Why I’m Not Out of the Closet

I live in a country where BDSM is legal. I work for myself in a creative field, so being out of the closet would probably help rather than hinder my career. I’m still not ready to stop hiding behind these coat hangers. Only three of my “vanilla” friends know how seriously I take my kink. I found out one had been on Fetlife all along. The other takes me to play parties. (Thanks, G) and the other friend’s idea of risqué is women’s porn. I’d say the minority of my friends judge kink, so what am I hiding?

This is where my brain shuts down and I run out of words. Am I ashamed of my sexuality? I was much more ashamed when I first let my inner sub out to play, but I learned in the space of a few months that my kinky side was more of a pro than a con. The amount of shame I have left behind is negligible, but you will see it if you use a magnifying glass.


I grew up in a household that deified privacy, and even secrecy. We celebrated sex in one sense, but mostly, the law of the house was ‘fuck elsewhere, for this household belongs to Jesus’ (or something). I was allowed to stay at my boyfriend’s on weekends, but at home, bedroom doors were not for shutting. If we pretended sex didn’t exist, it’d all be okay. I learned where babies came from much later than my friends, and when I did, it was to a Des and Dawn record after my mother had dropped the needle and run like hell down the passage.

I suppose she gets cool points for teaching me via vinyl, but the running away bit prolly didn’t do my psyche any good. We watched The Rocky Horror Picture Show when I was tiny, but we most definitely didn’t talk about sex after I’d grown up. It was all completely contradictory, but we learned The Sex Rules in time: “Sex is good. Don’t talk about sex.”

And that’s the same attitude I have now, even here among all you kinky people. Don’t believe me? Go through my journal and tell me how many sentences you find that directly talk about sex. I’m guessing there might be five. That’s it. I’ve developed an incredible gift for discussing sexuality without discussing sexuality.

But at least I learned from vinyl.

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