Intro to BDSM

My newest DA post is live today: This Intro to BDSM Is So Good It Hurts

Hahaha. Cheesy!

My intro is below; make sure to go read the rest!

“Consider this a very brief introduction to BDSM, often called kink.

BDSM stands for:

  • Bondage/Discipline
  • Domination/Submission
  • Sadism/Masochism

BDSM relationships, or kinky relationships, may or may not coincide with open/ethically nonmonogamous relationships.

You will find because BDSM relationships require a great deal of explicit communication and negotiation, partners in those relationships have consented to some kind of open relationship as well (the explicit communication style tends to bleed over.)

However, there also are plenty of sexually monogamous kinky couples.”

What is your experience with BDSM like? Is it icing on your cake, the whole cake, or perhaps a sprinkle in your erotic life? Or do you just like it vanilla all the time?

What Does it Mean to Be Monogamous?

I was reading my friend’s recent blog post (Question: Can being monogamish help you be monogamous?) and it inspired this post. Thanks Lo! 🙂

I think it is worth taking some power away from language at times, and in the case of “monogamy” and “monogamous,” it’s time to share the power. Why does the word hold so much weight and meaning and emotion? That’s obviously a long conversation that gets into religion, patriarchy, purity, virginity, etc. But why does it still have to hold that kind of weight?

We were talking with some friends recently about whether choosing to have a nonmonogamous or polyamorous relationship is actually devolving from monogamy- whether somehow we might be giving up an evolved aspiration to be monogamous. My response to that train of thought is generally: humans are rarely “monogamous,” and over the course of time that humans have been around, I don’t think our species has ever been largely monogamous. And yet the word remains and gets thrown around with so much importance.

In order to take away some of its power, I think it would be helpful to talk about monogamy in different ways. Here are some different definitions that I have read, heard of, thought of. Some of these overlap/mean the same thing:

-Monogamous: one sexual partner for life

-Socially monogamous: a couple presents as sexually/romantically/emotionally monogamous to their larger community but in practice has other partners, rules, boundaries, etc.

-Emotionally monogamous: a couple retains certain boundaries around their emotional and romantic connection, but leaves the door open for other sexual partners/encounters

-Sexually monogamous: a couple retains sexual exclusivity, although they may have leeway for developing deep emotional relationships with other people

-Serial monogamy: one sexual/romantic partner at a time

-Monogamish: a couple behaves monogamously most of the time, with exceptions given for certain behaviors/events (a once-a-year threesome, traveling out of town one night stand, etc.)

The interesting thing to me about the term “monogamish” (coined by Dan Savage) is that it offers the privileges of monogamy to couples and helps couples retain couple privilege while also allowing them to explore the expansiveness of nonmonogamy, albeit with many limitations. I don’t know how I feel about that privilege piece, from a macro perspective. It gives me a similar feeling as those who are bisexual and choose not to come out because, since they are partnered to someone of the opposite gender, don’t have to. To essentially practice nonmonogamy and yet retain the privileges of a monogamously presenting couple is troubling- when will we all realize how many of us don’t fit into the mainstream ideal of a lifelong Disney relationship? And when will nonmonogamy become more mainstream? Perhaps “monogamish” relationships are part of how nonmonogamy will enter the mainstream, though- maybe it’s just what the nonmonogamous community needs to become more respected and recognized. What do you think?

In terms of the question that my friend received on her blog- what do you think? Can practicing “a little” nonmonogamy help you stay monogamous? Is that even possible? Can you really consider yourself monogamous if you aren’t really practicing monogamy? I think this is where the term “social monogamy” is helpful, although I don’t really know 🙂

3 Years of Openness

J and I have been together over 7 1/2 years and now open/poly for 3 years today! I love that April Fools is our open anniversary. 😀

I feel like we nurture two overlapping relationships. One is the relationship we have had since we met in college. I hold dear the history we have together, the knowledge we have of each other’s ins and outs and highs and lows, the presence we have in one another’s families and daily lives. The other relationship is this dynamic poly relationship that is growing and changing and will forever continue to do so. We have had that relationship for less time than the other and so I know we will continue to experience growth and setbacks and more growth. These two relationships intermingle and give each other support: our monogamous beginnings give me both a sense of stability and motivation for moving away from monogamy, and our open/poly relationship gives me excitement and introspection and fire.

Phoenix

Happy Anniversary, Lover Boy

and Happy Love, however it comes to you, my dear reader

Normaling

This post has been percolating in my mind for a few days, and I’m just getting around to writing it.

J and I have been normaling: ripping up carpets and painting and going to Home Depot have been, largely, exciting and fun. Because of all of the changes in our lives in the past six months, we have also been much more sexually monogamous of late (and I say “much more” because the frequency of extra-dyadic sex for us has gone way down in the past few months, but not down to zero). We’re still nonmonogamous at heart (J still checks the Craigslist ads and I still fantasize about others) but I also know that for me, my desire for others goes way down when I haven’t gotten my fill of J.

It’s been hard lately. He’s commuting two hours each day during the week and is understandably totally exhausted. And I’ve been in the pit of body image horror. Put exhaustion and emotional wreckage together and I think it makes sense that sex is difficult to attain.

But back to the normaling thing. I just love this scene from 30 Rock- leave it to Jenna and Paul to kinkify “normal” (vanilla, straight) relationship-y things. I feel like they’re on to something.

What do you think? Are you able to find the sexy and pleasurable and connecting parts of everyday vanilla life? Can you maintain some separateness and mystery in the midst of totally-togethering activities?

DV, Sex Addiction, & Sexy Sex

I was listening to a survivor yesterday talk about her experiences, and near the end of our conversation she mentioned that something that was not covered by the survey I had her fill out was the fact that she felt abused by her ex-husband’s sex addiction. She mentioned that she never spent money on herself because so much of their money was spent on lingerie models and 1-900 numbers and possibly “illegal things” (aka prostitutes?). She said it was one of their long-standing battles, and that it was abusive not just because of the financial impact but because it also made her feel “not good enough.”

This was a complex issue for me to listen to and digest.

1. You always believe a survivor. That’s trauma-informed and survivor-informed. If she felt abused by her ex’s sexual proclivities, then I believe her.

2. I don’t believe “sex addiction” is a thing. However, if someone told me they felt “addicted” to sex, then I would believe them. I do think people are the experts on their own lives. Again, though, I don’t think it’s quite the right word to describe a behavior pattern related to seeking out sex/sexual experiences.

3. I wonder about many of the men I have met and danced for at my club. How many of them have wives at home who hate the fact that they patronize strip clubs and spend money on strippers? How many of them have a different persona at the club versus when they are home with their families? How many abusers have I danced for?

4. She asked me how and why I got into domestic violence work, and I answered the best I could. I mentioned that the spectrum of sexuality was my passion, from education to intervention. Listening to her, though, I was reminded of how bummed out I can feel when I realize so many people see sexuality as something to be tightly controlled, and how constricted people can get from being inundated with messages related to monogamy and purity. I would love to do more prevention work.

5. This woman was a Christian and made several comments that led me to believe that even though she knew her ex was “bad news” from the beginning, it took her 25 years to divorce him because she didn’t think divorce was okay. She also talked with me a bunch about how her goal was to break the cycle of poverty with her kids, and that it didn’t look like it was going to happen. I was reminded of my mom and how my mom did manage to break that cycle for herself and her kids- and it made me think of research on why certain people are able to do certain things that others from their peer group struggle to do (Malcom-Gladwell-like research).

I have been processing that 2 1/2 hour long meeting since yesterday, and I’m still chewing on it. I’m still a little hung up on the sex addiction/sex worker piece of it. It also reminded of this piece (“Sex Criminals 2013“) on “Tits and Sass” from the other day, and this particular passage:

“And you put her with a guy like Jon, who spent his adolescence taking in all the free porn he could get, and of course you have this near-couple who wind up using porn as a way to segue into sex. These are the exact couples I see every Saturday at my club—where the woman looks uncomfortable and the guy doesn’t want to seem too interested in any of the dancers because he doesn’t want to make her jealous, so they hang back, refusing to engage with you, and refusing to pay. Because to them, sex workers aren’t real people. If they admitted we were real people working to give them  a fantasy, then they would have to admit they are using other people to spice up their sex lives without, you know, paying us or acknowledging the fact that we are working, as opposed to acting sexual purely for the fun of it. It’s a selfish thing that’s incredibly easy to do, especially to porn actors, who are extra removed from reality by way of always interacting with the viewer through a screen or a photo. And that is exactly why Suzi can’t listen to Jazmine defend herself. Because, in a way, Suzi needs Jazmine to be sexualized just as much as Jon does. If the sex worker becomes real, then you’re going to have to admit that there’s a person that you’re harming with your negative opinions of them, and why would you want to do that?”

Thanks for reading my convoluted post 🙂

To wrap it up, I just need to celebrate the fact that I got laid last night!!!! (This whole job/home buying/moving process has really taken the wind out of our sails the past two weeks) So- I slept really well last night and feel really good this morning. Let’s hear it for SEX!! 😀

Smoldering

My heart dropped to my stomach, and the butterflies started.

“Hi!”

I am accustomed to saying hi to people when I am standing naked or half-naked in my club. But all of a sudden I was completely aware of every inch of my nakedness.

“Hi” he smiled. He looked the same as before, but even better.

All of a sudden my Saturday became infinitely more interesting and appealing and exciting. My insides went haywire, my nervous energy went through the roof, my desires electrifying me. As the only customer I had ever had that I would see outside of the club romantically, my usual calm was replaced by smoldering heat.

We sat down at the bar.

“How have you been? I haven’t seen you in forever.”

It was true. Last July was the last time, and we both knew it. The summer heat and the chemistry between us had culminated in an erotic time in the private dance room. I had given him free dances because I wanted to be there longer. I mostly sat on his lap, grabbing onto his hair, staying close. It was extremely hot. And then he had left, almost fled, really. And I didn’t see him again, and didn’t know if I ever would again. Until today.

We chatted. I filled him in on my school and work adventures, and then he said:

“I had to reign myself in after that last time I was here. I actually had a girlfriend then and still do… I was afraid that it would have gone further if I didn’t keep myself from coming back in to see you.”

I nodded, unsurprised, unphased. Many people who come in are partnered, and it’s just part of the business. People often want a pseudo girlfriend or to find a fantasy. I fill the role as I please, knowing that the club is as far it goes.

He, however, was afraid that I would be offended that he hadn’t told me the truth. I wasn’t, which he found to be a gracious offering.

My nervous energy continued to ebb and flow, and I found a piece of me totally deflated. Sad. Hungry for the connection that couldn’t be satisfied. Was he coming in as a test to himself? To see if he could leave after one beer? Or two? Or three? During my third set of the time he was there, he finally moved from the bar to the table closest to the stage. When I got off, he said:

“Well it’s confirmed. I can’t resist you. I have to make the executive decision to leave. I have to leave. I have to leave right now.”

My bumbling, fumbling, horribly awkward self was barely able to make coherent conversation while he had been there, and all of a sudden I found myself with even fewer words to hold onto. It was like trying to pick up a bar of soap in the shower, or taking off a wet swimsuit. Horrible and aggravating.

He left after a hug and I didn’t even get a way to stay in touch with him. No number, no last name, nothing.

I had asked earlier, “Will I ever see you again?”

To which he replied: “I don’t know.”

Smoldering-Remains-48x48

Christopher Ryan TED Talk

I love Sex at Dawn– many of you know if we are friends or if you’ve followed this blog since the beginning that the book is what kick started J and I into exploring nonmonogamy. There are those out there who find the book and arguments within it preposterous or outlandish or unsubstantiated. And the truth is- you can argue just about anything, especially when it gets into prehistorical human behaviors. But the overarching argument Ryan and Jetha make (that humans are evolutionarily and naturally promiscuous and that monogamy is a social construct) still holds for us, and the evidence that they bring together provides a really strong foundation for their argument. I still recommend that book highly to anyone who asks about it.

Here is Ryan on TED; it’s a solid video worth watching, and would be a great introduction for people who haven’t yet read the book and a nice recount for those of us who have read it.

Equality & Sex

J sent me this article, and I’ve seen it posted in other places as well; it’s worth a read: “Does a More Equal Marriage Mean Less Sex?”

It’s an interesting proposition, and seemingly substantiated by well-known researchers in the areas of marriage, sexuality, and attraction: relationships marked by sameness and a high degree of intimacy are also marked by less heat. Thus, they tend to be marked by less sex.

The question that I still have after reading this article, though, is: Even if equality between two partners is correlated with less sex in the relationship, shouldn’t we be looking at other factors that lead to less sex?

My fear with this article, is that it will lead readers to say “equality causes less sex” (the correlation versus causation problem), rather than diving into the other factors that mark modern long-term relationships: sameness, intimacy, and an expectation that a partner meets 100% of our needs and vice versa. These factors seem to be the real erotic/passion “killers,” not equality.

Perhaps it is not men engaging in “feminine” housework that leads to a decrease in how much sex they have with their female partners, but the structure of the relationship which requires each partner to do everything for one another, as opposed to relying on other people in their social network. Modern LTRs are founded on the idea that one person will complete you and fulfill all of your needs, desires, and wants- they will be your best friend, motivator, spiritual coach, workout buddy, financial advisor, mechanic, and a sexual ATM (and perhaps a co-parent or business partner and more). Putting that kind of pressure on yourself and your partner is destined to kill some erotic energy- talk about stress and stretching your attention and focus, not to mention gluing yourselves together. Space seems invaluable in retaining the individuality and separateness necessary in order to still want one another.

The closing quote from Esther Perel is pertinent to this:

““It’s the first time in history we are trying this experiment of a sexuality that’s rooted in equality and that lasts for decades,” Esther Perel said. “It’s a tall order for one person to be your partner in Management Inc., your best friend and passionate lover. There’s a certain part of you that with this partner will not be fulfilled. You deal with that loss. It’s a paradox to be lived with, not solved.””

Except I would say that we can at least brainstorm around this paradox. I think ethical nonmonogamy does quite a bit to transform this paradox of LTRs into more of a continuum, in which you can choose a structure that matches the pros and cons you want out of a relationship: how much intimacy and closeness and eroticism and heat do I want in my relationship, and how am I going to go about getting those things? Will we live together? Have separate bedrooms? Share details about every minute of our days? Invite other people into our bedroom? Date other people? Travel and vacation separately?

What do you think?

This is another piece worth reading: “No Sex, Please, We’re on Medicare” Don’t fall into ageist baloney about older people not needing, desiring, or deserving sex, and heed one of the last lines: “Sexual health is part of health.” No, duh.

Virginity & Hookups

J had passed along these two articles a couple weeks ago, and because of my deluge of school reading, I just read them this week:

Does My Virginity Have a Shelf Life?

and

In Hookups, Inequality Still Reigns

So many points I want to make. But the main takeaways from both for me were:

-Debra Herbenick rocks. Definitely check out her blog, My Sex Professor. Her point in the second piece about why we are so focused on women’s orgasms, if women aren’t as focused on orgasms themselves, is spot on to me. If orgasm is important to someone, and they aren’t satisfied with their current sexual relationships and encounters because they aren’t having orgasms, then it could be rich to explore that. Otherwise, what’s the fuss?

-This also points to a larger lack of sexual intelligence in our culture. Orgasm does not equal sexual perfection. Yes, orgasms are pleasurable and connecting and relaxing and cathartic. But not having an orgasm does not necessarily mean that the sex was unsatisfying, unwanted, or otherwise negative.

-The first piece left me a bit speechless (a rarity, really). I felt sad and shocked reading it. Not because virginity is sad to me, but because a lack of sexual intelligence is sad to me- it points to a lack of sexual education and self awareness, pieces that everyone deserves to cultivate and benefit from. The author seems clear on defining virginity as no PIV sex, and it seems like she has engaged in other kinds of sexual acts with partners. Why is the penetrative PIV act the epitome of virginity? Who does that serve? In this instance, it seems that the concept has done a pretty big disservice to the author, creating discomfort and insecurity, and perpetuating an idea of “the soul mate” for whom she can finally give up her (PIV) V-card.

-I had a (woman) customer at work this past weekend, who was so fabulous at differentiating at different types of virginity.

“Yeah, this guy I’m dating is a threesome virgin. Crazy, right?!”

“What about a private dance? I’m a lap dance virgin!”

I appreciated my conversation with her so much, and even more so after I read the above articles.

It adds richness to our lives to broaden our definitions of what sex is, of what being sexual means. Have different definitions for “virgin.” Know why you hold onto certain definitions, dig into them. Try being sexual without reaching orgasm to experience a different range of your sexuality. Let me know your thoughts on the above articles; there’s a lot there to chew on.