One of the big struggles that families have to deal with is talking to their kids about issues of sex and relationships. When the family in question doesn't look like most families (such as those who are in same sex relationships, or polyamorous) this can be particularly complicated. Deciding when and how to discuss these issues with kids is really hard.
Right now my family is struggling with that. My boyfriend's son is 4, and starting to become aware of my place in the family. He's too young to understand about sex and romantic love, but he knows I'm close with his parents in a way that isn't like their other friends. He recently called me "Daddy's special best friend" and when asked who the people in his family are, he included me (as well as the dogs).
In most situations there'd be no need to say anything. He already "gets" it on the level he needs to at his age, and we would answer any questions he had as they came up. We'd probably start talking about LGBT issues a bit as he enters kindergarten this fall, and not worry a whole lot.
Unfortunately, my boyfriend, like many people, has fundamentalist Catholic parents who are going to make this difficult for us. His father will not only freak out if he discovers his son is bisexual and non-monogamous, he will also pull out all of his support for the family (much of which is financial right now) and will probably try to seek custody of the kid, declaring both my boyfriend and his wife unfit parents. Such a custody dispute would not succeed, but he'd try and it would be terribly stressful.
It's just one more way religious fundamentalism complicates the lives of those of us in sexual minority groups. We want this child raised in an accepting environment where his questions can be answered openly and honestly. We want him to be able to be close with all of us. But instead we have to pull back, and hide things from him. The damage that could be done by the babble of a four year old is enormous.
Eventually he will be able to understand ideas about privacy and "things we don't tell Grandma and Grandpa" and such. But for now, it's just frustrating.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Friday, July 22, 2011
Rebecca Watson is my hero!
I posted some stuff about my thoughts about privilege and stuff previously here.
That being said, Rebecca Watson from Skepchick has posted a follow up video. It is awesome, and I HAD to link to it here.
The video is here
That being said, Rebecca Watson from Skepchick has posted a follow up video. It is awesome, and I HAD to link to it here.
The video is here
Sunday, July 17, 2011
I don't always ageplay
I had 2 different people ask me today if I was okay - both noticed that I didn't spend any time in the "Little's Room" at MTKF (other than the classes I went to and taught in there) and were wondering if there was a problem.
I reassured both of them - I'm FINE, there isn't a problem, and I appreciated the concern but I had reasons for doing other things this weekend.
This startled me though. I don't want to be known as "just an ageplayer" in exactly the same reasons some of my friends who do rope work don't want to be known as "just a rigger." Many kinksters have a wide range of interests, and may sometimes spend a whole weekend/event/month/relationship doing things OTHER than the kind of play that we are best known for.
For ME, I spent the weekend doing more classic BDSM play instead of ageplay because I attended the event with my boyfriend and my play partner (his wife) and neither of them are ageplayers. This was their first event, and we wanted to play together, learn together, and watch other people play together.
I did spend a some time with my Big this weekend, but even that time was MOSTLY spent not ageplaying. She and I do other stuff too (lots of things) and the small amount of ageplay we DID do was in private.
I'm REALLY glad I did this. I didn't feel that my ageplay-side was neglected. I was getting other needs met, connecting with my family, and learning a ton of new things.
So please remember - when you think of someone as being closely identified with one particular fetish, it doesn't mean they can't spend awhile doing other things. Many of us who are generally known for one fetish also have other interests, and may want to spend some time focused on those.
I reassured both of them - I'm FINE, there isn't a problem, and I appreciated the concern but I had reasons for doing other things this weekend.
This startled me though. I don't want to be known as "just an ageplayer" in exactly the same reasons some of my friends who do rope work don't want to be known as "just a rigger." Many kinksters have a wide range of interests, and may sometimes spend a whole weekend/event/month/relationship doing things OTHER than the kind of play that we are best known for.
For ME, I spent the weekend doing more classic BDSM play instead of ageplay because I attended the event with my boyfriend and my play partner (his wife) and neither of them are ageplayers. This was their first event, and we wanted to play together, learn together, and watch other people play together.
I did spend a some time with my Big this weekend, but even that time was MOSTLY spent not ageplaying. She and I do other stuff too (lots of things) and the small amount of ageplay we DID do was in private.
I'm REALLY glad I did this. I didn't feel that my ageplay-side was neglected. I was getting other needs met, connecting with my family, and learning a ton of new things.
So please remember - when you think of someone as being closely identified with one particular fetish, it doesn't mean they can't spend awhile doing other things. Many of us who are generally known for one fetish also have other interests, and may want to spend some time focused on those.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Respect Matters
Recently my dear friend SherynB wrote a post on FetLife titled "Assent Matters". Go read it.
The Consent Counts campaign from the NCSF is ACTUALLY about decriminalizing BDSM practices, but it has led to a lot of discussion about consent and abuse issues in kinky communities and relationships.
Discussing consent is a good thing, a necessary thing. Facing the VERY REAL issues of rape and abuse in a BDSM context is not happening in a constructive way in many places, and that is a problem. Too many people (with a wide range of kink interests and orientations) are being pressured into doing things they don't want to do, being outright forced, and being belittled for having limits. This MUST stop. And furthermore, the community must stop defending the perpetrators of these crimes.
At the same time, the idea that it is acceptable to consent/assent to an act and then change your mind LATER and claim it was non-consensual when there was no attempt to make this clear at the time is ALSO not acceptable. Every person in a scene, relationship, or play space has a responsibility for their own limits. They MUST voice them when appropriate. It is never okay to assume that anyone but ourselves can know what those limits are without being told.
I argue this: For both consent to count and assent to matter, respect must be at the core of all kinky and sexual interactions. We MUST respect our play partners and sexual partners enough to ask for clear consent. We MUST respect them enough that when we GIVE our consent we stick to it. We must respect those around us enough to communicate with open honesty, and to play within the bounds of that which has been communicated. To do otherwise is to treat those play partners as things, not as people.
We also must respect ourselves. I believe that a lot of the miss-communications about these issues come from deep shame about the things we do, the things we like, and the things that get us off. Respect for self means learning to be comfortable with our own desires.
Those who are not mature enough to respect fully those they play with and fuck are not adult enough to swim in the deep end. Get back in the kiddie pool.
The Consent Counts campaign from the NCSF is ACTUALLY about decriminalizing BDSM practices, but it has led to a lot of discussion about consent and abuse issues in kinky communities and relationships.
Discussing consent is a good thing, a necessary thing. Facing the VERY REAL issues of rape and abuse in a BDSM context is not happening in a constructive way in many places, and that is a problem. Too many people (with a wide range of kink interests and orientations) are being pressured into doing things they don't want to do, being outright forced, and being belittled for having limits. This MUST stop. And furthermore, the community must stop defending the perpetrators of these crimes.
At the same time, the idea that it is acceptable to consent/assent to an act and then change your mind LATER and claim it was non-consensual when there was no attempt to make this clear at the time is ALSO not acceptable. Every person in a scene, relationship, or play space has a responsibility for their own limits. They MUST voice them when appropriate. It is never okay to assume that anyone but ourselves can know what those limits are without being told.
I argue this: For both consent to count and assent to matter, respect must be at the core of all kinky and sexual interactions. We MUST respect our play partners and sexual partners enough to ask for clear consent. We MUST respect them enough that when we GIVE our consent we stick to it. We must respect those around us enough to communicate with open honesty, and to play within the bounds of that which has been communicated. To do otherwise is to treat those play partners as things, not as people.
We also must respect ourselves. I believe that a lot of the miss-communications about these issues come from deep shame about the things we do, the things we like, and the things that get us off. Respect for self means learning to be comfortable with our own desires.
Those who are not mature enough to respect fully those they play with and fuck are not adult enough to swim in the deep end. Get back in the kiddie pool.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Privilege and Invisible Minority
Those of you already steeped in the world of the skeptical or atheist blogs are probably already aware of Richard Dawkins' recent boneheaded inability to recognize his own (rich, white, male) privilege. If you're not already up to speed I recommend these links.
For the record, I agree completely with Rebecca, PZ, Dr. Plait, and many other smart people on this. Dawkins is wrong. But that's not the point of this blog post, because that perspective has been done to death already.
I have a strange relationship with male privilege. From the outside, from a perspective of someone who has met me within the last few years, I'm a straight white male. This is the persona I live in at work, at the grocery store, and even to some degree in the skeptical community. I LOOK that way outwardly. But in reality I'm anything but - I was born female, I grew up in a multi-racial family (but I am white), and I'm very much not straight.
So how do I react when something like the current situation happens in a community I care about and identify with? Honestly, my first impulse is as that of a sexual assault survivor. I am a sexual assault survivor. The details of those stories are not needed here, but suffice it to say that it is an important part of my history. After that my impulse is actually that of a woman - I lived as a girl long enough (19 years) to have a strong sense of how the world feels to women on a day to day basis. After that it is as a queer person (been out for 18 years now). Also, while my own genetic heritage is partly unknown, I do appear white. My siblings, however, are black. I was raised in a very multiracial family, and this impacts my view of the world enormously. Has your family ever had service refused to them in a restaurant? Mine has.
But I also know that when I go to work, the grocery store, and when I walk into a skeptics group am viewed as a straight white male. While I am not straight, and have worked hard to be viewed as male, and have lived in a multiracial family, no one can tell this by looking at me. I am acutely aware of this fact, and it makes me uncomfortable.
Also, the privilege of wealth? For me that one is the opposite of the others. I grew up wealthy (the house I was raised in has 7 bedrooms for a family of 5), but as an adult have been as poor as a person can be in the united states. I have been homeless, have used food pantries more than a few times, and spent the better part of a decade paying off medical bills.
All of this is here to say simply that I struggle a lot with ideas about privilege. I KNOW when I walk into a the bar of some random hotel that I won't accidentally end up in an uncomfortable situation where someone is hitting on me in the elevator afterward. I also know exactly how scary that situation is, because I have been in similar ones in the past.
I don't know how to resolve these issues exactly. But I do know that Rebecca Watson has, and deserves, my full support. And Dawkins is full of shit.
For the record, I agree completely with Rebecca, PZ, Dr. Plait, and many other smart people on this. Dawkins is wrong. But that's not the point of this blog post, because that perspective has been done to death already.
I have a strange relationship with male privilege. From the outside, from a perspective of someone who has met me within the last few years, I'm a straight white male. This is the persona I live in at work, at the grocery store, and even to some degree in the skeptical community. I LOOK that way outwardly. But in reality I'm anything but - I was born female, I grew up in a multi-racial family (but I am white), and I'm very much not straight.
So how do I react when something like the current situation happens in a community I care about and identify with? Honestly, my first impulse is as that of a sexual assault survivor. I am a sexual assault survivor. The details of those stories are not needed here, but suffice it to say that it is an important part of my history. After that my impulse is actually that of a woman - I lived as a girl long enough (19 years) to have a strong sense of how the world feels to women on a day to day basis. After that it is as a queer person (been out for 18 years now). Also, while my own genetic heritage is partly unknown, I do appear white. My siblings, however, are black. I was raised in a very multiracial family, and this impacts my view of the world enormously. Has your family ever had service refused to them in a restaurant? Mine has.
But I also know that when I go to work, the grocery store, and when I walk into a skeptics group am viewed as a straight white male. While I am not straight, and have worked hard to be viewed as male, and have lived in a multiracial family, no one can tell this by looking at me. I am acutely aware of this fact, and it makes me uncomfortable.
Also, the privilege of wealth? For me that one is the opposite of the others. I grew up wealthy (the house I was raised in has 7 bedrooms for a family of 5), but as an adult have been as poor as a person can be in the united states. I have been homeless, have used food pantries more than a few times, and spent the better part of a decade paying off medical bills.
All of this is here to say simply that I struggle a lot with ideas about privilege. I KNOW when I walk into a the bar of some random hotel that I won't accidentally end up in an uncomfortable situation where someone is hitting on me in the elevator afterward. I also know exactly how scary that situation is, because I have been in similar ones in the past.
I don't know how to resolve these issues exactly. But I do know that Rebecca Watson has, and deserves, my full support. And Dawkins is full of shit.
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