Way back near the beginning of my Kitten Calendar adventures,
in 2012, I went to see fabulous, gorgeous, famous submissive Mollena Williams
(Now Williams-Haas: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6NK6CzRSufo))
do a book signing for Playing Well With
Others (http://www.greenerypress.com/kink-titles/playing-well-with-others.html)
at
our local high-end sex shop.
“Your pussy doesn’t care about your politics, “she
said, and as a fellow badass feminist submissive (This was before I headed to switchtown.)
I loved that so, so much. I still do! But in my life, loving that sentiment
strikes me as deeply pre-2016. Who could have guessed that seven years later, I’d
have a very political hat named after my vagina, and would sometimes wear it to
the grocery store?!
As much as I would still love to escape into the joy
of that sentiment, my sex drive isn’t a separate part of me. It’s in my body and
soul, and my body and soul ARE my politics. That definitely limits the snuggles,
but for me it’s the only integrated and happy way to live, love, and get spanked.
And yep, superyep, it gets lonely sometimes.
I’m not sure whether it was Comedy Guy’s weasely mishandling
of his Twitter #metoo or just being a bad match that turned me off. I certainly
don’t blame him for telling me the story, but I DO blame him for telling me the
story and then expecting me to take care of him about it. That’s just gross.
Even after dates that don’t work out, I usually feel
energized and inspired the next day—I tried! There was snuggling! I talked to
someone new! Gold stars all around! But I didn’t feel that way after my date
with Comedy Guy. I felt drained and a little flulike, unsure of how I would
stay awake for Endgame with Sweetie. (My hot take: I liked it a bunch!)
But the movie cheered me up, and so did thinking about
this: Clothes in my size, whether I was at an 18 or a 24, used to be really,
really hard to find. Because of that, I often settled for things I didn’t
really want. I hung onto a pair of black leggings that didn’t go all the way
up, that fit so poorly that they cut they ass in half horizontally. I hung onto
them for the longest time because I didn’t know when I would have another pair.
Now there’s clothes my size in most stores, and not just dumb generic ones, but
femme-tastic, really specific ones. Now I’m faced with having to learn how to
see clothes with a sense of abundance, getting used to the sensation of
actually choosing. There’s a reason the rebels in Dietland all wear jewel-toned
leggings! In some ways, we are significantly more free.
I realize that my approach to dating has sometimes been
like those dumb, ill-fitting leggings. Sex and love are not currently designed
for people like me, and I felt like I had to take what I could get. It wasn’t
hard to admit what I wanted, but I still struggle to believe it’s possible. I
want to realize that I can wait for what I want, that I don’t have to stuff
myself into things that don’t fit or dim the colors of my heart in any way. I’m
straining the metaphor, but still. So here’s a little list of what I want:
1. Romance
2. Freedom
3. Humor
4. Consent
5. Inspiration
That’s a good start, right?
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| Not a Comedy Guy text. I'm so, so, proud of this one but I'm a little bummed I might have to send a lot like it!!! |
