Vir Cotto's BDSM Blog

We are a sexual minority... we just can't appropriate someone else's struggle

Let's be honest with ourselves for a moment. If you push past aside the tittilating photos on K&P, and the sexy erotic literature that our friends post, this community (online or offline) is a sexual minority. It's taken me a long time to realize I was part of this sexual minority group. It's been a lot of years of denial, but it's true. For some of us, kink is a nice add-on to our existing sexual lives, but kink isn't optional for me, it's a integral part of who I am, and sadism is deeply connected to my sexuality, just as many people's kinks are an integral part of who they are.

We are indeed a sexual minority. or for those of us who don't identify as sexual, or whose sexuality is separate from our kink, our erotic identity.

I don't like the word kink. Kink implies a little "something extra". I see other websites where people list their kinks as "redheads", but for me my kink isn't a preference, it's deeply entwined with my being, and when I live it, I feel fulfilled. I, we, are a sexual minority.

And we're persecuted for it. People in this community often live dual lives, with fake names that we go by in order to provide some semblance of protection in case a family member or coworker were to find out that our personal/sexual/romantic lives do not fit into societal norms. And shit gets real when people lose jobs, relationships or family over being outed.

We have taken this concern and fear and dressed it up and made it fun, but underlying the scene, for many of us, is the pain, fear and personal struggle that we've had in our lives figuring out who we were and what we really needed in our lives.

I read JeffMach's post on the word queer. If you haven't read it, you should:

I'm a straight man, and he's right. I don't get it. I don't really know the same struggle he does. I've had an inkling, albeit a small one. The first time I was openly affectionate with a trans woman in a public place, I felt it, that little jolt of fear, of "Oh shit!", "...what if someone thinks I'm gay and what if they want to start trouble over it.." I'm over six feet tall and weigh over 250lbs, and I still felt scared. In fact, if it wasn't for my size and my male-ness, I don't know if I'd have had the guts to keep going. And this was in New York City, one of the most liberal places in the world, and I felt that fear.

And the worst part for me then was knowing that for me, this fear was just in that one moment, but for her, it was ALL THE TIME.

Yes, kinksters, we are a sexual minority, and a persecuted one, and we do need a term to describe ourselves, but unless you personally have to feel this fear all the time, then stay the fuck away from their terms, especially ones which have been reclaimed. They're not yours.