An Open Letter to Anti-Porn and Anti-Kink Feminists/Activists

I attended a take back the night event last night at SCCC hoping for a re-imagining of how to make streets safer for everyone. How to make them freer of violence both physical and otherwise. I was nervous coming in. I have lingering issues with institutions of higher learning (as a first gen college attendee & someone who has been asked to leave a college program). I got lost in the building that had told me in authoritative white letters at the entrance that said "only students beyond this point". I had the harrowing feeling I used to have in college. I felt afraid someone would point me out as a nonbelonger and that I would be 86ed.

Eventually I stopped being lost & found the room. Inside there were two friends who both gave me much needed hugs. This helped immensely. The room itself felt both jovial and anxious. There were folks wearing stickers that said "If you can't imagine a world without porn.... then you're fucked" (as if fucked is the worst thing you can be).

I was heartened by the first few announcements which included a welcome and a support person from the counseling office letting folks know that they were available if anyone became distressed or got triggered. The use of the word "trigger" gave me good feelings

The first speaker to come up and begin talking in earnest about the night’s intents and activities began to talk about pornography as an incarnation of misogyny and violence against women. In an effort to construct an argument she listed several types of penetration as well as money shots as evidence of exploitation. She also told the story of another Take Back the Night event
where dissenting bystanders were brought to a local porn shop which had a prominent display of “torture porn”. She spoke with what I interpreted as disgust about the bruises and other evidence of pain play that was on display.That was the moment I felt most acutely that I should leave.

I began to feel that the writing I had brought to share (which was specifically about generating consent culture between everyone) where not appropriate for this event. I would not have felt comfortable or supported sharing my stories about being assaulted by women. In that moment I felt as if the space was specifically focused to discuss herterosexual male-to-female violence. I felt my preferences and wants being erased & pathologized. I felt encouraged to censor myself rather than extend compassionate/considerate consentful communication about needs/wants and boundaries. I felt very clearly that I was being asked to impose on myself an oppressive restriction over my own wants/preferences. Because well...

I like simulated exploitation. I like bruises. These are (some of) my preferences. They are not disgusting (as some find them to be). The denial of my wants/preferences is what is.

Porn does not directly cause cultural misogyny &/or violence against women. The vast majority of what comes out if the industry certainly subscribes to and profits greatly from the cultures of violence and misogyny but it didn't invent it nor doesn't hold the whole of these destructive forces in its realm. Messages about violence and misogyny and anti-consent start way before a kid sees their first porno.

Channelling rage against porn (and kink) in this way is not useful. It will have little/no effect on a hugely successful industry, but even more than that: it stomps all over the agency of any woman or otherwise non-privileged person (folks of color and trans folks) participating in sex work or kink. I could not stand for/with the way the speaker erased the agency of (female) sex-workers (film stars) and kinky folks and even pathologized them exclusively as victims. This is why I chose to leave the room. Women, hell, people in general, don’t need to be saved from their sexual choices and preferences.

I understand the caring impetus behind wanting to divest violence from sex. It has been a point of dissonance I am still struggling to resolve. But I want to do more than just critique what happened last night. I want to at least offer an explanation and entry point for folks who are unfamiliar with kink and sex- & sexworker-positive culture.

I'd like to propose a new language for fucking. Let’s talk about engaging in sexual activity in terms of "lead" and "follow" (you can substitute the words “give” & “receive/take”). I hope that by using this language I can draw a parallel between the experiences of folks who prefer vanilla/nonkinky sex and those who enjoy to kinky sex.

A feature common to kinky sex is the (often vilified) use of the roles of dom/sub
or top/bottom. A good way for folks who prefer vanilla sex to conceptualize these roles would be for them to think first about their own sexual activities or fantasies. In those scenarios who leads and who follows?

Even in the least kinky of intimate activities shared between more than one person someone leads & someone else consents to follow. To say that this lead/follow power dynamic is inherently misogynist or sexist (even if they aftermath such as bruises cuts and scars are disturbing to you personally) denies the person in the role of follower any ability to consent. It can also pigeonhole them as powerless victims. It also denies the incredible care, energy, and responsibility it takes to lead/top/dom another person through an intensely vulnerable experience.

The position of follow can and often is rife with power and agency. The role of lead, however extreme it may look, can and often is full of awareness and a beautiful sense of collaboration and athletic-style encouragement. When a person takes on a role of less/more power within the boundaries of sex/play it does not mean they are tied to that role of power in any other way. Healthy BSDM requires an high level of awareness surrounding power dynamics, it does not always but certainly can actually contribute to better and more regular practices of consent.

Part of the fun of sex is the process of working with our words and bodies to navigate the tension between whether you/your partner(s) will follow their/your lead. Often in a kinky context an important facet of the play/sex is that folks are pushing the limits of how far they can go in the roles of lead and follow.Think of this as them being serious athletes seeking to push their limits


Yes there is a risk and sometimes a simulation of risk but it is not uncommon at all for humans to engage in situations of risk or simulated risk to push themselves to new level or even just for the rush of it (rollar coasters come to mind). There have even been studies that demonstrate sexual and romantic arousal to be more likely in situations of heightened danger or risk.

Like endurance-based athleticism, kink is not for everyone for reasons both physiological related to personal and preference.


Regardless of how far a person wants/doesn’t want to push/be pushed in their sex there will always be a tension between the position of lead and follow-- between the objectifier and the objectified, between Dom & sub or top and bottom. The decision of how to approach that tensions in a way that would be most pleasurable and least damaging is a decision best left to the individual and those with whom they share their sex lives. To mandate a level of “safe” or “nonviolent” sex without leaving space for that variances of sexual tension would sanitize and sedate so many sex lives. We can’t get rid of objectification and the lead/follow roles it involves (without drugs/surgery). It’s the support structure of sex itself. Sex is the agreement to enter into the lead or follow position of drawn out, intimate objectification. You either lead with your objectification or follow in being objectified by the leader. This process of objectification is not dirty. It is what human animals do.

This is why being kinky is different from being LGBTQI: A response to Natalie Walschots' interview

I’ve been following the recent controversies surrounding Fifty Shades of Grey, as well as Katie Roiphe terrible Newsweek article about it. I have mostly been loving the coverage and the deeply thoughtful responses. Unfortunately, an argument I’d previously only heard by suggestion and in passing, one I find particularly unsettling, has started to gain some serious traction.

In an interview for Feministing Natalie Walschots talks about a bunch of awesome stuff (especially about sexuality being a spectrum and how using extreme examples is useful but not really representative). I was, however, disappointed to read about her view on this point (one she repeats a few times in the interview):

“For some people, just as being gay can be the cornerstone of their sexuality, so BDSM can be the cornerstone of sexuality for many others. Acknowledging kink as a full-fledged sexual orientation is the key to de-stigmatizing it, and writing from that perspective is the most useful, inclusive and healthy.”

So... I have a problem with the rhetorical habit certain kinky folks seem to have, of equating, with utmost certainty, that some kinky folks feel that their identity as submissive/kinkster/dominant is equal to that of those who identify as LGBTQI (believe me this is not the first time this has happened).

As someone who identifies as both queer and kinky, I feel the important need to say, that identifying as kinky is not as pivotal in my life as identifying as queer.  One of the reasons I chose the moniker of “queer” because of its vagueness. I choose it to recognize that my sexual identity is a living force that changes often and often radically. In some ways the label of kinky comfortably fits under the umbrella of “queer”. But this is not the only reason I feel uncomfortable when folks equate kink/BDSM to being LGBTQI.

I don’t believe that kink/BDSM can happen without an education in and preparations/space made for rock solid consent. If any kink/BDSM activities are attempted without these things they are unsafe non-consensual play. At worst such activities turn into assault/rape/violence.  I recognize that this is an optimistic and even exclusive definition of kink/BDSM but I can’t feel ethical extending my definition of kink/BDSM to situations/activities where consent is squishy. What’s important about this definition of kink/BDSM in the conversation of kinky/submissive/dominant as an identity, is that it comes from a place of privilege.

What I mean by “place of privilege” is that folks who engage in kink/BDSM tend to have a well-developed awareness and expression of their sexual preferences. Within the kink/BDSM community folks are generally (and by the intent of most kink) encouraged to be honest about their sexuality. Ideally kinky/BDSM communities offer both physical and social spaces to generate language to communicate about sexual wants/fears/triggers. This practice keeps consent and accountability alive and present in kinky interactions. This is awesome. I am proud to be part of a community where this occurs. However when kinky folks fight to be recognized as healthy, fun-loving folks (which, by majority, they totally are!), they need to remember that part of what they are defending is their incredible, wonderful privilege.

There are many people who are unable (whether it is from external or internalized oppression) to be honest in their sexual expressions & who don't have access to spaces where it is safe to do so. These are folks who, under above definition, are unable to participate in kink/BDSM. Many of these folks come from traditionally oppressed populations; they are often queer, female, trans, genderqueer, people of color, trauma survivors etc... They might someday be into kinky things but at the moment lack the knowledge, safety, and space to choose to explore it. The inspiring thing about kink/BDSM is that, if it is done responsibility, it provides safe space for folks (including those oppressed) to express and explore their sexual identities.

I would love for it to be okay for kinky folks to talk about their preferences with folk in their greater communities; making these spaces more & more available to others. But equating kinky identity/orientation with LGBTQI identities/orientations is not the way to do it. It’s a lazy argument that oversimplifies the struggles of both parties. Sexual orientation exists in a person’s body mind and soul regardless of privilege (you are still gay even if you aren’t able to say it out loud yet!). Kink/BDSM cannot exist without an education and language about consent and safety, (which is a privilege I wish all were afforded). I recognize & respect that some folks do, as Natalie Walschots says, identify being kinky/submissive/dominant as “the absolute keystone of their sexuality and a crucial component of their health, happiness and self-actualization”. But you can’t be (responsibly) kinky without an education in consent and sexual safety. This is why being kinky is different from being LGBTQI, you can be LGBTQI all alone and without a language or freedom to act and speak, but kink needs dialogue at the least and community at best.