One thing I’ve found out about kink over the years, is that, like parents, you don’t get to choose it. You like what you like. It doesn’t matter how much you don’t want something to turn you on, how un-PC it is, how repellent, how sexist, racist, ageist, sick, unhygienic, dangerous, immoral, unethical, unfeasible, socially unacceptable or uncomfortable it is. If it turns you on, it turns you on. You can try hating yourself for wanting it, try denying it, try rationalizing it or try converting it into something more acceptable but it’s still going to turn you on.
This is such an important point, that I have a feeling it’s one I’m going to keep coming back to.
I do feel sorry for people whose kinks are beyond the pale – to themselves or others. Sometimes they have to be. There are some things which just shouldn’t be acted out in real life – lots of things, in fact. And some things are just not acceptable to many people. Having a kink which really is too dangerous, immoral, ridiculous or whatever must be pretty lonely and isolating. For some it will mean forever giving up the hope of fulfilment and always carrying a dark secret. For others it will mean guilty, furtive, lonely indulgences, tentative confessions and repeated rejections and humiliations.
Why do I care? Well, because I’ve been there in the past. There was a time when I thought my kink was wrong, morally wrong, and that I must be pretty fucked-up and basically immoral for having it. Luckily for me, it turned out that it wasn’t wrong at all, nor was it weird, disgusting, unacceptable, evil, particularly dangerous or anything negative really. It could be acted out safely and enjoyably and there were plenty of people willing to help me do it. But I do remember the lonely torment of feeling it was wrong and rare. I feel for people who are in that position – either because they can’t accept their kink or because their kink really is unacceptable.
