I count myself very lucky to live in an area where doms and subs of both genders can feel free to play and express themselves, and recieve emotional support from a community of peers. It does make a great difference.

I have noticed an unfortunate phenomenon among people whose sexuality is radically different from the societal norm, and who grow up in isolated communities without the support of any kind of peer group. They are often deeply wounded in their sense of self, and shame and guilt and self-loathing is at their core. They feel ashamed of themselves and of their special sexuality, and they have no words for the pain that they feel whenever they are driven by their own tormented urges to do the forbidden things of their dreams.

I ache when I see people like that. Too many of them come to me as clients, and I cannot heal their wounds in an hour, as much as I try. All I can do is to give them solace in what they seek, comfort them with a human touch when the session is done, and try to be a positive and healthy role model of a person who is living happily and comfortably with her own special sexuality.

This is why I hold Munches, and why I refer my clients to groups like Janus and QSM as a matter of course, even though I lose many of them that way. I count it a better gain when an emotionally crippled and guilt-ridden client learns to become a friend and a BDSM community member who is happy and proud in his sexuality. Money is just what pays the bills and keeps this House going enough so that I *can* do these things; it is absolutely nothing compared to human lives and to the difference between pain and joy for as many people as I can possibly make that difference for.

I can't do it for them all. I hurt for the ones who aren't ready, and who turn away from the open arms and the welcome I want to extend to the community. They do their professional sessions with me, get dressed without meeting my eyes, and they go. I know the pain and fear inside of them, and I would take it from them if I could. But the burdens of many years of being told by parents and society that your special and different sexuality is terrible, awful, sick, disgusting and an object of shame are not so easily lifted, and in pure self-defense, you build walls of stone around yourself until even a kindly voice cannot be heard through, and a hand extended in friendship cannot be grasped.

But I keep trying, and perhaps I give them a little something extra with each session. A word of encouragement, a reassurance that they are not alone in their feelings, living proof that you can be happy and emotionally healthy living a BDSM lifestyle. And someday, maybe enough nurturing gets through to them that a Munch invitation will be accepted, or they will go to a QSM class and learn that there are other people like themselves who care very much about safety and about each other. And in time, their wounds may be healed.

This is WIITWD. This is the essence of the BDSM community; joining together, binding our wounds and finding health and healing in play and mutual support. Some of us are less wounded than others; some are hardly hurt at all, and we enjoy the play and cameraderie and support and socializing without needing it on as deep a level. Some of us are genuinely in pain, whether from growing up as different, from traumas unresolved, or simply because we're human and it's a part of life.

We can take and use the healing energy of BDSM play, of learning to express feelings and to honor those parts of us we normally would never show to another soul. We can be little boys or girls, dress up in clothes, roleplay different endings to the stories that shaped our lives, reclaim our pain and our joy and own it in a consensual scene, let out all the feelings that our mommies and daddies told us were never OK. And we can do it safely and with our consenting partners, bringing harm to no one and healing and pleasure to all.

This is not sick. This is not "perverted". This is genuine health, and we deserve from ourselves respect and recognition for our courage in exploring the boundaries, not shame or guilt or fear. Most of all, we deserve love. We deserve to love ourselves, and to love those parts of ourselves that are different and special, and which the outside world may condemn out of bigotry and ignorance.

If you are among the wounded, take these words and engrave them somewhere on a corner of your heart: Your Kink Is OK. You Are OK. Don't let the hatred and bigotry of those who are fearful of what they do not understand get inside of you and hurt there; know it for what it is and keep it on the outside. Our armor against that hatred is the joy we can take in each other, and knowing that however seperated we are by distances, we are ultimately part of the same BDSM family.

With warm holiday wishes to my family - all of you.