Courage

My dashboard garden is back and I’m so happy to watch these beautiful creatures grow!

I feel really great in my body these days. I wish I’d known sooner what hormones could do for me. The experience of enjoying my physical body in the mirror and under my own fingertips rather than feeling trapped in it and persistently worried about how I look IS AMAZING!!! Seriously, I had no idea daily life could be like this. I think T is lifting a lifelong fog of depression and anxiety off of me and I’m very thankful for it.

To everyone who ever point blank told me to my face that “they just see me as a girl”, or “I just seem more femme rather than butch to them”, or that “I just look better when I dress girly”, or that “I’m not a tomboy b/c tomboys don’t wear dresses”, or any other reinforcement of the female femme ideal — which is already constantly crammed down my throat by the rest of the world (and to which I don’t usually choose to interact with face to face): You are a huge reason I didn’t get here earlier. I need you to know that. I need you to know that not because I want to tell you you were wrong, but because I want you to consider the weight of pressuring others to be as you wish them to be. It hurts to be told you can’t be who you feel you are. It is a painful lifestyle to persist holding a line you’re told to hold which feels wrong, and some of us are good enough at holding on, that we really need friends and to have role models who see us for who we are and who give us permission to let that line go.

I sincerely apologize to anyone if my words or actions have ever made them feel small about their identities or wrong about sharing themselves with me. It’s never been an intention of mine. I haven’t always understood as much about how my words affect each person I’m speaking to, and I know I’ll make mistakes in the future too, but I want to know when I do. I want the opportunity to reconsider the meaning of my actions. I want to be better than my mistakes.

I roundly thank everyone who has seen me and believed me and accepted me as I’ve journeyed and evolved and learned to articulate myself over the years. Without you I would still be desperately wanting things I didn’t feel I deserve to get (which is on me, but you all really helped me out a lot).

As I write, acknowledging this feeling of happiness I’ve been feeling since starting T, I want this moment to be a reminder to consider the impact of our very human desire to label others — especially to their faces — with labels we’re comfortable with rather than the labels someone else tells you they want to be labeled as. Almost every single bit of information we take in in this world is gendered, racially loaded, ableist, and constructed to tear our individualities down for the benefit of a privileged class. We can (and must) change that by considering one another not as objects, but as individual creatures with vibrant internal worlds which we will never be privy to the full intricacies of without asking first, without believing the answers we receive, and without caring to wonder more deeply about who we’re interacting with in the first place. When someone tells you who they are (and who they are not), consider believing them immediately before questioning what they’re saying. Consider asking questions about how that works if you aren’t sure you understand. Consider trusting people who gather the courage to tell you something about themselves.

Love from my glowing, growing, vibrant garden inside, and as always —

Play On My Friends,
~ Creature (Crea)

Please support my work at Patreon. For one time donations click here: Support the Artist 
~Thank you.

It’s About to Rain

It’s about to rain and I am leaving my house soon. Thunder is cracking. The heat and humidity has been terrible and a storm will pass through to wipe it all away. Reset the air. Reset our attitudes. Reset for the next swell of inflammatory summer. I am beginning my writing too late. I’ve been putting it off, feeling my own stress build — but that’s what happens when you live in a van crossing the country in a driver’s seat instead of staying on top of your email. I’m excited to be caught walking in the wet (abnormal for this cat but true). I’m scratching at the door. Let me out of here!

I want the wet to decompress in. I want the wet to soggy down my thoughts and haze, hanging humid in my brain about what next: City or country? Domlife or stage haunt? Garden and tincture or weld and glassblow? Why not all the aboves? How? Am I keeping up with my daytime disciplines or do I need to be doing more each day to find my foothold, to get ahead? I’m thirsty. I want the wet to cool me, calm me, center my body and mind. I want the wet to be, like, graphically wet. Natural lubrication from the sky over my clothes and body making things slippery smooth, and I’ll have no choice but to feel everything differently because of it. The wet slows me down even as it unglues me. Wet, as it hangs around undry, argues that we are Taking. Our. Time.

Everyone is arguing the vocabulary of identity in this heat, as if a standard could ever exist… The point of identity is intimacy. The words I whisper to you about me. My words, mine. In the big picture yes, they shouldn’t say that in front of those people, because everyone knows better these days, but what does this mean now that we’ve embraced that thing over there, and where do we put all those ideas from yesterday? On and on and on forever because as organisms cursed with the glory of life we must do the most beautiful-terrible thing constantly all the time: grow.

I, for one, am happy that we won the term “Queer” back, and that “they/them” is in vogue these days (I’ve been waiting patiently for that one for a couple of decades now), yet it seems they’re taking “Bi” away in exchange. I’ve been Bi, and even if it’s not what I use now, I don’t like the new fangled words more than that one. I think it’s fine, and unfairly villainized, and everyone knows what it means even though the echo of “two” turns a tad sour in our mouths when we taste for Gender. But that’s not what it really is trying to say. Yes? Still though, off and away she goes. I hope my made-up identity, “Sexual”, catches on one day. I know there’s a question mark containing eyebrow arch from an Ace or Ace ally in the room (written with love).

Words are imperfect.

Our attachments to them are not just by dictionary, but in association. We each associate variably.

I love the word “Cunt” because it feels so fucking good in my mouth… just like a cunt does. And “Dyke”. It’s mine. My identity. You can’t wrestle it away from me.

What are the symbols for Queer now? What pictorial phraseology do we use to wink at Stealth Queers and Passing Trans and Kinksters in a picture of “Friday at the office” before going out to haunt the night dressed in shades of inappropriate and “oh my”? Does it matter anymore? Has it all been commodified and commercialized and spread too thin to recognize? Now that we ask one another for pronouns, and get all the consents, what’s the point of a flag or a tapdance on the men’s bathroom floor? Where are our cheats and naughty, perverted, under the radar confessions flown in public now? How do we signal the quiet queering of our spaces? Or is outing it all without a legally backed oppressor in sight what we’ve been building towards? Will there be no Queer one day? Will we laugh or cry on that humid afternoon? (See, one can get all romantic and sappy about the shitty but hardcore past without being a TERF about it. Fucking wankers.)

And the rain. Slowing. Me. Down.

Even though 1s and 0s seem to make the Earth spin faster on its axis, when we get together after typing lustful confessions and someone lumbering through town to the other one’s sty, we still have to face one another. Cold water. Eye to eye. Breath and breath. Heartbeats, nerves, smiles, knee jerks, clumsy fumblings, mismatched desires, unequal libedo, and under it all a glorious sense of “am I really doing this right now?!”. Yes! The short answer. That perversion is still real. You are doing it.

So breathe. Don’t sweat the small stuff. We haven’t forgotten how to communicate completely, we’ve just been pressured to move too fast.

What do you want to know about me? I want you to ask. We can fight about politics if you scene me roundly into a second date… But for now, slow down. Let’s be wet. Wet and cool and away from the swell of inflammatory summer.

It’s raining now, I’m stepping out.

Play On My Friends,
~ Creature (Crea)

If you like my blog, please check out my Patreon Page and support me. For one time donations click here: Support the Artist

~Thank you.

T is for TRUST

“Tiger Scratches”, from a delicious and fun pre-negotiated scene where I got to say “yes” to straight razor cuts happily, and feeling safe. Photo by Jon Gunnar

Lately I have been feeling growth uncurl within me. A number of “I want tos” and “I wish I coulds” have been calling. I am ready, I think… Gulp. I read an article, imagine a scenario, pen a response… I want these things. Yes, I do.

This matters because all my life wanting has felt very unsafe to me.

Trust is an elusive imp playing tricks on what we think we want, pitting our desires against the gut’s “mmm… I don’t think so, no”… We learn to push this imp away our whole lives, listening to those around us who we feel pressured by. We learn to say “yes” when it feels like biting off more than we can chew. It’s hard to swallow, the experiences we motion ourselves through, after negotiations like these. Trust deteriorates in time, and we don’t know where we are anymore, what is good, or what we do because we think we’re supposed to. It takes time for us to learn to listen better to our guts, to our trust imps, in this life full of advertisements about what we’re supposed to want.

I do not really love sex. Perhaps this is because my first sexual experience happened at age 4, and it was a coercive, threatening, and manipulative situation which robbed me of my trust in friendship and trust for my own feelings of attraction. Maybe it’s because I was punished directly after escaping the situation, and so I carry this eternal kneejerk reaction to sexual attraction of distrust. Relationship negotiation holds within it a visceral fear that I’ll get in trouble if I pursue the thing I think I want… I get quiet and go even further away when people get angry or frustrated during sex, I glaze over when people make demands, and it’s been hard for most of my sexual history for me to stay present. I feel generally unsafe around other people’s perfectly natural desires for sex. I don’t want this though. For a lot of years I just did what other people wanted, or I measured the success of my relationships based around how regularly “it” was done, because I didn’t know how to actually connect during sex. Sex felt like a game I didn’t understand, a game I was always behind on the rules about, and I did what I thought I was supposed to because I couldn’t find my own desire for sex most of the time.

I’m glad I’m not there anymore (entirely). For me the key to trust and opening up was learning to say “no” and having my “no” respected and celebrated by those around me.

I was at a sex party once, and the theme was “asking for what you want”. Everyone came to the party prepared to practice asking for what they wanted — nothing was off the table. When everyone arrived we started our opening circle, we all had a turn introducing ourselves and revealing our first “ask” to the group. Mine was this:

I want to practice saying no. Would anyone be willing to spend some time propositioning me about various activities so I can practice saying no to them?

At the time it seemed kind of silly and counterproductive to (at a sex party) ask people to let me reject them. However, I have to say, this was one of the most healing and brilliant experiences I’ve ever had. That night’s exercise launched me into years of being able to practice my nos, so that I can actually now locate my maybes and yeses.

It was so hard to do, it turned out I needed a coach. I was approached by a few people at the party who wanted to play. They asked questions, to which I was supposed to say “no”, or “no, thank you”. It turned out I was impossibly bad at just saying no.

Them: Karin, may I kiss you?

Me: Oh, I love kissing, but maybe not right now?

Them: Well, can I pour hot wax all over your body?

Me: Wait, no fair, I love that activity! Um, maybe another time, not right now…

And so it went, with my “I’m really sorry I have to say no right now”, “well maybe later, it’s not personal, I just can’t right now”, or “that sounds interesting but I don’t think I can right now”, and so on…” Every “no” I gave was actually a maybe (?) or in reality, it was a “not-no”. I was finding it emotionally and psychologically extremely hard to pause, find my actual “no”, and simply say it while looking in the faces of my friends — friends who actively wanted me to say no!

I don’t think I’m the only person like this. I believe it’s a pretty normal response from a lot of people. I might even go as far as to say it’s probably exceedingly common among people who have experienced sexual trauma, from AFAB people in general, and I assume it’s a well practiced response from other minority people too. I think the art of “not no-ing” is heavily enculturated in our society. Part of what not no-ing is, is positioning yourself passively around a larger animal that might hurt you. Compliance is self-preservation. We hope to ease away from a situation while appearing compliant when we “not no”.

Simply put, I couldn’t put my foot down firmly because I was afraid to. Deep deep down, even in this safe space surrounded by encouraging friends I was terrified of saying no. I had one friend, let’s call her Jane, who was amazing that night. She kept asking the same question over and over again until I simply said “no” or “no, thank you”. After every qualification I made she shook her head and re-asked:

Jane: May I go down on you?

Me: That sounds really nice, but not now…

Jane: No, try again. May I go down on you Karin?

Me: No thank you, but not because I don’t like the idea of it…

Jane: May I go down on you Karin?

Me: Um, no, but ask me again sometime?

Jane: May I go down on you Karin?

Me: … … … (deep breath, crying a little, terrified) … … No. Thanks.

Jane: (Looking me in the eyes) Thank you, Karin. I’m really glad you told me no.

(I’m still really emotional reading that.)

I wish I could say I was cured from that point onward, but I haven’t been. I do know a lot more about my feelings now, and I know how to slow down and listen to myself better. As a rule these days I pause after being asked for something sexual or sensual, I try to find my “no”, and I don’t say “yes” until I can imagine doing the activity and imagine (or feel) myself wanting to do it. If I can’t imagine doing the thing, or doing things leading up to the thing, I say “no”. If I can imagine doing it and enjoying it, I say “I’d like to try”, and sometimes also “I don’t know if I’m totally into the idea, but I’d like to see if I can get into it, so I’d like to check in a bunch while we try”. If I’m ecstatically into the idea of what’s proposed, I say, “yes, I’d love to!” Sometimes when I realize I’m not into a proposed idea, while I’m finding my “no”, I’ll think of something I want to try instead. In those moments I’ll say “No, I don’t want to ____, but I’d like to ____ if you’re interested in that instead?”. Honest negotiation is what ensues.

If I can’t trust your “no”, I can’t trust your “yes”. This is where I have learned to stand, and it’s a radically helpful idea to hold onto. It has helped me communicate more directly, clearly, and unapologetically about sex, BDSM, and my boundaries with people. After practicing it over the years it’s become more and more easy to communicate about (and even feel) my feelings. I’ve found a lot of people I’m negotiating with appreciate these conversations too. Most people are struggling on some level with social expectations or worse when it comes to sensuality and sexuality. When I am direct and lead with my boundaries and desires, I find other people often feel safer talking about what they do and do not want as well. I’ve been able to negotiate lovely and crazy-seeming things with people consensually and to great end because we negotiated by asking one another about what we don’t want, which then frees us to outline exactly what we each do want. This in turn leads us to more deeply trust each other and ourselves in the process.

Play On My Friends,
~ Creature (Crea)

If you like my blog, please check out my Patreon Page and support me. For one time donations click here: Support the Artist

~Thank you.

Age Verification: www.ABCsOfKink.com addresses adult sensual and sexual information, including imagery associated with a wide variety of BDSM topics and themes. This website is available to readers who are 18+ (and/or of legal adult age within their districts). If you are 18+, please select the "Entry" button below. If you are not yet of adult age as defined by your country and state or province, please click the "Exit" link below. If you're under the age of consent, we recommend heading over to www.scarleteen.com — an awesome website, which is more appropriate to minors looking for information on these subjects. Thank you!