Redefining Sexuality For The Better – Part 2

— April 9, 2015

For part 1 of this, click here

The break up followed two weeks later. It was perfect timing because after that evening at the dungeon my interest in the kink community was off the charts. And while the end of the relationship left me in a messy state, I had the idea of this new community to explore. So I signed up for an online kink social networking site and browsed around. It felt like the moment I had discovered punk rock and wanted to learn everything it had to offer. Like after I heard the Sex Pistols and walked in to a record store for the first time. I had so many options and I wanted to know every little aspect this new thing had to offer and I only had so much time and my weekly allowance to buy one tape. Truthfully, it really did help keep my mind off of the pain.

So I read articles about submission and domination. I listened to podcasts about financial domination, sploshing, and confinement. I learned that there was a secret world out there, lurking around every corner in every town. There were weekly kink meet-ups (munches) where people who were into fire-flogging and shibari could come together and eat together at restaurants next to families that had no idea what was going on, all for the expressed purpose of meeting new people and sharing ideas. So I joined a meet up group and RSVP’d to attend the next munch.

Funny enough, it just happened to be hosted in the party room of a restaurant where I last waited tables. I intentionally got there an hour late, but so did everyone else. The tables had been pushed together to make one long table that sat 40 people and when someone would enter the room most everyone said hello. Outside of being respectful in a public place, there was only one rule – no saved seats. Meaning, unless you were eating, once you got up anyone could take your seat. The idea was to facilitate meeting new people.

Turned out, I was a bit of an outsider. Like any community, people tend to be a bit leery about welcoming strangers into their world – mostly because people turn out to be tourists that don’t understand the protocol. While everyone was polite on the surface, no one was really talking to me outside of pleasantries and it seemed like most people were sticking to their own group of friends. Completely understandable but a bit disappointing nonetheless. I did make some friends over eating hot wings and we chatted about the swingers clubs we had attended and that was refreshing. I had never just sat around a packed table of strangers discussing sexuality and effective sexual communication. It was casual, with no creepy vibes. No one was whispering like it was some dirty secret. No one was ashamed that their kinks and fetishes differed from the next person. It was a true community. One designed to encourage discussion and to learn more about people’s idiosyncrasies. That we are all sexual beings and sexuality should be fun and not shameful. No one should be shamed for what turned them on as long as everyone involved was of age and consenting. And the only true way to know if someone is consenting is by communicating expectations and desires. And I liked that. It echoed a sentiment that I had said for years that everyone should always leave with a hug or a smile. Even in the darkest and most extreme of scenarios, people should feel empowered by their expression of sexuality. Whether you’re flogging someone, being choked, or putting someone in a cage – as long as you have clearly expressed your desires and expectations, you are simply living out a fantasy. And that fantasy is no less valid simply because a repressed society sees it as “weird”, “slutty”, or “unhealthy.” Because when you determine your level of involvement and people are respectful of your desires, you are in complete control – even if that scene is that you are giving up control.

I walked out of the restaurant with a handful of new contacts and a head full of enthusiasm. I couldn’t even talk this openly about sexuality with the majority of my friends and it felt like I could finally exhale and express myself in a more truthful way around a room of strangers. I came home and spent time writing about my new-found experience and I couldn’t wait to explore.

That night changed the way that I approached relationships and my interactions with dating. I learned not only the importance of communication but the whys and hows of the words. I learned to be more accepting of sexuality that I couldn’t grasp. That just because certain fetishes didn’t do anything for me, didn’t mean that they weren’t empowering for someone else – and that was important to understand. And that if someone is unwilling to communicate their desires and expectations that we were simply not compatible because I needed someone who wasn’t ashamed of who they truly were as a person.

My inclusion of this new community opened doors and forced me to be a more understanding and empathetic person. Someone who was sex-positive and who took it as a personal responsibility to talk to as many people who would listen about the benefits of a healthy sexual lifestyle.
Even if that meant you left with a bruised ass. 🙂

About author

Christopher Gutierrez

Christopher Gutierrez is the author of several books on love, sex, and relationships. He also hosts a weekly podcast, The Deep End, in addition to running Deadxstop Publishing. Since 2006, he has given hundreds of speakings at colleges, coffee houses and universities all over the world.