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When it is worth it. [Or, why I wont be *debating* on race play.]
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Jun 3, 2009 1:35 pm
1163 Views
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Since it is the elephant of color in the room, so to speak, here is why you won't see me responding tit-for-tat to those who criticize my motives, on all levels, for sharing my views on a particular approach to one aspect of BDSM play in which I occasionally participate with a handful of friends.
I have no interest in debate.
Not that I don't wish to have opposing views. Far from it.
When I do presentations on playing with race I spend a SUBSTANTIAL amount of time sharing the oppositional viewpoint. To the point where some people take away that they are even more firmly convinced this type of play isn't for them.
So when I further expose myself to ridicule and character slashings, up to and including from people with whom I have sat and broken bread, it isn't a self-aggrandizing attention grab. Believe it or not, a real person with real feelings is writing this stuff and putting it out there. I certainly have no joy added to my life when people trash my character and spirit and talk shit about me.
But the thing is this.
For every person who threatens violence, for every person who has a knee jerk reaction, for every person who paints ME with their PERSONAL revulsion at WIITID, there are many, many more people who hear what I have to say.
Even those who are in disagreement with me.
My personal blog has much of my writings on this subject and I was moved to tears last night when a reader wrote a response to me that, in all sincerity, washed away weeks or pain and shit that I let impact me. Something I said changed her thinking. This isnt something people hear every day. But I hear it more and more when I talk about the hard stuff. What submission is. How play can be risky. What it is to be a minority, what it is to be fat.
I hear it more and more.
When I was in Chicago for Shibaricon, I had several people walk up to me and say similar things. This is a strange and exhilarating and humbling experience.
Something I was moved to share changed someones life. Their way of thinking. How they see themselves. For the better.
Just
wow.
Because of that, I carry on.
I won't back down from who I am. I will not be made to feel like I am "wrong" or that I should hide in the closet for what I do.
Each and every person on this site is here because they identify as kinky.
For kinky people to turn their rancor on others for reasons of difference in life-experience, sexual preferences and desire is sad, but no longer shocks me. These same people wont blink an eye when a local dungeon holds a Slave Auction. These same people use tools of oppression, of torture, with a gleam in their eye but feel free to trash me because they have decided that I have gone to far.
And I know from my own personal experience that some of my more vehement violent critics are those who play in the dark recesses of the mind and heart when it comes to racial politics in and out of the bedroom, but their own issues provoke them to lash out at me, who dare drag this beast to the light.
I've read post after post where people make tangential arguments and specific examples of why I am wrong to do this type of play. SO many of these people were drawing from NON-CONSENSUAL origins of race based violence.
Go ahead and skip over the fact that we in the BDSM community are basing ALL OF OUR INTERSECTIONS ON CONSENT if you wish. But I see the flaw in your criticism.
We are all about consent. Nothing I do can ever "trivialize" the sacrifices and horrors of what my family went through in the past.
Nothing.
So for you to give ME the power to MITIGATE HISTORY is pretty fucking flattering!
But you know what else it is?
Wrong.
Wrong and specious.
I travel all over the U.S. to Leather Conventions. I am invited all over the country to share, lecture, teach and present on MANY topics. And I have done the class on Race play perhaps a dozen times. Every time it is nerve-wracking for me, because people come in with chips on their shoulders.
But they listen, and we talk.
Thing about the online medium, it allows you anonymity and distance to say shit you would probably re-think if you were afforded the opportunity to look me in the eye and actually talk to me about these issues. Therefore, I allow for some of the language to roll off of my back. But not all of it. Because it is important for me to remember how tough this is, and how real. And that is part of the reason I carry on. Because shirking away from it won't make it go away.
To those who have negative things to say about race play: believe me, I know, more than you who have NEVER DONE IT, what it bloody means.
And for those who wave the flag of "More oppressed than thou:" assume nothing. That is the road to ruin when it comes to truly understanding one another. You. Dont. Know. My. Heart. Not all of it.
I respect your humanity and your right to not do what I do. I regret you fail to reciprocate that respect.
So no, I won't debate. The point if a debate is to persuade people to your POV. I have no desire or inclination to do that. My desire and inclination is to suggest ways to open yourself to discussion, dialogue, new and different thoughts.
Because that is my job, actually, when you think about it.
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Pretty cool: I'll be on the cover of a book of photography! :-D
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Jun 1, 2009 1:40 pm
1069 Views
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Oh my god! OK, so a couple of months ago I was chatting on Twitter with some guy I didnt know, who said he was a photographer. I checked out his site and was blown away by his talent, and made some offhand comment about wanting to model for him.
Fast forward to NOW and HOLYMOTHERFUCKING SHIT not only was the shoot a source of some images that, even in my pickiness and crankiness find stellar (you can see some of them on my blog at mollena dot c0m) just rootle around a while!) but I have the Brobdingnagian honor of being on the cover of one of his upcoming books.
I put the photo in my thumbnail.
I am very pleased.
There aren't that many POC doing fetish modeling...even fewer fat people, so thins is a fairly unique image of the Kink community we're putting out here.
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May 18, 2009 11:07 am
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It is not the first time that someone has been whipped into enough of a frenzy to excoriate me publicly. Years ago, when I was just talking about race play among a small group of people, and had only one class under my belt, I took this type of fuckery much more heavily.
Nowadays, I am mostly unruffled by such bullshit.
But yesterday, it went down again, but with an extra twist: someone threatened violence.
Hopefully, this so-called class will fail miserably to attract even enough interest to cover the cost of presenting this abomination as kink.
Forced Black slavery = 60 million known deaths, Ethnic cleansing at the hands of the Nazis = 10 million known deaths, the European takeover of North American = uncalculated deaths that totaled the annihilation of multiple races and the loss forever of countless traditions and ways of life.
A really small segment of misguided people, attempting to seek justification in re-enacting that which the public has repeatedly rejected as far to painful, to far too many is again on a quest to show that anything is acceptable when it is defined as kink.
This response is written to assure that you are aware of those who will react in the extreme, to any such scenes played out in a public venue. While no one can deny the right of adults to do as they please in private as long as the acts are consensual and non injurious, no one should be dumb enough or uncaring enough to force this issue in a public venue.
For the record, I am one of those militant-minded individuals who will react violently to such a scene, should I to come upon one in public. All should be warned that I am not alone, as such would injure many and they will react most unpleasantly to such a scene.
It takes ovaries of steel, really, for me to do what I do and I rarely give myself credit for this. The first time I taught the race play class at a national event was Black Rose. I was very nervous. Afraid Id be heckled, booed out of the venue.
However. The room was SRO packed and filled with a broad spectrum (well, broad by Leather Community standards) of kinksters. All curious, all respectful, even when they differed in opinion.
This was gratifying because Id had my share of abuse heaped on my head. All of it from other POC.
I havent ever censored myself out of fear. I am not about to now.
Once I saw this message posted on a list associated with the Citadel, where Ill be presenting my discussion on race play the day after tomorrow, I brought it to the attention of Phil, the Manager of the Citadel. Taking my concerns seriously, he called an old friend of mine, Jay Wiseman, who is a good resource and cautious to a fault. Jay called me and calmed me down a bit. (Thanks dudes.)
Indeed, this is most likely posturing, and the threat wasnt SPECIFICALLY against ME.
But still
Over it.
I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that my posting the interview on race play I did would land me a few smacks in the head. I foolishly though that the fact I'd received many inquiries on the topic meant that people were genuinely curious. This far mostly it seem sot be condescension and ridicule, with few exceptions, once I opened the topic for discussion on the Advice Line. Some asshole was even snarky enough to suggest this was some sort bid for notoriety. Yeah. Because being called names by the uninformed and the ignorant is my idea of fame and fortune...? Not by a long shot.
I dunno. I think perhaps I am far more naive that even I thought possible.
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The FatGirl Pervert Rants.
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Apr 30, 2009 3:33 pm
1297 Views
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Im fat.
(For the record: I do not use / identify with the euphemism BBW (Big Beautiful Woman). I respect those who do, it just isnt my choice.
Large, Plus-Sized, Big are terms I occasionally use. For me, I prefer fat.)
I am, unsurprisingly, ambivalent about it.
There isnt a whole lot of acceptance around fatness today in the US.
And then, Im kinky.
Yay!
Oh, AND Black.
sigh
Today we will just rant about being fat and kinky.
Ahem!
{rant}
I came into the BDSM community, saw people all shapes sizes and body types in the Dungeon.
I thought Oh wow! Fantastic! A place where your body type doesnt matter, where you are accepted for who you are, and no one judges you!
Well.
No.
I started paying more attention to kinky porn. The models are still slender.
I look at photographs. Tough to find someone not unsvelte.
Hrm.
So then I think Well, that is still mainstream, right? It aint like Skin Two is gonna put fat people in there, they are pretty mainstreamy
Then I started going to kink events. Watching classes. Seeing that almost all of the demo bottoms are petite.
The rope people claim to need slender models because it is easier to work with them. You also hear it is tougher to find fat demo models because they are less likely to volunteer. The bondage gear people hide behind the equipment limitation issue.
And so on.
And so on.
I recently saw a post on FetLife calling for demo bottoms. Since this was for an event Im attending, I was eager to volunteer. Then I read the post. The instructor specifically asked for slender models, because (and I am paraphrasing a bit) fuller-figured peoples skin doesnt clamp / pinch easily.
I was really angry. And a bit stung.
Then I stopped myself.
How the fuck do we, an alternative outlier community, fail to see that all people being represented is far better then some people being represented?
Then I sat there pinching myself.
Quite literally.
I found it was pretty easy to grab skin on some areas, tougher on others. I imagine that to be the case with anyone.
To my jaundiced eye, this smacked of Look, I dont wanna play with fat girls so Ill say something about how it is critical for the class so that I dont have to reject a bunch of fat people.
Im fuming, thinking So
your class is on playing with thin people? You are specifically EXCLUDING an entire class of folks because of their size? What happens to the person in class who is fat, has a fat partner, or might play with a fat person? You have no info for them? Why not have a few demo bottoms? Why not just put your your fucking call for bottoms and pick who you want without being so OBVIOUSLY exclusionary? What if you were teaching a goddanmed class and said No brown skinned people because the marks dont show up as well on dark people. ?!?!
But then
I didnt say anything. Because I thought I was being hypersensitive.
Now, I wish I had.
If I run into this person at Beyond Leather, I will ask them about this situation.
Im willing to bet they will stick to their assertion that it isnt prejudice, that it really is just utility!
And my response would be, No. As an instructor, as a representative of Our Community, you have an obligation to educate. Not titillate. That is for the dungeon. We are responsible for helping people play safely and well. How does limiting your pool of demo bottoms further this?
I have to check myself, though.
The BDSM community is no different that the world at large, really. It just has that self-segregating aspect to it.
It is a microcosm. Not a utopia.
When BDSM porn producers consider a size 12 woman to be a large model, we havent made any strides towards inclusion.
The few classes I have seen that SPECIFICALLY include fat people and kink tend to approach it as an issue to be addressed
I dont have a fucking issue.
Im just fat.
And I want to be seen.
I dont want to be fetishized for being fat.
I dont want to be beautiful in spite of being fat.
I dont want to be beautiful because I am fat.
And I sure as hell do not want fat people sidelined and marginalized because we arent in your goddamned fetish magazines being held up as the ideal because we arent slender.
As beautiful as anyone can be, I want to be.
Years ago I had a lover grab hold of my belly during a fuck. I, of course, instinctively elbowed him in the ribcage and hollered for him to stop grabbing my fat. It made me uncomfortable. I didnt want him bringing attention to it. Being him, he smacked my hand away and grabbed me with BOTH hands this time and continued to fuck me.
I like it. So shut up.
Yeah I did.
Having been the fat girl that some men have gone outside of their physical ideal for, I am kind of tired of hearing Oh but you are so intelligent, so beautiful, we have such amazing chemistry and having them OVERLOOKING my size.
That is a lot to overlook.
I dont need for everyone on earth to think that fat girls are sexy, but I do need for my chosen family, the BDSM community, to take a look at our lock-stepping with mainstream ideas about beauty and own that shit.
Only then will it be OK for fat people to step forward and let ourselves be seen as part of the whole, and not set apart.
These photos in this post are from a photographer Im looking forward to working with soon. The reason I chose to work with him is that he selects his subjects based on who he thinks is hot. He had lots of women of varied body types in his photography. You can see examples here.
But for this post I chose the beautiful ones with bodies that look like mine.
Because I needed to remember that I am beautiful.
And I WILL fucking be seen.
{/RANT}
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Marked Inside.
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Apr 30, 2009 3:27 pm
1027 Views
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Yesterday afternoon I was walking through the lobby of the Beyond Leather host hotel here in Fort Lauderdale, Florida.
Not long after teaching my second class of the day, I found myself in an intriguing exchange with a dashing salt-and-pepper haired gentleman of British extraction. He was holding my hand and pressing his lips to the back of my hand. Hed been gazing admiringly at me as I crossed the lobby, and when hed initially spoken, I thought he was taking the piss. See, in the class Id just been teaching I had mentioned I had a particular weakness for accents. I thought this might be a bit of a flirtatious gambit. That was fine actually. This was day 2 of Beyond Leather and Id had many conversations in passing and some of the more silly ones had involved quite a bit of mental jockeying and word play.
This particular flirtatious ex-SAS Englishman and sadist had no of way of knowing he had scored a few points on my personal WIN! list. As he smiled at me, I was certainly intrigued. He asked if I was going to be playing that evening. I was, for the first time in 13 months of national Leather Events, able to say Yes, in fact, I do have a play date about which Im very excited!
He mentioned that he, too, would be playing. And even offered the approximate time and location of the scene he would be conducting. For those not familiar with typical Kink Scene interactions, this is about as big a flirt and flex flag as a top or dominant can wave when in this situation.
See, I dont know this dude from Adam. But inviting a bottom to watch you play demonstrates a modicum of confidence in displaying your skill, inviting them to check you out, so that they then have a common point of reference with regard to your play style.
And he seemed to be very interested in watching me play.
Kissing my hand again he lamented aloud Ah, well
would that you were submissive!
I sighed.
Actually, I am.
His gaze focused.
He smiled.
Yeah so.
Presumptuous?
Perhaps.
As my long time friend Bailey pointed out, this may well have been a fish for information. There are infinite ways of information gathering with a potential play-partner. By veering for this tack, he then had the opportunity to gauge my reaction to his question. The level of enthusiasm or dismissal can provide a great deal of information.
Though I was certainly at least interested in such an opportunity to observe, I dont often commit to multiple scenes in one night. I tend to go pretty deeply in playing and need to have that focus.
But I gave him my card. He clarified his interest in learning more about me.
One never knows.
One might not know, but if you are me, you do often have knowing.
Oddly, Id had a very strong feeling, a few days ago, that the playdate to which I was so looking forward wouldnt materialize. But I had no real reason to think that I would miss out of that opportunity. I mean, this had been planned in advance, there were THREE days in which to have plenty of flexibility, somewhere in there a scene could be arranged at sometime, yes?
Yes.
Of course.
Or no.
Im not of a mind to divulge my friends personal shit. I can say that, despite good intentions and despite my limited expectations, things derailed. And derailed badly.
A personal issue came up for my friend. He had to go deal with this in his own way. He understandably needed some space. I sent a series of text messages to check in as I was not at all sure what had happened. I did receive a bit of information from him which lead me to believe that yeah, something was uncool, but no emergency situation was unfolding.
I was disappointed but didnt wanna be selfish. Gotta let go of expectations, yeah? And probably this would resolve later.
I also was not, to be honest, convinced that I would let a distant situation derail me from enjoying something I wanted. There is a lot that happens in life over which you have no control. But you do have control over your reaction to these troubles. I know for me, I loathe the idea that some fuckery deprives me of joy. Life is too short.
I caught up with Bailey. We chatted up some girl talk and caught up while I tried to not take any of this crap personally, to see if possibly this could be salvaged. I didnt want to bug my erstwhile play-partner. He wasnt in a great headspace, and needed personal time. And if, in fact, this situation was so vexing his headspace wasnt in playing, well
so it goes. There was still Sunday
I didnt hear back after several messages and a voicemail. SO, I went to ground and just tried to relax. I really didnt feel like going to the dungeon and watching all of these people enjoying, once more, everything I was, once again, denied.
Then my phone rang and I was advised by a mutual acquaintance that my date had come out of his funk and, it seems, was cheering himself up by scenening with someone who was not me.
Let me say I was not in a graceful place upon receiving this news. Walking in to the playspace and confronting the situation was, for ME, out of the question.
So I lay in bed sobbing and feeling like absolute shit.
Once again, I wasnt enough, I was disposable, and I could be pushed aside in favor of someone else.
Regardless of whether or not this is true, this was how I felt.
Things were tangled and unhappy and only became more so after my distraught posts to Twitter were read by some people who were here at the event who, after offering me sympathetic support, conveyed to my anticipated play-partner that I was
not happy.
Interestingly, once he did contact me and came to my room (at my invitation) to talk, his affect was angry. Evidently my own expressions of upset were seen as an attack on his character.
I wasnt in a good place to have my own disappointment and battered ego confronted with his backlash. So I took a series of deep breaths and let him explain his side of the story. It was convoluted. And I have zero reason to think it was a lie. But my feelings have a right to be respected. And he fell down in the chain of communication by not responding to me.
I had to do something I have an absolutely difficult time with, and that was to make clear I thought there had been a failure. On his part. On a very basic level.
I know that life intrudes. I know that slings and arrows and sticks and stones and all of these things can belay even the best laid plans.
And I believe also that how one handles stress and storms is even more important than how one lives in smooth situations.
We all make mistakes. And sometimes those mistakes wound and slice the emotions of others. And at that point the only thing you can do is to take responsibility for your actions and reactions to this stress.
As I have a promise made to myself many years ago not to sleep on anger, we talked through my feelings, my reaction, his view of the situation, etc.
I can say I am proud of myself for remaining grounded by my emotional truth. I did not cave in to my reflex to Let it go. I weighed what forgiveness I could give him and what was just too much. I let my compassionate nature soothe my nerves and to trust that I was making concessions in the right place and standing firm in others.
And in the morning I did receive the apology that I needed to have that piece of responsibility acknowledged.
Today is a new day.
In these Leather Event situations, when you are in high profile mode, you certainly dont have time to be a mopey shithead when you are a presenter. And especially when you are me.
I had to publically interact with my friend, our very new truce in place. I will pat myself on the back again for handling that.
Though I certainly have no love for feeling like refried shit and having to suck it up and repair damaged friendships, I learned that I have the capacity to be strong and also to handle my shit with some dignity.
I also am proud that I held fast to my personal standards and not cave in to loneliness and desperation for play and pain and affection when it wasnt offered on terms that I could accept.
I have compromised before.
I have felt what that is like.
I have let people have what they wanted of me and leave the rest.
I know what that feels like.
I am not enthralled with the sensation of standing firm and holding fast to my core values and still feeling alone and lost. But I have to do this.
If I settle again for crumbs, delicious and tempting as they are, I will be left alone. Again.
See, the thing about compromise for me is this: if the other person gets everything that they wanted and I get some of what I want, I will soon find myself with an emotional deficit I have no way to close.
But I held my shit together. I had friends call and write and offer their love.
And someone does want that, can handle, is worthy
and someone will care with the capacity and focus that matches my own.
So tonight I will lie low, I think. I am not of a mind to be used and played and then left behind. Sometimes that can be very sexy. Not so much tonight.
And I have been invited back to Beyond Leather 2010, which is, for me, quite an honor. I heard I received universal glowing reviews. I can stand alone there too. That is all me, absorbing, distilling, filtering and serving up my life, my essence, me.
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In Gods Hands.
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Apr 16, 2009 11:14 am
1066 Views
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I felt the browning and curling and writhing death of a part of me that does this cyclically. The circle of life death lives and dies.
I watch this with a sadness I have felt over a dozen years over a dozen dozen lifetimes, and every time, it hurts.
But this time I have new understanding so the pain isnt a pain I seek to drown to overwhelm
to cover up to explain away. I feel it and let it overtake me, because only then can it live its life.
So much of our time is spent avoiding pain. As a masochist, I spend double that time again seeking out painful situations. Deliberately putting myself in the way of pain, in order to open a part of my puzzle-box soul that can only be accessed this way.
And then I am foolish enough to think I can then control this? That I can unleash primordialness, that the depths of my thoughts, the worst parts of me and the highest vibrations of my being
that these things can come out an scream and laugh and there is no aftermath that is past my understanding? That I can reach the most treacherous of pinnacles and not pay the price for that journey?
What are you, some kind of idiot savant arrogant sorceress empress of childlike idiocy?
Yeah, Im pretty amazing in my capacity to be the most magnificent filth in the room.
I had control, I did. The part of me that looks for the safety of service, for the amazing freedom of tightly restricted emotional intercourse, for the strength that I derive from enduring pain and the bodys suffering and the minds torment
that part was uncrated. Abruptly. I wasnt thinking that would happen, but it did. Fed it was and with this startling regeneration it immediately outgrew the dusty box into which Id crammed it a few years ago.
Goddess, it is beautiful. I marvel at that part of myself. It has roots to forever and limbs that fuck off the ionosphere and it shouts itself to galaxies unimagined.
But I keep it away because I am very, very afraid that, despite the seeming strength, it is so easily bruised. Samson, Achilles, all heroes have their weakness. And my hero inside, my rooted happy precious submissive me had a little bit of air and sun and water and fuck all burst the seams of its hold. Sought sun. Found words, got light and air and whispered to me of how we will be.
I listen to this with shock because
this is me I hear. A Me I didnt know I still remembered. Me buried in alcohol, depression, loneliness, lies to myself, bullshit I fed others. New. Renewed. Clean and precise as the morning and walking in beauty like the night.
Then it sighed, and began to fade.
I tried to hold on to it, shore up the drooping trunk and stop the falling of branches and leaves and water it with tears. I dont understand why I cant have this feeling all of the time. I want it. No, I can say I need it. Without it I am never sure I am here. Really here. Really seen. But It dies. And I panic. Im sure that something essential is going away and I am only aware for he first time how important it is.
But the dying is
beautiful. I watch as my thoughts become separated from my ego. How my needs are left behind, quiet, fallow.
Fallow, not dead.
NEVER dead.
I back away to think, to feel this through. What I need, the submission I AM, it isnt dead simply because there isnt the other spirit there to receive it. It merely rests.
But I dont know what to do with it, because now it is bigger than the rude little box into which Id crammed it a few years ago.
But my Lord has a place for it. Giving this to God is the best thing I can do. It isnt mine to keep, this soul of mine. I am OK with having a Special Needs Spirit. A caretaker must be present in order for it to flourish.
This doesnt mean I give up, or go away. It means that there are some things, some parts of me, that are to be held, precious, secure, loved, until the person comes along who sees it, is worthy of it, craves it above all other beings, and takes it
So, until then, Ill leave it in the hands of God.
All four of them
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*whew* Back from Portland.
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Apr 1, 2009 6:29 pm
1088 Views
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I was in Portland for KinkFest this past weekend. It was an excellent event, and this was my second year of being invited to teach.
My most recent posts on {http://mollena.com} have the details.
But it is nice to be back, albeit droll to realize that there is no"Return to Normal" when I come down off of kink events.
It is back to digging through profiles, writing snappy kinky one liners and meetings about ... well ... smut.
On a note of "Hey, Cool!" I'm going to be in the April edition of Mistress Matisse's column in The Stranger, which is Seattle's Alternative Weekly and the stomping grounds of Dan Savage. It tickles me mightily that the original "Answer Faggot" will be reading my stuff. 
Even as I got home to unpack my bag I realized that was kind of silly, as I am going to Florida in a few weeks for Beyond Leather.
Any Florida pervs gonna be there?
I am glad, this time, that I have a play date to look forward to. 
I haven't played at a kink event since last-year's Kinkfest, believe it or not.
Well, believe it.
Although I am assured by many people it isn't because no one wants to play with me. I guess people assume presenters have their dance cards full and are all cool and shit.
Well, this one isn't.
I'm fussy and picky and all, but that has nothing to do with being a presenter!
That has to do with being....scared.
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Oh Look. Something Else Fucking Broken. *headdesk*
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Mar 25, 2009 11:07 am
962 Views
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Thank you.
Thank you for NOT MAKING "NETWORK ONLY POSTS" stay PRIVATE.
*fumes*
See, I don't have anything I put on the net I assume is sacrosanct.
But give me the illusion of filtering, willya?!?
Sure, I can go down the hall and talk to the Systems People.
And I'll be told to set up a Bug Report.
Which Won't be prioritized.
Meanwhile, my *squee* remains public.
WHATevar.
*pfft*
Double check your "Network Only" posts, folks.
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To link to this blog (Mollena) use [blog Mollena] in your messages.
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