The Key
to Kinky Happiness
by Gloria G. Brame
The following piece originally appeared
(in different form) as the introduction to the book, CONSENSUAL
SADOMASOCHISM, by Dr. William Henkin and Sybil Holiday (Daedalus
Publishing).
Self-acceptance and self-esteem are
the cornerstones of a happy life. For people who are sexually
unconventional, this foundation is often shaky and, at times,
non-existent. In our culture, it is difficult to feel good about
yourself when the sting of a whip is your idea of a sensual
caress.
Ever since psychiatrists in 19th Century
Europe first classified kinky behaviors as abnormal, ugly myths
have prevailed over honest information. Sexual variations which
are largely the outgrowth of normal and innate human impulses
have been labeled as perversions and sicknesses; people who
long for intense sensations or unusual erotic experiences have
been branded sinners and sociopaths. We have no public role
models to show us that it is possible to act out unusual sexual
fantasies safely and lovingly. The popular image of the "sexual
pervert" is of a shady, neurotic character who lurks in dark
bars, incapable of intimacy, consumed by morbid, even violent,
urges.
Whether we crave the elaborate rituals
of goddess worship or the complex structure of Master/slave
relationships, the liberating captivity of bondage or the playful
discipline of adult spankings, those of us who explore the world
of sexual dominance and submission are repeatedly sent the message
that who we are and what we want are all wrong. We are told
this by people who represent authority in our lives--our parents,
our teachers, our doctors, our clergy. When we dare to confess
our fantasies to lovers, we face rejection and ridicule.
In the face of near-universal disapproval,
we feel ashamed of who we are; we resist our emotions and repress
our needs. Sexual sadists fear that they may be serial killers
in disguise; sexual masochists worry that they may secretly
have victim- complexes. Fetishists feel isolated and guilty,
believing that a desire to worship feet or to wear rubber is
a kind of mental illness.
Many crossdressers endure desperate
cycles of binging and purging with clothes, the way bulimics
do with food. They become obsessed with their fantasies, amassing
whole collections of garments, wigs, and accessories. When the
lust wears itself down, they throw everything away in disgust,
vowing to change. Inevitably, of course, the needs resurface,
the binging begins again, and the cycle repeats.
The anxiety about being sexually unconventional
is so pervasive that even those who have come to terms with
their own kinks may find it hard to accept the kinky things
that others do.
I once attended a fetish event where
a group of corset enthusiasts refused to be seated near the
"whips and chains crowd" because they believed the myth that
people who enjoy giving or receiving pain are dangerous to others.
Sexual variations such as the erotic interest in enemas (klismaphilia)
or the desire to wear diapers and baby clothes (infantilism)
make some kinky people so uncomfortable the topics never even
come up at kinky support/education groups.
So how can we overcome the prejudices--both
from without and within--which have made it so difficult for
us to feel good about ourselves? First, by looking towards the
dozens of writers, psychologists, and activists who are now
creating a new literature of sexual enlightenment which shows
us, for the first time, that being unusual is not really as
unusual as we think. There are quite literally millions, if
not tens of millions, of people who enjoy sexual variations
of one kind or another.
We can turn to alternative sexuality
projects and educational groups, both on-line and off-line,
which provide forums for candid dialogue about formerly taboo
needs and desires. There we can read about and talk to kinky
people who lead positive lives and have satisfying, long-term
relationships.
But the most important step is to
take stock of our own lives and to recognize our personal achievements.
Whether it's our success in meeting obligations at home and
at work; our contributions to our communities or our churches;
or the loyalty and compassion we've shown relatives and friends,
our own lives demonstrate a simple fact. Being sexually different
does not us any less moral, any less decent, or any less precious
than other human beings--it is simply a facet of our complex
lives. When we learn to accept ourselves, as we are and for
we are, we will build a foundation for personal happiness that
no myth can shake.
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