powerful because she works from the strengths of her desire and convictions. I want to change preconceptions based on the fundamental truth that it's not a bad thing for me or any woman to enjoy sex, to talk about it, and to explore it. This works on all sides of whatever domme/sub fence you care to erect.
Also, I'm a terrible tease in all the best ways. What I want out of the whole teasing thing is desire that will be consummated when I want it to be consummated. It is a structure of delaying pleasure and, subsequently, fulfilling that pleasure on a timetable set by the dominant partner. I take umbrage that the stereotype is Ice Queen - and that all actions attributed to it are heinous - because of the insinuation (or blatant implication) that the teasing model doesn't get me just as hot as it would my boyo. As if I'm an automaton that wouldn't enjoy a man's tormented arousal until such time as I took advantage of it. Disagree and disapprove.
I am also angry as hell at femalearrogance's assertion that:
"Sex-positive feminism attempts to counter or disprove that assertion, but I’m not going to do that, because that’s silly. Of course, if you see every man as metonymic for the patriarchy, a blowjob is a woman surrendering to the patriarchy. It’s a blowjob! She’s getting on her goddamn knees and sucking cock! Don’t try to tell me there’s not an inherent, violent power dynamic there. Come on."
If von Salome thinks it's silly, I think they're full of shit. I read the rest of the article for some indication that this was said in jest or in satire, but unless I missed something I can only conclude that this was said perfectly seriously. What a load of horse pucky.
The article goes about 'the inherent violence of sex' and the 'inherent power dynamic of sucking cock', and I'm angry at von Salome because it casts MY dominance as submission whenever I go down on a guy because I enjoy it (the feel and the pulse and the little noises he makes when I get him to abandon himself). Re-framing my experiences to fit some 'universal always'? That doesn't fly. Saying that sucking cock is a submissive act for every human being going down on someone else is not a 'natural' power dynamic, it's a 'status quo' power dynamic that simply does not apply to me.
The very idea that I would be perforce submissive upon sucking cock puts me on the defensive, as is evinced by the previous paragraph, and it places me in the uncomfortable mental position where I feel like I have to prove my dominance (however that would work) or distance myself from the idea. The whole thing is nonsense, buys into some sort of poles-are-essentially-dominant holes-are-essentially-submissive claptrap. The etymology of 'fuck' - described somewhat in von Salome's post - merely tells where the ideas first developed along with language and just because these ideas have 'always' been around doesn't meant they're correct. A good portion of her post rails at academics for how they blame culture for stuff they're unwilling to own and - at the same time - she uses culture as justification for what is ultimately a type of essentialism that I simply cannot agree with.
I refuse to consider myself anything but normal, because considering myself abnormal allows me to be shuffled off to the side and ignored as an outlier.
Similarly, I want to distance myself from the idea that all sex requires violence or that sex IS violence in and of itself. I find that a damaging attitude to take. The joy and pleasure I take away from sex is not the same joy and pleasure as I take away from violence. Yes they can mingle and it can be hot when they do mingle, but they're not the same emotion. Violence can LEAD to sex - I am always ridiculously horny after action movies - but not because they're inextricably entwined. A 'but biologically, all humans are wired for violence' is not a good enough argument for me to agree that every penis-in-vagina is violent or even submissive. Those noises I'm making can be mistaken for pain, but I can assure you they're not, in fact, pain.
Mocking the idea that sex is NOT violence ignores the negative connotations of violence-as-bad. Now, I realize that - as Hamlet suggests - "[..]there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." Sure, but violence indicates an intent to harm as part of the very basic definition. My bedpartner would certainly like to avoid harming me with his oh-so-manly appendage. Biting is another story, something that I enjoy and is quite certainly violence and I quite positively correlate with sexual arousal, but just because it goes together like peanut butter and jelly doesn't mean they need always be paired. Jelly and, say, butter is also acceptable. As is jelly and scones with tea. And jelly all over your partner...
But I digress. Lastly:
"Real deviance, however, has deeper roots. Real deviance is understanding that all sex is inherently dangerous, and inherently liberating, and that that liberation, that revolutionary potential, can be accessed if you approach any kind of sex as deviant"This only works if danger is positive. Live dangerously, with great risk and great reward, and an understanding that all worthwhile things involve a certain amount of venturing outside of your comfort zone. An REM song much on my mind that kind of hints at this is 'Walk Unafraid' with its sentiments of wanting to shucking of fear and worry to be able to walk, stumbling, courageous, clumsy, and unafraid.
I realize this is a response to an old old post, but I don't care. I'm struggling with hammering out a space for myself within feminism, BDSM, kink-in-general, and the blogpost sparked a lot of anger that I needed to sort through.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Dominance: Orientation or Personality Trait?
One of the things I've been mulling over for a year or so now is the idea that kink is orientational, by which I mean that What It Is We Do is somehow hardwired into a person and that their fetishes, kinks, and BDSM desires (or lack thereof) fall under the broad umbrella of 'born that way'. I use WIIWD in the broadest sense possible, because it kind of does include everyone who ever wants to have sex (or not) under its vast umbrella.
In a lot of respects, I agree with the orientational view of sexuality in both 'who you're attracted to' sense (along with the ten billion ways of describing fluid sexuality or ones that cleave to a more binary definition) as well as the 'what you do when you play with them' sense. There are times when I just crave what I crave and no amount of introspection or armchair psychology can pry loose any reason other than, "I just do."
Still (and you knew there was a but coming, didn't you?), the concept of having a Dominant and Submissive orientation present to me somewhat of a problem.
Right now, D/s is associated with the kink sphere ( it's right there in the BDSM term!), so that is ostensibly where Dominant and Submissive individuals belong. This leads, as far as I can tell, to the conflation of power exchange with sexual requirements (orgasm denial, cock-and-ball torture, etc) and S&M requirements (I need a whip, for sure, and he must be able to take the pain I love dishing out). For power exchange to be recognized as such, there is this stereotype that it needs to be more than a relationship, that it needs little added twiddly bits that launch it from the mundane into the realm of the kinky.
This is why I hate labels. Labels make me feel trapped and angry.
So, if I self-identify as a domme - and believe me, darling, I rather love the term - I subsequently belong to that illustrious and perverted (in a good way) subculture that declares itself the BDSM community. Then, too, the kink community (as if it was some sort of great unified beast and not a sprawling conglomeration of conflicting concepts) is also a refuge for the huge swath of people who do not feel entirely safe (or whole, or accepted) within approved-of society.
But, while I like the little bits of 'extra' that the BDSM community assumes comes with D/s, I feel intensely uncomfortable even among my supposed people. "What have you done?" I am asked curiously, as if I should need to establish my domme cred. Then to come the questions, "What have you tried? What are you interested in trying?" to see if my modest and unassuming kinks align with my questioners'.
My answer is usually a shy stutter and I rail at myself afterward for not responding with more aplomb. L'esprit d'escalier, indeed. If I were to be honest, then I should say, "Well, shit. I have no idea. Most of what I do I never considered kinky." I'm *still* discovering that little episodes in my past that were perfectly normal for me, the kinky sphere lays claim on.
All fundamentally normal. For me. Couched in BDSM terms, I have been an acknowledged domme since HS, have a fetish for forced feminization and cross-dressing, I instinctively seek out submissive men, and I am a sexual dominant. Even with this, I would never have dreamed of calling any of my actions kinky. I am annoyed that BDSM wants them as if they should be quietly locked away from the rest of my life. The sharp, self-protective delineations of the BDSM community bother me because I was never subjected to them before, and it is as if now that my kinks are deigned 'kinky enough' to join the club, that I can no longer pretend to be one of the Vanilla People.
Nothing I did changed. I'm privileged. I was able to express my so-called fetishes through 'normal' channels and if I was considered weird by most, I was still considered awesome by the people who mattered. I knew that being called Mistress wasn't mainstream after I mentioned it to a couple of girls in my cabin at Bible camp and they appeared baffled. I remember feeling surprised that they couldn't relate and then faintly smug that I was different in a way I vastly preferred.
So I resent being encouraged to 'hide' this aspect of my personality. I'm so bog-boring normal that if I qualify for the super special secret BDSM club, then the whole entire world is kinky and they should just get the hell over themselves and dispense with this stupid dichotomy.
Then I think, "Well, what if Dominant and Submissive are not only orientations, but also basic personality traits?" I cannot deny the empirical evidence of men who crave an intimate touch on the vulnerable parts of their psyche and that it's an intensely emotional and sexual thing. I also cannot deny that some men and women are simply filled with more presence than others, more charisma and that indefinable 'something' that makes people follow their lead.
I feel kind of stupid for postulating something that is probably really obvious to everyone else, that dominance is an orientation *and* trait, and they don't necessarily have to overlap.
But if dominance can be both... can someone be a sexual dominant and have a submissive personality? Does this decoupling even work in real life? Or is it a spectrum? Is assuming the title Dominant at one end of the spectrum and simply having a dominant personality at the other? Is submissive even on the same spectrum or is it part of a complimentary one in 15 dimensions? Is a Dominant more dominant than someone who just has a dominant personality?
I personally think that I, who am pretty much a vanilla as it comes with respect to the bedroom, can absolutely be a domme, because I don't think it depends on trappings and I absolutely do not think I should be relegated to So Utterly Alien I Must Be Stared At. I feel whiny when I say it, but if a guy is dominant and it's not a kink, then when I'm dominant it's ALSO not a kink. It just IS and it's perfectly normal. (Maybe if I keep saying it, someone will believe me.) I like what I like and I resent the BDSM community for claiming my dominance as one of their kinks and I resent Vanilla society for disbelieving my existence and shoving me away.
I am hesitant to take up the role of Dominant in the kink sphere because I would be challenging expectations every step of the way and I already do that simply by living out loud in my normal life. It just seems so utterly exhausting to have to fight every battle twice.
In a lot of respects, I agree with the orientational view of sexuality in both 'who you're attracted to' sense (along with the ten billion ways of describing fluid sexuality or ones that cleave to a more binary definition) as well as the 'what you do when you play with them' sense. There are times when I just crave what I crave and no amount of introspection or armchair psychology can pry loose any reason other than, "I just do."
Still (and you knew there was a but coming, didn't you?), the concept of having a Dominant and Submissive orientation present to me somewhat of a problem.
Right now, D/s is associated with the kink sphere ( it's right there in the BDSM term!), so that is ostensibly where Dominant and Submissive individuals belong. This leads, as far as I can tell, to the conflation of power exchange with sexual requirements (orgasm denial, cock-and-ball torture, etc) and S&M requirements (I need a whip, for sure, and he must be able to take the pain I love dishing out). For power exchange to be recognized as such, there is this stereotype that it needs to be more than a relationship, that it needs little added twiddly bits that launch it from the mundane into the realm of the kinky.
This is why I hate labels. Labels make me feel trapped and angry.
So, if I self-identify as a domme - and believe me, darling, I rather love the term - I subsequently belong to that illustrious and perverted (in a good way) subculture that declares itself the BDSM community. Then, too, the kink community (as if it was some sort of great unified beast and not a sprawling conglomeration of conflicting concepts) is also a refuge for the huge swath of people who do not feel entirely safe (or whole, or accepted) within approved-of society.
But, while I like the little bits of 'extra' that the BDSM community assumes comes with D/s, I feel intensely uncomfortable even among my supposed people. "What have you done?" I am asked curiously, as if I should need to establish my domme cred. Then to come the questions, "What have you tried? What are you interested in trying?" to see if my modest and unassuming kinks align with my questioners'.
My answer is usually a shy stutter and I rail at myself afterward for not responding with more aplomb. L'esprit d'escalier, indeed. If I were to be honest, then I should say, "Well, shit. I have no idea. Most of what I do I never considered kinky." I'm *still* discovering that little episodes in my past that were perfectly normal for me, the kinky sphere lays claim on.
- Normal: Being nicknamed Mistress by my HS best friend through his own volition.
- Normal: Convincing boys (and now men) to wear dresses on a regular basis and using every excuse to do so.
- Normal: Adopting men to be my pets so I can mentor and cultivate them.
- Normal: Demanding that my feral side be acknowledged and bringing it to bed with me.
All fundamentally normal. For me. Couched in BDSM terms, I have been an acknowledged domme since HS, have a fetish for forced feminization and cross-dressing, I instinctively seek out submissive men, and I am a sexual dominant. Even with this, I would never have dreamed of calling any of my actions kinky. I am annoyed that BDSM wants them as if they should be quietly locked away from the rest of my life. The sharp, self-protective delineations of the BDSM community bother me because I was never subjected to them before, and it is as if now that my kinks are deigned 'kinky enough' to join the club, that I can no longer pretend to be one of the Vanilla People.
Nothing I did changed. I'm privileged. I was able to express my so-called fetishes through 'normal' channels and if I was considered weird by most, I was still considered awesome by the people who mattered. I knew that being called Mistress wasn't mainstream after I mentioned it to a couple of girls in my cabin at Bible camp and they appeared baffled. I remember feeling surprised that they couldn't relate and then faintly smug that I was different in a way I vastly preferred.
So I resent being encouraged to 'hide' this aspect of my personality. I'm so bog-boring normal that if I qualify for the super special secret BDSM club, then the whole entire world is kinky and they should just get the hell over themselves and dispense with this stupid dichotomy.
Then I think, "Well, what if Dominant and Submissive are not only orientations, but also basic personality traits?" I cannot deny the empirical evidence of men who crave an intimate touch on the vulnerable parts of their psyche and that it's an intensely emotional and sexual thing. I also cannot deny that some men and women are simply filled with more presence than others, more charisma and that indefinable 'something' that makes people follow their lead.
I feel kind of stupid for postulating something that is probably really obvious to everyone else, that dominance is an orientation *and* trait, and they don't necessarily have to overlap.
But if dominance can be both... can someone be a sexual dominant and have a submissive personality? Does this decoupling even work in real life? Or is it a spectrum? Is assuming the title Dominant at one end of the spectrum and simply having a dominant personality at the other? Is submissive even on the same spectrum or is it part of a complimentary one in 15 dimensions? Is a Dominant more dominant than someone who just has a dominant personality?
I personally think that I, who am pretty much a vanilla as it comes with respect to the bedroom, can absolutely be a domme, because I don't think it depends on trappings and I absolutely do not think I should be relegated to So Utterly Alien I Must Be Stared At. I feel whiny when I say it, but if a guy is dominant and it's not a kink, then when I'm dominant it's ALSO not a kink. It just IS and it's perfectly normal. (Maybe if I keep saying it, someone will believe me.) I like what I like and I resent the BDSM community for claiming my dominance as one of their kinks and I resent Vanilla society for disbelieving my existence and shoving me away.
I am hesitant to take up the role of Dominant in the kink sphere because I would be challenging expectations every step of the way and I already do that simply by living out loud in my normal life. It just seems so utterly exhausting to have to fight every battle twice.
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