If, rather, you know there’s something wrong, bad, or unhealthy about a pattern of your own behavior and your ideology happens to agree, that’s different. And that may well be what daddysonlygirl meant. But the words read as “How can I want to be submissive, given that I accept feminism?” not as “I know my submissiveness comes from this broken facet of my personality, and I think my feminism helps me to articulate that.”

And similarly with the ideological point: “I’ve accepted feminism*, and therefore I believe certain things about what it means to be dominated, yet I yearn to be. Therefore there must be something wrong with me.”

Which, well… I’ve heard “I’ve accepted Christ, and therefore believe certain things about what it means to be homosexual (or at least to act on those desires.) Yet I yearn to. Which must mean I’m resisting God.” so many times that I have a hard time not seeing the two as similar. That seems to me to be what the quote says, so I have a hard time seeing “I seek it out because I’m broken” in there.

*Personally, I don’t believe that “feminism” full stop says this; I believe certain feminisms do, and that those feminisms have an incomplete analysis of power-over and what it is.

Myca, what Daddysonlygirl said was that she felt broken and did BDSM because of it; not that she felt broken because she did BDSM.

Rereading her comment, I think that either interpretation fits with what she wrote, but I hadn’t considered the one you point out, and I should.

I think that it’s probably true that BDSM as a sexual identity has both a genetic and an environmental component, but, as with homosexuality, I also think it’s going to be incredibly hard to say where one begins and another ends.

When daddysonlygirl says:

I envy their ability to own up to what they enjoy, to never look under the surface of it, to ask “Why does this pain feel good, when the whole point of pain is that it ought not to”, or “Why do i want to be dominated so badly,” when the entire seeming point of feminism is that that anathema.

I read two ways in which she feels bad about her BDSM desires, and both of them have to do with the expectations of the world around her (’pain should hurt, not feel good’ and ‘my desires are anathema to the teachings of feminism’) and not her own desires.

As specific claims, those seem to be to have more to do with feeling broken because of her orientation rather than having her orientation because she feels broken.

—Myca

I take the woman at her word. And it does not follow, Trin, that if someone cannot change then their desires are orientational. Taking as true (because I agree) that BDSM is orientational and not a response to trauma for some of us, I don’t see any reason to question other people’s conclusions that they are living out the results of trauma. If they don’t like it but can’t change it, I don’t see how that’s any different from people who get up every day and deal with disability from physical trauma.

Because if it’s the latter, well, I really DO subscribe to the idea that BDSM is orientational for some people. And if you’re someone who wants desperately to change and can’t, that’s a pretty good indicator that you’re one of those people, to me. (I was one of them for years myself and that’s part of why I feel this way.)

Which means that I think anything even roughly equivalent to “reparative therapy” is doomed to fail, if not to do deep emotional harm. It’s a consequence of the view I hold that I believe the right thing to do would be — if I did in fact feel I have any right to intrude on their lives — to try to convince them that being interested in BDSM does not mean they’re broken.

So if respect means not believing that and not believing that is really what’s best, somehow, I’m rather caught.

I really don’t know what to say. It’s heartbreaking.

Guys, I don’t want to invalidate your experiences, and I understand that you feel broken, but for me, it’s like hearing someone say how much they hate being gay and how they feel like there’s something wrong with them because of it.

I don’t believe that it’s true that you are broken, but I believe it’s true that that’s how you feel, and I wish you didn’t.

—Myca

My apologies. I’m writing from work and was unclear. “When did you become kinky/when did you become vanilla” doesn’t bother me as a question. Mind you, that’s because I’ve usually viewed it as a question about personal sexual self-awareness.

It’s the subtext of “you are broken for not liking kink/liking *my* kink” that I was talking about. This isn’t to deny people give kinksters shit with the “you are broken for liking kink”. It’s just that I thought it amusing seeing it presented here as an ironic reversal when I’ve seen it said flat out.

# antiprincess Writes:
October 23rd, 2007 at 6:17 am
maybe I’m misreading…what am I doing that is so damaging here in the PRESENT that others want to cleanse the FUTURE of people like me?

You’re misreading.

There’s a big difference between active dislike (”you want to cleanse the future of people like me”) and non-protective neutrality (”you don’t really care if people like you are around or not.”)

Can you see the difference?

Alternatively, think of it like this: If I wanted to cleanse the future of people like you, I’d want to cleanse the present of people like you, too.

But I don’t. I don’t really care one way or the other.

of course, if I was not here (or future-here?), I would not care. there would be no “I” to perform “caring”. but what is so abhorrent about me (or people like me) that the world would prefer that there were far fewer people like me?

Again, you are mixing up two statements.

“I don’t care whether or not you are here” IS NOT THE SAME AS “I wish you were not here.”

If you think it is the same, then you should explain why “i don’t care” isn’t also equivalent to “I wish you WERE here.”

The “when did you become vanilla” is actually I’ve seen lots of evangelical kinksters actually say unironically. IT always pissed me off.

How do you feel about the question reversed? “When did you become Kinky?”

Do you feel differently?

—Myca

The “when did you become vanilla” is actually I’ve seen lots of evangelical kinksters actually say unironically. IT always pissed me off. (The “you’re just afraid to open yourself up to being ‘truly’ kinky - usually said when you say something isn’t your kink.)

maybe I’m misreading (I promise I’m not deliberately trying to be obtuse, but I may be a savant in that capacity) - but when I read that question, I can’t help but be inspired to ask another couple questions -

why don’t I have a right to “be here”? why don’t others like me have a right to “be here” in the future? what am I doing that is so damaging here in the PRESENT that others want to cleanse the FUTURE of people like me?

of course, if I was not here (or future-here?), I would not care. there would be no “I” to perform “caring”. but what is so abhorrent about me (or people like me) that the world would prefer that there were far fewer people like me?

# lalouve Writes:
October 23rd, 2007 at 3:23 am
You don’t care if my sexual orientation goes away? I do.

Why? I don’t mean why would you care NOW, but why would you care when you’re not here?

Of course, were I not bdsm oriented I would, presumably, be of another sexual orientation. I think the point is that I don’t want to be of any other orientation.

You may not want to be of a different orientation–neither do I, for that matter–but the people in the future who will be of different orientation are not you..

This reads to me like telling a gay person that it would be OK if all gayness disappeared, because gay isn’t all they are, and they’d be straight and happy with it.

NOW you get it. Similarly, it’d be just fine with me if the world in the future was some sort of otherwise-idyllic homosexual society. Why on earth would I give a shit? It’s one thing to have a personal preference for PIV sex, and another thing to care whether other not-yet-born people share that same preference.

So why would you care when you’re not here?