After the Event

We are home. Unpacked and put away and set back up and relaxing here in our own home again. It feels good.

We had a really good time. I have to admit that I was surprised, as the weekend progressed, to find myself getting into it and enjoying it all. I didn't expect that to happen. The sense of well-being and pleasure that I discovered as we went along grew slowly in me, and I kept looking at it with some suspicion -- just unwilling to believe in it or trust it.

Really, it is important to acknowledge the hard work and vision of those who put this event together. It was spectacularly well done and I almost cannot conceive of the hours and hours and hours of time, the worry and stress, the willingness to take enormous personal and financial risks, and the incredible indomitable optimism and determination that went into making it a reality. Mostly, that energy and drive comes from Barack and Sheba and their cohort of great, dedicated folks. So... hat's off to them all.

Alongside the sense of being happy and content to just be home, there is a coutervailing part of me that wishes that there were a way to host this kind of event over a longer span of time. The two-day, weekend format is exhausting and over with just as I'm beginning to get relaxed and into it all... It takes me a while to decompress from the outside life I live, and the intensity of getting ready to get to something like this. I'm so wired up by the time we arrive that it is nearly impossible for me to simply flip the switch and BE there. I have to slide into it a bit at a time -- something akin to gently easing into a cool pool. It feels to me like I barely reach the point of swimming happily and it is time to pack it all up and haul it home again. If I weren't always totally exhausted by that point, I might work myself into a full on temper tantrum at the unfairness of it all. Sigh.

Now, I have to admit that, especially this time, part of the "slow start" for me was that I truly was not in a good headspace about even going to this thing. I was entirely grumpy and just not able to get excited about the prospect. That was built up out of all sorts of things, some of them real and some of them made up from whole cloth in my ornery psyche. Here's the dismal, moaning internal monologue that I was engaged in before we took off -- best read in your very best imitation of Eyore's voice (no wonder I wasn't excited about going!):

I am a total and complete wimpy masochist, unable to play at anywhere near the level I used to do. I'll embarras Master. I'll embarras myself. The whole dungeon will turn around at the moment that I start shrieking and point and laugh...

I'm old and fat and saggy and ugly and I know -- KNOW -- that everyone else at this thing will be 23, young, perky, nubile, hawt, and horny. I will look and feel like the big, gawky, awkward geek I was in the 8th grade, and there is absolutely nothing I hate worse than feeling like that.

I don't want to meet new people. I don't like people. People suck! These people all know each other and like each other and are all wrapped up with each other. There's really no way into the "in" crowd at one of these things, so why bother?

Who am I kidding? I haven't worn my collar since Thanksgiving, and no one notices one way or another. This is going to feel like some sort of stupid "dress up" game.

I'm not going to pack any of that stupid, fetted-out, slutty dungeon attire. He doesn't care anyway, and it is fucking February -- the place will be cold and miserable, so why bother just so I can freeze my ass off the whole weekend?


Besides, we'll probably get there and we won't even GO to the dungeon. He's gotten way tired and bored with spanking me. Heck -- I got presents and flowers for my birthday, but no birthday spanking. That's never happened in all the years we've been together. What more proof do you need?

None of that silliness was anywhere near the truth of things as they really are or as they really transpired...


The reality is that, we did play in the dungeon, and I wasn't nearly as wimpy as I was afraid I might be. I'm sporting some pretty spectacular bruises, and no one pointed or laughed. We are, all of us, older than some of those who attended Winter Wickedness, but we are not at all "the oldest" attendees. Physically, we are definitely not fashion model gorgeous, but then again, we are also not nearly as heavy, saggy, or odd looking as many others there. The diversity in terms of age, gender identity, family configuration, physical abilities, etc. was really pretty amazing. In the end, it turns out that in that place, it really doesn't matter about age or size or physical beauty. We are there creating something unique and rare together as a community, and the oddest looking ones among us start to look like family by the time the weekend ends. I told Him, as I was packing to leave, that I didn't plan to pack any of that stupid dungeon wear, and He was shocked and appalled. Just the look on His face was enough to change my mind and send me scurrying to rectify that misjudgement. I was glad, in the event, that I had something "suitable" to wear into the dungeon Saturday night. And, I DID wear my collar for this outing -- and it felt good to have it back on. I don't know what gets into my head when I stop wearing it. I know that I get convinced that it isn't something that anyone cares about but me, and that putting it on and taking it off is just a bit of silly posturing that doesn't mean anything. Even if it were true that no one cares but me, maybe I need to learn that if I care, that is good enough. Finally, He was excited and proud to have me there in the dungeon. He wrote in His commments from the event: "I was hugely proud of my swan as she bottomed during our session." He played with me in precisely the way He used to do, and though I struggled to process the intensity of the sensations, I was thrilled and proud to be His. I know that I slept very well after we played, easier in my mind for all the aches and bruises.

So. Another BDSM event. I have mixed feelings.

I am feeling good about my own experiences and my own learning and growth. I am thrilled to have had the time away with the family. At the same time, I am troubled by aspects of the weekend.

Part of the intent in the staging of this event was to step up a notch or two and take a BDSM event to a nice venue. It was supposed to be an affirmation that we are not bad people and that we deserve to be accommodated just as any other group might be. I don't know for sure, but I think the organizers were sincerely trying to respond to comments that we made here after attending COPE in 2007. Certainly, the hotel venue was nicer than what we've experienced before. Sadly, the difficulties created by the nasty vitriol spewed out by the Christian wing-nuts who opposed our being there, forced some pretty dismal reactions that sent a clear message -- we aren't "good" enough to be able to meet here -- we have to hide or we'll be attacked.

I am unsettled in my mind about the implications of the "blacked out" windows and the extreme security measures. I know they kept us safe from the molestations of those who would judge and harrass and seek to deprive us of our rights. Still, I wonder why it is that an Elks convention or a gathering of the Rotary Club isn't forced to cover all the windows and post security guards at the doors. Why are such as these not subjected to inspections by the fire marshall and the health department and the police? I know from my own business/corporate convention experiences that there is ample lewd and lasviscious behavior at such gatherings. What makes "whoring around" with the Shriner's somehow more pure and virtuous than a bunch of us gathering to deliberately and intentionally explore our eroticism and orientations in a consensual and safe setting?

I am thrilled that our family was able to enjoy the delights of a really fine restaurant meal experience together -- a huge splurge that was quite the treat. We ate well, and were treated delightfully by the wait staff, who very quickly tumbled to who we were and were open and honestly curious about our experiences. On the other hand, it distresses me that so many others opted for the hotel buffet, or pizza delivery rather than risk being "seen" and possibly harrassed out in public. Why shouldn't we all have been able to go out for a fine meal together without fear of reprisal or discrimination?

I don't know the answers. Surely, we didn't want any trouble for ourselves, personally, in connection with our attendance at Winter Wickedness. We would have been damaged had we been identified publicly as participants there, or if the place had been raided, and we'd been arrested. We live our lives caught in between the "vanilla" world where we work and make our livings, and the "kinky" world where we express our erotic and sensual reality. It angers me that the social conventions are so narrow as to banish us to the dark corners and the hidden, stolen weekend gatherings. That anger does not diminish and it never goes away. I don't know how to bring about the change that would allow "people like us" to live as full citizens in this society, but I'm clear that this will never be a just society until that day comes.

swan