I had occasion today to enjoy a quiet moment in a hotel room high up above the city, idly gazing upon a broad swath of terrain from the cold blue of the Bay to the fog-lapped crests of Twin Peaks.

Meandering thoughts mostly disconnected...some deceptively so...were doing their best to distract me from remaining in the moment.

I was exhausted from the previous night.  Thursday was the opening ceremony and show for the International Ms. Leather Contest, and I'd spearheaded a campaign to have my employer represented by sponsoring one of the many "Receptions" that this event offers to attendees. This is a fairly low-bandwidth way to do Community Outreach among the Leatherfolk, and as one of the handful of kinky people at my company, I'm in a unique position to cross the streams, so to speak, and have my day-job find its rightful place in the BDSM community.

However, I hadn't anticipated being physically exhausted and having a voice-over recording that same day. It was going to be a pretty exhausting end to the week, and I was near tears several times on Thursday.

Ain't nothing like being in the midst of Bloody Abdominal Injustice while having to haul around cases of water and wine and bags of snacks.

Thankfully I had a co-worker (Yaaaay!) who was also volunteering at IMsL, and she was there to keep things going.

Somehow, we did it.

Of course, we had everything set up and ready to go, free schwag primed, and then...no one showed up.

We sat for 10 minutes, 25 minutes.

A few people trickling in mentioned that the opening show was still going, and that many attendees were still there, and that was why the reception wasn't filling up.

But when it did, boy howdy, did it ever!

Old habits die hard and I snapped into the smile-on-the-face-super-attentive-chatting-and-laughing-party-hostess...make sure the cheese is out and the chips are there and the bottles are open and there is enough wine and cheese and...and...and...

Fret not. We rocked it. Everyone was pleased.

Several people who had joined me for my recent class on "Race Play" were in attendance, and took a moment to tell me that not only did they think the class was important for the community, but that they were personally grateful, to me, for doing it.

Their timing couldn't have been more critical, because not long before that I'd learned of some less-than-optimal reactions that some people are airing publicly.

People who don't know me, who haven't heard what I have to say. Or, in one case, someone who took my words and torqued them into a most damaging and fearsome misrepresentation of my reality.

And then we have the nauseating nadir: people who openly threaten violence if they ever were to walk into a play party and see a race play scene happening.

Pardon me if I take this shit personally.

It is tough enough to find play-partners because I am a shy freak and exceedingly picky, selective and intimidation resistant.

And now, am I supposed to tell a prospective play-partner than he or she may be subject to rude speech, threats of confrontation or even physical assault simply for playing with me?

Really???

Well, it is convenient then that my play partners tend to be really...really big! And trained in martial arts and strapped with stun guns...and with sharp pointy teeth...so there! 

Sigh.

Yes, I acknowledge that it may be bluster and bullshit.

But the more I sort through this, the more I wonder what the fuck is up with my fellow perverts.

I wonder what about this not uncommon fantasy it so dangerous it drives people to threaten physical violence.

And I wonder why none of these people actually care to be open, and interact with me.

No, I know why.

It is easier to scream from your perch of fear than it is to try to settle in and confront your own demons on someone else's terms.  Because I think differently than others, and there is a chance you might see me as human, your Comfy Throne of Righteous Indignation now teeters on the edge of reason.

Is it so hard to empathize?

I'll say it here and loud and clear.

If you hear some crazy bullshit about me, and you aren't sure whether or not it is accurate, you know who the fucking authority on Mollena is?

OK, aside from God...

Ya, that would be me.  I've been stuck in here for almost 40 years:  I know my way around, and I give frequent tours. Stop and and have a cup and I'll tell you what is going on, OK?

As I stood behind the improvised bar at the party, I managed (I think) to be welcoming and I smiled and introduced myself to as many people as I could. Many old friends were there, and it was lovely to catch up. Hopefully no one could hear my insides whimpering and feeling clumsydumboutofplacecrampyexhaustednervous and anxious.

At one point I overheard and adjacent conversation in bits and starts. There were several Black woman gazing at me intently, and I overheard "Mo Williams..." and "Yeah, she did the "Race Play Class..." and I tensed up. I couldn't tell from their expressions what their take on that was. 

We were formally introduced and they said that they were sorry to have missed the class, and that they had initially planned on coming to see it, but couldn't make it. Thing is, they aren't local. They were planning on coming form Canada to see the class. I confess I was very taken aback and nervous. I had wild fantasies of a squad of Black Domme Avenging Secret Agents sent to take me out for setting back the evolution of our people.

But that wasn't quite it.

I chatted with them a bit, and as it was a rather loud and busy party, it wasn't conducive to a more private discussion. But we made a date to chat for a bit the next day.

I hope to talk further, possibly, about working with these folks in terms of BDSM oriented education.  They had done their homework and had some really provocative questions for me about my classes, my approach, myself.

Plus, damn, they are so cool!

But something else....it was a new sensation for me. With all due respect to all of my friends of all ethnic and racial backgrounds, something new has happened for me in the past few months. I am experiencing  a strong redemption for me in having other Black Women REALLY SEE ME and tell me I am OK. I spent almost an hour re-connecting with a woman of many years acquaintance, and have a new respect for both of our struggles as outsiders among outsiders.

This is another benefit of being openly fucked up. Other people who feel like you, outlier, find you and share their struggles and then you aren't alone anymore.

But this is new, feeling specifically connected with Black women. Women here in SF, in Arizona, in DC,  in Chicago...and it is shocking to me.  This is many, many years coming.

Truth?

I have been consistently rejected by many of  my "Sisters" for my entire life. Even the gossamer illusory kinship pf BDSM gave me nothing but chimeric rapport. And that heat mirage disappeared, all to often, when the going got weird.

I feared derision, scorn and rejection from other Black women.

That sucks. A lot.

How much of a fucking gift, and a startling one, to now find women who look like me meeting me in the eye and speaking with respect for my humanity.

This is...I don't know precisely what to say.

I don't know what it means yet. But it is changing my life.

....because I did.

My brains have been doing some kind of revolutionary rumba, but I think this will be a good thing.

I feel a lot of my day to day details are on Twitter and my perving thoughts are on my Kink Blog so I am trying to see where and if I am going to keep blogging here.

Not sure about that.

My trip to Arizona was interesting. The lady I stayed with was simply delightful.  But due to some politics and I suppose the "economy", the day long class was very poorly attended. Even though I got over a dozen messages from people who said there were going to try to make it, and a dozen more from people who were all sorry that they couldn't, bus assured me it was going to be awesome as everyone was so excited. Even though "the economy" was a known factor when I was booked and they could well have dropped the price and therefore increased the attendance…but, no worries.

I had a good time. The people who did attend all had very very supportive and kind things to say.

The Monday night class was quite well attended and even more people say really great stuff.

I have to say I really love teaching, and feel as though I have begun to understand a great deal about what teaching IS.

I don't have to feel "less than" because I haven't written a book (yet) and because I am not teaching how to tie up titties. I can tell stories. I do that very well. Stories that help people to understand something about my experience, and draw them in in a way that lets them find the communal bond between my experience and their experience, or my experience and their inexperience. It is kind of amazing. A pedagogic model isn't my bag, but parables have been the shit throughout human history.

I got my ovaries together and tossed my hat in the ring for a few more gigs. One I was too late for but got a really awesome message from an amazing community leader type person, the other few I still await a response, so at least it wasn't a downright outright no.

I was invited to be a speaker at a kink event. This is really, really cool, and seems to be happening more frequently, which is SUPER cool.

This one is in Denver. It is called Denver Bound. It is a smaller event, and they have an interesting setup. They have a few people come and do a very intensive weekend, 4-5 classes each over the 3 day period.

Last year, it was 4 rope bondage rigger types.

Um....yeah.

You can see where I am going with this.

I checked, and yes, it is a rope-bondage intensive.  I asked the organizer if he was sure he was asking the right person? He said emphatically yes.

But what the fuck do I know about rope bondage?  Dammit Jim, I'm a submissive, not a gearhead!

I'm not a rope bondage teacher.  

I have certainly demoed in rope bondage classes. But not all that often, because the desire to see fat girls tied up isn't high. Bondage demo modles are, I'd say 98% of the time, slender.  This is also a function of the fat that heavier people are not always so comfortable being in front of a room full of people trussed up and hanging from some shit.  I am always pleasantly surprised when I see a fat person bottiming in a rope demo class or presentation.

Unless the class is about tying up fat people. 

Most of the time, as demo bottoms, we're props.  Interestingly, my first glimmer of a desire to and a possible capacity for teaching in the Kink community was when I was bottoming during a rope demo and someone asked if it was OK to ask me a question. David said yes, it was, so there I was with about the ball of one foot on the floor, arms behind my back, talking about what that was like.  This is where acting skill is really an amazing tool.  The "me" in bondage became the character I was dissecting at the time and the "me"" who always is was able to do a character breakdown simultaneously.

Blah blah blah.  This will probably wind up an interesting post for my kink blog. But for here, I am really just hashing out the question of "What do bottoms have to say about bondage?"

I immediately came up with one topic: "Beautiful Victim: Negotiating, Communicating and Illuminating your Submission."  It would be around self-expression for bottoms, and help for tops and dominants in eliciting those wonderful connections and reactions that so many crave. 

I thought also a class that taught about warm-up, processing and cool down, on a physical level, would be great.
I chatted a bit yesterday with a friend (Hi HI!) who brainstormed with me on another angle: that of a whole "From the Bottom:" series of classes.  A discussion and exploration as to why bottoms enjoy rope bondage, what happens emotionally when you are going into, coming out of, and after....some of the reasons people love or avoid it, etc.

I am supposed to come up with 4-5 topics.  The meat of the class is the easy part. I can pull a 2 hour show out of my ass.  This part is easy.
 
But if you have any thoughts, form the top or bottom side, as to what you haven't seen taught or often discussed at Leather events, suggestions are welcome!

And if you are Non-Kink-Identified, that which might pique your curiosity also helps me to hash through this.

Come to think of it, this is really an awesome kind of challenge to which I gotta step up :-)

The more of us out there spreading the perv, and doing it well, the more we can gain a higher profile and have solid educational, thought-provoking, titillating and entertaining information out in the world!

Peace

~Mollena
 

I attended a Munch this afternoon that I would call my "Home Munch". It is the direct descendant of the first Munch I attended. Warts and all, I have attended this munch, with greater and lesser regularity, for 11 years or so.

Today I stood to introduce myself at the Munch, as is the custom at this event.

After a slew of people introducing themselves as "Bi-Poly-Switch", one.....after.....the.....other. I stood and introduced myself with some humor, and then got to my "Box-O-Labels" and referred to myself as a service oriented submissive slave and...pause...Monogamous...

And then several peopled booed. Booed and jeered.

I was stunned but, as is my way, I tried to turn to the humor. "Hey, don't hate. Step up to the plate." That got laughs.

I am always about getting the laugh. Sometimes at the expense of my feelings.

Because it made me feel mocked, hopeless and depressed.

I get that it is unlikely any of these folks meant harm.

But what if a new person was sitting there and saw someone known to the group laughed at for being monogamous?

How does that further push the idea that monogamy is uncool? That people will laugh at you for wanting one partner?

I am not even a hard-line monogamist. I think that it can be cool to play with other people: known quantities and friends. I would also be fine NOT playing with anyone else if I had a partner who wished that to be our dynamic.

I am hardly a person to scold people when they make a joke at my expense.

But some jokes are hurtful. And some jeers can wound.