Dialogue
Yesterday I had a really good conversation about wants / desires / needs for a relationship. It was somewhat (largely) unexpected, and “hypothetical” in nature, but it gave me the opportunity to say, in person, to a someone who actually lives nearby and who I find exceedingly physically and emotionally attractive, what I want out of a relationship which would involve kink. Some parts were easy, some parts were difficult. We both shared parts of our lives which left us vulnerable. I was pleased with my ability to voice where I am and what I want. I was open and honest about what I need, without feeling I had to accommodate anything he said. This was aided by his explicit statement that he was not expecting my answers to match his.
In the context of my chat with Ryan, it was helpful for me to have to say out loud how much D/s I want outside the bedroom, although looking back I don’t know how clear I was about it with myself or with him. At one point I said that, not having had an actual relationship where kink was the primary expression of sexuality, it’d be hard for me to know if in-bed would be enough or if I’d still want more D/s interaction out of bed. When I write here, and chat with Dom friends online, that part of me comes out fairly strongly. I don’t know if a little will go a long way, or if perhaps it wouldn’t go long enough. Surely when I re-read previous posts I see this is a major theme. All that said, it would be foolish at this very early stage to be overly worried without first having tried things out.
We talked about what would it mean to have a space built into the relationship to play with other people. This seems terrifying on the surface. At a stage when I’m so excited about knowing him, it was difficult to have a conversation with him about sharing him with other men. Then there’s a part of me which feels insecure, which says “I want to be enough for you.” And yet once poked a bit having an open relationship offers some interesting options. I think it honestly acknowledges the reality of male sexuality and human psychology. If done right it would be a safety valve which completely monogamous relationships do not have. One option we talked about was having kink be the play space but keeping vanilla sex in the relationship. One of the things I like about having this kind of discussion is the amount of creativity it allows in defining a relationship. Our society does not give us much of an opportunity to do this. It feels very new, like I’m going about it in a rather blind manner. Again, it seems foolish to worry too much about something which I haven’t tried yet. Fair enough, I say.
I will say it does feel kind of strange having this kind of foundational conversation so early in getting to know someone. But since in large part (on my side anyway) this is creating something new as it goes along, there are no road signs to look at and not many model relationships to emulate. Since there are no rules to follow and it would be almost dangerous to make assumptions in this kind of uncharted territory, we have to make things clear very early. And, in that regard, it feels good that we can have an open discussion so early in knowing one another.
Aside from the pleasure of voicing these things to an in-person guy with whom I have been out on previous dates and with whom there is mutual interest, most exciting to me was the palpable sense of possibility. Me? In a relationship with a hot Dom guy? With an emotionally mature, secure, affirming relationship at the middle? What an amazing hypothetical opportunity.
Accommodation
I remain, to this day, afraid of waking people up. I am afraid of waking people up when they have explicitly asked me to wake them up. I am afraid of waking them up by calling too early in the morning. I am afraid of waking people up by calling too late at night. I am afraid of waking people up by running the dishwasher too late at night. I am, as I said, afraid of waking people up.
This fear comes from the fact that my father was notoriously grouchy when he first woke up. As a child I would do whatever I could to avoid waking up my father. Even once he was awake, drinking coffee or eating breakfast, he was still very grouchy. I learned from an early age to be very quiet in the mornings, to try to be out of sight when he first woke up, to give him as much time as he needed to wake up before asking for anything. Chances exponentially increased that he would say ‘yes’ to a request the longer he was awake.
Aside from the fact that it’s father’s day weekend (happy father’s day, Dad!), I’m writing this because in my own spiritual and psychological growth it has lately come to my attention how much time I spend accommodating people. I am the oldest child in my family. Along with that birth order I inherited a great desire to please people, to make sure “everyone is happy.” Like George McFly, I cannot stand confrontation. A polite way of saying this is that I am ‘diplomatic,’ and in many situations this has served and continues to serve me well. But as I pay attention to how much emotional energy and time I devote to accommodating people, even in my head, I am kind of shocked.
Case in point: I am staying with a friend for the summer. This evening she was about to go for a run as I called my mother for our weekly Sunday chat. My friend was about to go for a run and, as I started my phone conversation, I waited for her to leave before I wandered out into the living room to have my phone call. I was afraid that my call, my chat with my mother, would somehow disrupt my friend as she prepared to go out for a run. I did not want to be in the way. I did not want to inconvenience my friend as she put on her running shoes. These were actual thoughts which went through my head. The thought that went through my head when I realized what I was thinking was, in fact, ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?
Another case-in-point: my sexual and relationship fantasies are often full of me making excuses to a boyfriend, real or imaginary, about what I want. In my head I make excuses for imagining saying I’m interested in someone. I my head I make excuses for imagining what I’d like to do sexually with a boyfriend, real or imaginary. In short, even in my own private fantasy life, I spend a copious amount of energy accommodating.
It is Pride here this weekend and the past two nights I went out dancing. On Friday I met a very cute boy who was very drunk. We danced and made out and had a great time, and agreed we’d meet up at the dance on Saturday. Saturday night he was, again, wasted. One of the first things he said to me was: “I’ve been dying to ask you this – top or bottom?” You’d think that this is an easy question to answer but, for me, it is not. I have struggled with my identity not only as being submissive but also as being a bottom. A very good friend, someone a bit older, said to me once when I was young and impressionable (i.e. in college) that he thought there was no such thing as ‘top’ and ‘bottom’ and that most people are probably somewhere in the middle. This man is bisexual and so it makes sense that he would say that. I, however, took it to heart, and have felt an aversion to identifying as one or the other. I have also, I think, taken it as an opportunity to avoid the fact that I really am a bottom. So my standard answer to this question, top or bottom, is that I say ‘vers, depending on who I am with.’ This is true to an extent, but much less so than it used to be. And it is a classic example of me accommodating someone else.
Last night I went out on a limb and said ‘bottom,’ because that’s what I was feeling. I had a knot in my stomach as I said it because, well, I want to accommodate people. I wanted him to be into me. I wanted to accommodate this extremely beautiful guy. But I also know from recent experience that me topping does not go well, and that I should stick to those things I do well. After I said ‘bottom’ I waited a second and then said ‘so, was that the right answer?’ (which completely points toward my desire to please people) and he said with a grin ‘perfect!’ and then kissed me. I then felt a huge sigh of relief wash over my body.
What does me being sexually submissive have to do with me being accommodating? Isn’t it the point of offering service to be accommodating? As a sub shouldn’t I defer to my Dom? And does my desire to please and accommodate tie in directly with my sexual responses to men? My earliest budding sexual desires always had bondage or some sort of D/s interaction in them – and by earliest I mean 9 years old. My submissive feelings are very rooted and very deep. But I wonder, which came first, my desire to please or the submissive expression of my sexuality? Did they emerge together? In that my sexuality is just one expression of my whole personality, and definitely reflects who I am as a whole person, it makes sense that I am a bottom and submissive. (This is the first time I’ve made this connection.)
In a way it doesn’t make a difference. I’m not going to try to change my sexuality even as I try to spend less time accommodating people. I am discovering how much happier I am, and how much more emotional energy I have available, when I am not spending time in my head coming up with ways to accommodate situations and instead being happy just to be me. Just to say to myself ‘it’s okay to be a bottom’ and not have to worry about how that’s going to affect someone else, that’s a really big deal for me. Just to say to myself ‘it’s okay to be submissive’ and not worry that I will never find the right Dom guy, that’s huge for me. And to say to myself ‘it’s okay to make a phone call in the living room’ and not worry about somehow offending my friend… that, also, is huge for me.
The next step, of course, is finding a relationship which allows me to be these things. A relationship in which I don’t have to worry about who is going to top or bottom, in which I don’t have to make apologies for my submissive sexuality – that is a relationship to which I could bring my whole self. How great will it be when I know I can fully throw myself at someone because I am not worried he’s going to want me to fuck him? I have never been able to bring myself to be fully present and sexually open to either myself or someone else. I am really, really looking forward to that.
More on Insecurity and Shame
Tonight I was out with a group of my friends at a new “Jazz” bar in town. I use the word loosely because the place is advertised as a “Jazz” club but the music tonight was definitely bluesy-shuffle music. That’s fine… just be warned that if you advertize as a “Jazz” club and then don’t put out, you will be ridiculed by the Jazz heads in the vicinity. I will say that the whiskey sours were *excellent* and that makes up for a lot. The company was excellent as well, it was a good chance to be around old friends and enjoy myself.
Only, to a moderate extent, I was not able to enjoy myself. As I continue on this journey and get to know myself more (something, at 32, I find exciting, unexpected, and surprising) I see all this insecurity I have which remains hidden in plain sight. I was out with friends who are, to a man, all attractive, intelligent, funny, witty, and a huge pleasure to be around. And while they are my friends, I noticed how insecure I am around them. I felt, with no uncertainty, I was not smart enough, not funny enough, and not attractive enough to hang out with them. I felt like they must be humoring me. I felt that I was the odd one out, that even though I am a part of the group I’m not *really* part of the group. Of course the only person telling me this stuff is me.
At one point I was talking with my friend E who I have known since I was fifteen and who I dated for three years while I was in college. I noticed how I was feeling and instead of allowing the insecurity to run rampant I tried to let go, to feel like I was worthy to be hanging around with these guys. I reminded myself it’s okay to feel what I feel, that it’s okay to be a bottom, it’s okay to be submissive, and that doesn’t make me any less than these other guys. And what I got back in return surprised me. For a moment I distinctly felt that I was my honest, authentic self. And in that moment I realized again, like when I was at X-Men the other night, how much time I spend trying to hide myself from myself and other people. This from someone who thought he was pretty in touch with his emotions.
In general I never talk about my sex life, or desires, with anyone – even close friends during conversations about sex. Excuses I use are things like “I don’t talk about sex, I’m a repressed guy from New England.” That’s true, I am a repressed guy from New England. But that’s not the real reason I don’t talk about sex as much as other friends of mine. I don’t talk about sex because I am embarrassed about what I want, and think that people will think less of me for saying what I want or to whom I’m attracted or that the smell of leather gets me hard. The excuses aren’t for other people, they are for me. And in the moment of clarity when I was able to put down the excuses… I felt sexy in a way that I rarely do. I felt confident in a way I rarely do among a group of gay peers. It is a rule that I never feel confident in a group of gay men, and I noticed this very clearly tonight.
This is all to say that repression and denial and feelings of shame and being unworthy run deep. I knew all this stuff was here, but not how to deal with it. I have know men who died both emotionally and then physically from internalized homophobia. I hope not to be one of those men.
Keys on the Right
This is a hard post to write. I tried writing it last night, and ended up rambling about Personal Narrative Time. This is one of those posts.
I had a major revelation yesterday, which was I think some months (years? a decade?) in coming. It came from a few places. First, I saw the X-Men movie last night and it was very good. At one point Mystique, looking like a real person and not in her blue-form, is lifting weights and Magneto points out to her that she cannot fully concentrate on something if half her energy is spent trying to be someone she is not. Second, a few months ago I attended a church service where the sermon was about shame, and I’ve been thinking a lot about shame lately. Third, I’m on vacation from school and thinking a lot about this past year and how I’ve grown. This has all led me to a few (probably obvious) conclusions which, none the less, are important.
First – while I have both sub and dom feelings, I am ashamed of my submissive feelings. I try to push them away. I wrote a few months ago about how I perceive thoughts and feelings arise. Rather than just letting my submissive feelings arise and dealing with them, I attach shame to them and try to make them go away. I make them something into more than they are.
Second – ever since I became sexually active I have felt confused about being a top or bottom. Depending on the situation I like both, but I gravitate toward bottom. But, like my submissive feelings, I feel shame around this. Even in gay culture there is stigma about being a bottom. You cannot erase two thousand years of cultural baggage just by repealing the sodomy laws.
Third – even though submission turns me on, even though I like to bottom – I’ve never felt that I fit the mold of what a bottom, sub boy should be. A bottom should be shorter than his top. A bottom should be cutesy and carefree and happy-go-lucky. I am fairly tall. I may be cute but am not ‘cutesy,’ and don’t feel particularly carefree or happy-go-lucky. I don’t feel I fit into the mold of ‘bottom’. Just like many people (queer and not queer) assume I am straight, many gay guys assume I am a top from my mannerisms.
So the combination of shame about submissive feelings, shame about liking to bottom, and feeling that I am inadequate to perform the role of submissive or bottom is… difficult. Yesterday it occurred to me how much energy I expend trying to be something I’m not. What’s most frustrating, it makes it impossible to pursue emotionally honest relationships.
After the movie last night I was talking on the phone with a guy who I’ve been out with on seven or eight dates. I like him a lot. He appeals to the dominant / top side of me, which is genuinely there. But while talking on the phone with him I felt that I could not be honest and up front about my own feelings, of wanting to own by bottom-ness and sub-ness. So while I’d very much like to get to know him more, I don’t know how to get to know him more and be genuine.
Last night when I got home from work, pre-movie, I’d decided to experiment with my keys. I have a key chain I can attach to my belt-loop, and I decided to try again wearing my keys on a belt loop instead of in my pocket. This usually lasts for about two minutes because I have too many keys which jingle and jangle very loudly. Last night, however, I realized I could wear my keys on my belt loop and tuck them into my back pocket. Problem solved. I can wear my keys on the loop and not have them dangle. So today (and last night, actually) I wore my keys on the right. Not that this really means much any more, although I do see guys around the City wearing keys on various sides, so I still think it’s a practice. I’ll see if I want to continue doing that, but it felt good. It felt like I was taking a small step toward owning the feelings of sub-ness and bottom-ness. A small step which, I hope, will lead to bigger steps, with the goal of being able to integrate these things into my life.
Personal Narrative Apologetics
Blogging is so popular in large part because it invites us to talk about ourselves. It feeds our egos. As a rule I try to avoid that syndrome, but sometimes it isn’t possible to do so. I find the “dear diary” posts are the most important ones for me, personally, to write. My guess is, however, they are the most uninteresting to read. Personal Narrative Time (PNT) does not usually make for scintillating reading, so I try to keep it to a minimum. One of my goals in writing here is to figure out how to do that in a way which reaches out and makes connections. In an effort to bridge the gap, I’m adding a category called PNT. I hope that PNT writing may be interesting to some, but is easily avoidable to others who do not wish to read my therapeutic drivel.
Ah, meta-posting. Possibly less interesting than PNT.
