Blargh

So, this is the first post, here, that didn’t originate with Fet, and the only reason it’s going here is that I don’t feel safe posting it, there. 

 

I’ve lost sight of the purpose I had, in wading into this fight. The people who make up the communities I’ve been trying to change. I was tired of seeing them being preyed on, again and again and again, by the predators and abusers, rapists and sociopaths, in their midst. I was tired of seeing the so-called leaders closing ranks around those damaging types, instead of actually standing up, you know, being leaders. 

 

The last few weeks, I’ve stopped caring about those people. They don’t want the changes. They don’t think it’s a big enough problem to inconvenience themselves, in order to change. They don’t want me pointing out the turds in the punch bowl, because they’ve all learned how to have a great time at the party, and drink ALL THE PUNCH, while ignoring the turds. They want me to just shut up, and let all of them get back to drinking their E.coli cocktail, and getting their rocks off with the assholes who will harm them. 

 

I’m pretty damned close to giving them what they want. Shutting up. Letting them have their shitty punch. They’ve made it very clear that I’m not a part of their community, anymore, anyway. They don’t want me there. They’d rather have the predators. 

 

I’m kind of over it. I don’t like people, much, anymore. Especially kinky people. Most especially Greensboro-and-the-surrounding-areas kinky people. They really just don’t care what happens to anyone, as long as it doesn’t get in the way of their good time. 

 

If they don’t give a damn, why should I? They’ve made it crystal clear that I’m not one of them, anymore.

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15 thoughts on “Blargh

  1. cocojonesblog says:

    I’ve been there. Where you just feel like, what’s the point of participating anymore… I don’t really go out a ton but I have surrounded myself with people who I feel safe around. I think drawing really black and white local boundaries has made a difference in my sanity. If someone is on the fence/playing both teams, they get deleted online and I don’t engage with them.

    When I go to a public spaces I feel safe in (really, I just have one here I am still welcome in) I avoid casual socializing. I am still working towards feeling comfortable with public play. Maybe someday I will be able to let my guard down more but at this stage it is the only way I can continue. To be on the outskirts because, well, I’m kinky and that isn’t going away. I just happen to live in a fortress right now…

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    • inadvertentfeminist says:

      I’ve had some seriously humanity-hating moments, the last few days. I lost my first, and closest, kinky friend… because I un-friended two other people, in simple emotional self-defense. Their stances on the issues important to me made me feel… slimy… by continuing to associate with them. She didn’t even ask me what had happened between us, though. She said:

      ” I would have never thought YOU of all people could do [those two people] the way you did….they helped you when no one else would. I’m just not going to deal with anything anymore that doesn’t matter to me so I guess it just ended, ended because I might piss you off like they did and others have and you forgot where ya came from and who helped you.”

      Yes. They helped me. I helped them, too, and much in the same way, years before. I was unaware that helping someone, or accepting help FROM someone, was some kind of a grand social contract that obligated me to continue to associate with them, when they’ve espoused views that I find personally ethically repugnant, or, further, USED those views to bully and silence and shame me into not fighting this battle the way I feel is best for me. I don’t remember seeing that in the fine print.

      And I’m seeing the people who refused to be okay with my stance, based on “being given ultimatums,” giving very similar ultimatums around different topics, or in different language, and being applauded by the very same people who called me a bully. A bully because I said you have to choose sides, or you’re enabling abuse.

      I barely know 95% of the people in the community that is now geographically closest to me. And I’m afraid to GET to know them. I’m afraid to trust them with my friendship. My experience has shown me that the things people SAY about their ethical views almost never line up with their ACTIONS, and I find that disgusting and repulsive. I don’t want to put myself out there like that, again, only to discover they’re actually more comfortable with abusers in their midst than with someone pointing those people out to them.

      I don’t feel safe speaking on Fet anymore, period. I haven’t for months. I’ve been doing it, anyway, but every time is like getting ready to jump out of a plane, not knowing if you got the parachute or the knapsack full of petticoats. I don’t always hit the ground in a rain of tulle and silk and bullshit, but it happens often enough that I’m almost always braced for it, in any interaction, with anybody.

      I was accused of being full of hate, for months, when I was actually full of concern and compassion, and passion for finding a solution. It was used to discredit anything I had to say. Now, I kind of DO hate them. I find them nothing short of despicable, and how to I argue for change from a place where I actually catch myself thinking things that contribute to rape culture. Thinking, for instance, that if they fall prey to it, they deserve it? That they actually ARE “asking for it?”

      Ugh.

      I don’t know if I can come back from this. I don’t like people, in general. I like many individuals, but most of those live in my computer, and I am frankly terrified of the idea of facing people, in person, in a group. It’s too easy for someone to ambush me with the same bullshit I’ve been fighting against all this time.

      Ugh again. And none of this feels the least bit productive. It simply feels like whining, or being pathetic. I’ve even, to an extent, internalized some of what they’ve been screeching, all this time – that I brought this on myself. That I should have been *nicer* about it. That I should have just shut up. That I had no right to tell them that they were doing anything wrong.

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  2. your feeling that you don’t feel safe posting there is bad enough, the fact that you don’t feel part of the community sounds sad to me, even though turd-drinking crowd is not the place to be… i wish you plenty of support from your locals because you’ve got the world ❤

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    • inadvertentfeminist says:

      Thank you so much. Honestly, the only thing that keeps me sane, through feeling so very isolated, is you, and those like you, who have been nothing but supportive of me, and my struggle with this thing. I value that more than I can say.

      But I can’t hug you guys, or cry on your shoulders. I can’t call you up and beg you to come by with junk food and girly movies and snuggle with me on the couch while I yell and cry and work through all these feels. As much as Bishop tries, there are bits of this he simply doesn’t – perhaps can’t – understand. And he can’t be everything, for me. No one person can do that for another. It isn’t fair to expect it, or even ask for it.

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  3. tess caline says:

    I’m sorry you don’t feel safe posting this on Fet. *hugs*

    I think, perhaps, there are a lot of kinky people who feel the same way about other kinky people as you do. I know I do. I’ve had those exact same thoughts, over the past few weeks, repeatedly. You can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped. And these people, these “communities” don’t want to be helped. It hasn’t gotten bad enough, yet, for them to realize they need it. *shrugs*

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    • inadvertentfeminist says:

      You know, I used to see people posting about that. About how morally bankrupt the communities were, about how most of them were just cesspools dressed up in leather and rope, and I used to think they were full of shit. I used to believe the communities were worth saving. I don’t know if I believe that, anymore. Especially not with *that* one. There are less than a half-dozen people I’d like to evacuate, if the whole area were about to be destroyed.

      They’re bullies, and entitled, entirely unjustifiably self-righteous, and completely lacking in anything resembling human empathy and decency. The only thing they care about enough to defend is their ‘right’ to get their rocks off without being bothered by such petty, frivolous concerns as rape and abuse and predators. Oh, and their oh-so-precious reputations.

      On a related note: Yeah, I totally get what happens when someone is falsely accused of something. I get the fear of being ostracized. I am living with that, right now, in an extreme I’d be willing to wager is almost NEVER faced by the people who are shunned because they’ve actually harmed others.

      Given the choice, I would STILL have rather faced this, than have been put through the abuse. I’d choose that, every single time.

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      • tess caline says:

        Morally bankrupt is a really good way to describe what I’ve seen here, in my local area, and on Fet in general.

        Before Fet, before moving up here to WA, the scene I was exposed to was small, close knit, and none of this shit would have flown even if you’d have attached a rocket engine to it. Before that, the scene I was exposed to was even smaller, even closer knit, and if someone even got a whiff of shit like this, people would have ended up in the hospital over it.

        Now? I have no idea what in the ever loving fuck the “scene” is anymore. I have no idea. Whatever it is, it’s not a “community”. And I’m missing the hell out of the scene I used to know.

        I’ve been ostracized the same way you have, albeit less loudly and less violently. I wasn’t well enough connected to anyone here for people to take it as personally as they have with you. And part of my isolation is my own doing — because dammit, I will NOT contribute financially to people who knowingly accept abusers into their “communities” and protect them.

        I have some of them on my friend’s list, still. I’ve been debating deleting them all. I never talk to these people. I never have any interaction with them. They don’t comment on my writing, or participate in threads with me. They certainly haven’t messaged me or helped me or done anything to indicate they want anything more than a bloated friend’s list.

        And yeah, false accusations are nothing compared to the abuse. It’s not even in the same fucking solar system. Random strangers thinking I’m a bitch? Fuck, I’ve dealt with that my whole life. A little bit more… I’d gladly trade it for the abuse, the assault, the stalking. Gladly.

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        • inadvertentfeminist says:

          I guess it took me longer to get to that fed-up place, because I was tossed into that shitty excuse for a community and marinated in that kind of culture for almost a decade. I had no other experiences of kinky communities to compare.

          The first time I tried to stand up about this, I was still pretty new. I was uncertain, anxious, and far too enamored of the community “role models” to go against their proclamations. I talked about the problems, about the six or seven “missing stairs,” and I asked why no one did anything. Why no one warned newbies who were getting involved with those people. Why no one excluded those people.

          I was told that we didn’t stir the pot. It was “drama” to speak up aloud, or publicly. That it was fine to warn people behind the scenes, or to warn “community leaders” of known problems, but not to make a stink that would “make us all look bad.”

          This, from the people I most looked up to, as leaders.

          I kept quiet.

          When one of the “community leaders,” a local venue owner of a club called La Fortress (the single largest, busiest, most profitable kink space in three states), revealed her behavior to be just as problematic, just as disrespectful of boundaries and other people’s agency or personal space, I spoke up. The backlash was immediate, and isolating. I was left without any kind of social support system. Within a couple of months, I recanted my concerns, and returned to active participation, but with all kinds of reservations and some jadedness, as well as a drive to warn people that all was not as it seemed.

          I started telling newbies to that venue to be wary, not only of attendees, but of its owner. I started working from the inside, quietly, as much as I could without being excluded. I advocated all manner of workarounds for the many missing stairs, and tried very hard to reach as many people as possible.

          There was a local kerfuffle about a 19-year-old convicted sex offender being allowed into the community. Being welcomed into the homes of kinky people who had children. ACTUALLY MAKING OFFERS TO BABYSIT THOSE CHILDREN. I found out who she was, and offered, publicly, to give her screen name, and the link to her registry profile, to anyone who asked me.

          I was immediately, and pre-emptively, banned from a group in the Triangle Area, The Enclave. The leader blocked me, banned me from the online group, and from the actual events.

          After my experience with abuse, I started demanding that people create policies about pattern predators, rapists, abusers, and repeat violators of consent. I was banned from La Fortress within a month.

          One of the leaders of the floating munch group that runs most of the local munches was one of the loudest “BUT WHAT ABOUT THE REPUTATIONS!!!” people. Sure. I feel uber-safe going back to *those* munches. /sarcasm

          Because of *that* person, and their partner’s, stance on keeping things under the radar, and false accusations, and the condescending and bullying way in which that was conveyed, all over every damned thing I wrote about it, I un-friended them both. Doing otherwise made me feel sleazy and hypocritical, and just conscience-stricken.

          Which is when the friend I mentioned, above, who happens to own the only other somewhat public play-space in the area, somewhat sickeningly, in retrospect, referred to as “Community House,” dropped me like a hot potato.

          This is the only version of community I’ve ever known. Not that there wasn’t good in it, or in its people, but around consent, they do more than fail. They actively harm, and don’t give two shits that they’re doing so.

          And up until this comment, I’ve never named any of those people or venues, publicly, in any way. Even after everything else, the silence was internalized that much.

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  4. cocojonesblog says:

    I think we all come from different places in the fight but have had similar experiences watching the ways that people abuse power. Part of healing and fighting is setting boundaries. You are doing this and the reactions people are having are showing where they stand and it isn’t on your team. And you deserve to only have people in your life who are on your team. All the hugs from Denver. This is the closest I think I can find for a virtual hug: http://thedesigninspiration.com/articles/50-adorable-animals-to-melt-your-heart/

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    • inadvertentfeminist says:

      “You are doing this and the reactions people are having are showing where they stand and it isn’t on your team. And you deserve to only have people in your life who are on your team.”

      I wish my team were all closer to me. :o) I need a night of froo-froo mixed drinks and goofy social stuff. I really miss having face-to-face friends to be around.

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      • cocojonesblog says:

        Yeah, it’s a bunch of crap that everyone is spread out. But glad to have made the connections regardless. Even if you are on an island you know that there are outlying beams of support that disagree with some of the dysfunctional crap that has laid it’s roots in your community. For whatever that’s worth.

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