Welcome to the 26th edition of Into the A+ Advice Box, in which we answer all the queer and lesbian advice questions from A+ members who submitted their queries into our A+ ask box because they wanted their questions answered in a space that is not accessible by Google, their mom, their ex, etc. (No guarantees regarding your ex, however.) Previously, we have included such questions in our epic Some Answers to Some Questions You Have Been Asking Us, and in most cases that is still the plan. But some questions were a lot longer or more in-depth and deserved their own place in the sun. We’re doing this column TWICE a month, now.

We solicited answers from the whole team, so let’s dive in!

Q1:

Hey Autostraddle, I love you!
I’ve been chatting and sexting with a hot queer and there’s definitely interest in us meeting up when it would be safe to do so, but that could be many months yet! At what point should I disclose that I have herpes? I don’t want to seem precipitous or make a bigger deal of it than it has to be, but I also don’t want her to feel like I’ve been deceiving her or stringing her along in some way. In the Before times I’d usually share this information on date 2 or so (generally I’m a wait-to-fuck-til-date-3-or-4 kinda person), but I don’t have roadmap for this.
Thanks!

A:

Carolyn: I don’t think there’s one right answer to this question (besides “definitely before you meet in person”). But generally, the right time to disclose anything that could impact a relationship of any description is “when it comes up,” and since it seems like this is coming up now for you, it might feel better to just do it sooner rather than later. Of course, you can’t predict how your sexting partner will react to your disclosure of a common, easy-to-manage, but high transmissible STI. But it’s probably better to find out now than in a few months.

Malic: I agree with Carolyn — it’s probably better to find out how this person will react now (i.e. find out if they’re worth your time and attention over the course of many traumatic pandemic months). It’s also important to remember that the way we disclose information has a huge impact on how folks react, so if you disclose your status early and casually, the person you’re chatting up might be more likely to receive the information with grace. Like Carolyn said, herpes is common. It’s not a big deal. But unfortunately, a lot of people don’t know that. Sometimes waiting a long time to disclose a fact about yourself gives that fact a little more weight than it needs to have, so keep that in mind.

Kayla: I echo the above sentiments and also just wanted to point out that ongoing sexting with plans to meet up (even if they’re vague as of now) DOES kind of sound like the pandemic version of “date 2 or so” so even though there isn’t necessarily a precise timeline rule for these things, it sounds to me like bringing it up soonish would be keeping in line with the way you operated in the Before times so it should feel familiar/comfortable to you!

Q2:

impulsively i bought a (foam) packer and some boxers and i tried them on and i felt so powerful and wonderful and androgynous and i loved it
but…..
the thought of anyone looking at me and think about my genitals horrifies me, and I feel like packing in my day-to-day life when i don’t bind and I’m not on HRT will make people think it is a fetish thing or be otherwise focused on what is going on in my pants. I don’t want anyone to think about what is going on in my pants, but I also want this thing to be going on in my pants!
It feels like I am faced with a choice in which I am unhappy whether or not I pack. What do I do?

A:

Archie: In my pre-pandemic day job, I used to interact with a lot of folks who were buying their first packer. What I told them, which is what I told myself when I first got one, is that no one is REALLY looking at our crotches. How often do you catch yourself on your day-to-day looking at someone’s clothed genitals/wonder what is happening under their jeans? Probably not often. I would even argue probably never! It isn’t something that registers to folks unless brought up for the most part. In my experience, packing feels huge and obvious because it’s new, it’s personal. It literally felt like I had a giant arrow pointing at my packer. In reality, no one noticed. If they noticed, they didn’t care, but I would argue no one even registered I was wearing it at all. I would encourage you to try wearing it out in short bursts of time before wearing it out all day.

Q3:

Hi! I’m spending December in my childhood home with my parents and I’m becoming increasingly frustrated with their casual fatphobic comments/comments around food/worth/bodies. For example, they often assign moral value to food (praising each other for eating salad, referring to foods with processed/added sugar as bad, etc). When this happens I’ll remind them that food has no moral value, and sometimes they’ll agree, but they also keep doing it and I can tell it’s harming me! They are also very into exercising, my mom especially. My sibling and I both feel frustrated about this. We are both straight size and did not grow up fat, and our parents generally don’t make comments about our bodies – but it’s clear the ways they have internalized fatphobia and diet culture and it’s really upsetting! They get defensive when we try to bring this up and say they are just doing what feels best for them. My mom had breast cancer ~10 years ago and no longer eats sugar because of how it affects her, which is probably valid, but the way she engages with food and sugar still makes me uncomfortable. They’re also scientists and very beholden to ideas of exercise and “eating well” and being “healthy.” How can I approach this with them? I really wish I could change their minds and make them be understanding and compassionate about this.

A:

Malic: What a frustrating situation! It sounds like you’ve addressed this issue with your parents in specific moments when it was relevant, but have you had a general conversation about how their language around food and bodies makes you feel? If not, then it’s time to make that conversation happen. When you introduce the topic, start by focusing on you and how you parents’ attitudes are making you feel. That way, your parents will be less likely to receive this information as an attack on their values.

If you or your parents are interested in resources that focus on a “health at every size” model of health, I highly recommend the Food Psych Podcast, which was created by the anti-diet dietician Christy Harrington. I listened to this a LOT when I was recovering from an eating disorder, and it helped model healthy attitudes and behaviors for me.

Keep in mind that most of us have an incredibly fucked up relationship with food and our bodies, and undoing internalized shame and fatphobia is an incredibly long process. If your parents start taking steps towards unlearning fatphobia, that’s a great sign, but be patient — their values likely won’t change overnight.

Jehan: I totally agree with Malic here, and think that it’s pretty unlikely you’ll be able to change your parents’ minds, as frustrating as that is. The main thing I wanted to add is that it might also be helpful to address what specific types of language are harmful and what specific actions you can all agree to so that your time together is less fraught. For example, if their praise of each other’s salads is less harmful than, say, a lot of emphasis on exercise, I would focus on the exercise commentary and leave out the “good food/bad food” bit. As Malic said, you don’t want to create a situation where they get defensive and/or start acting as if they have to walk on eggshells while you and your sibling are staying with them. Because they seem pretty committed to this particular set of values, I think it’ll help you both out to get specific about what you can and can’t live with for the time you’re there with them. Good luck!

Rachel: I’m so sorry your family is doing this; it’s incredibly frustrating and hurtful! My approach to this specific shaming pattern (and tbh with harmful family stuff/dysfunctional stuff being projected onto you in general) is to recenter the dynamic on their behavior, rather than taking it upon yourself to justify, explain or defend your own body and choices (which don’t need any justification!). Examples of this might look like calmly and politely interrogating their concerns or assumptions, or naming their overreaches or food-based anxieties when it happens, and operating on the (correct) assessment that their stuff here is the issue, not your eating. “It seems to really stress you out to eat meals with me, Mom – would it be better for you if we ate separately?” “I get the impression you’re really anxious about my diet – is there something going on for you you want to talk about?” I would also return to my fave advice of enforcing boundaries with action when communication alone isn’t being listened to – this is hard to do when you’re living with your parents and don’t have a lot of agency, for sure; still, I’d think about what specific actions you need them to stop doing and what actions you can take on your own to protect your wellbeing in the meantime when they do those things, and communicate that to your parents and crucially, follow through on it. “Mom, we’ve talked about how it’s not ok with me when you give me unsolicited advice about what I’m eating; next time you do that, I’m going to have to take my food and go eat in the other room.”

Kayla: I deal with variations of this a lot in my family, so I totally feel you and am sorry you’re having to deal with it! I do think you probably can’t change your parents’ attitudes and behaviors over night, but I also do think you can do things that will lessen the harm being done to you. Rachel’s advice about taking action when communication is not working is SPOT ON. Sometimes it’s the only thing people will really respond to. When communicating, I also think it’s useful to be as specific as possible when talking to your parents like “when you say X, it makes me feel Y” and then if they’re open to it, broadening the conversation to be one about fatphobia and fucked-up food stuff in a societal and cultural context. Sometimes helping people see the zoomed-in effects of their actions helps usher them into better understanding the broader implications. But also since they’re again unlikely to unlearn over night, make sure you are consistently reminding yourself that their issues with food are THEIR issues and try to allow yourself to exist outside of their expectations/stigmas. Easier said than done, but sometimes gentle self-reminders that you’re not doing anything wrong/bad really do help curb internalizing the stigmas of others.

Q4:

My first girlfriend and I dated for three years in high school and college. She was my first love. After we broke up she got married and had three kids and we eventually worked our way to being Facebook friends and have been in each other’s outer periphery ever since. It’s been almost 20 years since we dated. Her husband messaged me today to tell me that she’s passed away from Covid. He wanted me to know before it hit social media. I feel devastated by this news but I also realize that in a lot of ways I’m mourning my memories of her more than anything. I have never had to navigate grief that feels like this before. I could really use some advice.

A:

Jehan: I’m so sorry for your loss and I hope you’re being kind to yourself as you grieve. In some ways it’s a bit difficult to answer your letter because there isn’t really a question. From what you’ve written, my take is that you’re questioning whether or not you “should” be grieving someone who you weren’t especially close to in recent years. But it seems that your importance to each other was evident if her husband felt the need to personally notify you before making the more general announcement. But even if he hadn’t, I think it’s important that you allow yourself to feel what you’re feeling and to acknowledge who this woman was to you. Your first love can often shape so much of how you approach future relationships, intimacy, and so many other things and it makes sense that you’re mourning both the memories and also maybe a sense of sharing that history with someone who has remained in your outer periphery for decades.

It’s been my experience in losing people from specific periods of my life that I’m often transported back to not only the memories of my time with that person but also who I was back then. That you all stayed connected, even marginally, means that she was also able to witness your growth from that young queerling to the person you are now. It’s hard to lose someone who you’ve shared so much with! I don’t know if it would be helpful to connect with other people you’re maybe still in touch with from that time, but revisiting those times with people who knew you both then might be a way to keep those memories alive and to keep your ex’s memory alive.

The only other thing I’ll add is that grief (like most things) is not a linear process. Give yourself plenty of space and time to attend to your feelings. I hate the narratives about “getting over” the fact that someone has died. Time doesn’t make it okay, time just allows you to adjust to the new normal. I imagine the way your ex died also has something to do with your grief. It’s heartbreaking to hear that someone so young died suddenly, and is one of the hundreds of thousands who have died because of this virus. It’s incredibly upsetting and surely adds to any grief you’re feeling about the effects of Covid around the globe. Even moreso now, be sure to just allow yourself to process what’s happened and to baskin the beautiful friendship you and your ex shared for so many years.

Q5:

Hi!

My friend’s (step)kid (~12 y/o) just came out as non-binary and I’m SO HAPPY AND EXCITED FOR THEM! My friend is also basically supportive! I think I’m the gayest person in my friend’s life so I am hearing a lot about this and I am glad to be of service! My friend is doing a couple of things that are grating on me: she’s talking about “grieving” – the loss of her idea of what the kid’s adolescence and adulthood would have been like, I think? And, she is dead set against any “irreversible” hormone therapy while the kid lives at home, because she didn’t want kids for a long time until she did a couple of years ago. Which to me, someone who still doesn’t want kids, is reading as “everyone born with a uterus shall one day decide to use it” which is an annoying thing to hear over and over. My friend is doing great with the kids pronouns, and even though she’s against irreversible hormone therapy (tbh, as is probably clear, I don’t know that much about this, and neither does she!), she did make an appointment in the new year to meet with an endocrinologist to discuss hormone blockers. And to complicate matters, the kid’s other mom is even against the kid getting a binder because she’s decided it’s like foot-binding and will cause some kind of persistent change in the kid’s body – which seems untrue, right? And also I’m worried that part is my fault because when my friend told me the kid had brought up binders I sent her some info about not wearing them too long and getting them fit properly to not cause any harm! Which is totally not the same thing as “any binder will irreversibly change the shape of your body forever.”

Do you have any advice to help me get over things I am feeling annoyed about (the idea of grieving your… nb kid’s past? imagined future? not sure!; pearl-clutching re: reproductive choice), or supporting my friend (but maybe more importantly, her kid?)?

Thanks!!

A:

Malic: It makes sense that you’re annoyed! It sounds like your friend is showing support for her kid in a lot of ways, but she’s definitely engaging in some behaviors that most folks in the queer community would call, well, “cringey.” First, I want to clarify that only some effects of hormone therapy are “irreversible,” but if your friend is taking their child to see a doctor about hormone blockers, the doctor should be able to cover that. Second, I want to address this “grieving” thing — when parents say they’re “grieving” their child after their child comes out, it’s fucked up — that is, if they’re saying that to their kid, but I don’t know if that’s happening here. All I know is that your friend is sharing this with you, probably because she feels safe with you, and while the language she’s using is definitely gross, the kinds of feelings she’s having are normal. Whether we like it or not, all parents have some expectations when it comes to their childrens’ future. Even parents with straight, cis kids have expectations around what their kids’ lives will be like. When a child deviates from that path, it can be jarring for the folks who raised them. For example, when I came out, my mom was supportive, but she had a hard time coping with the fact that I might experience more hardships at school than she had anticipated (of course, there’s a difference between that kind of grieving and the “oh god my child is basically dead to me” grieving. If the latter is happening, then it’s time to intervene).

When your friend shares these feelings with you, listen. Remind her that her kid’s life will be different than what she thought it would be, but it will also be extraordinary! Coming out opens who a whole new community for queer and GNC folks. Your friend is super lucky to have you in her life to help guide her through this process. But remember — if you feel like your friend is putting too much of an educational burden on you, advocate for yourself and direct her to outside resources. You don’t have be the official queer ambassador if it makes you feel overstretched.

Q6:

These days I’m feeling a bit isolated, as there are many times when I’m just in my home where I live alone. Do you have any suggestions for live streams I could watch or other things that would give me a better sense of community while at home (apart from calling a friend/family)?

A:

Carolyn: Look at social media for in-person events that would have been in your area and see if they have video spin-offs going on now. See if any creators or networks you’re into are doing online workshops. (If you like drawing, yumi sakugawa occasionally offers really great classes.) Or, rather than calling friends and family, try setting up standing watch party dates – you get to catch up a little, and then share an activity, without having to talk the whole time.

Jehan: I totally agree with Carolyn here and have personally found virtual book clubs, dance parties, and also virtual work-out dates to be really helpful! I know Zoom fatigue is real, and so it’s helpful to have gatherings or catch-ups built around a specific thing. What I also appreciate about the book club and work-out dates are that they help to structure my time when I’m not on Zoom and I’ve found that having those fun commitments helps keep some of the feelings of isolation and sadness at bay.

Natalie: To piggyback off what Carolyn and Jehan have said, I’ve found a lot of the things I enjoy doing offline have come online during the pandemic…the challenge is just finding them. If you’re a concert goer IRL, try Songkick or Billboard for a running list of virtual concerts you can attend. Check out your favorite authors’ social media pages to find out if they’re hosting online chats about their new releases. If you’re interested in developing or sharpening your skills, online learning has never been more accessible. Whether it’s taking a writing course at your local community college, a cooking class taught by a real chef or starting that new podcast that you’ve been dreaming about, those opportunities are more available now than ever.

Kayla: Social media is definitely great for finding out about both big and small virtual events! Finding local virtual events (by looking at the twitter/instagram feeds of your local bookstores, concert venues, comedy clubs, etc—depends on what your personal interests are!) has specific benefits because you could end up connecting with people who you could potentially meet up with IRL post-pandemic. But another positive side effect of all these virtual events is the ability to “attend” things in faraway places! Always dreamed of seeing the Met Opera but haven’t ever been to NYC? They’re currently live streaming encore performances on their website! Again, it all kind of depends on what your specific interests are, but there are soooo many specific things out there to tune into, whether it’s just to watch a performance or to interact with others in some way.

Q7:

I think my crush and I are both very shy and… how do I tell them I like them?
For the record, we have already slept together (once) and we go on cute dates (mostly, snuggling in my home while watching a movie). But… We talk a lot about sweet romance novels, and not so much about… each other, or, “us”? And they’re not great at texting so if I want to talk about something I have to say it in person. How do I find out if they are right for me, and serious about me?

A:

Carolyn: The only way to find out whether or not someone you’re into is into you back is to tell them you’re into them and see what they say. Personally I would love it if there were a less vulnerable way to do this, because ugh vulnerability, but share your feelings in whatever way feels truest to you and go from there.

Malic: Yep, like Carolyn said, just be forward! That’s the only way you’ll know where they’re at. If you’re going on snuggling-and-watching-movies dates, then it sounds like they’re digging what’s going on. Clarifying your wants and expectations is a totally normal thing to do when you’re dating someone, even if it’s casual. It’s the best way to show respect for yourself and for the person you’re dating.

Kayla: Yup, the only way to know for sure is to tell them. And yes, this requires vulnerability. And technically the worst case scenario in telling them is that they end up saying they don’t feel the same way. And wouldn’t you rather know that now versus later? I know it can be incredibly hard to answer that when you’re currently in a situation with them and hoping for more, but based on your letter, you really are hoping for more and yearning is not going to bring you comfort or stability. If you want more, say you want more. If they say they want to keep things the way they are, you have to decide if that’s something you want or if it’s better to end things so that you’re not hoping they’ll change their mind. You have to accept their answer as the truth.

Q8:

I watched the fisting workshop and it was great!
I live in Germany right now and I’m really happy it was recorded so I could watch it at a convenient time!

I have a question from it though:
I know silicone lube degrades silicone toys, and another type of lube degrades condoms, but does any lube degrade gloves? How much does it matter?

A:

Carolyn: Generally, avoid oil-based lubes with safer sex barriers (like latex condoms and gloves), as they degrade the barrier (not in a hot way). It’s also a good idea to consult the manufacturer’s website for any lube you want to try to make sure there isn’t a specific interaction you might be overlooking – for instance, Uberlube is a silicone-based lube, but it is not compatible with polyurethane.

Malic: Thanks so much for attending the workshop! I’m so thrilled that you enjoyed it! Carolyn’s lube compatibility advice is spot-on. Here’s one thing I’d like to add:

I just realized that I didn’t address oil-based lube and glove compatibility in the workshop. I absolutely should have, so thank you for asking this question! A lot of folks love oil-based lube for fisting, but like Carolyn said, oil-based products degrade latex. However, nitrile gloves are usually a-ok for any type of lube. Double check with the manufacturer if you’re not sure.

Q9:

What are some good sex toys for someone who likes penetration but has short arms or otherwise has difficulty reaching their vagina? Or perhaps positions?

A:

Carolyn: One answer could be a wand-style vibrator with a dildo attachment on the end – not only can you use the wand with or without the attachment, but it’ll add about 12″ of length. Depending on the positions (and storage space) available to you, the Liberator Pulse might also be an option – it’s a toy-mount with two separate pockets for toys and a removable cover that’s machine washable for after.

Malic: I love Carolyn’s ideas! Here’s another hands-free option: try a suction cup dildo on the wall, on the floor, or on a chair.

Rachel: These are great suggestions! In terms of positions, I’m not sure what you’re doing right now, but if you’ve primarily been trying laying flat on your back, it can make a huge difference just to prop up your back with a few pillows or a wedge; something like the Liberator Wedge would work, but you could also get a (much cheaper) study pillow to lean back against so you’re sitting at a 45 degree angle and your torso is closer to your pelvis. Depending on what kind of penetration you like (this won’t give you a feeling of fullness or stretch, per se, but if you love g-spot stimulation is perfect) you might try the nJoy wand, which has a long curve that functions like a handle.

Q10:

I have vaginismus, and as a result, I have never used a tampon, had penetrative sex, or successfully gotten a gynecological exam. It’s that last thing that I’m writing in about. When I was 16, my mom made an appointment for me to get my first pap smear, and I experienced excruciating pain and panic when the gynecologist even touched me with a Q-tip. In the end, she wouldn’t go through with the exam because I was far too distressed. It has been over 10 years, and I haven’t tried to visit a gyno again. For a while, I was able to say, “Well, I’m not ‘sexually active’ as far as medicine is concerned, since I’m not having penetrative sex… So I don’t need to go.” However, my period cramps—which have always been bad—have gotten progressively worse over the last few years, and I sometimes experience stabbing pelvic pain. My therapist keeps telling me that I have to get this checked out, but the thought of going to a gynecologist makes me feel a combination of terror and shame. But there doesn’t seem to be a real psychological component to work through here… I’m not a survivor of sexual assault or abuse, so these feelings are tied entirely to the pain I’m anticipating and the knowledge that most other vagina-havers seem to be fine with penetration. I’m crying just writing this, and this is ANONYMOUS. I guess I’m just asking for advice on how to navigate this… can I ask to be put under anesthesia? Are there non-invasive procedures that could shed some insight on what’s going on? What do I do?

A:

Malic: Only a doctor can diagnose pelvic pain, so you’d have to make an appointment with a gynecologist to know exactly what’s going on. I’m sure that’s the last thing you want to do, since it sounds like your first experience was incredibly painful and scary. Give your doctor a heads up about your vaginismus — if you can describe your symptoms in detail, your doctor can probably start helping you with your pelvic pain without having to do an exam.

Eventually, though, a pelvic exam might be necessary. Gynecologists see vaginismus all the time, and your doctor can (and should) help you tackle that issue before attempting to get a speculum inside you. Most doctors help their patients treat vaginismus with dilators — these are basically dildos ranging in size that start at about the width of a pinky finger. You pop one in while you’re relaxing at home. When it feels more comfortable after a few uses, you move up a size. This helps your pelvic muscles get used to having something in there. Some doctors also prescribe pelvic floor physical therapy. Both of these treatments take time, so be patient with yourself.

Once your doctor has helped you treat your vaginismus and you’re ready for a pelvic exam, here are two things you can ask for that make the experience a lot more comfortable: 1. Speculums come in different sizes. Ask your doctor to use the smallest size that they have. 2. Ask your doctor if you can insert the speculum yourself. My gynecologist has her parents do this, and it makes a world of difference.

Q11:

I’m an androgynous non-binary person and over many starts and stops with HRT, I realize that it’s not for me (or that it will at least be a long time before I’m socially/emotionally/physically ready to have so much of my body change, even as slowly as that can go). However, it’s becoming increasingly apparent that I do need to get top surgery. I’ve seen so many friends and acquaintances get top surgery and have great results and have done my research about the surgeons in my area, whether they’ll take my insurance, and what their results look like. I’m most concerned about the recovery process. All of the people I know who have had top surgery have either had family or partners take care of them for the weeks after surgery. I don’t have a partner and my family is lukewarm at best about my gender things, so I don’t feel comfortable reaching out to them. I do have a lot of wonderful friends– special shout-out to my roommates, who I have become especially close to as our social circles have forcibly shrunk. That being said, I don’t know if I necessarily feel comfortable asking them (or my other friends) to help me with the nitty-gritty of post-surgery recovery, especially since a lot of it can get pretty graphic. I don’t want to put the cart before the horse, but I have a lot of difficulty of even thinking about scheduling some kind of consult without having an idea of what recovery might look like. What do folks do if they need major surgery but are uncomfortable seeking help? Is this something I should just get over? Should I pay someone to help me out (which also makes me very uncomfortable– having a stranger in my home, looking at my gross, immediate post-surgery body? No thank you.)? What steps should someone like me take?

A:

Malic: It makes sense that you’re thinking about your post-op care now — that’s a smart and responsible way to prepare for an upcoming surgery. I’m sorry you’re not able to ask your family for support. I hope that someday they’re able to affirm you and show you love in all the ways you deserve.

One wonderful thing about being part of the queer community is devloping closely-knit chosen families. It sounds like your roommates and friends are your chosen family. They care about you, and as long as they’re not freaked out by blood and drains, they’re probably willing to help you. And they might surprise you with just how game they are — a lot of people think medical stuff is fascinating. The only way to find out if they’re willing to help with your recovery is to ask, so ask them (and make sure you have your post-op care buddies selected before your surgery is scheduled).

I know that asking for help can feel uncomfortable, but there might come a time when your friends need your help, too. Opening the door to shared care might make them feel better about reaching out to you when they’re in need, and knowing that you can rely on each other will bring you closer together in the long run.

Q12:

Hi! I’ve been sitting on this for a while and looked through AS to find articles that could help but couldn’t find anything on this so here I am. I’ve known for a whole while that I’m not interested in vanilla sex. I’ve always been turned on by power play, submission and receiving pain. I proudly and publicly identify as kinky and as a switch. I’ve suspected for about a year that I carry some shame about this sexuality and it became more and more clear that I do. In fact I only re-discovered that the first time I had admitted wanting to play around power was through a letter to my now ex-partner. In what I wrote, the self judgment and the violence of the language towards myself and my desires now makes me want to puke. I was confused because I thought I always felt tolerant, open and happy with my kinks. I had no idea I ever felt that “explicitly” ashamed of it as it shows in the letter I dug up. Now (5 years after said letter), I’ve experimented a lot with my kinks with my partner who has similar interests and it’s been really amazing! I genuinely love my kinks. I’d hate for them to disappear. But deep down… I am very ashamed. I think? I don’t even know how I know it but below the 15 layers of love, curiosity and joy for my kinks, there is a foundation telling me that something has to be inherently wrong with me to want the sexuality I have. Of course, I would never tell that to anyone I know (and a lot of my friends are also quite kinky). I have no idea how to start dealing with this which has been very slowly destroying my sex life. I’m aware that this is the kind of thing that I should talk to a therapist about but part of this shame has actually been dug up in therapy, in a context that was unsafe for me and traumatised me further. So I’m asking you for starting points to help me start working through this shame because I feel like I’m trying to battle an invisible ghost with no knowledge about ghosts. I’m looking for books, articles around shame and kink, separately and in their overlap that are relevant but also any thoughts you might have on this and what could help me!

A:

Rachel: I feel for you so much friend! I am so sorry that you’ve been dealing with so much shame and anxiety around this for so long, and (it sounds to me) like a double layer of feeling shame ~about the shame~. I know that it isn’t what you’re asking for, but I would love to give you permission to at least let go of beating yourself up for feeling this way; it doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong or are a bad queer or kinky queer; it’s not like everyone else is somehow free and clear of this because they’re more healthy and liberated! It’s extremely easy and common to feel shame around this, and especially if you’ve had a stigmatizing experience about it in therapy, it makes so much sense you’re feeling how you are. Many, many people still deal with internalized stigma and shame around vanilla gay sex; I think you’re putting a lot of pressure on yourself to have individually transcended many layers of puritanical straight cultural norms and second-wave feminism! A good start is to have some compassion for yourself about feeling bad rather than frustration!

I hear you about looking for a therapist to talk with this about, but to be honest I don’t think it needs to necessarily be the first or most important step, both because this is a very normal and common way to feel and also because of exactly what you’ve pointed out; finding a kink-competent therapist who can help with this stuff is pretty hard, and going through an arduous process to find someone who can help might make you feel even worse. In the meantime, it’s great that you have kinky friends; I’m curious why you feel so strongly that this feeling is something you’ll never bring up with them. I think that would be a really helpful start, and that while I’m getting the sense you are maybe imagining they’ll look at you like you have three heads. I think you may be surprised to find that most or even all of your friends have or still do struggle with similar experiences! Hearing from them about what comes up for them in their internalized shame monologue and having a compassionate ear to affirm your own feelings can help a ton.

Along those lines, I’d also really seek out perspectives and experiences from other kinky queers broadly, and especially from people who might be on the other end of whatever dynamic(s) or practices you’re interested in. If you’re, for instance, a sadist, hearing from masochists about how positive and fulfilling that dynamic is for them can be really healing and help replace a lot of the narratives you might be repeating in your own head about how bad you are. It wasn’t totally clear to me based on your q who your current dating/play partners are and if you’re engaging in any kink dynamics with them currently or if internalized shame is preventing that, but if you do have any kinky activity partners in your life right now, it could also be really productive to talk with them and hear more from them about their relationship with kink and how you fit into it. This doesn’t need to be an intense processing session where you reveal all your internalized stuff or they do, but talking about what kink means to each of you and hearing from them about the (good) ways your kink practices have shown up in their life or made them feel can be really helpful and grounding.

Reading can also be really helpful for that! You asked for resources – here are some! A lot of these are general, not stigma-focused, because I think that a lot of what will be helpful is just immersing yourself in other people you respect who care about kink and feeling less isolated. A few of these are somewhat through the lens of gay male leather culture, but I wouldn’t dismiss them out of hand for that! The classic title here is really “Coming to Power: Writings and Graphics on Lesbian SM,” but it’s out of print (afaik) and very difficult (and expensive) to find! Tips on accessing it welcome!

+ Sinclair Sexsmith’s View from the Top on AS
+ Ari Monts’ Bottoms Up on AS
+ Various Pat Califia titles: Public Sex, Speaking Sex to Power: Politics of Queer Sex, The Lesbian SM Safety Manual
+ Leathersex, Joseph Bean
+ Leatherfolk, Mark Thompson
+ BloodSisters documentary (also read Daemonumx’s essay on this iconic documentary on AS)
+ Daemonumx’s substack on BDSM
+ DAVID substack, not technically devoted to SM but has had so many great thoughts on masochism!

Kayla: Whew, I could write many, many words on this topic, but that probably wouldn’t be very helpful in the immediate, so I’m going to try to distill my thoughts into one—perhaps prescriptive, so do with it what you will—coherent piece of advice. But first I just want to say, I’m sorry you’re dealing with this! Shame is so hard to talk about and unpack, because it’s so tied up in a million other emotions. I see shame as a constellation of hurt, sadness, doubt, anger, frustration. I see shame as identity crisis and, simultaneously, feeling too close to the core of one’s self. Shame around kink and sex is extremely common and yet also deeply personal. So anyway, my one piece of advice is this: Don’t feel like you need to understand WHY you want the things you want. I admit, this might not be the right advice for everyone. Some people NEED to understand things in order to not fear them. But I do think it’s helpful to realize that you don’t HAVE to interrogate desire. You don’t HAVE to understand why you want the things you want. I think this can be a freeing experience, because it moves one away from attempting to pathologize one’s kinks. And that can help immensely with shame. There are so many things that construct and inform desire, and you are welcome to reflect on those things if it helps you understand yourself but it also, again, isn’t something you HAVE to do if it feels overwhelming or harmful to do so. In my case, it was incredibly helpful to stop analyzing everything I wanted and to just let myself want those things.

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