poeticdesires

Category: Documentary

  • Influence

    You’re the reason why we’re here.

    I knew, when I participated in the documentary, that it had the potential to reach people. I had hoped it would. I suspected not many people would see it, but I thought if at least some people viewed it, it would be a good start at acceptance from the wider world. That’s really all I expected, a good start.

    Leading up to the premiere, I was nervous. How much would the episode show of what was filmed? How would the kink community accept the work Gray and I had done? How would the viewing audience perceive the interactions between Gray and myself? Would they get it? Of course they were going to judge us (because that is what people do), but would their conclusions be a fair assessment of what was shown?

    As the evening grew near, I was eased at times by the random messages I got from friends who had, to my utter shock, seen the commercials for the show. In my mind, I never thought about that part. Who, among my friend groups, watches that network? Apparently quite a few people.

    And not just people in the kink community. One coworker, female and a mother, happened to mention it one day while we were at work. She was excited for me (You’re going to be on television!), even as my nerves grew.

    As the show aired, I was pleased when multiple friends sent their love via Twitter. The show was a hit.

    Afterwards more messages came in through FetLife. Messages from people I’d never met but had somehow found me anyway. Everyone was thankful for the way Gray and I portrayed kink to a main stream audience. Everyone was complimentary. Nothing negative ever spoken.

    And then came Winter Fire.

    I suspected going in, since the event was to occur close to the premiere, that I would get noticed. I made a joke of it, deciding that my badge line would be, “Yup, that was me.”

    And, sure enough, multiple times a day during the event someone came up to me, whether an old friend or an unfamiliar attendee, and thanked me for my participation in the show.

    And then there was this one woman. I don’t remember what day of the event it was, but I think it was Saturday, just before dinner. I was on the Mezzanine, chatting with a friend, when she came up to me.

    “Hi. I just wanted to thank you for your participation in the show. And I wanted to let you know you’re the reason why my husband and I are here. We Google-d kink, and found this event, and here we are, so thank you.”

    I was flabbergasted.

    I had hoped being on the show would make a difference. I had hoped it would help some people open up their minds about kink, maybe come closer to the understanding that it is just a variant of sexuality and not something to be demonized. I had hoped that maybe others, those who were curious, those who didn’t know there is a safe space for them, would find their way to the community.

    And there, standing in front of me, was all I had hoped for.

    The cherry on top: the couple was black. More persons of color, more diversity in the community, just because I talked in front of a camera and spent time with a friend.

    I had no idea what I did for a few days last year would have such a profound influence on others. It is awe inspiring and humbling. I could not be happier for the small impact I made.

  • Driving the Lamborghini

    I had a reality check from a friend recently. As some of you may or may not know, I was featured in a documentary. Due to the wackiness that is my current life at times, I still have not seen it, even though it aired over a week ago and has already had a repeat showing.

    But me seeing the show is not the point of this entry.

    The point is how my friend, who did see the show, reacted to my section in it. They were proud of me, of how I held myself in the interview section, of how poised and eloquent I was in answering some tough questions surrounding kink, race, and feminism.

    Not only did they greatly enjoy the time I was featured in the documentary, others who I also respect gave me praise via Twitter. The night the show aired, even though I was getting pretty sick, I still felt pretty awesome.

    But here comes the rub.

    In my friend’s email, they praised me, but they also chided me. In their opinion, my current life was the equivalent of a person driving a Lamborghini to the grocery store and back, fearful that they’d get into an accident if they really took their vehicle out for a ride.

    My friend feels I am not pushing myself to do better, be better, in my chosen profession. They rightly pointed out my level of intelligence far exceeds the needs of my current field.

    I am, often, the most intelligent person in my group of work colleagues. I didn’t really take note of it before, didn’t really care unless someone was being ridiculously ignorant because, for me, all that mattered was getting the job done quickly and efficiently and going the fuck home.

    But there have been times when it has stuck out like a sore thumb, needling me in the back of my mind. Why am I doing this? Why am I here? Yes, I do this for the money, but I could be, shouldn’t I be, doing something else? Something more challenging? Something more profound?

    Ever since my friend challenged me to think beyond my current circumstance, to envision a more challenging life, a harder life, but a more fulfilling life, I haven’t been able to keep my mind from tumbling.

    The problem I’m currently faced with, the issue that really keeps my brain working, is the what. What should I do? What do I want to do? What can I become? What do I want to become? What?

    Some ideas that have floated in my whirlpool of neurons seem so daunting.

    I could become a doctor. Like my father. But not like my father. I’d want to be an abortionist. I’d want to help women, to do the hardest thing possible because it seems very few others are willing.

    But that’s ten to fifteen years of my life. And that’s a highly uncertain future. And so much money and time.

    And what if it isn’t what would make me happy? What if doesn’t give me a fulfilling life? What if it is just a dream from a feminist who sees the horrors of misogyny and religious views being thrust down women’s throats, and it is the hope of stopping the outrageous rather than the life I actually want that captures my possibility? What if it is just a strong woman’s fantasy and not an actual reality I want to come true?

    There is the baby step towards medicine: becoming an EMT. Schooling, but less than a full medical degree (and internship and residency). And I would be helping people. But again, is this a career that I want for my life or a half measure to make me feel like I am making a difference without investing all-in?

    Then there is the love I have had since childhood: writing. Being a professional, working, paid author of books. Erotica, yes. But thrillers. And horror. And fantasy. Taking all the stories bandying about in my head, putting them to print, and having the world revel in my imaginings. There are plays and screenplays. Poetry and short stories. And, of course, this blog.

    No matter what, money or not, I will write. But if I could somehow parlay that passion to an actual vehicle for my existence, that would be the best gift I have ever given myself.

    Also, though, having experienced the work of putting myself out there, allowing my views and opinions on heady subjects about our community to be broadcast on television, there is this other thought quietly murmuring too.

    What if I became another leader in our community? What if I put in the effort to create presentations and gave them at events? What if I wrote more of my opinions and thoughts on this blog? What if I opened myself up to be another leader, another personality, an avenue for people to find and learn about kink? What if I committed more of myself to this part of my life I adore and wish for others to find?

    And the last thought, the scariest thought of all, is the one I’ve held back since… forever.

    I love to act. Love to act. But I always thought opening myself up, baring my soul on stage or screen, would be the scariest thing I could do. And the most thrilling. And challenging. And exciting. And, quite possibly, were I to pursue this avenue as my work, as my life, the hardest thing I’ve ever done. It’s the one idea that brings tears to my eyes, the one thought that makes me tremble. And I have no idea where to start.

    So now, however many words later, I’m still not sure what I will do with my life. I don’t know how much longer I will be in my business, though it feels like my days as a tech are numbered, as I’m checking other things like the VT markets for investment and more.

    I do know I will still write, paycheck or not.

    I know I have to do some research on my options, for medical school or EMT training (maybe), and remind myself that research does not equal commitment, and I can always change my mind. And I really need to ask myself why this thought even comes to mind. Is it what I want, a dream for my future, or a fantasy of a world we do not live in?

    And I need to keep talking, to my friends, to those in my community, and realize that every kinky person is a representative, known or not, for the kink world, whether they help people find their first event or just ease the nervous temperament of a newbie they happen to meet.

    And maybe, just maybe, scary is good. Maybe I should go for the thing that scares me most. Maybe that is the answer.

    Beyond these words, I guess both you and I, dear reader, will just have to wait and see.

    But, since you’re here, dear friends, do you have any suggestions?

  • Drop the Apparently

    “So, what does that tell you?” – Doc
    “That apparently people value my thoughts and opinions more than I do.” – me
    “Drop the apparently.”

     


    ~

     
    In regards to the PS, we’re going to get a little snooty here.

    I’ve worked shows before, especially lighting. There’s some good people there. There’s some smart people there. But they are not, on the whole, a terribly challenging group intellectually. There is the occasional individual – such as yourself – who is the exception. But I’m pretty sure that in any group you’re around at work, you’re the most intelligent person there.

    That’s a comfortable place to be. You don’t have to worry about being pushed out of your comfort zone, you don’t have to worry about not being the smartest.

    You also don’t learn much in that environment. You know how to learn to play chess, right? You don’t play people who are worse than you and always win. You play people who are better than you and lose and lose and lose until eventually you don’t lose quite so much.

    But you still lose, and you grow, because people are smarter than you.

    I’ve noticed, at events, you seek out the bright stars. The philosophers, the people who seem to have something to say. You find them and you have a great time with them and usually you do it in some of the most beautiful service and submissive ways I’ve ever seen. I think you think you’re lucky to be able to hang with them.

    I think you’re wrong. I think it’s the other way around.

    I watched those people in that room as you were on TV. People who were veteran kinksters, who dealt with the public on a regular basis, whose investment in kink was their whole lives and tens if not hundreds of thousands of dollars.

    When you spoke, there were quiet nods. There were murmurs of approval and admiration, and more than one “She is good,” as you answered with grace, eloquence, and intelligence some of the hardest questions that a kinkster could be asked.

    They weren’t just saying “Wow, she did that well.” They were saying “Wow, she did that better than I could have.” I know you’re going to try and snicker a defense mechanism and assume I’m delusional or being complimentary or something about that. S’fine, we all have our barriers and our Broken Mirrors. I know what I saw, though. You don’t belong in the entourage or at the side of some person or cause. You are a leader, a visionary, someone who knows and thinks and has the god-given ability to express it. You have this amazing machine inside your head capable of doing so much.

    And you choose to do lighting. You tell me: am I wrong? Does that actually challenge you? Are you using that lambourghini you were gifted with to drive to the store and back every day, because that way you won’t have an accident?

    Maybe I’m way off base with this. Maybe I’m totally wrong and you are growing mentally and spiritually with the work you do, and using your talents to make the world a better place. If so, I apologize for my arrogance.

    But it looks to me like you’re treading water because it’s easier than swimming. And that’s both sad and maddening, because it’s a beautiful ocean and there are others in it, drowning, who need your brains.

    Here endeth the lesson. Gotta catch a plane.

    Have a nice day! 🙂

    ~

    Two different people in my life made the exact same point at almost the exact same time.

    In my latest session with Doc, we talked about a few things, but the one topic that has stuck with me most was the above quote.

    There was a moment, during our session, when I just stopped. The very next line of that exchange was me saying to myself, “People value me more than I do.” I let that statement sit in my brain, let myself sit with that realization, living with this new truth for a moment.

    Again, my immediate reaction to any compliment, to almost any praise, kicked in. Oh, they’re just being nice. Oh, yes I did well, but they could have done just as well or better. Oh, they’re sweet for saying that.

    Doc asked why I thought that, why my immediate brushing away of their compliments happened. It was obvious, after the work we’ve done, that it goes back to my issues with my father. Not having him as a constant figure in my life growing up gave me self worth issues, namely believing I was not worthy of his love or affection, therefore not worthy of others love and affection, therefore any affection sent my way was never wholly true.

    Sometimes it sucks, knowing the root of a problem and yet the issue still lingering.

    When I said that line to myself, I stopped and just thought about all the subtext in that truth. I was close to tears, but I held them back. Doc questioned me, what I was thinking in that moment, and I admitted to wanting to cry. He then called me on the wanting, asking me why I didn’t just cry. More excuses came; more work to do.

    And then, very shortly after my session with Doc, I got that email from a friend. I didn’t post the entire message to be cocky or pretentious, but instead, just like they wrote, it’s hard for me to believe.

    The message was completely unprompted and a great shock to me. In fact, I find myself reading it about once a day (if not more) because it is still hard for me to believe this person I respect so much would say those things about me.

    We all have stories we tell ourselves about our lives. But whether you are living through a comedy, tragedy, drama, thriller-action-awesomeness, it’s still just a story. The way others perceive you, though. That is who you are to the world, which can often be opposite of who you believe you are in your head.

    I’m still trying to wrap my head around this notion, of the respect of so many people I admire, and what to do with this new information. More on that to come…