Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Queer

I have issues with the term "queer". It's irrational, but knowing that my issues are irrational doesn't make them go away.

For those who don't know, this is one definition of "queer":
Queer is an umbrella term for sexual minorities[1] that are not heterosexual, heteronormative, or gender-binary.
The range of what "queer" includes varies. In addition to referring to LGBT-identifying people, it can also encompass: pansexual, pomosexual, intersexual, genderqueer, asexual and autosexual people, and even gender normative heterosexuals whose sexual orientations or activities place them outside the heterosexual-defined mainstream, e.g., BDSM practitioners, or polyamorous persons.
Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Queer

And looking at that definition, there should be no doubt that I'm queer. I get turned on by women and men both, and as such can't be concidered heterosexual. I'm heavily into BDSM. I concider myself at least partially to be polyamorous. There is no doubt that the definition of "queer" fits me like a glove.

My problem, therefore, lies not with the definition of "queer", but with the associations. And this is where irrationality comes in. You see, when I hear the word "queer", this is what I see in my mind:
A woman with very short hair, wearing men's clothing. Perhaps suspenders. Perhaps also a tie, or maybe a palestine-checkered scarf. One who's entire look screams "lesbian" and "political". One who gets all worked up if someone talks of men and woman as a dichotomy, despite this dichotomy being the foundation upon which our entire society and culture is built. (I'm not saying that's a good thing, nor am I saying it's bad to try to change it. I'm just saying that if you're going to get mad every single time, you will spend most of the day, every day, being mad.) I see someone with a long of anger and righteous indignation. One who's burns for a topic and wants to change the world. One who's read too many books written for (and about) so-called queer people (meaning homosexuals, mainly) and who knows too many theories. One who demands that you care about this as much as her, because it's important. One who keeps saying that the fight for equal rights is far from over.

I could go on and on, but you get the idea. I'm not saying that this woman is bad, or wrong. I think it's great that someone wants to stand on the barricades and fight the fight, so that most of us don't have to. She's like a suffragette, or like a woman burning her bra in the 70ies. She's an icon. She's fighting the good fight......... She just isn't me.

I don't fight. I'm not political. It's not that I don't care or that I don't see the inequality. I just have other things that engage me more, and am selfish enough to mainly think about myself. And MY life isn't so bad. I'm engaged to be married with a loving, wonderful man. When I fuck, it's 90% of the time with men. When I fantasize, it's also 90% of the time about men. When I do BDSM-related stuff, it's 75% of the time with men, and anything heavy that actually involves a lot of emotions and real committeemen is 100% with men. I have a BDSM plaything (Corvus), who's also a man (mostly). On the Kinsey Scale (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kinsey_scale), I'm probably a 2. I don't know much about that scale, but I'm certainly no higher than 2. Perhaps even a 1.

You see how this clashes in my mind. The definition of "queer" and my image of who and what "queer" is, just doesn't match. And so my mind creates these ideas of what other queer people think. Because I'm to such a large degree heterosexual that I've even stopped calling myself bisexual these days. Heteroflexible is a better term. If I were to go to an event for queer people, I imagine that they wouldn't accept me. Because I'm not queer enough. Not "hardcore" enough. That I would have a neon sign attached to my forehead that screamed "fake".

I realize, as I'm writing this, that these objections are eerily similar to those I had when I was fresh in the BDSM scene. I was certain that the more serious, "hardcore" players would reject me. That I didn't measure up, wasn't good enough (for more on this topic, see this entry). Perhaps this has truly nothing to do with being or not being queer. Perhaps it's just my fear of the unknown. My fear of a new social arena, my fear of rejection. I don't know. This requires more thinking... I think.

I miss T

T has been away for a long time now. So long, it feels like forever. It isn't. It's just over a week, I think, though I've lost count. Thing is, before going on holiday, he was at a LARP. And before that, there was a game con. So we haven't had more than a few days together at home and in relative peace for what feels like a month. It's not a month, not even near, but it feels that way.

Not to go completely bonkers, I have Corvus here with me. He sleeps in our bed, he sits in our couch, he eats my food. But he isn't T. I miss how T smells. How he breathes. How he talks. His humor. His smiles. His hugs. The way the thick coat of hair on his chest curls, and is just long enough for me to get a good handful if I grab it.

I haven't really missed him that much earlier, and even now this longing isn't any sort of unbearable pain or anything that melodramatic. It just feels as though I'm incomplete. Like he took a part of me with him. It doesn't hurt me, but it's definitely missing. And I long to be complete once more.

In the meantime, I'm having a very good time here with Corvus. He's in better shape, mentally, than he's been in a long time. Having someone around that makes sure he eats and gets up in the morning probably helps with the loneliness and feeling of despair. And so I worry what will happen when T comes back and Corvus goes back home, alone once more. For now, all I can do is build him up as best as I can. Make sure he rests and recuperates. He's taken a week off work, and I think that does him good.

We play frequently. Never for long at a time and rarely anything deep and serious... But he's always mine. Even when we're equals. Even when he's the boss, teaching me how to drive a car for the first time. Even then, we both know deep down that he's mine. He wears the collar to which only I have the key. He wears the chastity device, a steel cage, to which I'm also the only one with a key. He's got spare keys to both, but they are sealed off. Only to use in an emergency. His cock is mine, just like all of him is mine. And we both enjoy that tremendously.

He's recently started experimenting with a wand. That is, a small, hollow steel rod worn inside the urethra. With it inserted, the chastity cage becomes 100% escape proof. I'm fascinated by it, a bit appalled by it and I know (just like with the chastity cage) that my sense of disgust will probably pass once the idea has grown on me. Then there will only be the fascination left, and before I know it I will become turned on by that too. It's strange how our desires grow and change over time. Gone are the days when all I did was push his limits to suit my own, now we are pushing each other. I wonder what will be next..

Saturday, July 9, 2011

Naked in the woods: An exhibitionist's dream

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.