I'm on the go a lot. I've always got a hundred things on my mind to do, always have things I'm busy with. It can wear me out. Tonight, I decided to just put on my pajamas, and go to bed.
It was a good choice.
In my interactions with other age players I sometimes run across folks who get really agitated at the idea that being little is a kink or fetish. They protest that that somehow taints or cheapens their existence.
They protest loudly that unlike sexual ageplayers, this isn't something they DO, instead it's how they ARE, a function of their being.
Consequently, these protestations have a way of making people who read them REALLY ANGRY. Heck, I've been one of the people irritated by these "do-bees."
I got to thinking about this recently. Just what is it that makes this posture so aggravating?
I think it's several, separate things:
1) There's a sort of presumptuousness in the evaluation, "I *am* this, unlike you, who *do* this."
Statements like this say that the speaker knows and understands the other person to a level of intimacy that's frankly impossible, or at least patently offensive. "You who do this, do it for these reasons, in these ways."
It's a bit like someone bursting into your home, to judge how you have decorated it, and tell you why you chose what you did. It's rude to even attempt to do so, and a valueless proposition at best.
Unwittingly, they turn a statement meant to be about themselves, into a statement about ME. No thanks.
2) It encourages a needless, and reductive tribalism. "So are you one of my people, or the other kind?"
First, people are immensely complex. Plus, we evolve over time.
My wife, for example, never tried sushi before we were together. It's still not her favorite thing. But, at my request, she has tried it and even found a few things she really likes. Now if we happen to go to a place that ONLY has sushi, she knows she can eat something.
Having said that, she still vastly prefers almost anything to sushi. But that's up to her to define, not me or anyone else.
It's not that my wife ISN'T a sushi person, and I AM, so we cannot peaceably coexist. We're each responsible for who and what we are and how we co-exist.
We CAN go get sushi, or just as easily go do something we like equally. She loves Peruvian chicken, so I'm happy to go eat that with her sometimes too.
Tribal binaries imply that's not possible. Either you're A or B, period. All A's are alike, as are all B's. Forever.
The truth is, I'm NOT a sexual ageplayer vs a nonsexual one. I reject the very binary. I'm myself.
Some of what I do is very sexual. Some isn't. Even those things change situationally. A spanking can be foreplay, outright sex, punishment, or even just cathartic release for me.
Being told I'm part of a faction I don't even acknowledge exists drives me crazy. The message it drives home to me is that the other person saying it has reduced me to a stereotype.
It's somewhat like saying all Italian people have the same complexion, or that people from New Jersey are all fast talkers with a grating accent.
I find it grating to be stereotyped, and even for people to stereotype themselves. It sort of gives a big giant middle finger to the possibility that people can, and often do, change over time.
3) It stinks of privilege.
When someone says they ARE something versus that they DO something, they also imply that in order to interact with them, YOU are required to know about it, and to act accordingly.
"Here are the rules that keep me happy, and from being offended. Please study them, so that you don't cause me any trouble."
Yuck.
There's a certain social contract in place between adults members of society. We agree to give each other respect in our shared spaces. We cross at crosswalks. We wait in lines. Generally we don't talk during movies at the cinema. We know to chew with our mouths closed.
There's a kind of humility to it. "I, who am no less nor more than you, will do what is needed to coexist with you, peacefully."
But these other folks, the ones who ARE something, instead of DO something, perhaps send a different message. "You must interact with me in this way I say I am."
To be fair, they're welcome to do so. But I'm just as welcome then to choose not to interact with them.
Now to be fair, this isn't a simple binary. Remember, I'm not a fan of them, right?
I know some folks who consider their kink identity a significant part of their identity in general. I have this one friend, who's a brilliant professor, a gifted writer, and is also the slave of another woman. She eats, speaks, sleeps, and generally acts the way her owner tells her to.
I see this friend fairly often. We're good friends. We move in the same circles. The fact that she's owned by her owner is never something that's shoved in my face. I'm not told that I'm weird for not being owned by someone. The particular conditions of her identity which require her to act mindfully about it never get in my way. She might not have ice cream when we get lunch together, and maybe will say she isn't allowed. Sometimes we discuss my writing, which can be spectacularly filthy. In the context of saying that a particular phrase or word works well, or could be better, she will use language she's not otherwise allowed to use. It can make for some funny, blush-worthy situations.
My friend LIVES what she DOES. But I'll have to ask her if she thinks that it IS what she is, and how that compares.
Having said all this, is this little essay of mine a rant? Am I asking the do-bees to do differently? No, that's not my purpose at all. I just think it's fascinating to contemplate why that position is so inciting of anger, and response. I've recently had a run in with a particularly passionate "do-bee", and it left me wondering how I might deal with those sorts of situations in the future. I think my best option is to respectfully, firmly, and compassionately state my disagreement, and my desire to not continue any sort of debate about it.
It's my birthday today.
I had the nicest text exchange with my mom just now.
If I am, in fact as wonderful as she thinks I am (granted she's highly biased), it's due in large part to her.
My mom is a sweet, funny, gentle, kind, and quirky person who has always just been herself, authentically.
She raised me with those same values. I place high value in being gentle, kind, open, and adventuresome because she taught me to.
I'm grateful she made me, and even more grateful she made me the way I am.
Swam this morning, up to 9.5 miles worth of exercise for the year. Gonna have to pick up the pace a bit to catch back up!
Power exchange, and dominance and submission are enormously important things in my life, and have been for a long time. But they've also been thorny and problematic for me. I get both emotional satisfaction and (sometimes, but not always) sexual gratification from them. I remember when I was a kid, and first stumbled across spanking in a dirty magazine of my father's. I felt this confusing, heady mix of feelings about the subject.
From the outside, this might seem sort of silly. How hard is it to understand a spanking fetish, really?
- Get your pants pulled down, and your bottom bared.
- Receive many stinging slaps to your naked backside.
- ????
- PROFIT!!!
All joking (and internet memes) aside, it is complicated.
I have struggled for many years to find such interactions with others, and to be fully present for them. As my interest in this stuff developed, I began having this endlessly scripted inner monologue, so many fantasies over what would happen, what my caregiver/dominant would say and do to me and for me. I had a bad case of what Avatar fans would know as "destination fever."
It can make those interactions artificial, and fairly unfulfilling.
Over the years I've come to learn that there's another way. You can treat these experiences organically. Allow them to happen as they will, without trying to dictate who or what you or your partner(s) should be. When I "go organic" with this stuff, I submit authentically to my wife/partner/best friend/mommy/dominant Missy. I let her authentically be in charge.
I'll tell you - organic fruits and vegetables are generally just way better than their non-organic counterparts. They taste fresher, better, and more bold. Organic experiences, especially in d/s are that way too, in my experience.
That was driven home to me big time over the past day or so.
Sunday was a quiet day at home, after a weekend filled with busy activity.
Missy had put me to bed diapered the night before. I woke up in a fuss, wet, wanting out of my diaper before I had to do more in it than maybe I wanted to. That didn't work out for me, and after a shower, I came to her in bed, nuzzling her and looking for guidance.
She asked me why don't I put on a pull-up. I was little, and having trouble processing being asked versus being told what to do, and got kind of upset. I actually ended up biting her a bit. (I know, it's terrible behavior.) She didn't scold me though, she understood I was upset, and confused, and after talking it out with me, told me to go put one on.
I did, and felt much better. Not too much later though, I wound up having an accident in it, and wetting my pants. She sighed, and took care of me, putting me in diapers for the rest of the day.
Well, that was her plan, anyhow.
After several hours of lounging about the house together, she decided we should go out and do some grocery shopping and told me to go put on some pants, so we could go out.
I was little, and not really thinking about what I was doing, and decided that meant I could make the choice to take off my own diaper, and put on underpants, as well as jeans.
Turns out that was not the case. She got very put out with me, scolded me, and put me right back in diapers. Then, we had to stay in, because it was just too late to go out. I knew I had disappointed her, and misbehaved, and felt crushed.
She comforted me though. And she didn't spank me for it. Not until later, when, just before bed I told her I still felt really bad about what I had done, and asked her to spank me. She did then, and explained to me what I should have done, how I could have asked if she wanted me to wear underpants to go out to the store. (Which, she made crystal clear, she did not want.)
I had all night to think about what she said. This morning, we talked about it just a little bit more. I asked her to get me out of my overnight diaper, which she did. We had some lovely personal time I won't get into detail over, and both felt very connected, and together. It was lovely, and authentic, and organic.
Before she left for the day, she set up our little space heater in the bathroom, to warm the tiles for me, so I wouldn't be cold as I got showered and ready.
Really, it's a kind of caregiving - a subtle little way she expresses love (and control) of me and for me. She looks out for me. I love her for it.
Having these needs in my life are complicated to understand, complicated to experience, complicated to share with a partner, too.
I have so much gratitude for the way Missy and I are sharing these organic experiences. They're so fulfilling.
It's funny - I wanted to make sure that sharing this level of detail and intimacy was okay with her, so I texted her even as I was writing this. Without my even meaning for it to do so, it became yet another organic d/s experience.
I'm not sure that's possible. I love her so much. But you know what - I'll let her be the boss about it.