needed. It made sense to me. "Of course," I wrote, over and over. And at the same time I
acknowledged that I had considered BDSM before -- but that I hadn't really known what
that meant, and I'd had no idea how I would feel if I found it. I knew what I was thinking,
I knew what I had been thinking, and yet at the same time I didn't know. I had no idea. I
was completely confused.
I'm not so confused anymore. These days.... There are a lot of things I don't know, but
there are an awful lot of things I do know, too. I have gotten pretty good at knowing what
I want, even when it's hard to figure it out. And I have a very good sense of my
boundaries.
But I also keep trying to figure out how to expand them. This isn't just true with BDSM.
Arguably, my urge to go to Africa and put myself through extreme culture shock was
similar to the urge I feel to expand my head with BDSM. Some of the things I want to do
with my life and my body and my self seem almost opaque; totally irrational; a little
scary -- even to me. I love experiencing and analyzing emotions; experiencing and
analyzing personal connections -- I want to do more of that, even when there are
emotional risks. What's past that emotion? What's under my heart? How much can I feel
for another person, and in what ways can I manage that? Which part of my mind will
catch me if I end up going over the edge? Will anything?
* * *
And so, even though I have a good sense of my boundaries, I also occasionally have the
sense that anything could happen.
This is not always dramatic. Sometimes it is quite tame, like with my current
polyamorous leanings. When I was at dinner with my father, he gently expressed concern
about how being polyamorous might affect me emotionally. He wasn't trying to tell me
what to do -- just that he's having trouble understanding where I'm at. "For me," he said,
"sexual relationships encourage emotional attachment," and talked about how he bonds
with one person at a time. He added, "I simply find that if my relationship is truly
satisfying, I don't want more than one; I can't convince myself to be interested in more
than one partner."
I used to feel the same way. Dad knows it, and I know it; we've said these things before.
It's not like I don't understand how he feels -- I totally do.
And there's no guarantee that, over the course of experimenting with polyamory, I won't
bond with a partner in a way that feels monogamous -- and then get hurt if they won't be
monogamous with me. I'm not convinced that I'll feel completely secure as I continue to
pursue polyamory. Recently I had one difficult morning that featured two simultaneous
breakups, and that was a bit much to deal with! In short, I'm not certain that polyamory is
my ideal. But I'm also no longer certain that it's not. And I'm really enjoying trying it out.
Here's the thing: I'm not sure what I'm thinking... but that's okay. I know I could end up
getting hurt... and that's okay. I could get my heart broken: that's what you risk when
you experiment with the alchemy of your own emotions, your hormones, your body, your
self. But I'm watching myself and being careful and communicating as clearly as I
possibly can, and it seems to be going fine. And if poly really doesn't work out for me, I
can go back to monogamy.
And hey, at least if I do get my heart broken, it's something else to analyze obsessively
and then write about! That's something to look forward to.
* * *
This can be found on the Internet at:
http://clarissethorn.com/blog/2010/12/13/slogan-you-dont-always-know-what-yourethinking/
* * *
* * *
* * *
ABUSE:
[theory] Thinking More Clearly About BDSM versus Abuse
I wrote this post in 2011. As I noted in the intro to "The Alt Sex Anti-Abuse Dream
Team," other BDSMers have been writing about this more and more, and the discussion
is really heating up right now, in 2012. Thomas MacAulay Millar has a particularly good
series of posts on the topic, starting with:
http://yesmeansyesblog.wordpress.com/2012/03/23/theres-a-war-on-part-1-troublesbeen-brewing/
* * *
Thinking More Clearly About BDSM versus Abuse
Years ago, when I first started thinking about BDSM and abuse, I -- like a lot of feminist
BDSMers -- was defensive.
We get scared of the accusation that "BDSM is always abuse"... and we're accustomed to
accusations from certain feminists such as "those of you who pretend to like BDSM just
have Patriarchy Stockholm Syndrome and don't know what you really want"... and often,
we're also fighting our own inner BDSM stigma demons. We get angry that our sexual
needs are seen as politically problematic, or unimportant.
And so, for a lot of people, our instinctive angle on abuse in the BDSM community is:
"Shut up! That's not what's going on!" And that's a problem.
Obviously, I don't think BDSM is inherently abusive! Exploring my personal BDSM
desires has given me some extraordinary, consensual, transcendent experiences and
connections. I also genuinely believe that BDSM has the potential to control, subvert, and
manage power. BDSM can be a place where people learn to understand bad power
dynamics in past relationships; it can be a place where people learn to manage or
destroy bad power dynamics in their current relationships; it can be a place where
people find glory, self-knowledge and freedom by manipulating their own reactions
and responses to power. The sex theorist Pepper Mint has a great, complicated essay
about this called "Towards a General Theory of BDSM and Power". And here's one of
my favorite quotations on the matter, from a submissive and former blogger who went by
violetwhite:
It's ironic that the most perverse manipulations of power in my life occurred in a past
vanilla relationship, where I tolerated tyranny because the normative structure of our
relationship obscured the fact that that is what it was.
Still, I've seen things happen in the BDSM community that turned my stomach. Terrible
manipulative behavior exhibited by people who have the greatest reputations. Blaming
the victim when they try to speak up. Telling "rumor mongers" to shut up when people
are trying to talk openly about problematic community members. The BDSM subculture
has its own version of rape culture, where "lying bitch" and "drama queen" and
"miscommunication" are used against abuse survivors. Miscommunications do happen...
but not everything that could be a miscommunication is actually a miscommunication.
Oh yes, rape culture can happen in BDSM just the same way it happens in the "vanilla"
mainstream. And there are certainly people in my local community who I would never
get involved with, because I do not trust them.
Being defensive about BDSM and abuse won't help; yes, BDSM is stigmatized and
stereotyped, but the abuse is still a problem. So after I started blogging, I tried to move
past my defensiveness and write more concretely -- to write about what exactly the
BDSM community does to work against abuse. One of my first posts on BDSM and
abuse was called "Evidence That The BDSM Community Does Not Enable Abuse." It
highlighted anti-abuse initiatives within the BDSM community. As I learned more about
BDSM and abuse, and my perspective got more nuanced, I wrote a more expansive post
called "The Alt Sex Anti-Abuse Dream Team." It covered all the information I'd given in
the earlier post, and also talked about how I personally would structure an anti-abuse
initiative with alt-sex people in mind.
Looking back now, those posts still strike me as defensive. I was making good points, but
I also think that I didn't fully understand where some feminists are coming from when
they react negatively to BDSM. This past year, I've learned a lot more about abusive
gender-based violence, power, and control. And I've concluded that while BDSM is
obviously not equivalent to abuse, we need better theory to describe the difference
between BDSM and abuse, and we should try to avoid defensiveness while articulating
that theory.
I've written before that one thing I think people can do is try to "start from a position of
strength, and seek strength afterwards." The overall point of that maxim is that any given
BDSM activity can eventually make all parties feel more supported, more capable, more
powerful in the world. That's my ideal end goal; that is what I personally would aim for
with my BDSM practice. Perhaps I might do an intense BDSM scene that makes me
feel terrible in the moment -- or for a lot of moments... but I want to be sure it will
make me more supported, more capable, more powerful later.
That's an awfully vague maxim, though, and one that can be different for every person. I
may have found a more concrete focus in a 1984 anti-abuse concept -- the Power &
Control Wheel:
In 1984, staff at the Domestic Abuse Intervention Project (DAIP) began developing
curricula for groups for men who batter and victims of domestic violence. We wanted a
way to describe battering for victims, offenders, practitioners in the criminal justice
system and the general public. Over several months, we convened focus groups of women
who had been battered. We listened to heart-wrenching stories of violence, terror and
survival. After listening to these stories and asking questions, we documented the most
common abusive behaviors or tactics that were used against these women. The tactics
chosen for the wheel were those that were most universally experienced by battered
women.
In a BDSM context, a lot of the behaviors listed on the Power & Control Wheel could be
part of a consensual encounter -- violence, headgames, name-calling, all kinds of things
can be BDSM. But this part, this is important:
MINIMIZING, DENYING AND BLAMING:
* Making light of the abuse and not taking her concerns about it seriously.
* Saying the abuse didn't happen.
* Shifting responsibility for abusive behavior.
* Saying she caused it.
(The original wheel uses gendered language, but I'd like to note that although abuse is
most often perpetrated by men against women, abuse can happen in any kind of
relationship and to people of any gender.)
In the brilliant documentary Graphic Sexual Horror, which profiles a now-defunct
BDSM porn site, there's footage of a scene with a porn model named S4. The dominant
partner slaps S4 across the face, and S4 reacts angrily. She says something like, "We
didn't talk about that in advance!" The dominant doesn't apologize; he doesn't take her
seriously, and he doesn't talk to her carefully or work to calm her down. Instead, the
dominant partner snaps: "We can't talk about everything in advance," and aggressively
demands to know whether she's ready to continue. This is an example of minimizing,
denying, and blaming.
I have some sympathy for his awkward position -- I've made small mistakes as a
dominant partner, too, and he's correct that it's impossible to talk about everything in
advance. But the way to deal with those mistakes is by apologizing sincerely and
making sure the mistake never happens again. For example, one of my exes really
hated being bitten on the lips, and at one point I bit him on the lower lip. And he called
me out, and I said, "I'm sorry," and I put my arms around him to offer comfort; I said, "I
won't do it again," and I didn't.
My experience of BDSM relationships is that it's best for there to be both communication
ahead of time -- and lots of discussion and processing afterwards. Both partners get to set
"hard limits": things they absolutely don't want to do. If one partner has concerns, those
concerns get airtime. Both partners acknowledge a role in the proceedings, and blame
isn't spread around; even if something goes wrong, the discussion focuses on how to
prevent that from happening again rather than making accusations.
And if BDSM is happening, it must be possible to acknowledge it, even if it's subtle. For
example, I ran into a partner on the street the other day; he gave me a hug and held me in
place for a while, even though I tried to move away. This, my friends, is subtle BDSM.
Which was fine with me! But it was only okay because I knew I could call him out on it
later and be sure it was acknowledged!
And I did mention it later, and he did acknowledge it, and we both laughed and said it
was hot. And if I had told him not to do it, that would have been okay too. And the fact
that I knew I could talk about it, that I knew I could tell him not to do it and he'd
listen... meant that I also could have declined to mention it, and I would have felt
fine.
Something else worth acknowledging here is time boundaries. If a person is indeed
calling names, controlling what the other person does, etc, then it's often useful for it to
be communicated -- and also time-bounded. For example: "You can only call me pathetic
during this sexual encounter. Otherwise, please don't."
There are BDSM couples that get rid of time boundaries, and have ongoing BDSM
relationship situations; there are also BDSM couples that don't use safewords. I think
those relationships require a lot of understanding and care from all parties involved. I've
never gone without safewords, but sometimes I go without time-bounding, and when I
do, I make very sure that I can trust my partner and communicate well with him. (Thomas
MacAulay Millar calls safeword-free BDSM "the advanced class.")
The same group that made the Power & Control Wheel has another useful wheel -- the
Equality Wheel. Here's the text of the wheel:
ECONOMIC PARTNERSHIP:
* Making money decisions together.
* Making sure both partners benefit from financial arrangements.
NEGOTIATION AND FAIRNESS:
* Seeking mutually satisfying resolutions to conflict.
* Accepting changes.
* Being willing to compromise.
NON-THREATENING BEHAVIOR:
* Talking and acting so that she feels safe and comfortable expressing herself and doing
things.
RESPECT:
* Listening to her non-judgmentally.
* Being emotionally affirming and understanding.
* Valuing her opinions.
SHARED RESPONSIBILITY:
* Mutually agreeing on a fair distribution of work.
* Making family decisions together.
RESPONSIBLE PARENTING:
* Sharing parental responsibilities.
* Being a positive, nonviolent role model for the children.
HONESTY AND ACCOUNTABILITY:
* Accepting responsibility for self.
* Acknowledging past use of violence.
* Admitting being wrong.
* Communicating openly and truthfully.
TRUST AND SUPPORT:
* Supporting her goals in life.
* Respecting her right to her own feelings, friends, activities, and opinions.
All these things ought to be present in a BDSM relationship! Some people do heavy roleplay
situations where they have specific personas that they don't want to break out of...
and they still can make sure that all those elements are included. For example, they can
keep simultaneous journals about the relationship, and thereby keep up with each others'
feelings and consent without breaking out of their roles.
I also think that the list is especially useful in that it highlights places where nonconsensual
control is likely to happen... and therefore, places where BDSMers
should be especially careful. For example, failing to support a partner's life goals would
be okay in the middle of an intense BDSM encounter. But afterwards, it might be good to
give extra support, just because that can be such an important genuine danger spot.
Just like vanilla people, BDSMers have a lot of unspoken elements of our relationships.
For example -- the partner I mentioned earlier, who held me in place when I gave him a
hug on the street. We didn't negotiate that particular act ahead of time. But we have an
established relationship, and we've done similar things before; I knew that if I wanted to
talk about it -- or ask him not to do it -- then he'd listen. And, even more importantly, the
rest of our relationship lines up with the Equality Wheel.
* * *
This can be found on the Internet at:
http://clarissethorn.com/blog/2011/08/02/thinking-more-clearly-about-bdsm-versusabuse/
* * *
* * *
* * *
COMMUNICATION:
[theory] What Happens After An S&M Encounter "Gone Wrong"
I wrote this in late 2011. At the time, I didn't mention another factor that makes it
important to talk about S&M screwups: we should do it because talking openly about
honest mistakes makes it harder for actual abusers to hide in the S&M community. As I
note at the end of this piece, sometimes a miscommunication is a real miscommunication,
but sometimes it's a "miscommunication" that's covering for abuse. The only way we can
learn to distinguish the two is to talk openly about our screwups. It's an intimidating
proposition; for one thing, many outsiders leap to label BDSM as "all abuse, all the
time," and none of us wants to give those folks anything that they could use for
ammunition. But we have to start talking about this stuff more openly, because the
alternative is creating a community where it's much easier to get away with abuse.
In Thomas MacAulay Millar's epic series on abuse in the BDSM community, he's got a
whole post dedicated to the various types of miscommunications and
mythcommunications that can occur: http://yesmeansyesblog.wordpress.com/2012/04/30/
theres-a-war-on-part-5-wallowing-in-the-sl-op/
Otherwise, I hope that this piece is a fairly complete treatment of this incredibly difficult
topic.
* * *
What Happens After An S&M Encounter "Gone Wrong"
I've often thought that BDSMers should talk more about our "failed encounters."
Sometimes the best way to learn is through "failure," or by looking at others' "failures."
But when a BDSM scene "goes wrong," it's often highly personal for everyone
concerned. So it's really hard to talk about and really hard to write about -- both for the
dominant and submissive partners. This is just like any relationship, really. After all,
people rarely talk about their most embarrassing or awkward or otherwise difficult
"mistakes made" during vanilla sex, right?
(I use phrases like "failed encounter" and "gone wrong" and "mistakes" with caution,
because I think these situations can often be viewed as learning experiences, and
therefore they are successful for a lot of purposes! But certainly in the moment they feel
like screwups, and a lot of the time they can make the whole relationship very difficult,
and I think that most people who have been through them feel as though some kind of
failure happened... whether it was a failure of understanding, communication, empathy,
caution, or something else.)
Much of the problem, I think, is that people have such a hard time communicating
after serious miscommunications and mistakes.
The following quotation is from Staci Newmahr's Playing At The Edge, an excellent
ethnography of the BDSM community. (I've changed a few jargon terms for the sake of
accessibility.)
Sophie had been engaged in a long and intimate S&M relationship with Carl, a friend
whom she deeply trusted. During the encounter she describes below, Carl changed his
approach, and Sophie subsequently felt that Carl was somehow not quite himself. Sophie
and Carl never quite recovered from the incident; though they remained friends and tried
to do S&M again, it was, according to Sophie, never the same.
Sophie says: "He was very much a rope top. That was his big thing, was tying people up.
And he was excellent at tying people up. And our dynamic was always -- I mean, yes, he
would absolutely hurt me when the time came for that, but there was also always this
element -- even when he was hurting me, it was done in this incredibly, like, touchingly
caring way. And especially when he was tying me up, it was this soothing, wonderful
thing."
Sophie continues, "So one day... Carl starts an encounter with me. Carl had decided in
his head, from all the things that he's heard me say about how I play with another
partner, that that's what I really want from an interaction, in order for it to be the most
gratifying and valuable. So we proceeded to have an encounter where Carl was not Carl.
And I didn't stop it because it was so like, I couldn't understand what was going on. I
couldn't understand why it felt so horrible. And it wasn't that I didn't trust him, because I
trust him completely. [ ... ] I just couldn't figure out what the problem is, I felt horrible
through the whole thing. And he was so out of touch with me that he wasn't even aware of
how horrible I was feeling. The encounter went on for some time... and the second it was
over, I... was just, like, you know, traumatized. And he was like, 'Oh my God, what's
wrong?' [and] he carried me into the other room. I said something like, 'Where did my
Carly go?' and then he started to cry. [ ... ] He's like, 'I was trying to give you this
sadistic experience.'"
In Sophie's story, Carl's risk backfires.... The risks were unsuccessful; each ended up
emotionally distraught and distant. Ultimately, they sacrificed the relationship. (pages
179-180)
Man, that description is so intense. Let's talk about it.
The first thing worth noting about Sophie's story is that, while she probably had a
safeword, she didn't use it: she says that she "didn't stop it." Sometimes, in really
confusing S&M scenes, submissives have trouble using their safewords. This does not
mean safewords are worthless... but as Thomas MacAulay Millar put it when we wrote
about safewords, "Tops can never be on cruise control." Non-verbal signals matter, and if
an S&M partner -- top or bottom! -- starts reacting in an unusual way, it's great to check
in with them even if they haven't used their safeword. Safewords are a useful additional
way of communicating about sex, but they can't replace all communication.
Note also how hard the situation was on the top partner, not just the bottom. Carl ended
up crying afterwards!
Next, what I find myself wondering is whether Sophie and Carl could have
communicated past this incident. Sophie obviously trusted Carl, and presumably he
trusted her. Could they have talked it out and had a successful relationship afterwards? It
would have been hard, but maybe they could have done it.
I've (rarely) had similar experiences myself -- where boundaries were severely tested, and
afterwards it was difficult for both me and my partner to work through it. It can
absolutely have an immense impact on the relationship. I write about this a bit in
Confessions of a Pickup Artist Chaser; here's a quotation from a section in my book
where I'm talking to a dominant partner, with whom I just had such a difficult encounter:
Sometimes, these things happen. One partner pushes a boundary, breaks it; maybe the
boundary was unspoken; maybe the dominant misreads signals; maybe the submissive
didn't yet realize that the boundary was there. When it comes to S&M, these things can
be so dramatic... yet sometimes they're nobody's fault. We find these mental and
emotional blocks, and we call them landmines.
My partner didn't hit the landmine on purpose. He wasn't trying to push me as hard as he
did. And I didn't warn him off. So the important question becomes -- how does one deal
with such a situation afterwards?
... "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm really sorry. I never want to do that to you again."
"It's okay," I said. "These things happen. But please do be careful. But don't worry...." I
trailed off, trying to find words.
It's so hard to know how to talk about this, especially with people who aren't used to
discussing S&M. When there's a fuckup, sometimes both sides feel betrayed. The
submissive might think: "Maybe I didn't tell you exactly what to avoid, but sometimes it's
too much to think about, sometimes it's hard to understand in the moment, sometimes I
don't know ahead of time. Okay, so I pushed myself too hard, but I did it because I'm so
into you; I did it because, in that moment, I lost track of myself. And anyway, I thought
you could read me. I thought you understood me. I thought you knew. You've read me
perfectly well before; why not this time? Is it that you don't care?"
Whereas the dominant might think: "Maybe I went too far, but I thought I could trust you
to stop me. I thought I could trust you to tell me. I don't want to harm you, I just want to
push you; I want to break down walls with you. I want to see your eyes go deep and soft.
It's not fair for me to feel like I fucked up, because you fucked up, too. I thought you
could take care of yourself. I thought you knew. You've communicated perfectly well
before; why not this time? Can I rely on you?"
That particular relationship didn't last, and I think that our most difficult encounter
probably affected our trust for each other through the end. Still, I can tell you how we
worked on it at the time -- and I can tell you that it felt really good. We just listened to
each other. And we both assumed that the other person had good intent. By the end of
talking it out -- which admittedly took a really long time; multiple days -- I trusted him
more than ever and I felt incredibly close to him.
I've been thinking a lot about classic feminist anti-abuse models, which describe how
abusers accomplish abuse. One of the tactics abusers consistently use is Minimizing,
Denying, and Blaming their partners. Abusers claim that the abuse didn't happen; they
claim it wasn't important; they blame their partners for what happened. A partner who is
willing to listen and change will respond openly to criticism and to mistakes: a nonabusive
partner will not minimize, deny, or blame.
And those three things are what my ex-partner did not do. He never claimed that our
difficult encounter didn't happen; he never put the blame on me; he never insisted that it
was no big deal. He didn't even come close to doing those things while we talked it
through. He took his emotions and dealt honestly with them, and I did my best to do the
same.
Also, in BDSM, we often talk about the concept of "aftercare": that is, what we say and
do after a BDSM scene to ground ourselves, bring ourselves back into the world, and
connect with our partners. It's important to give careful aftercare after any BDSM
encounter, but if the encounter has been particularly difficult, it's doubly important. I
have personally had good experiences leaving Super Intense Conversations like the one I
describe above until post-aftercare, when all partners have calmed down and dealt with
any immediate emotional responses.
I'm writing vaguely, so here are some concrete suggestions for things to say during the
conversation after a difficult BDSM encounter:
* "I'm sorry."
* "I still like you and think you're a good person."
* "Do you want to talk about this now? If not now, then let's set a concrete time for later."
* "I'm feeling really vulnerable and confused right now."
* "Why do you think that happened? How were you reading me, and what were you
thinking as you responded to me?"
* "How do we feel about this now that we've discussed it, and how can we keep it from
happening again?"
* "What have we learned about landmines? Are there any particular words or actions that
are definitely off-limits from now on?"
I have one final super important caveat to add here: Not all "screwups" are actually
screwups. Some are just plain abuse. A human-shaped predator will use words like
"miscommunication" and "mistake" to cover up what they do. This post is focused on
honest errors, but there are dishonest and evil people out there. In particular, if a person
"keeps screwing up"... that's a terribly bad sign. It is not an inherent part of BDSM to
feel roiled up and confused and alienated after a BDSM encounter; most BDSMers
feel more intimate and connected after successful encounters.
UPDATE, March 2012: I just found some notes that I took during a workshop about
BDSM edgeplay that was run by Mollena Williams in late December. (Edgeplay is a term
for BDSM activities that feel especially intense for the participants.) Mollena suggests
some questions to ask beforehand:
* Have I seen my partner do S&M before? What did they say or do that made me feel
good and comfortable? What did they say that made me have an intense reaction? -- Pass
this information on to the partner ahead of time.
* What does my gut feeling say about this person? -- If you have a bad gut feeling about
a person, listen to it! Especially for edgeplay.
Mollena also suggested that when BDSMers play at the edge, they "make a contingency
plan" ahead of time... not just for the participants, but for everyone watching, since such
activities often take place at dungeons. She noted that such a "contingency plan" might
contain:
* Honesty and thoroughness, of course
* Each partner giving each other explicit permission to safeword
* Each partner giving each other explicit permission for "things to not be okay"
afterwards
* Having someone on hand that each partner can talk to afterwards -- not necessarily the
same person for everyone involved. This person could be an observer, or might know
everyone involved in the scene, or might be relatively separate from it all such as a kinkaware
therapist, but the really important thing is that this person can give emotional
support in every imaginable scenario.
Thanks, Mollena, for the workshop and the thoughts. I've never made such a contingency
plan myself, but I definitely think it's worth considering for people who are planning a
heavy scene.
* * *
This can be found on the Internet at:
http://clarissethorn.com/blog/2011/12/09/what-happens-after-an-sm-encounter-gonewrong/
I wrote this in 2012.
* * *
* * *
* * *
S&M:
[theory] Aftercare or Brainwashing?
* * *
Aftercare or Brainwashing?
Yes, it's another article about abuse and S&M, but I'm going to cover a lot more than that.
I'll talk about intimacy and bodily reactions and how these things build a relationship --
whether consensual or abusive. And I'll talk about how to deal with them, too.
Last year, I received an email from a woman who wanted to talk about sexual desire that
exists alongside real abuse. She has been abused, but she is sexually aroused by S&M,
and she struggles with boundaries a lot. She wrote to me:
Here's what destroys you: that some of us are designed to shut down and feel terror and
horror and arousal and shame all at the same time, to crumple before horrible people, to
feel aroused even as they genuinely destroy you. This is not in any one's best interest. It's
not hot, it's not awesome. And yet it's there.
The worst pain for some of us, that makes you want to scream and not exist and makes
you want to scream to the heavens that you want to die and escape being in your own
body is not that you are afraid he will come back. It's that you are aroused by the
possibility that he will. And other than destroying your very self, you can't stop it. It is the
cruelest of design flaws and the worst people understand it and the most compassionate
people don't.
However, the conclusion is not that some people want abuse. By definition, abuse is
something that destroys you, that leaves you feeling violated and harmed in a way you
don't want. And part of that mechanism, that involves the desire for the abuse to
continue, is that many of us are designed to want more intimacy once intimacy has been
initiated with a person. Many of us don't want to be left.
And the agony of feeling harmed by being left by someone you never wanted to be there
in the first place is confusing and can be debilitating.
No one wants to be harmed in this way. Among abuse survivor communities the arousal
involved in abuse situations is often called "body betrayal," but this doesn't seem to
encompass how deep the desires can be for some people. At the root, the desires are
often the same desires that fit into normal healthy intimate relationships. To be loved, to
have an ongoing interaction, to be seen and understood at the root of all your emotion, to
be taken sexually and feel the pleasure of another enjoying your sexual arousal. But
these emotions have been exploited and manipulated for the gain of others.
For some number of people who have experienced abuse, the greatest split within the self
does not simply come from how horrific the acts themselves were but from the feelings of
desire and pleasure that can happen in human beings even during horrific unwanted
acts. For some of us, BDSM can be a safe way to explore unpacking some of this desire
and how these arousal patterns got mixed up with horrific things -- or were already
hooked up to horrific things and that pre-existing fact was exploited by a harmful person.
And for some of us, taking that out and playing with it may not be a necessary part of
recovery at all.
But simply knowing this -- the fact that your arousal and pleasure systems can be
activated by harmful people is ok -- it does not mean you want it, it does not mean that it
was good for you, or that anyone should have treated you in that way. That can be the
greatest healing in and of itself.
I want to thank her for allowing me to publish her words. Her description is so far from
how I usually discuss or experience S&M; and yet I see connections, too, and people
rarely discuss those connections.
* * *
Aftercare: Intimacy Within Positive and Consensual S&M
A while back, a study came out that established that a consenting, positive S&M
experience increases a couple's intimacy afterwards. I cite that study all the time, but I
still find its existence kinda absurd; I mean, they could have just asked us how it felt. On
the bright side, if S&M is being studied by Real Researchers, it's a sign that S&M is
becoming more widely accepted. Yet for all its hormone level measurements and mood
surveys, I didn't feel like the study got anywhere near the heart of S&M and how S&M
creates such extraordinary intimacy. Why would it? Studies are science, and aftercare is
art.
I've previously defined aftercare as "a cool-down period after an S&M encounter, which
often involves reassurance and a discussion of how things went." That's a decent quick
definition, but there's a lot more to it. Bodily violence sometimes creates a mental
malleability and vulnerability that can be used in good ways... but also in terrible ways. I
see aspects of this in competitive sports, especially the ones that involve fighting and
hurting other people very directly. (Have you ever seen that phenomenon where two guys
fight each other and then become Best Friends right afterwards?)
Being together with an S&M partner during aftercare can be used to free people, to make
them feel amazing and establish extraordinary intimacy. But it can hurt people too; it can
hurt them terribly.
Aftercare, like subspace, is one of the most mysterious parts of S&M. Like subspace, a
lot of S&Mers describe aftercare in nigh-mystical language. One excellent page of
aftercare advice begins by saying:
Aftercare is the last act of the SM drama. It is the culmination, the pulling together of all
loose ends, the finishing touches, the final communion between sharers of the SM ritual,
the phase where the participants formally give the fantasy scene a context in everyday
reality. Its technical purpose is to transition both players from the elevated states created
in a scene [i.e., an S&M encounter] back into normalcy, returning to the motor control
and awareness they will need to drive home once the scene is over. But as any good SM
practitioner will tell you, it's much more than that. It is the time after the action when the
participants come together in mutual affirmation that something special was created and
shared. It is when affection and closeness is offered and sought. It is, at very least, the
proper time to express thanks to the person who has shared this tiny segment of your life
with you. It can be, and often is, the most beautiful part of a scene, and it is part of the
scene. To skip it altogether is as rude as having dinner at a friend's house and then
bolting once you've eaten your fill.
Aftercare is not always extraordinary, the same way S&M isn't always extraordinary. Not
everyone wants or needs aftercare, although I've always felt that if you "don't do
aftercare," that's something to warn your partner about ahead of time.
I guess from the outside, aftercare often looks like a combination of snuggling and
chatting and giggling -- sometimes, crying and/or comforting. From the inside, though,
aftercare can feel like... a shot of pure empathy. Blissful connection. Words like
"basking" and "glowing" and "transcending" come to mind. As someone said to me when
I was first getting into S&M: "Very few S&Mers actually enjoy giving or receiving pain.
What they like is where pain gets them."
The Practicalities of S&M Intimacy
I believe that S&Mers should try very hard to put boundaries around our S&M
interactions; we should work to communicate carefully, and compartmentalize what we
do. Consent, and well-communicated boundaries, are the factors that separate S&M from
abuse. I talked about those boundaries in "Thinking More Clearly About BDSM versus
Abuse," and I also talked about them in "What Happens After an S&M Encounter 'Gone
Wrong.'" I've written about S&M communication tactics that enable communication and
boundary-setting, from safewords to checklists to keeping simultaneous journals.
Aftercare is part of that boundary-setting process, but a lot of the time, people have a hard
time thinking or speaking clearly right after S&M. Some people become incredibly nonverbal,
or vague and confused, or giggly, or all of the above. For this reason, some people
include later follow-ups (like a next-day phone call) under the umbrella of "aftercare" --
the goal is to allow the post-S&M time to be calming and un-challenging, and then talk
things through when everyone's head is clearer. Processing things thoroughly after an
S&M encounter is really important, especially if the people involved are planning to do it
again. It's important for two reasons: it helps the people involved get a better sense of
what they want and don't want; and it helps them learn more about how to communicate
with their partners.
Recently, I was privileged to give a partner his first heavy S&M experience. Afterwards,
when he was coming out of it, he said to me: "No one has ever touched me so deeply, so
fast before." I lay with him, listening. I'm pretty sure I did a good job helping him pick up
the pieces, but when I try to figure out what I did, I have trouble describing it.
So I wouldn't know how to give a step-by-step "how to" for aftercare, but I can offer
some thoughts. For one thing, the person who was dominant during the encounter is
usually the person who runs the aftercare, too. When I'm in the dominant position, the
message I try to get across during aftercare is along these lines: "I'm here, I'm listening, I
care about you, you're safe with me, and you can take all the time you need."
In the submissive position, I'm often too busy processing to think carefully about what
message I'm getting across to my partner. But sometimes I do get the sense that he's
confused or anxious or needs some feedback, at which point I try to get across a message
along these lines: "I care about you and I'm so grateful to you for taking on that power
just now. If you need to talk, we will do that when I'm more alert. But for now, let's
please just be here together and establish our closeness."
And when I'm switching -- or when the power dynamic is otherwise unclear -- well. I
guess I try to get across a combination of those messages.
The Boundaries of S&M Intimacy
I used to be more willing to do S&M "on the first date," when I barely knew my partner.
That's changed for two reasons. Firstly, I've become much warier of doing S&M without
a strong foundation to the relationship. I've been lucky, because my partners have treated
me so well, even the casual ones. (As more stories of S&M and abuse become public, I
realize more and more how lucky I've been.) But I don't ever want to be in a position
where I do intense S&M and I can't rely on my partner afterwards; and the best way to
build a reliable foundation is to spend lots of time together before we get into anything
deep.
Secondly, I've become more aware of how quickly S&M can affect me. It's entirely
possible to do excellent, intense S&M with someone I can't trust. And if that happens,
then boom: I'll be intensely bonded to him, yet unable to trust him. It's not a good place to
be. There are some kinds of S&M that feel light or even impersonal to me, but when I do
things that feel intense... the bond forms so fast, and it's so incredibly strong. I swear it's a
chemical thing. My body will crave him beyond words, even if my brain knows he's a
terrible idea.
I once heard about a woman who won't allow herself to have orgasms during casual sex,
because she knows the orgasm itself will bond her to her partner. I don't experience
orgasms that way. But when a partner really puts me under with S&M, pulls me in deep,
and then he gives me aftercare while I surface? That's where I fall in love.
I've heard of polyamorous S&M relationships in which the primary relationship disallows
S&M with non-primary partners. I can certainly understand wanting to reserve that for
the primary relationship. I've also heard of polyamorous S&M relationships in which the
partners can do S&M with outside partners... but won't allow aftercare with outside
partners. I can understand that even better.
* * *
Brainwashing: Intimacy Within Abuse
In late 2010, I cross-posted an article about an intense S&M experience to the blog
Feministe. In the article, I included these words:
There it was. I felt the tears building, gasps torn from my throat, I felt myself starting to
fall apart and reform: around him, around his guidance and force and demands. Almost
unable to think. Until finally he relented and said my name, and said softly, "Come
back," and ran his hand reassuringly down my hair.
There it was: the reason I want it so much.
In response, a commenter named FormerWildChild wrote:
For some of us, the idea of being hit by another person makes us want to jump up and
run out of our skin. It seriously wigs us out. It is not a moral judgment; is a true phobia
for another person. It reminds me of when we were at the un-civilized end of Grand
Canyon with our children. All that stood between my kids and certain death was inches
of loosely packed sand. When we were done sightseeing, I discreetly walked behind the
van and threw up until I could breathe again.
I had that same terrified feeling when I read about your account of your last session. I
wanted to go wrap a blanket around you, hold you in my arms and feed you tea and
cookies until I can finally breathe again.
And my fear is not because I fail to really "get" what you experience. It comes from an
absolute recognition of what you describe.
I have experienced what you described at the end of your BDSM session, the breaking
and reforming of yourself around someone. I have felt exactly what you are talking
about, that feeling of finally letting go, of surrendering, and the other person sensing that
you are finally there, and then stopping. I have felt the sweetness of those moments of
post-thrashing closeness when tenderness seems to hover in the room. I know the feeling
of intense closeness which can follow the next day. The air is filled with a cathartic
cleanness, the experience of inflicting pain and of receiving pain has cleared the air
better than any southern thunderstorm. I can even imagine coming to crave that feeling
in the way that you describe.
But I experienced all of those feelings as a child. What you described is precisely what it
feels like when an abuser truly lets loose and keeps going until "it" breaks, until there is
that moment of catharsis for both the beaten and the person doing the beating. In my
experience, those relationships are like playing along the end of the Grand Canyon:
people fall in, and they die.
Now, I am willing to believe two things: one, it is possible that my mother and other
abusers are actually engaged in a form of BDSM rape when they beat the people that
they love. Just as sex is the overpowering and taking of something that should be
beautiful and intimate, so beating a loved one to catharsis might just be the same sort of
thing. Perhaps that is something that abuse experts should look at.
I am also willing to believe that you have an invisible fence as you play along the edge of
your own personal Grand Canyon. I am willing to believe that you know how to be there
without falling into the abyss. But if that is the case -- that it is safe for you out there, and
that I simply need to accept that. Then I will ask you to accept the fact that I will need to
go behind the van and toss my lunch.
At first I was frustrated by that comment, because all I could see was someone saying "I
want to throw up when I read about your sexuality," and I was like: grrr. But now I look
at that comment, and I see such important points, points that are utterly crucial to the
developing language that distinguishes S&M from abuse.
I will say first that I have never personally survived that kind of abuse. But I have
received emails from people asking me to write about this, over and over, and I hope that
I can help those folks by offering my thoughts. I have also spoken to some abuse experts
who tell me that, behind closed doors, they do talk about this: they discuss how the
existence of real desire, real catharsis, and real intimacy within an abusive context can
look terrifyingly similar to descriptions of S&M encounters.
Rape survivors of all genders sometimes experience physical pleasure and even orgasm
while being assaulted. A paper about this was published in the 2004 Journal of Clinical
Forensic Medicine, and there are plenty of first-person accounts around the Internet.
Here's an explicit and tremendously saddening quotation from one of them:
I kept physically fighting him off and telling him that though I respected him as my pastor
and as a father figure I wanted him to stop. He pushed me, tore my clothes and raped me.
... The pain was incredible as they were very rough and forceful. After what seemed like
forever I blacked out. I remember the pastor shaking me hard and slapping me across the
face. He then shoved down my throat ten or so Excedrin (a medicinal mixture of pain
killer and caffeine) so that I would stay awake.
One of the most disturbing things that happened that night is that I had an orgasm.
Despite years of marriage, it was my first orgasm ever. It really confused me. I thought
some part of me must be mentally sick to have experienced the pleasure of an orgasm
during this horrific trauma.
Here's the thing about consent: orgasm is not consent. Physical pleasure is only the
body's reaction to certain types of stimulation. Also: sexual desire is not consent. And
love isn't consent, either. If I feel sexual desire for my partner, and my body feels good
when he touches me, and I love him, yet I make it clear that I don't want to have sex right
now... then he's still violating my consent if he has sex with me. (Obviously, if I want to
say "no" and mean "yes," then it's my responsibility to negotiate that ahead of time and
set a safeword.)
In short: There can be pleasure, desire, and even love existing alongside real abuse.
But that doesn't mean it's not abuse. This is as true with S&M as it is with non-S&M
sex.
I once spoke to a person who referred to himself as an abuser, who told me that he'd read
descriptions of S&M aftercare, and that he saw his own tactics within them. He told me
when he thought about it, he had always considered it to be "brainwashing."
And I can see it. That's the scary part. I really can see it. I can believe that when we have
powerful S&M experiences, we tap into the same parts of our brains that could otherwise
be used for psychological manipulation and destruction. S&M shows us how to create
and utilize enormous mental vulnerability through violence... and vulnerability can
always be abused. In the literature exploring the cycle of abuse, people often write about
the "reconciliation phase," in which the abuser is all sweetness and light to their victim; I
can't help but wonder how much of the "reconciliation phase" could be recognized as
non-consensual aftercare. How much of an abuser's power over their victim might come
from the mental malleability that cautious S&Mers learn to respect?
This does not mean that our bodies are broken. The woman whose words I published at
the top of this article called it "the cruelest of design flaws and the worst people
understand it and the most compassionate people don't." But we don't have to perceive
this as a flaw -- it's not a flaw any more than orgasms are a flaw. Some S&M instructors
compare S&M mental states to "altered states," like being drunk; there's nothing wrong
with being drunk, but people should be careful with alcohol. Our bodies are instruments
with certain powers and vulnerabilities that we must respect.
This power and vulnerability is one of the biggest reasons I do the writing that I do.
Because although they're invisible, I do have a sense of the fences that FormerWildChild
talked about when she commented at Feministe: the fences that keep S&Mers from
falling into the Grand Canyon of abuse. Those invisible fences around the canyon are
constructed from self-awareness, self-esteem, respect, and consent.
Building Fences Around The Canyon
How do we build fences around the canyon? We build them by seeking to understand our
desires, and talk openly with our partners, and respect our partners' limits. So I write
about communication and self-examination and learning to value my boundaries... and I
hope it will help people learn what it means to play at the edge, rather than falling into
the canyon.
This is scary, loaded, complicated territory. I certainly don't have all the answers. But I
have ideas on how we might begin finding answers from here.
Firstly, S&Mers and feminists both need to be aware of this emotional and biological
phenomenon. It can create a sense of overwhelming intimacy with unexpected partners.
And it can be used as a tool by abusers who groom relationships that started consensually
into abusive relationships.
Secondly, we must keep talking about communication and boundary-setting. An
important part of this discussion is openly discussing what happens when wellintentioned
S&Mers screw up, and how we deal with that. Again, I wrote about that in
"What Happens After an S&M Encounter "'Gone Wrong.'" Thomas MacAulay Millar has
a great post that lists the mistakes that can happen within S&M. He mentions, for
example, that sometimes there are genuine physical "technical" errors; sometimes people
also hit "landmines" or unexpected psychological problems (I also covered landmines in
my post). Talking openly about screwups makes it harder for abusers to claim that they
"just screwed up."
Thirdly, within our communities, we need to spread the word -- especially to people who
we believe might be inexperienced or vulnerable or otherwise in a position to have this
used against them.
* * *
After June 16, 2012, this can be found on the Internet at:
http://clarissethorn.com/blog/2012/06/16/sm-aftercare-or-brainwashing
* * *
* * *
* * *
COMMUNICATION:
[theory] Feminist S&M Lessons From the Seduction Community
This was originally split into three parts and published in 2011 at GoodMenProject.com.
Obviously, it covers some territory that I also cover in Confessions of a Pickup Artist
Chaser, but the book is much chattier and has more fun anecdotes. Also, you should
totally buy the book. Okay, I'll stop advertising it now.
* * *
Feminist S&M Lessons From the Seduction Community
There is an enormous subculture devoted to teaching men how to seduce women. Within
the last half-decade or so, these underground "pickup artists" have burst into the popular
consciousness, aided by Neil Strauss's bestselling book The Game and VH1's hit reality
show The Pick-Up Artist.
Pickup artists -- also known as the "seduction community" -- exchange ideas in thousands
of online fora, using extensive in-group jargon. One pickup artist site lists "over 715
terms, and counting." There are pickup artist meetups, clubs, and subculture celebrities
all over the world. There are different ideological approaches and theoretical schools of
seduction. Well-known pickup artist "gurus" can make millions of dollars per year: they
may sell books; they may sell hours of "coaching"; they may organize training
"bootcamps" or conventions with pricy tickets; they may run companies full of
instructors trained in their methods. The community even generates its own well-thoughtout
internal critiques.
I am a sex-positive feminist lecturer and writer. I write primarily about my experiences
with sadomasochism, but I have a general interest in sexuality. I first encountered pickup
artists when smart ones started attending my educational events and commenting on my
blog.
Some aspects of pickup artistry are hugely problematic; many parts of the community
showcase and encourage misogyny. While exploring the PUA jungle, I observed things
that turned my stomach and brought tears to my eyes. On the other hand, I had to admit
that some pickup artist perspectives were very interesting. Some had fascinating insights
about gender theory and social power. I also felt drawn by their exploits. Learning
seduction, and watching hypothetically-dazzling Casanovas run a courtier-like game,
sounded like an extremely fun way to spend my time.
I started my journey by talking to a few pickup artists and reading their fora. By the end, I
had given a lecture at a seduction convention, and I had decided against developing my
own coaching business. Today, I can offer a quick synopsis of my own history, and why I
became so interested in PUAs. I will break down some elementary distinctions among the
men of the seduction community. Finally, I will offer a few PUA-influenced thoughts on
feminist goals.
* * *
I was an awkward little bookworm of a child, but at least I was creative. I liked to draw,
invent games, and run amateur social experiments. When I was in high school, most of
my friends were on the Internet; I did not date a real-life boyfriend until college. I was
inevitably teased by my peers, but even when treated well, I rarely engaged with the
social hierarchies around me. I had difficulty grasping how social mechanics were
"supposed" to work. A lot of things seemed obvious to other people that were not obvious
to me.
For example, in sixth grade, a female friend of mine teased me about flirting with a boy.
"What was I doing?" I asked. "Come on, you were flirting!" she responded. While I
thought I almost understood what she meant, I was unsure -- so I set out to poll everyone
I knew about what constitutes "flirting." Responses were inconsistent. One person said,
very definitely: "Giggling." Others cited examples such as "intense looks" or "making
jokes."
By the end of this experiment, I concluded that no one seemed able to explain "flirting" in
terms of consistent behaviors; there were few commonalities in my final list. From what I
could tell, flirting could only be explained in terms of invisible interpersonal dynamics. I
found this both entertaining and frustrating.
I sometimes wonder what would have become of me if the modern pickup artist
community had existed back then, and I had discovered it. PUAs devote a lot of time to
understanding seduction in terms of observed behaviors. They have terms for social
tactics that run the gamut from creating rapport, to encouraging trust, to building sexual
tension, to shifting social power. But although the purpose of these social tactics is to
manipulate emotion, the tactics are typically described as concretely as possible. Some
PUA coaches provide long memorized "routines," but it is more common to talk about
particular social actions or broader strategies.
One famous PUA tactic is called the "neg." "Neg" stands for "negative hit," and one site
defines a neg as "a remark, sometimes humorous, used to point out a woman's flaws."
Like many PUA terms, the deeper meanings and usage vary from PUA to PUA -- but
there is an especially dramatic range of meanings with "neg."
Some PUAs see negs as friendly teasing: a way for the PUA to show that he is paying
attention to the girl, without appearing needy or overeager. I can offer a cute example of
this approach from my own life. I was sitting in a cafe with a former PUA, and he gazed
deep into my eyes.
"Wait a minute," he said slowly. "Are your glasses held together by epoxy? It looks like
you had to repair them at the corners."
"Yeah," I admitted.
He grinned. "Everything about you just screams 'starving artist,' doesn't it."
This made me laugh for quite a while. I think it worked because he understood that I have
chosen (for now) to be a broke writer -- but he also recognized the tension I feel about
that choice. So this gentleman was demonstrating that he correctly discerned my
priorities; that he is not bothered by a choice that makes me feel self-conscious; and that
he is confident enough to tease me.
Also, at a moment when I thought he might compliment my eyes, the former PUA shook
up my expectations by breaking the romantic pattern. Often, effective flirting involves
offering the right mixture of confidence plus charming novelty plus paying attention.
Some PUAs see negs more strategically, as a way of passing a woman's "tests" or
breaching her indifference. They argue that this is necessary for women who are very
high-status, very beautiful, etc. They argue that some women develop a kind of immunity
to compliments, and that some women actively prefer feisty, faux-adversarial flirting.
Most PUAs only advocate using negs on women who meet a certain "minimum" level of
attractiveness, or who seem particularly feisty. Neil Strauss, a famous PUA and author of
the bestseller The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists, once wrote
that:
When you give a woman who's often hit on a generic compliment, she will usually either
ignore the remark or assume you're saying it because you want to sleep with her.
When you tease her and show her that you're unaffected by her beauty and demonstrate
that you're out of her league -- and THEN let her work to win you over and ultimately
REWARD her with your approval, she will leave that night feeling good about herself.
Like something special happened and she connected with somebody who appreciates her
for who she REALLY is.
In short, a neg will buy you the credibility you need to sincerely compliment her later.
That said, I don't necessarily advocate negs; they are in many ways a temporary patch to
stick onto your personality while you learn to possess real confidence and strength of
character.
Although this is a manipulative approach, it is not inevitably harmful. It also is not
limited to the sphere of sexual relationships; humans often pretend not to care what other
people think, and consistently attempt to be taken seriously by others. Additionally, for
many people, flirting involves a certain amount of strategic ambiguity and plausible
deniability, and negs are a useful tactic for that kind of game. Not everyone likes playing
such tacit and confusing games, but many people do.
However, this is all cute and mild compared to how some PUAs talk about negs: some
cite the neg specifically as a tactic to make the girl feel bad.
A well-known PUA who goes by the name of Tyler Durden once wrote that: "You use
self-esteem negs to lower the target's self-esteem, and crave your attention to re-validate
herself." Similarly, an especially pitiless PUA blogger who is sometimes described as
"the Darth Vader of PUAs" writes that:
The best negs are those which are conceivably meant as compliments, but which linger in
her psyche for hours afterward, undermining her self-conception and encouraging her to
qualify herself to you [i.e. encouraging her to explain why she's worth your time].... [A
neg] infiltrates a girl's subconscious so that she spends more mental energy analyzing
her worth than she does analyzing yours.
One commenter adds to the above blogger's words that: "So long as you have a woman
auditioning for you, power remains where it belongs -- squarely in your pocket."
In other words, a person who feels anxious and unworthy will be easier to control. These
cruel PUAs have learned the same lesson as thousands of people in abusive relationships.
Here is an especially instructive quotation from the comments on "Darth Vader's" blog:
"[Women] really are insipid, vapid airheads. If it wasn't for the pussy, there would be a
bounty on them." That statement is interesting not just because of its hatred but because
of its fear. After all, no one puts a bounty on targets that are not dangerous. The most
misogynist corners of the PUA subculture not only discuss ways to aggressively
manipulate women; they also paint women as selfish, deceitful and hazardous.
The various approaches to negging highlight both the different shadings of opinion across
the subculture, and a particularly important distinction among PUAs themselves. Some of
these men genuinely do enter pickup artistry out of a desire to connect to women. As one
PUA told me, "When I first looked at PUA stuff, I was like, 'This is so sleazy and gross.'
But I'd never had a girlfriend, and I kept telling myself, 'Dude, you are lonely and
miserable and you don't want to die alone.'" On the other hand, many PUAs become
PUAs because they want unilateral power and control over women -- and many PUAs
attempt to justify this through narratives and jokes that encourage fear and anger against
women.
* * *
Aside from the "connection" vs. "control" distinction, there is also a distinction between
PUAs who are seeking what is essentially self-help, and those who aren't.
The PUA concept that best illustrates this is "inner game." Inner game is, essentially,
genuine confidence and sense of purpose. It contrasts with "outer game" -- i.e., the things
a PUA says and does to attract women. A "neg" would count as "outer game," for
example.
Most successful PUAs reach a point where they decide that, in the words of one coach:
emotionless "sport-fucking kinda sucks." (Some PUAs start at this point, but that is a bit
unusual.) They conclude that it's time to pull back from the game; to seek longer-term or
more emotionally connected sex; to examine their priorities; and to discover interests
aside from picking up new girls. Finding themselves in this way can be described as
"inner game." The men who discuss inner game often talk about developing their own
businesses, exercising regularly, keeping a healthier diet, accepting their own
vulnerabilities, pursuing hobbies, and improving their connections with people of all
genders.
Most PUAs also realize that women respond well to genuine confidence and sense of
purpose. This could be seen as ironic: notwithstanding the fact that "inner game"
emphasizes self-improvement, the concept is still centered on seducing women.
However, despite the fact that "inner game" is centered on gaming ladies, its ultimate
result is usually to encourage PUAs to think about what they really want from life. PUA
coach Mark Manson once wrote that, "You don't end up in the Pick Up Artist community
unless you are incredibly unhappy or unsatisfied about something. It may be conscious, it
may be unconscious. It may be short-term, or it may be deep-seated and long-term." He
later wrote to me by email that: "This is a giant self-help community in disguise." I also
once interviewed Neil Strauss himself, who said he hoped that his famous book The
Game could become "the beginning of a men's self-help movement -- because self-help
isn't emasculating anymore if you're doing it to get laid."
Interestingly, Neil Strauss also told me that he agreed with feminism in many ways, and
said things like: "We still are a patriarchal society." Many feminists felt that my interview
with him was full of problematic statements, and his words were picked apart by feminist
readers. I do not disagree with many feminist critiques of what Strauss said -- but
considering where Strauss was coming from, his words were extraordinarily supportive
of feminism. One feminist commented to me that, "I don't understand why you're not
more critical of this guy." In response, it is worth noting how an anti-feminist writer
responded to Strauss's words:
Whether Strauss is an ignorant fool or an opportunist liar who wants to appease
feminists in order to avoid negative feedback is anyone's guess, but if his words are
anything to go by, we can safely assume that the best-known public advocates of Game
are perfectly OK with parroting feminist dogma.
For the few, mild pro-feminist statements Strauss made, some PUAs deride him as either
an "ignorant fool or an opportunist liar." (Others hurled particularly misogynist insults
such as "mangina.") This is both a demonstration of how vitriolic PUA anti-feminist
sentiment can become, and an example of the social shaming that sometimes leads men
in the PUA community to avoid associating themselves with anything resembling
feminist thought or woman-friendly perspectives.
Clearly, many men view pickup artistry as a kind of therapy. The community can be a
support group for self-confidence and self-improvement. Unfortunately, many corners of
the seduction community are also a support group for virulent misogyny. Some feminists
argue that any man who seeks self-help through the seduction community is effectively
embracing misogyny, because so much of the community is misogynist. However, some
PUA students could be interpreted as seeking self-help from the only avenue they see as
acceptable, if they are coming from a culture that usually defines self-help as unmasculine
or anti-masculine. Again, note that Neil Strauss said: "self-help isn't
emasculating anymore if you're doing it to get laid."
The most confusing thing about misogyny among PUAs is that although some moremisogynist
PUAs separate themselves consciously from non-misogynist PUAs, and vice
versa, the groups still overlap a great deal. Even PUA-influenced men who prioritize nonmisogyny,
and are willing to talk to a feminist writer like me, often seem to soak up
misogynist ideas from the rest of the subculture. At one point, I talked to one PUA I
thought was committed to being non-sexist... until he expounded quite seriously upon
how his favorite PUA blogger thinks the USA would be better off if women did not vote.
One goal of my book, Confessions of a Pickup Artist Chaser, is to draw clearer lines: to
give examples of PUAs and PUA approaches that seem more abusive or inclined towards
harm, as opposed to approaches that seem mostly playful, harmless or even positive.
* * *
Although I want to cry when I see statements like, "If it wasn't for the pussy, there would
be a bounty on women," I try not to let it distract me from some insights emerging from
the seduction community. By focusing empirically and pragmatically on the process of
sexual escalation, PUAs are approaching gender norms in a way that many people --
including feminists -- usually do not. Also, I can relate to some PUAs because some
PUAs have the same history of social anxiety that I do.
I have another personal reason for feeling uncomfortable painting PUAs as "the enemy."
When feminists criticize how PUAs approach sexuality, I have mixed feelings, because I
myself am known for sexual desires that are unpopular with some feminists. As I grew
out of being an awkward little bookworm nerd, as I began dating and exploring my
sexual needs, I started to understand my sexuality as being heavily involved with BDSM.
Consensual BDSM is a heavily stigmatized type of sexuality, although some sexologists
have argued that it might be viewed as a sexual orientation. Many feminists marginalize
BDSM just as much as the rest of society does -- or more. Famous German feminist Alice
Schwarzer once said: "Female masochism is collaboration," and a recent history of Ms.
Magazine quotes a co-founding editor who recalls that:
I threatened to leave over a manuscript by a woman who was a former editor of ours
who was writing about why she was a masochist and trying to make it an okay choice. I
would rather leave than work for a magazine that published that. And we didn't publish
it.
As a result, notwithstanding my considerable feminist writing and activism, I live in fear
of my "feminist card" being revoked because of my BDSM identity.
Yet, simultaneously, my practice of BDSM has greatly informed my feminist
understanding. Rape and consent are both very important feminist issues, and much of
the BDSM community obsessively examines sexual consent. The dominant BDSM
community "mantra" is "SSC: Safe, Sane, and Consensual." Some people debate whether
another "mantra" would be better, but I have never heard of someone removing the
"consensual" part. Indeed, the ways many BDSMers think of sexual consent overlap
dramatically with the ways that many feminists think of it.
Safewords are a famous and high-profile example of careful BDSM communication
tactics. They are specific code words that any participant can use to stop the sexual action
at any time. Safewords are important in a context where one partner might want to
scream "No!" or "Please don't!" or "Mercy!" with no intention of actually stopping the
action.
Safewords serve another, stealthier, but equally important function: they bring home the
idea that consent is a continuously changing process. Consent is part of the ongoing
sexual negotiation that takes place between two people. Here, BDSM consent ideas
overlap heavily with feminist consent ideas. For example, one article by high-profile
feminist Jaclyn Friedman pushes back against dominant conceptions of consent by stating
that "consent is not a lightswitch." As Friedman writes:
Sexual consent isn't like a lightswitch, which can be either "on," or "off." It's not like
there's this one thing called "sex" you can consent to anyhow. "Sex" is an evolving series
of actions and interactions. You have to have the enthusiastic consent of your partner for
all of them. And even if you have your partner's consent for a particular activity, you
have to be prepared for it to change.
Safewords are, effectively, a constant reminder that "you have to be prepared for
[consent] to change."
BDSMers and feminists tend to teach explicit, straightforward verbal sexual
communication -- in contrast to the seduction community, which typically teaches nonverbal
or playfully tacit sexual communication. For example, the seduction community
has an extensive array of discussions about how to initiate flirtatious touching, which
PUAs refer to as "kino." The seduction community also places a strong emphasis on
developing skill at reading a social situation without asking exactly what is going on; if a
PUA is good at understanding implicit social signals, he is described as "calibrated."
For BDSMers and feminists, the sexual consent territory continues to overlap after
safewords. Huge factions, if not majorities, within both groups have concluded that the
best way to encourage consent is not merely to encourage people to understand that they
can withdraw consent at any point -- but to encourage open communication and selfknowledge
about sex.
Among feminists, an example of this approach is Jaclyn Friedman's brand-new book
What You Really, Really Want: The Smart Girl's Shame-Free Guide to Sex and Safety.
Salon's Tracy Clark-Flory notes in an interview with Friedman that:
The book is filled with writing exercises that prompt readers to reflect on everything from
body image to sexual assault. It's essentially a guide to writing one's own personal sexual
manifesto.
Among BDSMers, an example of this approach is the multi-page checklists that some
BDSMers use. (I already wrote about this in my piece "Sex Communication Tactic
Derived From S&M: Checklists," reprinted earlier in this book; just in case you haven't
read it, I'll briefly describe them.) Checklists are essentially lists of every conceivable
BDSM-related act; each act on the checklist looks something like this:
FLOGGING -- GIVING __________________ O O O O O
FLOGGING -- RECEIVING ______________ O O O O O
Each partner rates each entry by filling out 1-5 bubbles, with 1 darkened bubble meaning
"Not interested" and 5 bubbles meaning "I crave this!" This type of explicit
communication is both an excellent way to help partners understand each other's desires
-- and to help partners understand each other's boundaries. In a way, this sort of thing
could be seen as "Master Class" consent communication.
This was the context whence I emerged when I started investigating pickup artistry. I am
a feminist, but I'm a flavor of feminist with a troubled history within the movement. I am
an advocate for explicit communication, but I believe that no aspect of consent should be
ignored, and I am concerned that many feminists and BDSMers give a certain
unwarranted privilege to explicit verbal communication over implicit or non-verbal
communication.
People seem likely to develop a preference for explicit communication if it seems more
necessary. For instance, many BDSMers develop a preference for explicit communication
because our desires are unusual and precise, and complicated words will help us get what
we want. Feminists develop the same preferences because explicit communication is the
clearest way to ensure sexual consent. Accordingly, some people attempt to promote
explicit sexual communication by saying: We should make it necessary.
Here's an example exchange from the comments on a thoughtful feminist BDSM blog. A
male commenter asks:
I once had an argument with a very good female friend of mine about kissing. She was
perturbed about a date who asked her if he could proceed to kiss her. She said the man
should just know. It should be instinctual and u lose the moment as soon as u ask. I said
that was bs, the first move is one of the most nerve wracking things, the very fact that he
asked shows his politeness and tact and frankly a lack of presumptuousness.... What do
you think? What's the line between politeness and passivity?
The feminist blogger, an intelligent and awesome lady who goes by the name Holly
Pervocracy, responds that:
I don't say this very often, but "you lose the moment as soon as you ask" girls really are
ruining it for the rest of us.
As far as I'm concerned, they can go without ever being kissed until they wise up.
However, I think (or would like to think? augh) that most girls are not like that, and that
you should not plan for girls to be like that. I'd definitely rather offend someone by
asking than offend them by not asking.
Holly implies that people who don't like explicit communication should effectively be
banned from kissing: she says, "they can go without ever being kissed until they wise
up." I have a certain cantankerous sympathy for this perspective, and I have said similar
things myself in the past. But my research into pickup artists made me wonder about
whether this perspective is tenable, given a world in which most people seem to enjoy
and engage in a great deal of tacit communication.
Speaking only for myself, I must admit that I like it when a man can read my unspoken
signals well enough that he can tell when to kiss me without asking aloud. Sometimes it
can be nice when a guy asks. But if he can read my tacit communication about kissing,
that is a signal that he can read a lot of my other tacit communication as well.
Furthermore, if many people really enjoy unspoken social games and strategic
uncertainty, then "the game" will never go away. Evidence that people enjoy those things
does not only include the pickup artist subculture -- romantic comedies and romance
novels consistently find a market, after all.
Additionally, part of improving sexual communication means learning more about
unspoken communication -- not just spoken communication. The pioneering social
economist Peter F. Drucker once said, "The most important thing in communication is to
hear what isn't being said." This maxim is no less true when it comes to sex than it is in
any other area of human endeavor. PUAs have spent years gathering information on tacit
sexual communication, so perhaps one feminist goal should be to try and understand what
they've learned, such as the characteristics of excellent social "calibration."
Some feminists and BDSMers exist who already think a lot about teaching implicit or
unspoken communication. On the feminist side, one webpage about sexual violence
features an image of a woman saying: "I stopped kissing you back. I pushed your hand
away. I said I wanted to leave. It all meant 'NO'." On the BDSM side, there is often an
expectation that BDSM partners will discuss their experience and reactions once they are
done doing BDSM with each other, so as to learn more about how to read each other's
tacit signals. However, I have never encountered a BDSM seminar on the topic of nonverbal
communication, though I've attended several on verbal communication.
My perspective on non-verbal communication is not without precedent among feminist
BDSMers, though my willingness to deal extensively with PUAs might be. Still, I believe
that non-verbal communication is not taught well, and that feminists and BDSMers in
particular do not spend enough time discussing its role in sexual interactions. Given that
both communities emphasize that consent and communication are crucially intertwined,
perhaps both communities might draw insight from some PUA conceptions of "kino,"
"calibration" and other ways of examining implicit communication.
I once started a thread about pickup artists on a major feminist blog, to which one
feminist responded: "I'm getting so sick of these PUA threads.... So I'll just come out and
say it: PUAs rape women through coercion and manipulation. Full stop."
There are a lot of things about pickup artistry that I really do not like. There were points
during my PUA adventures when I learned about incidents and strategies that blatantly
sound like rape. This is a huge can of worms, and I discussed it at great length in my
book. For now I will only note that there is an entire PUA area of inquiry called "Last
Minute Resistance" (or "LMR"): that is, what happens when a woman resists having sex.
"Last Minute Resistance tactics" ("LMR tactics") are designed to convince a woman who
has expressed hesitance, distaste or discomfort to have sex anyway.
"The first two 'no's don't mean much, and should be expected," advises one PUA while
outlining LMR tactics. This is exactly the kind of thing that gives the community a bad
name. In fairness, some PUAs talk about trying to understand why a girl is
uncomfortable, and then addressing the root cause of her discomfort. For example, a PUA
might advise asking whether she is menstruating, and then reassuring her that he won't be
grossed out by having sex if she is. Some PUAs try to claim that most LMR tactics are
harmless and communicative, but this is a difficult claim to defend. I have always been
more impressed by the few PUAs who simply advocate respecting Last Minute
Resistance, such as David Shade:
Do not push against last minute resistance. You will be like all the other guys who
objectify women and do not respect her as a real person. And it will reek of desperation.
... In fact, move things along just slightly slower than she'd like it. Make her wait. It
builds that sexual tension, and it makes her think. When she is away from you, she is
going to think about it a lot.
Of course, while Shade is advising his clients to respect boundaries, he's advising them to
respect boundaries as a tactic for seducing the woman eventually. Another example of
this approach comes from Mark Manson, who appears more interested in respecting
women for the sake of respecting women, but whose main thrust is still seduction advice:
In [an LMR situation], there's always a fork in the road: you can do the typical freezeout/high-pressure
PUA bullshit to try to manipulate her or annoy her into giving up the
resistance. Or you can be honest about the situation and resign yourself to accepting the
fact that you may not have sex tonight.
Guys, listen. Always, always, always go with the second option. It may sound counterintuitive,
but you have to go with the second option. Not only because it's the right thing
to do. Not only because it's what any respectful human being should do. But because if
you make it clear that there is absolutely no pressure for her to sleep with you, if you
show her that you can be trusted and that you're OK with whatever she decides (and by
the way, you do need to be OK with whatever she decides), then she's going to become
ten times more comfortable with you, and therefore is actually more likely to WANT to
have sex with you.
PUA frameworks and tactics are often consent-friendly. Many "LMR tactics" encourage
pushiness or even outright non-consensual behavior, such as ignoring the woman when
she says, "No." Yet things I discussed in previous sections of this article – such as "negs,"
and body-language "kino" tactics -- are clearly neutral: their usage is shaped mostly by
the goals of individual PUAs and the social context in which they occur. Discussions of
social "calibration" -- increasing one's capacity to read social situations -- as well as
"inner game" and being attractive by improving oneself will generally be a positive good.
Indeed, it could be argued that no PUA tactics are inherently abusive, but some are more
obviously susceptible to being used badly... the same way a sword is more obviously
susceptible to evil usage than a table.
Previous feminist writers have usually preferred to complain about the seduction
community's misogyny rather than examining the community deeply. I have been more
interested to see whether I could understand and make use of the positive PUA theories.
Understanding the "Darth Vader" types might be useful, too. There is a percentage of
PUAs who are non-consensually hurting women, and if we learn how those men do it, we
might also figure out how to disarm them.
I must acknowledge that I eventually felt that the community was damaging, poisonous,
and unhealthy for me -- to the extent that I needed to get out and detox. (PUA detox is a
recognized phenomenon even among some PUAs... and former PUAs.) However, there
are truths within it that are both intriguing and important.
I have never quite erased my fear of having my "feminist card" revoked, although it is not
clear how "feminists" -- a fractious group if ever there was one -- could withdraw my
presence in the movement. There is no Central Standards Bureau for feminists. Perhaps
inevitably, the feminist reaction to Confessions of a Pickup Artist Chaser was quite
mixed... although some other feminists appear to agree that there are important and
interesting things to learn from PUAs about gender, culture, and feminist consent models.
An overall lesson here might be that thinkers with a lot in common are increasingly
isolated from each other through the accelerating Balkanization of detailed, insular,
interest-based subcultures. Like the drive towards interdisciplinary research in academia,
perhaps a kind of interdisciplinary subcultural approach is being developed by those of us
more interested in building bridges than burning them.
* * *
This can be found on the Internet at:
http://clarissethorn.com/blog/2012/02/27/feminist-sm-lessons-from-the-seductioncommunity/
* * *
* * *
* * *
S&M:
[storytime] The Strange Binary of Dominance and Submission
I wrote this in early 2012, and it was originally published at RoleReboot.org. If I had to
summarize my relationship with this gentleman today, then ironically enough, I'd say that
"it got complicated and I'm pretty sure it's over now." I still like this piece, though.
* * *
The Strange Binary of Dominance and Submission
It's been a while since I felt simultaneously very into someone, and very sure about him.
It's a strange feeling. I've been playing with theories about how "flirtation is basically an
exercise in strategic ambiguity" and "insecurity is an integral part of romantic
intoxication" and "uncertainty is an emotional amplifier," and I do think that those ideas
are true in many ways. But I got so wrapped up in theory that I forgot how it feels to be
way into someone... and only a little bit scared.
* * *
I met Mica at a Saturday night party. When I left the next morning, he said he wanted to
see me again as soon as possible. "Monday?" he asked. "Tuesday?"
"Monday," I said. "Tomorrow."
He's a smart, creative thinker. There are layers to him, and he practically shines: so why
not name him for the mineral Mica? I would love talking to him for those reasons alone.
But there's also a kind of certainty to him; a calm presence; an extraordinary quality of
attention. Once he's focused on a partner, there's a rhythm behind everything he does.
He's so precise that when I'm kissing him, I feel like an awkward puppy.
I observed this very quickly, and something else: that the quality of his attention -- often
overtook him. Controlled him. In a sexual interaction, it's difficult to distract him from
catering to me. And since he's excellent at reading my desires, I usually don't want to
distract him.
It made me think of what I was like, years ago, before I understood my submissive
tendencies. Mica hadn't done much explicit S&M before, and when he'd done it, he was
dominant. I didn't want to project too much, or make any assumptions about him... but I
couldn't help noticing.
The second night I was with him, I asked him to inflict light pain on me. Very light. I
didn't want to go further with him, yet. But his instincts for delivering pain and watching
my reactions were, as I suspected, beautifully calibrated.
The third night I was with him, he touched my face and kissed me. I felt my eyelashes
flutter and my body melt, and he smiled. Then he said, "I'm feeling really gentle tonight. I
don't know how much I'm up for."
He doesn't want S&M right now, I thought. Sometimes guys date me and get anxious that
I'll be disappointed when they don't want to do S&M. This is understandable, given that
I'm an S&M writer. But I hate that, because the last thing I want is for one of my partners
to feel obligated... and besides, even I don't want all-S&M-all-the-time. I smiled directly
into Mica's eyes and told him I was fine with it.
In bed, I watched him. Watched his extraordinary attentiveness. Eventually we got to a
point where I was leaning over him, kissing him. I watched him give up his body to the
kiss. He doesn't want S&M right now, I thought... except that his main experience with
S&M, so far, is being in charge.
"Do you trust me?" I asked him.
"Yes," he said. "Absolutely."
I clenched my nails into Mica's side, and his back arched. It was the clearest invitation I'd
seen from him and, I suspected, the clearest invitation he knew how to give. If he even
knew that he was giving it. It can take a lot of time and experience for a submissive to
learn what they want well enough to give good feedback for it. It's one of those
submissive skills that people don't think about enough, because for some reason we're
always too busy teaching dominant skills.
I kissed Mica again, and tore into his back.
He was ready for it. His breathing fast became irregular; he gasped; he shook in my
hands. After a while, I pulled back and simply observed the intensity flooding through
him. His body undulated like a wave.
"I knew you were dangerous," he breathed. "In exactly the way that I want."
"Dangerous," I repeated. I hesitated. "What do you mean?" His eyelashes flickered, and I
saw that he was too far under to answer me. He probably barely knew what he was
saying. (In S&M, we call this state of mind subspace.)
I pushed him a little farther. I only used my nails, but you can do a lot with your nails. I
said his name, over and over. He struggled, he fought his own body. I observed the
struggle and saw myself in it. "I know," I told him.
Eventually Mica said, quite seriously, that he wanted to stop. I was certain that he could
take more. A lot more. I might have been able to convince him to continue, and had him
thank me for it later. But he needs to know that I'll respect him when he says to stop.
Also, in a somewhat self-interested way, I don't want to set a precedent where his
boundaries are entirely nonverbal; where his limits depend on my capacity to see through
him. Maybe someday, when we know each other really well. Right now, it would make it
too easy to seriously harm him... and for him to hate me afterwards.
So I stopped.
"No one has ever touched me so deeply, so fast before," Mica said, later. And, later later:
"This changes everything." I lay still, kept my arms around him, listening. "That was
total catharsis," he said. "I mean --" a note of doubt crept into his voice. "Do you actually
like doing that?"
"Yes," I said. I said it fast and hard, because he needs to believe it. I understood why he
was asking: I've been there. When I was first getting into S&M, the first time I felt that
way, I had a hard time believing that my partner actually liked doing that for me. It felt so
incredible. It felt like I couldn't possibly be giving back as much as I received.
Sometimes, I still feel that insecurity.
"I'm glad you like it," Mica said. I felt his body relax next to mine. "Because I'm going to
want that again."
"I know," I said softly.
I tried not to be afraid. Not only because I like him so much, and it's easy to be afraid.
But because someone like Mica, who wants so much to give, can be seriously damaged
by a partner who isn't careful to offer him space to be exactly who he is.
And, most of all, because S&M is a complex and fickle mistress. Because I knew that if
Mica expected me to be able to do that regularly, he was bound to be disappointed. His
tendencies are there, and I can learn them, but this one "total catharsis" depended on a
confluence of factors: there had been something close to his surface, something he'd
practically begged me to pull out, and it had been his first time.
Plus, S&M also depends on self-maintenance and reasonable expectations and respecting
our own failures. An S&M relationship will be much less stable if the people involved
can't accept imperfection.
I was scared, scared, scared that Mica believed me to be more amazing than I could ever
possibly be.
* * *
The next day, Mica was thrilled by his scratches, and showed them off to me. I was
pleased by how he eroticized the marks -- I do that, too -- but I also felt a moment of
piercing guilt. "I'm sorry," I said. "I should have been more careful, before leaving marks
like that. I should have asked."
Mica met my eyes directly, insistently. "No," he said. "Don't be sorry. Last night was
amazing. You knew exactly where I needed to go."
I pushed back my fear -- he expects too much of me -- and answered quietly. I ended by
telling him, "S&M can't be that, all the time." He nodded. I hoped he was listening.
Fortunately, he was. The next time we did it, Mica was slightly disappointed that it wasn't
mind-blowing -- as I knew he would be. But he dealt with it. He articulated the
disappointment to me, and he remembered that I'd warned him, and he said that he was
prepared to take things as they came. And then, lying on his side next to me, watching
me, he asked: "Do you want pain?"
I felt my eyes widen. I felt a spike of fear. I was already so into him. I knew that if I
allowed him to get me to subspace, there'd be no going back.
"Yes," I said.
And again, that attention. In a way, sometimes, Mica's attentiveness can be strangely
inconvenient. He's almost over-attuned to my desires. Even when I tell him to close his
eyes, he can't lose himself that way; he can't make himself keep them closed. The quality
of his attention is, however, quite remarkable when he hurts me.
"This is where you could take me apart," I said afterwards, as I surfaced out of that
terrible vulnerability.
Mica looked at me, rested his head on me. "I just want to take care of you," he said.
* * *
When I was younger, it took me a while to get around to taking the dominant role. And
there's still something I can reach when I'm being submissive and masochistic that I've
never reached when I'm dominant. Still, I think of myself as a confirmed switch now:
someone who can take either the submissive or dominant role. Yet it's such a strange
binary, isn't it? If he rips me apart and then says, "I just want to take care of you," then
which of us is in charge?
Mica told me recently that, "When you're hurting me, my favorite thing you say is 'I
know.' Because you do know. You know exactly what it's like."
By now I'm barely scared. It hasn't been that long, and I'm trying to allow for New
Relationship Energy. I know this could still go up in smoke. But we've talked about
expectations, and we've talked through what we're both looking for, and we're both
thinking of each other in a long-term way.
If I had to point to events that "proved" Mica has serious potential, two things would top
the list. First, in the aftermath of his first incredible S&M experience, when he dealt with
the disappointment of realizing that S&M can't always be that -- dealt with it quietly,
sensibly, without drama, by talking to me. And second, when he said, in defiance of most
aggressive stereotypical dominant roles: "I just want to take care of you."
* * *
This can be found on the Internet at:
http://clarissethorn.com/blog/2012/02/10/storytime-the-strange-binary-of-dominanceand-submission/
* * *
* * *
* * *
FEMINISM:
[storytime] My Mom's Rape Story, and A Confused Relationship With
Feminism
I wrote this in 2012, for Mother's Day. It was originally published at the girl-power site
OffOurChests.com.
* * *
My Mom's Rape Story, and A Confused Relationship With Feminism
My mother is a rape survivor. In 1970, when she was in her twenties, she came home
alone one day with the groceries. As she was opening the door, a man came up behind
her and forced her into the apartment, where he violently assaulted her. For years
afterwards, my mother had Rape Trauma Syndrome -- a type of Post-Traumatic Stress
Disorder that affects rape survivors -- but neither RTS nor PTSD had yet been identified,
and psychiatrists didn't know what to do with her.
Later in the decade, my mother dumped one of her boyfriends. He then came to her
apartment one night, broke in, and raped her. As he got in bed, she was in the middle of a
flashback. She cried and said "No," and he had sex with her anyway. When she tried to
tell him later that what he'd done was unacceptable, he informed her that because she'd
pursued him during their relationship -- because she was the one who originally asked
him out -- a rape case would never stand up in court.
My mother met my dad many years after these incidents. Mom first told me that she'd
been raped in my late teens, because she was considering telling her story to our church
congregation, and she wanted me to know before she did that. The full stories came out
during intermittent conversations in my twenties. I love both my parents with the fire of a
thousand suns, and let me tell you, I've spent an unreasonable amount of time fantasizing
about murdering the men who attacked my mother. I doubt I could find the first guy, but I
could probably find the second, and in my early twenties I often imagined shooting him
in the head. (Don't worry, Mom, I don't think about that anymore.)
Within the last few years, I started thinking about asking Mom's permission to write
about her experiences and my reaction to them. I always shelved the idea because I felt
that it wasn't my story to tell. Last year, the topic came up in conversation, and I finally
asked permission; she said yes immediately. I double-checked her consent twice this
year, and she said yes both times. Still, I was hesitant, and I only got around to it now --
for Mother's Day. I also asked her to review this piece, and to feel free to veto anything
within it.
I am doing my best not to co-opt or appropriate my mother's story. But her story and her
life have shaped mine, intimately -- including my views on gender issues, and my course
as a feminist activist and writer. A few years ago, a widely-read Harper's article by
established feminist Susan Faludi asserted that the relationship between younger
feminists and older feminists is like a battle between girls and our moms. I read the
article with interest, but also with a sense of displacement. As a teenager I fought with
my mom all the time, but she and I rarely argue anymore, and we never argue about
issues of feminism or sexuality at all. If "young" feminism is about rebelling against our
mothers, then I missed that boat completely.
In fairness, my mom's not easy to rebel against. When I was 15, I asked her what she'd do
if I ran off with a Hell's Angel. She laughed. "I'd probably be jealous," she said.
* * *
I started blogging in 2008 because I wanted to write about sexuality, particularly S&M.
However, I identified myself as a feminist from the start, because I wanted to make it
obvious that S&M and feminism are not mutually exclusive. The conflicts of feminism
and S&M have been a major theme throughout the Feminist Sex Wars. I tend to repeat
myself when I write about this, so I'll just mention my favorite quotation on the matter; it
comes from the German radical feminist Alice Schwarzer, who said, "Female masochism
is collaboration!"
When I came out of the closet to my mom, I had been freaking out about my S&M
identity for a while -- but quietly. I told my parents about my sexuality because I wanted
to go into therapy, but I wanted a Kink Aware therapist who wouldn't shame me for my
S&M preferences. The specific therapist I preferred was out-of-network for my health
insurance, which meant I needed help paying for it. My dad was cool with it, but he didn't
say much. My mother paused when I told her... and then she explained that S&M is part
of her sexuality, too.
I was shocked. I was also incredibly relieved. If my brilliant, independent mother was
into S&M, then suddenly I felt much more okay about being into it myself. It turned out
that she had explored S&M late in life -- and she went through the same anxiety about
feminism and S&M that I'd felt. "You're not giving up your liberation," she told me.
Mom also acknowledged the stereotype that S&M arises from abusive experiences. "I
once worried that being raped made me into S&M," she said. "But I remember having
S&M feelings in my childhood and early teens, long before I was raped. I was like this all
along." When she said that, I caught my breath in recognition.
This is another topic I often repeat myself about, but that's because it's important. As it
happens, the biggest and best-designed study on S&M found that there is no correlation
between abusive experiences and being into S&M. There's also plenty of anecdotal
evidence within the S&M community that a lot of S&Mers, though not all, feel our S&M
identities to be innate (sometimes described as an "orientation"). This is not to say that
there's anything wrong with understanding or processing abuse through consensual S&M.
The psychologist Peggy Kleinplatz once published a scholarly article called "Learning
From Extraordinary Lovers: Lessons From The Edge," which discusses how therapists
can help their clients by studying alternative sexualities. Kleinplatz included a case study
of a couple whose S&M experiences helped them process their histories of abuse.
However, abusive experiences should not be seen as the usual "creator" of S&M desires.
(For more on this, check out my article on S&M and the psychiatric establishment.)
The stereotype that S&M "comes from" abuse is another reason I worried about writing