Trouble with a Capital “D”
During my college years it became a personal ritual at the beginning of each term to send a silent prayer to the gods that never listened in the hopes that somehow I would be able to fade into the woodwork and be just another student. Nothing fails like prayer and before long everyone knew my name and, in spite of my best attempts to look and act like others, they also knew that there was something A Little Bit Different about me. Still, none of us realized that I wasn’t merely marching to the tune of another drummer; I was marching to the unique tune of an entire percussion section.
After college, I managed to get myself critically folded, spindled, and mutilated during a short flight in what quickly became a crumpled VW Bug. Once I came back from the dead a few times, I decided that if I was going to get noticed, I was going to make it happen on my own terms. I embraced the Internet and its capacity for spreading my philosophical ravings about sexual exploration and emotional intimacy – and the Internet embraced me in return.
In June of 2001 the National Coalition for Sexual Freedom let me know that my viral marketing campaign had not gone unnoticed. Not only had I alerted the world to the presence of my many words, but those words were dangerous enough to land my plush ass in court if a certain calico cat phobic U.S. Attorney General had his way. We made plans to march down the Supreme Court aisle together, with me as the smiling face behind their free speech test case.
Ironically, the very danger inherent in my words and life made me a riskier plaintiff than they were ready to spin doctor, so we decided not to go all the way after all.
Breaking up is hard to do and silly me, I hadn’t realized we’d actually done it until the first night of the Ms. World Leather contest of August 2005 when the fact was brought abruptly to my attention during a less-than-pleasant confrontation in the contest hallway. And to think I once had a therapist confuse my polyamorous tendencies with a fear of commitment.
I’ve been dumped before so I know from experience that it just makes me more determined, more independent, more focused, and more efficient. If decades of being told to toe the line by my drill sergeant daddy, ever-virgin mother, and society-at-large didn’t shut me the fuck up, a temper tantrum in a hallway certainly doesn’t seem likely to do the job. The battle for and celebration of sexual freedom has many fronts and there are many stories to tell while exploring them. I plan on being there to see, feel, and tell.
In addition to the wonderful world of leather, there’s an awesome landscape of human sexuality yearning to breathe free. Non-monogamy in its many swing and poly permutations; monogamy in its controversial popularity; pornography gay, straight, bi, and otherwise; abstinence; celibacy; and solo sex – In my opinion it’s all about the right to choose and have the tools to understand and live with our choices.
These are the things that matter to me and, as I said during the Ms. World Leather contest, I’m willing to work with whomever is dedicated to liberty. In print (and with a full percussion section playing behind me) I’m proud to say that includes the Free Speech Coalition, the Woodhull Freedom Foundation, and a collection of amazing individuals.
— Originally published in Playtime Magazine —