I often notice some sort of snag or conflict come up between Kristen and I, and using those things I mentioned are the super strong foundations of our relationship, we can usually talk through it, understand where we’re both coming from, and explain how we got there.

My part of that often looks like this: “You did x, and x is very familiar to me because in my past relationship x had this kind of role and did this kind of damage to me, so it’s really hard for me when you do x, because I feel triggered and panicked.”

Another important part of this is: it’s pretty likely that she wasn’t intentionally doing x, or at least she certainly didn’t mean to hurt me; I do keep that in mind. Probably it was a by-product of her attempting to do something else. And usually she can express that explanation and I can hear her and I don’t get mad at her for doing it, generally I understand what she was trying to do.

But somehow I am still stuck in this past relationship, this past me, where that feeling was true and x meant something specific and my reaction is to PANIC. And I am starting to ask myself: is that happening in this relationship, right now? No, usually it isn’t. That is something else, that is in my past, that is an old wound that this new thing is pulling on, but it’s not the same wound. I am not becoming re-wounded there. I am not at danger of falling back into that wound.

So. Clearly, I need to “let go” of that old reaction. But how does one do that? How do you let something go when it feels like it’s so fucking hard-wired into the way my brain works? How do I not be scared and feel triggered and panicked when these things come back up?

This is what I’ve been contemplating lately, as things between Kristen and I are improving after another brief panic. One of the things about relationships that I deeply believe, indeed one of the POINTS of being in an intimate, loving, romantic, sexual relationship, is that they teach you things about yourself that you perhaps wouldn’t otherwise have the opportunity to learn, and if they are strong and founded and good, they also can be the space in which you have enough support to actually practice the growing, someone who is patient with you and who recognizes how hard you’re working to rewire yourself, who can gently remind you when you’re falling back into old patterns, and who can support you and encourage you as you try on new ones. Plus, they provide endless opportunities to use those new patterns, since conflict and difficulty and triggers from old broken hearts come up in relationship all the time. Isn’t that lucky!

I think what I’m talking about, in this question of “how do I let go,” is becoming more aware, becoming more mindful of what triggers what and what means what, especially in my relationship. I’m tired of all these old ghosts coming up. I have done a shit-ton of work to put these ghosts to rest, but the pathways in my brain are still carved out in many ways.

So I guess it kind of looks like this:

1. I have a reaction to something that’s happening in my relationship (usually a negative, bad, “unreasonable” emotional reaction)
2. I realize where my reaction is coming from (usually a past lover, wound, broken heart)
3. Let go of the old reaction, be in the present (instead of gripping onto and explaining myself through the past). How to do that?
   1. Well first, I need to be able to release my grip on #2, to be able to ask myself, How did I come to this reaction? Where did it come from, and how did it serve me? What remains unacknowledged about this old wound that means I still think I need this protection? Can I heal that wound and know I no longer need that protection? What is asking me for acceptance?
   2. Then, I need to be in the present. I’ve noticed myself grasping at these old stories, justifying my high emotions, so much that I am not sitting with what is. So I must learn to ask myself: What is happening now? Is this old pattern that I fear actually present?
4. After letting go of that old reaction, I can have a reaction to what’s happening now, with Kristen, with me, and aim, as always, to respond and react with lovingkindness and care and awareness and openness and love.

That seems fairly straightforward, actually. I think that is possible.

I spoke with a lovely friend and mentor recently about this exact problem, and she suggested a fairly simple rephrasing of relationship needs. I think that too will help in conquering this “how to let go” question. For example, if I notice this process happening, and get to step #2, realizing that I’m being triggered because it’s relating to a past hurt of mine, if I go on to say, “Okay, I need you to not be x like my ex,” that brings a lot of baggage into the conversation, a lot of layers and complicated past ghosts and old wounds and old ways of working and whoa suddenly it’s a whole lot more than just me and my beautiful girlfriend trying to talk through a little snag in communication or interaction.

Let me be a little more specific for this example, I think it’ll make more sense that way.

So one of the things that triggers me heavily is when someone in a relationship with me is withholding. It reminds me of my former lesbian bed death relationship, among others, and I get panicked that I’ll never again know what’s happening in her head and will spend years trying and it will eat me up. Ahem.

But this plays on other ways I work too, especially in that I am a very insightful, observant person who often knows what’s going on with another person’s emotional landscape even better than they do (especially if they aren’t too self-aware), and I have the tendency to constantly check in with them (silently, emotionally) to see where they’re at. If they aren’t telling me where they’re at, and in fact are deliberately putting up a wall and withholding that information, saying “I’m fine,” or “I don’t want to talk about it,” when I ask, I tend to assume something is brewing and will bubble up and explode later, which makes me way anxious.

I know, this is a totally unique situation that nobody else has ever been in, right? Nobody else has this problem, ever.

So, instead of having the reaction of “I need you to not be withholding like my ex!” I can rephrase it to something like, “it’s really important for me to know what’s going on with your mental/emotional landscape.” Not that we have to spend hours processing that, but I can briefly explain why I need that, and if she can just say, “oh, I’m feeling anxious about work, but I don’t want to talk about it,” that’s enough. Some broad-stroke explanation of what “that feeling” is that I am reading on her face but she’s not expressing.

Knowing what is going on with someone else’s emotional landscape one of my basic relationship needs, in fact! And in some ways it has nothing to do with my ex, it has to do with ME. It just reminds me of a time when this basic relationship need wasn’t met (and was probably taken advantage of), and what’s important is that the need be acknowledged and get met, not that there was a time in my past when it wasn’t met. (I mean, that’s important too, but I have done enough healing to hopefully not stick a rock in that wound to keep it open.)

Whew. That feels like a lot, but it feels like a relief, and like I’ve hit on something important.

One of the things about the ways that I work, and the ways I grow and change and get over capitol-i Issues that plague me, is that generally, as soon as I can articulate what’s going on for me and write—that’s the key here, WRITE—out a possible solution, or at least a path to try, I often find that I can rewire myself through that process. By time I articulate it, by time I name it and label it and say OH that’s what’s going on, and OH here’s what I can do to do that differently, those skills and awareness have kind of already integrated. This isn’t a 100%-true-always theory, but I have noticed that this tends to be true, and that too feels like a relief.

Okay so: how about y’all? How have you addressed this problem of past hurts in your current relationships? Any tips for me? Any tricks to keeping your own mindfulness and awareness up while dealing with things that are triggering and hard? Anything I might be missing here? Does this make sense? Can you relate to it? Or does it seem like I’m way off base?

PS: A teeny colophon note: I’ve been making some changes to this site’s sidebar and structure in general. A little bitta spring cleaning, if you will. And as such, the category formerly known as SSU has been renamed Critical Theory. It might change again, there are an awful lot of C categories over there in the list, but that works for now. Do not be alarmed, it’s still there.

Also, if you aren’t following my Tumblr log, mrsexsmith.tumblr.com, you might be missing out on some of the things I used to frequently put on Sugarbutch, like for example calls for submission for queer and kinky and feminist anthologies, eye candy photos of hot butches and femmes, media like youtube videos, announcements for other events, and more. It’s easy to subscribe by RSS or pop over there and check out what’s going on.

Related:

• Tuesday, March 2, 2010 -- Love Letter #4 (Growing Pains)
• Monday, January 11, 2010 -- Articulating What I Need When I Need It
• Sunday, January 3, 2010 -- Occasional Effects of D/s
• Monday, December 28, 2009 -- Yes, No, and Consent
• Wednesday, November 11, 2009 -- Fucking & Making Love

“Yes,” I answer, arm under her neck, the other hand on her hip and curved under her thigh and ass as she drapes herself over me partly.

“I was thinking about … you using me,” she starts in a small voice, quiet, by my ear. I can feel her breath. “Filling me up. Fucking me and fucking me without caring how it was for me. I was thinking about tears streaming down my cheeks, and you not stopping, just … taking me, until you get what you want, and you come.”

I bow my head a little to find her mouth by feel in the dark bedroom. “I like to use you like that,” I say. She nods. “Let’s play later.” She nods again, pulls closer to me.

This story contains Daddy/girl roles in sex play, some domination and submission, and lots of tender loving care. Continue reading with that knowledge, don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Later, after she makes lunch because I order her to, because I still have a hard time letting anyone do anything for me, so it feels possibly okay to let her when I order her to do so, when I can put the parameters on what she does, after she does her work, after I set my three MITs and accomplish them all, we head back into the bedroom to play.

I sit on the bed, she comes close to me and we kiss, the kind of tender kiss for reunited lovers after a week of travel. Sweet and slow. I am going to be sweet, tender, loving (I tell myself): the domination will come from verbal command and compliance.

She lifts her thin tee shirt (an old one of mine, actually, Ladyfest East in New York City from 2001) and my mouth is at nipple-height so of course I suck. She cradles my head a little, cooing, and sometimes she makes me feel young doing this, sometimes it is all about nurturing me, but this time I won’t linger here long.

I want her on her knees in front of me. It’s been quite a while since she sucked me off properly.

I kiss her again, gripping her upper arms and she tightens, gasps. She likes to be restrained. “I want you to take your pants off,” I say, knowing full well she’s wearing nothing underneath, “and get on your knees while I get my cock on.”

She is quiet and small and knows she can’t go until I release her. “Yes, Daddy,” she says.

I grin, kiss her again. “Good girl. Use that blanket to kneel on.”

She does, and is in place before I have even undone my zipper. I need something in the other room so I come up behind her and cup her chin, her ass in the other. “I have to go get”—something—the other lamp, since my bedside table lamp died, and the overhead is too bright? I think that was it—”I want you to wait here for me. Keep your hands behind your back. Can you do that?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

I come back a minute later and she’s still in place, one hand holding the opposite wrist. I mess with the room ambiance, put on my cock, perch on the bed in front of her.

Bringing her mouth next to mine with a grip on the back of her head, I say, “Thank you, baby. You can use your hands on my cock now. I just didn’t want you to touch yourself while I was gone.” I reach down and slide a finger between her lips; she’s wet, swollen already. I like for her to wait for me, like to play these games.

She moans a little, breathy. As I kiss her again, fingers on her clit now. “I didn’t, Daddy, I didn’t touch myself. But my pussy got all wet anyway.” This she says a little apologetically.

“It’s okay, baby, that feels good. You gonna suck it now?” It was supposed to be a command but came out more as a question, hopefully it didn’t sound quite as desperate as I felt. It’s so easy to betray the dominant persona I am still trying out, putting on, getting right. I am learning to wrangle the desperation and shove it into dominance’s shoes and outfits and speech patterns. Sometimes a channel opens up between the two and it’s a vigorous dance, and that passageway is getting increasingly easy to open.

She ducks down, opens her mouth, tongue flat and wide against the underside of my cock head, looks up at me with her eyes and says, “uh huh,” before closing her lips around it.

She licks, presses it to her tongue, sucks so her cheeks hollow, grips it in her fist and jerks it hard while tonguing the indents at the tip. Swallows it. I leave my hand in her hair, fisting it without pressure to keep my cock in her mouth. That, she did on her own.

Sliding backward on the floor, she arches her back deeper and thrusts her ass into the air. She faces away from the full-length closet door mirrors, but I had a perfect view, and as she sucks me deeper her thighs part and I can see her pussy, slick and wet, and asshole, tight and pink, in the mirror, sometimes with a slight bounce in her hips when she really gets into going up and down on my cock.

She swallows it deep and I moan, feeling it swell and thicken in her mouth. She holds it there, deep, and I feel like she is sucking the breath from me, until she gags and sputters a little, pulls fast back off of it, gulping air and spit, that viscous slick kind from the back of her throat sticky on my cock-head and still a string of it connected to her lips.

Grinning and humming and swallowing, her hand still on my cock, jerking me. I pull her up to me, smear her wet lips across her mouth, kiss her hard. “Careful,” I say.

“I like it,” she grins wickedly. “I like when it goes too deep. I like it, Daddy.”

“I know baby. Go easy.” We kiss again, her mouth swollen and wet, my cock throbbing. I would have to fuck her soon. “Do it again, you little cocksucker, do it more, don’t stop.”

She does: dives back down, back arching, head low, and I watch her ass in the mirror while I start rocking my hips to get my cock on that sweet spot on her tongue, down her throat. She gulps and comes up for air once, twice, forgetting to breathe, sometimes holding her breath, smiling at me, mouth open, lips still touching my cock. She sucks it down again, fingers wrapped around the shaft. I moan, breath heavy, hands and fingers pulling strong like I am ready to grab her by the hair and slam her backward to face fuck her until I come. This is where she takes me, this is where she likes me, in this state of desperation funneling and transforming into dominance.

I pull her up quick, grabbing her upper arms hard. “Get up on the bed,” I say, fast, low. “Now.”

She stumbles to her feet, I push her back as soon as she’s standing. “Spread your legs.” She’s got her arms up protectively against her chest, instinctively, hands to her mouth, quiet, eyes wide, waiting for me, a little nervous, moving deliberately and slow. I know sometimes I scare her when I take too much. I breathe, try to slow down, place myself gently on top of her as I slip one arm under her neck and hold my cock, guide it toward her cunt with the other hand, bring my mouth down gently to kiss her, hold her tight in my arms.

“Did I make you feel good?”

“Yes, baby.”

“Did I … make your cock all big and hard?”

“Yes.” I find her slit with my cock and press in just an inch, two, then shift my arm to hold her leg up with my inner elbow against her shin, rocking her back a little, opening her thighs, my cock sliding in deeper as I press myself close to her.

“Are you going to put it in my little pussy now?”

“You want me to?”

“Yes, yes, put it in.”

“Put it where?”

“In my pussy. Put it in my pussy.”

“Put what in your pussy?”

“Your cock. Please, Daddy.”

“Say it again.”

“Put your cock in my pussy … ”

“Please?”

“Please! Put your big cock in my little pussy, please, Daddy, please.” By now I’m already thrusting in and out of her, slow and slick with her spit all over my cock and her wet cunt. Still, I sit back and reach for lube, without pulling my cock out, smear it all over the shaft and on as much of the head as I can. I want to be sure I can fuck her hard. I slide my knees up under her thighs, cock hard in my hand, and slide it in deep and full.

I don’t slow down, now. Shove it in again harder and my clit thrusts against the strap of the harness. “Is this what you wanted? To be my little hole to fuck?” I growl in her ear as I fuck harder. She starts thrashing and squirming and I hold her down by her arms, fingers digging in to the soft parts, hoping they will bruise. Sometimes they do.

She winces a little. “It’s big, Daddy.”

“That’s what you told me you wanted, isn’t it. My big cock, fucking you hard.” I whisper low in her ear, thrusting in and out of her hard.

“It’s big,” she whispers again.

“Yeah, and your pussy feels so good, mm.”

“That feels good, Daddy? Your cock feels good in my little girl pussy?”

Harder, getting closer. “Yes.” Grunting.

“I like it when you put it in me hard like that.”

“Mmm.”

“Put it in me hard, Daddy, fuck my little pussy. Use it up, take me, just do what you want with me …” She lets her mouth go in words and I love what comes out.

“That’s my girl, yeah, baby that feels good.”

“I’m your girl, daddy, use me up, use me up.” She starts repeating things, whimpering, tensing underneath me, even crying a little, face pinching, and I don’t let up, she winces a little but grips onto my back to keep her leverage against me, moans as I get harder and pound deep, she can’t really keep talking, getting fucked like this, but she tries, whispering, “do it, do it,” and “more Daddy more” as I come in three, four deep thick thrusts, feeling myself empty into her, gasping, grunting, mouth open, then spent.

I collapse on her a little, breathing hard. I don’t usually come so fast. I hold her close, kiss her face, as the tension drains from me and my heart slows, stops desperately pumping blood to keep up and calms, smiling.

We take a few minutes to hold each other tight and breathe, kiss, relax, then I lift my head, say, “You okay?” She is. I already know. I want to hear it from her, though.

“Yes, oh yes,” she answers immediately. “You know how sometimes I cry and it’s hard and not okay, but sometimes I cry and it’s just release and intense? That’s how it was the whole time. I was fine.”

“Good.” I settle back in next to her.

“I like it when you … treat me like that.”

“Me too.” I know, oh do I know, how lucky I am.

Related:

• Thursday, April 2, 2009 -- My slutty little girl.
• Tuesday, March 31, 2009 -- Her dirty talk got me off. Twice.
• Friday, February 27, 2009 -- What we did on Valentine’s Day
• Wednesday, January 7, 2009 -- A Quick Fuck in a Shadowed Corner
• Tuesday, June 30, 2009 -- Review: Randy, The New Big Cock

Thank you so much to all who voted and all who mentioned me in the promotions … I’m honored and humbled and promise to keep up the sex and erotica writing. I was a finalist along with my fabulous femme friend Essin’ Em and the lovely lady behind Scintillectual, who I don’t actually know, but I’m certainly going to be reading now. Both blogs are excellent. Jeez, I am so glad to see the abundance of butch and femme and genderqueer and queer sex blogs out there! Nearly four years ago, when I started Sugarbutch, there were very few queer sex blogs.

The competition was fierce this year, and the final winners are all heavy hitters. If you don’t read ‘em regularly, you’re missing out.

Best Entertainment: Dorothy Surrenders
Best Humor: Grace the Spot
Best Parenting: Up Popped a Fox
Best Engagement/Wedding: My Big Fat Gay Wedding
Best Feminist/Political: Feministing
Best Personal: Peaches & Coconuts
Best Out Later in Life: Making Space
Best Sex/Short Story/Erotica: Sugarbutch Chronicles
Best New Lesbian Blog: Autostraddle
Best Podcast: The Lesbian Lounge
Lifetime Achievement: AfterEllen.com

Sincere thanks to all who voted, thanks specifically to Kelly who runs The Lesbian Lifestyle. I continue to be amazed and touched by the support for and the recognition of this site and my efforts, thank you so much for being a part of these larger communities of queer, feminist, sex, and gender explorations.

Related:

• Thursday, February 19, 2009 -- Two Lezzys!? Really!?
• Monday, February 15, 2010 -- Nominate Sugarbutch for a 2009 Lezzy Award!
• Tuesday, January 12, 2010 -- elust #5: Quiet Holiday Version
• Tuesday, December 29, 2009 -- e[lust] #4: Reconciling Butch Top + Feminist in the Top Three!
• Tuesday, December 1, 2009 -- A New Sex Blog Roundup – e[lust]#2

But that is not this relationship.

I am still skittish. I am still prone to explosions of emotion when I get scared. I am still unsure—not so much of her, or of this beautiful shiny strong relationship we are building, but of myself, my own ability to keep myself strong, solid, taken care of, whole.

It comes up again and again, especially lately, since she’s been in crisis and I want to help. I am a helper, and a service top, after all. My job is to take and care (but not caretake). My role is to comfort and protect. And when we both started realizing it was too much, and our parts in that, that I took on too much responsibility for her well-being and that she was leaning on me too much and not taking care of herself, I was left unsure of my standing.

What does she need me for, if she doesn’t need me for this?

Then came the silence, and look we stumbled upon another one of my many triggers: withdrawing. And we discovered containment doesn’t mean withdraw, and that I still need to learn how to listen without giving advice.

I need to remember who it is I am dating: her, this girl, only her, not any of my exes. How does one undo triggers, once they’re found? Or will they just always be there, like an old skiing injury, something to be constantly aware of and work around?

I need to remember this, rely on it: here are the things she and I are particularly good at:

1. Telling each other, as openly, kindly, and honestly as possible, how we feel about where we’re coming from
2. Taking responsibility for the parts that we own, and not blaming the other person
3. Being totally willing to work on ourselves individually, and the relationship
4. Being quick, thorough, vigilant learners, willing to do extensive research to get somewhere faster

I have never had any of these things, truthfully, in practice, in previous relationships, though I and my exes have often given lip service to many of them. Some of that was certainly my fault—it really is only recently that I was capable of executing them, the first one especially.

She keeps saying, “we love each other, we’ll get through this,” but that is not as comforting as those four traits, to me. This is about skill, this is about commitment, this is about patience. And yes sure, this is about love, too, and I am way too in love with this gorgeous, fierce, extraordinary person to stop the hard work it may take to get through these growing pains. They are as much mine as they are hers, and when we get through to the other side, we will know each other and ourselves better, we’ll be stronger and have more tools and skills to weather the changing emotional landscapes of love and relationships.

This continues to be a huge opportunity to grow and evolve and unstick the stuck places, and what better way to take that on than with a kind, loving person who knows me practically as well as I know myself? Together we are more than the sum of us separately, together we are stronger, bigger, more capable, more supported, buoyed by the magic strength that is sharing one’s life with another. Nothing cuts through the muscle, the bone, exposing the marrow, like love, does it? There is never so much to lose, so there is never so much to gain; with the highest stakes come the highest rewards.

I know relationships take work. I am willing to do the work, I just have to be certain that the work is worth doing. And perhaps for the first time, really, for the first authentic time, for the first awake and aware and really fully known time, I have someone who knows this takes work, who is certain the work is worth doing, and who is willing to do the work to be with me, too.

Related:

• Friday, September 18, 2009 -- Inner Kingdom
• Tuesday, September 1, 2009 -- The Risk it Takes to Blossom: Summer Into Fall
• Thursday, March 11, 2010 -- How Do I Let Go of a Past Hurt?
• Friday, March 5, 2010 -- Desperation & Dominance
• Friday, December 26, 2008 -- letter to a friend

Voting runs from February 22nd at 12:00 pm EDT to 12:00 am EDT March 2nd.

I’m listed up with some freakin’ amazing sites, many of which are my regular reads. First up, my buddy Jesse James is up in TWO categories—Humor and Personal. Dorothy Surrenders is up in Entertainment/Culture, as well as AutoStraddle and Fit For a Femme. And of course my favorite funny-because-it’s-true blog, Grace the Spot, is up for the Humor category. I haven’t read any of the Parenting or Engagement/Wedding blogs except for my good buddies Lesbian Dad and Don’t Let’s Talk, but I am loving checking out the others! Then of course there’s Sexuality Happens by Essin’ Em up against me (gulp!) in the Sex/Short Story/Erotica category, and my buddy Harrison at How To Be Butch in the New Lesbian Blog category and Dear Diaspora in Feminist/Political.

That’s a lot. It’s a great list of strong writers, check out ALL the finalists! And remember, vote DAILY until March 2nd at midnight EST. (Make sure you click the confirmation link in your email after you vote, or it won’t count!)

VOTE on TheLesbianLifestyle.com!

Related:

• Monday, February 15, 2010 -- Nominate Sugarbutch for a 2009 Lezzy Award!
• Sunday, June 7, 2009 -- Vote for the lesbian film “Pariah”
• Thursday, February 19, 2009 -- Two Lezzys!? Really!?
• Monday, February 2, 2009 -- The Lezzys are here!
• Wednesday, November 5, 2008 -- post-election: on love

Bil just said in a recent post that “[t]ens of thousands of people attend each year. My understanding though, they’ve never had a session that was explicitly queer.” Huhwhut? Seriously? Whoa. I didn’t realize that.

Feast of Fun is one of the most popular LGBT podcasts on the entire interwebs, and Bil recently was a guest, talking about the power of the group blog. I may be a special guest sometime soon too … will let you know!

I mentioned before that I was going to try to do a Sugarbutch meetup on the evening of the 13th (Saturday), but I just found out that Fausto is organizing a queer tweetup meetup at Oil Can Harry’s—apparently Austin’s oldest gay bar—on Sunday, March 14th at 9pm, so the four of us are going to co-host a little gathering. Come out and say hi, meet some folks, get some free drinks!

So that means there won’t be a Sugarbutch meetup on the night of the 13th. Sorry about that, I hope that’s still possible for all you folks who saw my last mention and said that you wanted to come by to still make it.

Details!

Engaging The Queer Community
Saturday, March 13 at 03:30 PM

A discussion on maintaining successful and active blogs and social networking sites that are geared toward the LGBT community and its niches.

Presenters:

Trish Bendix - MTV/AfterEllen.com
Bil Browning - Bilerico Project
Fausto Fernos - Feast of Fun (moderator)
Sinclair Sexsmith - Sugarbutch Chronicles

SXSW Queer Blogger Tweetup
Sunday, March 14 at 9pm
OilCan Harry’s
211 West 4th Street (walking distance from the conference)
Austin, Texas

• Live tweetup using hashtag #sxswgay
• Free wifi available
• Your favorite viral videos from 2009 playing on the bar’s TVs
• T-shirt and merchandise giveaways
• Free drinks to all SXSW attendees and people who follow Oil Can Harry’s on twitter @oilcanharrys or show their SXSW pass.

Related:

• Wednesday, January 27, 2010 -- SXSW and Austin-bound in March

If you’d like to RSVP for the event via Facebook, please do.

LSM Presents: Gendering Power: How to Spice Up Your Role Play
with Sinclair Sexsmith

Where: LGBT Center, 208 West 13th Street (bet 7th and 8th Ave.)
When: Friday, February 19, 2010 at 8:00-10:00PM
Cost: $5/LSM members, $10/Non members
Who: Women & trans folks only

Perhaps gender roles are just a construct. But that doesn’t mean they’re not hot! Lots of queers come to our own unique expressions of gender, and it can be a powerful way to explore many sides of ourselves with each other. Adding gender dynamics to sex play can encourage self-discovery, to solidify or express identities which are budding, or to further express identities already in progress. In this interactive workshop we will explore the addition and power of gender roles in sexual role play scenarios to increase desire, vulnerability, self-knowledge, and intimacy. Bring a pen and your notebook, we’ll do some writing exercises to get us thinking.

Related:

• Monday, February 15, 2010 -- Bulldyke Chronicles, Saturday 2/20/10 in NYC
• Friday, February 5, 2010 -- Introducing: Mr. Sexsmith’s Other Girlfriend
• Friday, February 5, 2010 -- Lesbian Sex Mafia Workshop! Gendering Power 2/19
• Thursday, December 10, 2009 -- Kiss & Tell on Tuesday, Dec 15 in NYC
• Monday, December 7, 2009 -- Visions of Sexual Freedom

For example:

One of the reasons I don’t really like sex in public is because of the other people who may witness it. Some people find the getting caught part the part that is thrilling, and some folks find the threat of getting caught (though not actually getting caught) thrilling. I do like being in such lust and desire that you can’t keep your hands off the one you’re with long enough to get home and really have to take them, have to have them, right now, right here, but I don’t want that to have anything to do with being in public or potentially watched by strangers, because the strangers are not consenting. No matter how sex-positive (or sex-negative) they might be, they are not consenting to seeing someone else having sex right now, right here, and I guess that I feel like doing it, then, is a little bit rude.

Now, consenting strangers, like at a sex party? Sure. No problem. I’m glad to have sex in front of other people, though I’m more of a voyeur than I am an exhibitionist, I do like showing off my partner and what she can do, how she looks, how I can make her scream and gasp and cry and come.

When I perform at a reading series and decided to read some erotica, I try always to warn folks at the beginning of the reading, to tell them what the content will be (just broadly—a blow job, some fucking—without ruining the “plot,” of course). Sometimes one is just not in the mood to listen to explicit sex, certainly I am not in the mood sometimes, and have been at events where someone busts into some really explicit sex (or violence, or something else a bit controversial) and often the audience gets very uncomfortable. It’s not that I don’t sometimes want the audience to be uncomfortable, when listening to my work, or that I think anyone who has a problem with sex should necessarily leave if given a warning, just that it’s easier to kind of brace yourself if you have some vague expectation of what’s upcoming.

This consent obsession happens in my own apartment, too. I noticed it just recently, when I was, yet again, shushing Kristen as we were fucking, probably in the morning, possibly when either my roommate was around or when my new neighbors with their young child were loud enough to hear through the walls. I know my roommate knows that I have a lot of sex, and I know he doesn’t really mind, but still, I try to be respectful.

I was discussing this with Kristen a little bit lately, this particular one about being quiet when we have sex at my place, and she pushed me a little to think about it. Especially in terms of the neighbors. “That’s just something that happens in New York City apartments,” she shrugged. The walls are thin, we live close together, cramped in this big ol’ city. And sheesh, there are way worse sounds to hear than your neighbors having good sex—hell, maybe they’re pervy enough to really like hearing their neighbors get it on, and it ends up inspiring them to have sex, too. Sometimes I really do let it get in the way of really letting go when we’re fucking, and I don’t want that to happen.

(Hey look, Sinclair is putting other people’s perceived—not even actual!—needs in front of her own. Surprise, surprise. Yeah, working on it.)

I’ve been noticing this lately in terms of my email inboxes, too. I have a public email inbox, and twitter stream, and thus sometimes I get things in my inbox that I don’t consent to, that I don’t ask for, from products and ads and offers to hate mail. One of the things about email is that it’s really hard to receive an email, see who it’s from, see the subject line, and then either not open it or delete it without reading it, and thus I have ended up reading all sorts of things that I didn’t really want to. I’ve kept this in mind when sometimes writing long sappy emails to my exes in my mind, too, thinking, are they consenting to receiving this email? Do they want to hear from me? It’s different to send a note saying, hey, thinking of you, hope you are well, verses sending a two-page long story-of-my-life and pouring-my-heart-out emotional letter.

Perhaps it’s a form of containment.

That’s not to say that I don’t love and appreciate the occasional emails in my inbox about my work, folks pouring out their hearts and emotions and sex lives, telling me about gender and their partners or exes and how my work has changed how they are relating to their relationship, sex, or gender issues. I do love that. I’m so glad my work isn’t going out there into some big black void. And I know that when I reveal this kind of personal stuff about my own gender, sexuality, sex life, relationship, and emotional life, it makes it easier to open up about yours in response, and I cherish that opening. It’s inspiring and beautiful and I love that kind of connection with other folks.

I suppose that’s just one of the side effects of having a public email address—and I’m starting to really envy folks like Leo Babauta of Zen Habits and Havi Brooks of The Fluent Self who have shut down their email inboxes entirely. I know that wouldn’t exactly solve the problem, and I do like to have a place where folks can write to me. And the only thing I can do about this is to note the ways that I sometimes throw things in other people’s inboxes that they don’t consent to, and be aware of that.

I still have my own issues with trusting the agency of my partner, too. My relationship with Kristen was kinda tough over the holidays, and one of the things that came out of that was some distrust on my part of the D/s dynamic that I’d come to love and cherish. I second-guessed myself and her to the point that I wasn’t trusting what either of us were saying, I was (subconsciously or unconsciously) convinced that there was something else I wasn’t seeing, something I didn’t know about that would come bubbling up (again) and … be scary. But, so what if it does? That could certainly happen! There’s always more stuff to figure out that comes up and demands to be dealt with. So what. More and more, I trust that I—and Kristen and I together—have the tools to deal with that stuff, whatever it is. And when I can bring this all into articulation, it’s very clear that I haven’t been trusting our dynamic enough and have needed to relax and let go a little more (instead of gripping tight and trying to keep control and protect and help, yet again).

Maybe my “consent obsession” is slightly more accurately described as an obsession with control—or perhaps that’s related, though not entirely the same, like an overlapping Venn diagram. Regardless, it’s something I notice coming up in various places in my life, and I want to be more aware, mindful, and intentional with what I choose to do with it when it arises.

Related:

• Sunday, January 3, 2010 -- Occasional Effects of D/s
• Friday, February 5, 2010 -- Lesbian Sex Mafia Workshop! Gendering Power 2/19
• Monday, January 11, 2010 -- Articulating What I Need When I Need It
• Monday, December 28, 2009 -- Yes, No, and Consent
• Monday, December 14, 2009 -- Kristen’s Homework

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 20 AT 9:30PM
THE BULLDYKE CHRONICLES
Tickets at the door, $6 (cash only)
Shelly Mars & Kirby (DP’s mascot) offer a night of bull-dyke bullshit, artistry & edgy performances. Shake your tails off. Performing will be Elizabeth Whitney, Lea Robinson, Sinclair Sexsmith, Susan Jeremy, Shelly Mars, and Kirby!

Dixon Place, dixonplace.org
161A Chrystie Street, between Rivington and Delancey

Related:

• Tuesday, November 17, 2009 -- Want to write some smut with me?
• Saturday, October 3, 2009 -- “Whoops! Where’d my job go?”
• Wednesday, November 11, 2009 -- Truer: Sophia Wallace’s work in NYC
• Friday, June 19, 2009 -- Pioneers, Visionaries, Safe Havens, and Glitter
• Monday, April 27, 2009 -- Femmethology Reading on Wednesday in NYC

Nominations will last from February 15-22 at 12:00 am EDT. The top 3 nominated blogs will then go on to the final voting round which will begin on February 22nd at 12:00 pm EDT. If you nominate blogs, you MUST click the confirmation link in your email, otherwise your nominations won’t count!

Here’s the categories this year:

Best Lesbian Entertainment/ Lesbian Culture Blog
Best Lesbian Humor Blog
Best Lesbian Parenting Blog
Best Lesbian Engagement/Wedding Blog *New in 2009
Best Lesbian Feminist/Political Blog
Best Lesbian Personal Blog
Best Lesbian “Out later in life” Blog *New in 2009
Best Lesbian Sex/Short Story/Erotica Blog
Best NEW Lesbian Blog (Posting for a year or less) *New in 2009
Lesbian Blog Lifetime Achievement Award *New in 2009 (This award is replacing the Lesbian Blog of the Year Award. This Award can only be won once. The award represents longevity, excellence, and overall greatness in lesbian blogging. Nominated blogs need to have been posting for a year or more.)
Best Lesbian Podcast *New in 2009

Hmmm … who will I vote for? I’m not sure yet. Probably Lesbian Dad, Just Like Jesse James, Grace the Spot, and Dorothy Surrenders, as they are four of my favorite reads. But who else? Want me (and the Sugarbutch readers) to nominate your blog? Add it in the comments, and tell us which category you’d like to be nominated in. And please, nominate Sugarbutch Chronicles for Best Lesbian Sex/Short Story/Erotica Blog!

Related:

• Thursday, February 19, 2009 -- Two Lezzys!? Really!?
• Friday, March 5, 2010 -- And the Lezzy Goes To …
• Wednesday, February 24, 2010 -- Lezzy Finalist! Vote Daily Until March 2nd!
• Monday, March 2, 2009 -- What happened in February