I'll give you a little sex history about myself so you can see that I'm a relatively normal human being, albeit perhaps with a bit less of a filter than everyone else. I was brought up in a house where sex was always relatively taboo. I remember being scolded for making penis jokes as early as the first grade.
RANDOM ASIDE! In the first grade, I remember the old school song:
"Joy to the world, the teacher's dead.
We barbecued her head!
What happened to her body?
We flushed it down the potty!
And round and round it goes...
And round and round it goes...
And round and round and round it goes."
People remember this, right? Anyways, we changed a few of the lyrics.
"Joy to the world, (random male)'s dead.
We barbecued his head!
What happened to his weiner?
We sucked it up the cleaner!
And up and up it goes...
And up and up it goes...
And up and up and up it goes."
Watching my first grade teacher standing behind my friend as he sang this (totally my lyrics by the way) with a look of horror that grew exponentially larger is one of the funniest things I can remember. I wish I could go back as an adult so I could watch that scene unfold. The best part is that my young self saw the situation before it even happened and decided even then that things would be much more awesome if I just let him destroy himself.
Back to our regularly scheduled story. Neither of my parents was very religious when I was a kid, although my mom is now a devout church goer (her Jesus kick), so it's not like there was a real intrinsic basis for sex being so rarely discussed.
What made matters more complicated is that as I grew older, my exposure to sex was largely from my parents cracking jokes around me that I didn't understand, sometimes at my expense. I remember when I was maybe eight or nine and my dad made a comment about "spanking the monkey." I laughed, hell everyone else in the room was laughing. Besides, even if you don't know what it means, isn't spanking a monkey kind of hilarious anyays? (Just picture it.) That delightful scene was followed by both of my parents badgering me for the better part of an hour because they were convinced that I was...I don't know, a serial masturbator or something. (Not yet!)
I'm not bitter about the situation, I can imagine that the possibility that your child knows anything about sex before you're ready to deal with that reality is downright terrifying. The situation was handled poorly, but I can at least understand why. Unfortunately this would be the predominant method in which my parents brought up sex for the next several years, teaming up to badger me about the cornucopia of things they were sure I already knew.
Truthfully, I was pretty ignorant. I saw all the bullshit films they show you in elementary and middle school health, but anyone who knows anything about sex-education in the United States knows how helpful those were. I didn't have a concrete idea of what sex even was until the sixth grade when my mom gave me "The Talk."
On a Sunday after church, we headed to Borders Bookstore at the mall. On the way, my mom informed me that we would be having a discussion about sex. Since every discussion on sex until that point involved both of my parents making fun of me together, I was less than thrilled. I still remember the book I bought that day, Animorphs #27, which didn't help the situation because, hey, Rachel was hot.
I remember being miserable for the entire shopping outing, hoping my mom would forget about the planned discussion. The talk itself was pretty mundane; she told me the basics, opened a book and showed me a few pictures and it was relatively short. I did finally learn what a "69" was, thus beginning my obsession with oral sex. I don't recall what the birth control tone was. I'm fairly sure she told me that sex was meant to be between two people who loved each other, and shouldn't ocurr until after marriage, but I honestly don't remember. I do remember her telling me not to trust devious women when they say "the birth control is taken care of." Hmm, maybe mom has some wisdom after all.
It was a good talk and it solved several mysteries for me at the time. As a rather nerdy child who wasn't exposed to anything more violent than the Power Rangers, my relationship with anything sexual was pretty much non existent for a while. In sixth grade, I remember having my first crushes, back when I felt the ultimate activity with a girl was putting an arm around her. (It's still quite nice.) In seventh grade, a few girls started growing boobs, which I noticed, but didn't particularly care about. Finally, in eighth grade, I noticed that still more girls had boobs and they were quite nice to look at. I have to laugh when I think of myself because I have not always and probably never will be the most socially adept person. I stared. A lot. I never really caught any flak for it, but I have to believe that at least a few people thought I was a complete perv. (Still true!)
Ninth grade wasn't a whole lot different, aside from one thing...I learned to masturbate. I didn't have a clue in hell what masturbation was, and generally only nodded and smiled when my friends joked about it. Then, one day I was in my bedroom fooling around with rope. (I told you it wasn't a new thing.) I didn't really know why at the time, I just knew that it made my penis hard and that felt good. When I was starting to hang myself upside down from my top bunk, my penis freaked the fuck out. It started spazzing white shit everywhere, which in turn led to me to freaking the fuck out. WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING?! A few days later while in the shower I started to put the pieces together. Hey maybe that's that whole masturbation thing. Unfortunately, int hte beginning, I was about as skilled as my last girlfriend which led to conspicuous forty minute showers, but gradually my manual acumen began to increase. After time, I found that it was much more fun to include looking at pictures of naked women in this endeavor though I still had yet to explore porn.
In tenth grade, I developed my first real crush on someone, that is to say I wanted to explore her as a person. (Not to say I was shallow before then, but how much of a personality does anyone have in middle school?) She was utterly uninterested, but I was so oblivious, I didn't see it. Even though I had learned to masturbate, sex was still far from my mind. She was equal parts skinny and thick and had nice full lips that I desperately wanted to put mine on (instead of another part of me between). My main method of pursuing a girl was basically to be shy and awkward and write poetry alone. Not the most successful strategy. Over time I began to see that she was a pretty poor match for my personality and I moved on. My strategy for eliciting the attention of females didn't really change so I was single through to senior year.
Then I had my first girlfriend. (Names will be changed to protect privacy, and most of the people that read this will have no clue who I'm talking about. Still a few people might have some objections to what I'm about to write. My response is that truth is an absolute defense to libel, and that the following is true as best I can remember. So long as what I write is true, it is protected by the first amendment. My intent is not to embarass or belittle anyone, it is to reflect on my own past and explain some of my present. In short, it's not about you, it's about me.) It was actually pretty slick game on my part. Mary was in one of my classes, and from the beginning of the year I decided I would like to date her. Somehow I gathered the boldness to begin talking to her (it helped that I already knew many of her friends) and we quickly struck up a friendship. My intrepid course continued and I wound up asking her to the first dance of the year.
It's funny because at the time my main worry was "shit, I don't just want to go to the dance with her, I want to date her, how to I transition from a date to dating?" Fortunately I didn't have to do anything because she assumed it meant we were already dating. (This style of assuming would come in handy later as well.) It was a good first relationship, good first kiss, first makeout session and everything. Her friends were the type of straight-edge, preppy people that I liked to hang around with so everything was peachy. There were two main problems: after a while the relationship plateaued, and I never developed strong feelings for her.
This was the very first time the sexual gears in my mind started to turn. After having reached the makeout stage for several weeks, my brain was bored, and I wondered where to go next. At one point I made an advance and was quickly rebuked. I don't want to sound like a terrible person and say that was the reason we broke up, but that would probably be a lie. She was and is extremely nice, but too vanilla for my increasingly deviant tastes. Finally I solicited the advice of my friend Mike on how to dump someone. He told me to let her down easy and suggest taking a break, and then dump her after a week. (Note: this is horrible advice. It's like ripping off a bandage. Do it quick you pussy.) Anyways, I did just that, and my brain was again wracked with how to turn "break" into "break up." She made that assumptions for me though, and my work was done. (Yay assumptions!)
About that time, or probably a little before, I was introduced to the world of BDSM. I can remember fantasizing about rope since I was probably aorund four or five years old. Finally, with the help of the internet, I wanted to find out what this really meant. I started googling something like "people being tied up" which led me to bondage. From then on it was a click-fest through literally everything I could find, some of it arrousing, some of it horrifying (needles *shudder*).
After another uninteresting relationship, I went to college. Holy shit high speed internet. I can download actual videos! THIS IS THE GREATEST THING EVER! At this point I was still in the "no sex before marriage" camp. I don't know why, I never was particularly religious. I think it was just because it was what I had been told, and I hadn't thought to question it. I started talking to a friend of one of my college friends, who happened to be fourteen or fifteen at the time. At one point she talked about how badly she wanted to fuck someone. My initial response was "you're only fucking fourteen and you want to have sex? What's wrong with you?!" After thinking about it for some time, I realized, "I'm eighteen and I don't want to. What's wrong with me?" I began to explore just why I thought that waiting until marriage to have sex was a good idea and found that I couldn't come up with a single reason to support the notion. It was a completely baseless and arbitrary thought and I quickly killed it.
Being in close proximity to my friend Mike (high school and college) defintely played a part in opening me up. Mike was and is nuts, and was pretty much willing to spout off any vulgarities tourettes style. "Wait a minute, I can say things like poop, and penis, and people won't look at me like I murdered a kitten (like my parents would)?" Well this is new.
The best part is that we did this right before one of the breaks so the parents of just about every freshman saw it when they came to pick up their kid. Awesome.
Thanks in part to Mike being Mike, and in part to simply growing up, I began to accept the deviant aspects of my sexuality instead of trying to hide from them. Not a lot of people know this, but when I first started looking at bondage porn, I was extremely aroused, but also got horrible guilt-driven headaches. I just couldn't come to terms with my deviancy. It was a constant struggle to either embrace it, or hide from it, and after years of choosing the latter, I'm glad I wound up with the former. Being a weirdo is far preferable to being a child raping priest acting on buried desires that grew deformed because they couldn't be accepted.
Another huge part of my transformation was the band t.A.T.u. I discovered their music early freshman year and was immediately smitten. The whole "I am who I am, I'm not going to hide, and fuck you if you don't like it" attitude resonated deeply with me. Here I'd spent years beating myself up for being a certain way and liking certain things that were not only okay, but a lot more normal than I could have expected. (Being dominated is the #1 sexual fantasy.) For a long time I felt that it was my fault for being a weirdo when it was really everyone else's fault for being judgmental assholes.
Society is a dangerous thing because it likes to come up with arbitrary rules that everyone is supposed to follow. Hell we have an entire phenomenon based on arbitrary rules. It's called religion. (I'm sorry, but I'm not putting any stock in a several thousand year old book that is the supposed words of an invisible man in the sky. If that makes me faithless, then I guess it does.) The absolute worst thing that can happen is for someone to feel bad about doing something or being a certain way because an unnamed majority frowns upon it.
I grew exponentially in college. The biggest thing I took from the experience was not the education, but in the increasing comfort I felt in merely being myself. I think, sometime in 2008 or 2009, meeting another friend with whom I am very close brought about the final destruction of any shame I felt in my interests. To see that there are people just like me is extremely liberating. To see that there are people that like things that make me a tad squeamish is fascinating and it brings a smile to my face, because as much as I delight in being a weirdo, there is some comfort in fitting in within certain realms.
At the ripe old age of twenty-one, a few months after I was out of college, I had sex for the first time. It cemented what I had suspected all along, "this shit is awesome." And though the girl is a skank, and a part of that disapproving vanilla society that is so dangerous (and that I like to lambaste), I cherish the moment and the advancement of myself. It has been frusterating, having such kinky desires and being unable to act on them so far, but I hold out hope that my time is coming.
So where does that leave us in regards to my allegedly recent "sex kick?" As I've said, my interest in bondage dates back to the age of four or five when I used to dream about rope. That is as much a part of me as anything. While I am a recent arrival to the sexual world, I think that many of those feelings have been there all along, merely waiting until the time when I was ready to let them out. Sex is still taboo at home, although at least now my mom only frowns when I ask my sister if she's taken it in the ass yet in front of the rest of the family. (Hey, I've spent years being awkward and hating it. Now it's my turn to make everyone around me feel awkward and loving it.)
I don't hide the fact that I'm into bondage, or that there is very little sexually that I wouldn't at least attempt. I don't hide the fact that I enjoy porn, and if people think that makes me a loser, then that's their problem. I have a comfort in being myself that I haven't felt before and that is awesome. If someone called me out on a particular unpopular, nerdy, or weird interest in the past I would have blushed and tried to hide my shame. If someone did that now I would mount a verbal defense (because assault is only cool if the subject likes it) that would leave them in the fetal position.
In the words of t.A.T.u., "You shut your mouth, how can you say I go about things the wrong way? I am human and I need to be loved...just like everybody else does."