Before AIDS: Paul Wegman as Miss P

Follow the Manic Bouncing Ball:

Needing to sleep again. Feeling the jolts of electricity that were not so conducive to sleep. I put on Amazon Prime’s 80’s music to sleep by. About the 3rd song in was Bette Midler’s The Rose.”

Memories of my days at the Parliament House here in Orlando with all my gay boy friends (& sex-capaders) watching drag shows flooded my brain.

It was 1979. I was 18 years old. And I was a Fag Hag.
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Parliament House, circa 1979 – Hotel, Restaurant, Show Bar, Disco, Leather Bar, Vintage Store, Lake and Pool (and hotbed of random sex!)

Quaaludes. Poppers. Sex with strangers in cars. Amaretto with cream and OJ. Friends taking acid & having bad trips. Walking by rooms with open curtains & open doors, inviting whomever in to be with whomever as whomever watched from not-afar. The Baths. Glory Holes. Gay Porn. Learning to suck dick and get fucked in the ass (with the ever-present can of Crisco) by my 8-gay friends I lived with in various locations, including the “PH.”  (When we were with our parents, we called it the “Pancake House.” We were so slick. snort).

Laying on the bed, I sang with Bette, thrice through, crying, missing my friends who have died from AIDS. After “The Rose,” I remembered I had Bette Midler’s Divine Madness on my Kindle, putting it on.

Loud.

By the time “Shiver Me Timbers” came on, I was sobbing remembering my wondrous friend, Paul Wegman

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Paul Wegman, Orlando, Actor, Beloved Friend

Miss Pwho died in 2004 from AIDS. Paul used to sing “Shiver Me Timbers” just for me. I tipped him whatever I could so he would.

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Miss P,  Orlando, Parliament House            circa early 1980s

While I first met P (he initially was Miss Pauline, then Miss P, then he dropped the Miss and was “P” for the years I knew him) as a Drag Queen, we became wonderful friends and worked together at the Subway Sandwich shop in Winter Park, by the infamous Sinkhole. During the time I knew him only as P, I, of course, used female pronouns, but when I used “she” at work once, he spun around and told me “HE!”. So that is why I use “he” even as he is P.

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Parliament House Drag Show, circa 1979… P (in white), Heavy Duty (in red), Gerald (next to Heavy), Rusty Fawcett (next to Gerald). You can see Lori DelMar’s head (over Gerald) and Von Gretchen (second in on back row, right side)

Paul and I, while there were 17 years between us, were really compatible. We shared a love for books (we shared books a lot), music, Broadway shows, the theater… and black men.

I loved Paul. I mean. LOVED. I ached to have him take me in his arms. He never did. He did sing “The Rose” to me whenever it came on while we were working. I remember it like it was yesterday.

So, if I couldn’t have Paul, I could have the next best thing. His straight, blue-black boyfriend, Tuna. Long passed is why he was nicknamed Tuna, but that’s how we all knew him. Tuna had a bullet still lodged in his thigh. He taught me the word “Nut” for orgasm. He loved my ample white ass. I used to have sex with Tuna while Paul was on stage. Tuna told Paul years later and when I went to visit him (Paul) with my new son in my arms, he confronted me. I was (rightly) mortified and apologized profusely, claiming stupidity as a child of 17, 18, 19, 20. He barely forgave me, but I am glad our last contact was wonderful and positive.

The Flood Abates

So many waves of memories lick the shore of my mind, but I want to get this out before it grows too long.

So much more to say. I need to share it so those after me can know there really was a completely hedonistic time before AIDS. I lived it. (I do also carry scars, but we’ll share those another time.)

To Read More About Life Before HIV/AIDS:

Do You Remember Gay Life Before AIDS? – yes

Death Rush: Poppers & AIDS – there was an enormous belief for awhile that Poppers were The Cause of AIDS. That was the Grasping at Straws time.

Sexual Hyperbole

The Porn Expectation

I am a Sex Worker. A Phone Sex Operator/Phone Sex Actress. After many years of watching very little porn, I am now watching it. A lot. Everything from vanilla straight sex to gay porn to hard-core BDSM.

I also have been watching real life people have sex for almost 40 years.

Truly, the difference is like night and day.

I consider porn to be sexual hyperbole;
the over-exaggeration of the images of sexual acts.

The Dream

Zoe Jaspers, a porn actress herself, writes in How To Spot a Fake Orgasm in Porn:

It’s not common for people to hear that pornstars sometimes fake their orgasms, but when you start to get tired after being ravaged for 5 hours straight, wouldn’t you fake an orgasm too? Nevertheless, it can be heart wrenching for a guy to hear that a girl he has a thing for, has been faking it for most of the sex sessions he’s had with her, due to the fact that not a lot of guys know when a woman fakes an orgasm or not.

Therefore, to help you guys keep an eye out when they’re next watching porn, or when they’re going to have their next encounter with a gorgeous lady, I’m going to spill the beans and tell how to spot a fake orgasm in pornos.

She shares these trade secrets (and elaborates in the article):

  • When she suddenly…arches her back
  • When she suddenly…grabs the guy’s head for no reason
  • When she suddenly…screams too loud
  • When she suddenly…wipes her forehead even though there isn’t a single (bead of) sweat on her (sic)
  • If the pornstar in your favourite movie goes from dry to wet within 15 seconds

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Oh-How-Accurate

I often feel men who watch more porn than have real life sex expect us to “perform” like these girls do on film. When I was a lot younger, still quite inexperienced sexually, I used to try and perform because I was embarrassed that I didn’t look/sound orgasmic.

I faked it.

A LOT.

How fucked up is that?

Once I started having sex with girls, I quickly learned all of us sound and look totally different when we orgasm. IF we orgasm at all. (Not everyone does and they should not be shamed for being inorgasmic. Pleasure does not always equal orgasm.)

I’m really glad to read this article Zoe Jaspers wrote because the information/disclosure really needed to come from within the industry. I hope her piece and this blog post can help soothe women’s/people’s concerns about not looking like a porn star when they orgasm.

(That we also do not look like the actors during the rest of the sex acts will be addressed separately.)

I refuse to fake it anymore. And I still don’t sound like a porn star when I cum.

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Pedophiles Collectively Exhale

People seem baffled at how the GOP can still support pedophile Roy Moore in Alabama. I am not.

Pedophiles Unite

I talk to guys who, I am sure, have child porn on their computers. I mean… I know they do. The  pedophile community is tight knit and it takes a lot of vetting before you are finally admitted to the grossest club on earth.

That we elected a sexual assailant for president emboldened already brazen men everywhere. Women being mistreated, in public as well as private, over and over as the guys held up the president’s example of (im)proper behavior towards women.

One set of pigs let loose on the farm.

And now we have even more vile animals, cesspool dwellers, silently cheering that, see?  their “vice” isn’t that bad. Even the GOP is backing pedophile Moore! Even the president (which isn’t saying much at all). Pedophiles might not come out publicly that they masturbate to (the stolen life of a) child pornography, but I am sure pedophile Moore is getting a slew of anonymous thank you’s.

The Blind Eye is Theirs

Pedophile Moore continues denying what he did because he simply does not see his predatory behavior as anything bad and worthy of admitting to. He honestly feels he did nothing wrong. Being banned from the mall, having to be watched at football games so he stayed away from the cheerleaders, even his thinking he was asking permission to “date” a woman’s daughter… he believes these are all normal behaviors. And they are! FOR HIM!

If a pedophile and child molester had to admit their behavior, their entire world view that includes the realities of justifications and permissions and, “Well, I’m not that bad,” (yes, even pedophilia has gradations) would come toppling down and I believe, in many instances, might even kill them with their own shame. (I hope they choke on it a long time before dying.)

The Moral Bar Falls Into Hell…

… and the GOP has lowered it. That they care more about their “agenda” than tending to a vile, sick, perverted child molester speaks volumes about their morals.

They have none.

All of us poor children who have been sexually abused… all of the children being sexually abused by pedophile Roy Moore’s everywhere, even as I write this… we are all watching.

We are all watching.

And to you boys and girls being hurt, abused and are heartbroken, know there are so many of us out here who believe you and are here for you when you need us.

You are not alone.

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This Men Showing Off Their Dicks Thing

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Safe Space… no Dick Pics here.

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Most women, probably around the globe, know that men love showing off their dicks.

Between Dick Pics and (what we are now learning more about) sexual harassment/assault, men think really highly of their cocks. Much more so than women think of them.

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Kaua’ian Rooster

Dicks in My Work Environment

Penises are a normal part of my day as a Sex Worker. What most people would probably deem absolutely horrid in a work situation, I get paid to do.

I watch as men masturbate on cam, talk them through the experience and make sweet comments about how gorgeous their cocks are. Men love to hear how good their cocks look, asking me to compare it to others and want to know if theirs is the best I’ve ever seen. (Not kidding.) I ooo and ahhh, stroking their penis-egos and I am paid well for it.

Because I see cocks for a living, men often think I want to see their unsolicited dick pics even before we meet. My email address at work strips attachments unless I approve the person, so that limits it fabulously, but even then, some slip by, or past clients will toss a dick pic in their “I’m going to Las Vegas for a week” emails. I guess it’s to keep me warm and cozy until their return?

SPH

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There is another genre of men who want me to laugh at their penises… men who are under-endowed. Even men near the average 5.16 inch cock get into Small Penis Humiliation (SPH). But when they are in the 1-3 inch (erect) size, SPH is guaranteed to be their thing. Entire volumes of psychology studies could probably explain this phenomenon, but I have boiled it down to being laughed at the first time someone (usually a girlfriend) sees their size when they have already been erect for some time, anticipating sex with her. Instead, while he is hard, she laughs; positive reinforcement.

PAY SOMEONE TO LOOK AT IT!

I beg of you. Many of us beg of you. Just stop sending unsolicited dick pics. Really, really.

JUST STOP IT!

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Should You Take Your Dick Out?

Apparently, there needs to be a Tutorial on how men can make the decision to show someone their penis, either in real life or in a picture.

I love how Tiffany Haddish stated it on Saturday Night Live a week ago. Haddish is the first black female stand-up comic in 43 seasons to host Saturday Night Live. Her counsel states:

“If you got your thing-thing out and she got all her clothes on, you’re wrong.”

This is the perfect guide for men who have an urge to show their privates to women.

(Of course, I will add the caveat: Unless you are paying her or have an agreement ahead of time.)

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Indeed.

Life Lesson: Circling the Beauty

Boudoir Beauty

roxx mastectomy scar tattoo

A friend of mine had boudoir pictures done. She’d had a difficult few years, including a double mastectomy because of breast cancer. It took every ounce of (emotional) strength to agree to the photo shoot, wanting it as a surprise to her several-decade-long partner. When the proofs came, she was shyly pleased at how she looked. Most were fairly modest, but others did show her precious scars that saved her life.

Timidly, she showed her husband.

His response was: Nice lighting.

Broken-hearted and filled with unnecessary shame, she came into our secret group and shared a couple of the more modest photos asking if they were that bad that he didn’t even comment on what she looked like.

My friend’s pictures are stunning. When I opened the first one, I had shivers from the beauty of seeing this woman, literally, laying bare the fears she’s harbored for so, so long. (As many of us in this society do.) Of course we all held her close and loved on her, and told her what a doofus he was for not “seeing” her, but all of our approval was a drop compared to what she’d needed from him.

I’ve thought of this for several days now, asking the couple of guys in my life why a husband would do that? Why he couldn’t even muster a “You’re beautiful,” even if was fake. My male friends said about the same thing: Men suck.

Ye Olde Body Image

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We women struggle with our body images, many of us since childhood.

I remember when I first began having sex, I never wanted to get on top because my breasts drooped off my chest, not remaining in pretty round orbs like the girls in Playboy. Then after having one giant baby after another, I didn’t want to get on top because my entire mid-section sagged down with gravity. Suddenly, my breasts were the least of the flopping about.

Just sitting here writing this, I remember the shame acutely. I have tears dripping from the corner of my eyes because I find myself so repulsively ugly. I feign not being embarrassed at all these doctor appointments, but the reality is I cringe every time someone needs to touch my body.

Sexy Shame

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When I go to Sex Parties, there is no shame from anyone. Bodies are bodies are bodies. Most of us there are old enough to know life before Internet porn, so, I believe, have a more realistic view of growing-older bodies and sex. Besides under the covers, the only place I am free to be naked is with my kinky and swinging friends. (Even still, I am always nervous about taking my clothes off at the beginning of the evening. NO ONE EVEN CARES! Yet, I still do.)

Our Bodies Turning On Us

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Fat, folds, scars, sags, creases, hair where we don’t want it, no hair where we do want it, adult acne (what the fuck are we doing still getting acne in our 60’s?!), leaking when we sneeze, farting at inopportune times… belching, using your inhaler before having sex, having not one, but two pillboxes to fill every week… having to eat by the clock so your blood glucose doesn’t go too high, or goddess forbid, too low! (One of the not-so-funny funny things is you have to shoot insulin into a roll of fat. Every. Single. Time I have to give myself a shot, I roll my eyes at the luck of so many gooshie sites to choose from.)

And let’s not even begin in the genital area.

“Rejuvenation”

People with means might be thinking, “Not me!” and so many begin having plastic/reconstructive surgeries as early as 16. That girls under 20 are asking for labiaplasty because they think their vulvas are ugly makes my heart hurt. Can an entire generation of women feel even more body shame than I have about mine? It seems so.

It’s sad to me that so many girls and women… and men! think our bodies should be porn-perfect or fantasy-ready.

I have no easy answers.

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Oddities & Ongoings

Oddities & Ongoings

I am nearly immobilized by the events happening right now. 45 is trying to kill us all. Just because he is at the end of his life and has a good bunker to hide in doesn’t mean the rest of us should have to die for his ego. I have horrible thoughts I wish I could purge, but they come unbidden sometimes. That man is evil. Just pure evil.

(And people felt this way about Obama?!? He never came close to killing us, much less in the first 3 months of office.)

Kinky Exam Room

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Is this an exam “table” or what?!

Work is slow for me which is frustrating considering I am still in the hole from the manic donations to Syria relief. I have been writing some really good pieces for my work blog, but one of my best, about Medical Fetishes, was pulled because I used forbidden words (pee, shit, toilet, bathroom). Sheesh, I just wrote about peeing in a cup at the doctor’s office! But work is very PG13 and even though it wasn’t golden showers related, it was yanked. Now I am lost about how to continue the series.

I want to write just basic: This is the exam table with stirrups, This is how an enema works, This is the speculum, This is the gown, This is the syringe… you get the gist. All regular normal things that loads of folks fetishize. Having been a midwife for so long… and being twisted… I am able to make each of those topics highly sexualized and fetishized.

Only twice as a care provider did I think anything sexual about women in my charge. One was Zack when he was pregnant and laboring; we became lovers soon after. Then there was another woman I had a sexually visceral reaction with (she felt it, too) and I removed myself from her direct care and became her doula. We never acted on the feelings, but they were most certainly there.

Feminist Porn

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Life with my cub is delicious and fun. He is amazing… is having some psych issues, but I’ve been able to nudge him into therapy and that will, I know, help lots. It has to be an enormous challenge being Muslim and kinky. And that’s just the off-work life!

Things between him and me, however, are in a self-sustaining/maintaining place. Just a delight being with him, talking to him, having sex with him. So so much fun! And I just realized, because he told his therapist, that I am TWICE HIS AGE! Fuck, I am old. We’ve been together for almost 18 months and I just figured this out?! (Where have I been?!)

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I don’t think I told you, but I found a Feminist Porn site! We’d been looking for one for quite a while because standard porn is a big ol’ yawn to me. Fake fake fake and just weird what with the girls wearing stilettos to bed and tromping around the pool in heels and giving the stupidest blow-jobs ever.

Googling “Feminist Porn” brings up several for-pay sites and someday, I hope to be able to use them, but Syria has the bulk of my money at the moment so finding a free Feminist Porn site was quite the coup!

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Bellesa (https://bellesa.co/ – NOT .com) has culled free porn from several free sites, including PornHub which is one of the largest regular porn sites out there, but have screened the videos before bringing them to Bellesa. Even so, some of the screened ones don’t make my cut.

I cannot abide by women faking pleasure. They squeak like mice and no matter what position they are in, they act like they are having a clitoral blast. Can you see me rolling my eyes? I’ve been screening the videos before my cub and I watch together (today I had him screen) and any squallering garners a thumbs down from me. (I keep a Word Document with the names of the videos I like and don’t like, besides the Star rating system on Bellesa.)

I will not watch a video if anyone has bruises that are not explained in the scene. I love kinky bruises as much as anyone else, but unexplained ones, especially if they look like they were made by hurting someone without their permission, squicks me.

I am not 100% sure, but would probably not watch one that had the girls in shoes on the bed. That is just so fake and ridiculous. Fuck, you’ll rip the sheets!

Hamilton

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I am still obsessed with Hamilton: An American Musical. I listen to the music 15+ hours a day sometimes. I love the Hamilton Mixtape, too, but right now am on a continuous loop of the original cast album. If you’ve not yet discovered the music, do yourself an enormous favor and immerse your Self, too.

Because of the musical, my cub and I read the original book, Hamilton, by Ron Chernow. It was amazing, too. After we finished that, we read Washington: A Life, also by Chernow. I actually loved Washington even more than Hamilton. I had no idea George Washington was as incredible as he was. Chernow brought him to life.

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I loved American History in junior high school, considered being a History teacher at one time, but then just lost interest over the years. Hamilton has reopened the passion I once had for American History! While I think Chernow is a fantastic researcher, his other books don’t really interest me. So, my cub and I have moved on to Lincoln, jumping right into the center of it all with Lincoln: Team of Rivals. We’ll be starting it later this week.

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Okay, time to sign off of here. My cub and I have a date to watch the 3 porn videos he found for us to watch together. Woo hoo!

I do have to laugh a little at his saying how much more discerning he is with porn now, which is amusing because he’s watched it for about 18 years now. Hey, if I can convert a regular porn user to feminist porn, my day is complete!

Kinks, Fetishes & Shame

There is this interesting dynamic that occurs in several kink & fetish communities. It is known as a Binge-Purge Cycle. Most of us probably recognize this term with regards to food, but in the kink community it takes on a slightly different guise.

I’ve witnessed and walked through this cycle several times with my phone sex clients over the last 18 months.

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Binge-Purge Cycle

The Binge-Purge Cycle goes through quite predictable stages. I outline them below.

Bingeing: Buying items of their kink or fetish… panties, dresses, make-up, wigs, heels, lingerie, diapers, bdsm toys, sex toys and the like.

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Indulging: A period of wonderful happiness, although it can also include some recklessness (unprotected sex, not being particularly careful about physical safety when hooking up, walking the fine line between having fun with the kink-fetish & tempting being discovered, putting pictures on the Internet, etc.).

Beginning of Discomfort: Sometimes this comes with a close call of being discovered (which I see happening almost as a subconscious set-up oftentimes) or someone threatening to tell the spouse or out them at work. Other times are when a life situation presents such as an upcoming business trip or hospitalization (“What if my spouse digs around and finds my stash?”), a near-miss car accident or a fall (“What if I was hospitalized and they saw my panties?” “What if I die and my wife finds my stash?”)

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“Hidden”, by Secret Fantasy

Deepening Shame: It is a short leap from discomfort to the shame that leads to purging. This often has religious overtones. I actually see this around Christian holidays a lot. As we would expect, the more fundamentalist the religion, the deeper the guilt and shame. Spouses and parents tend to really beat themselves up hard at this point. (“I would ruin my kids’ lives if anyone found out.” “My wife would take the kids if she ever knew I wore panties/sucked cock/saw prostitutes/etc.”) I do see this in single folks, too, though.

This Shame phase I have the hardest time with regarding my clients and those in my life. I will talk about this specifically in a few minutes.

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Purging: This tends to be a cathartic rather than a sad event. Some feel sad, but most feel remorseful-relief as they pile everything into garbage bags to take to a faraway dumpster. (I try and put the idea in their heads to donate the items instead of tossing them in the trash.)

Newly Abstinent: Huge amounts of relief replace the shame and this phase also has a “high” similar to the Indulging phase. This place without any of ones’ accoutrements around feels safe, clean, unburdened. They are able to breathe easier for awhile.

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Bargaining as the Building of Desire Increases: The urge to dress/play/have anonymous sex/etc. increases and intense bargaining occurs. (“I promise not to if you take this urge away.” “I will never cheat on my wife again if I can stop wanting to wear panties.”) No one takes the person up on the bargaining, of course. When they are in this phase, alcohol or medication/drugs often come into play to try and relieve the intense urges to fulfill their needs. As we know, substance (ab)use creates its own set of obstacles in relationships.

Bingeing: When the tipping point occurs, enormous spending sprees tax credit cards, their minds whir with how to not be discovered/where to hide the goods and an enormous high drives the entire production towards that reckless place once again.

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Binge-Purge Kinks & Fetishes

A few of the kinks & fetishes that do this cycle are:

Shame

I could just as easily pick out any part of the cycle to discuss –and might do others later- but the Shame aspect is where my heart hurts right now.

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artist, Hans Cras

It breaks my heart when I hear someone in this place. They speak to me softly, usually near tears, hiding in their car or locked in their office, telling me they can’t help it and how much they hate themselves for their horrible behavior. I want to bring them into my arms and comfort them (and do so in my mind).

Knowing how overwhelming and bad this feels, the first thing I do is tell them, with all the love in my voice, that there is absolutely nothing wrong with their desire. It is our society and culture that has the issue. That in other cultures and in other times, their kink-fetish was honored and revered.

I tell them it sucks to not be able to be who they really are and that I understand their fears of discovery and, if god is involved, how they think he will judge them and send them to hell.

I tell them I am not alone in believing in them and honoring who they are no matter what they wear or how they behave. I always encourage a kink-fetish-friendly therapist and have helped several find someone in their area. (Definitely not a part of my job and I am not paid for it, but feel it is a natural off-shoot to my love and care.)

My Own Shame

Shame makes me crazed sometimes. Surely because I have had (and am still plowing through) a lifetime of the sludge and muck that colors almost every aspect of my life. I don’t want anyone to feel this terrible filthiness and weight on the heart and spirit. 35+ years of therapy seems to have barely shoveled any into the incinerator. Or else it is self-replacing; some goes out, tons comes back in.

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As a midwife, I worked with the shame of clients… sexuality being a common theme. What was nice was I had a proscribed schedule, typically 7-8 months, within which to explore the shame and help them find tools to lessen the guilt and shame they carried.

Here, however, I never know if the call I am on will be the absolutely last call before a purge, so I feel compelled to discuss shame with many clients, especially if they are in what I would consider a high-risk-for-purging kink or fetish.

Bypassing Shame

Delightfully, I’ve talked to a couple of folks who’ve found peace in their kinks and fetishes and have created safeguards against discovery.

Fascinatingly creative, I’ll share one person’s solution.

Off-Site Storage

One gal, dressing (in girl/women’s clothes) almost since toddlerhood, had gone through at least 8 binge-purge cycles in over 40 years when she had the profound realization this need/desire to dress was simply never going away. There was not any lightning bolt moment where she saw herself… the rest-of-her-life Self… not willing to purge again and Be who she knew herself to be. The dawning took many, many years, she telling me that each purge brought her closer to never doing so again.

When the final decision to stop purging was made, she decided to be proactive in keeping her family from ever ever ever finding out about this part of her, yet be able to resume dressing whenever she went out of town on business.

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She moved everything out of the house, only bringing something home to wash occasionally and only when the family was gone.

The list of her off-site storage solution is astonishingly brilliant. Mind you, this took her about 10 years to iron out the details, but still… incredible.

• Pays cash for almost everything
• Has an air conditioned storage unit
• Has a post office box and uses this as her address for almost anything requiring an address
• Has a separate bank account, out of state, in her chosen name
• Has a separate computer she uses only for her alter-ego, including buying clothes, going to chat rooms, etc.
• Has a separate phone in her chosen name, out of state phone company
• Has a key in a tiny lock box that opens the safe deposit box at a large bank outside of town

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• Debit cards, phone and key to the storage unit kept inside the safe deposit box
• Inside the storage unit, she had a private closet consultant make a lovely closet for her to store her clothes, lingerie, shoes, stockings, wigs, makeup and jewelry
• Inside the storage unit, she has her phone
• Inside the storage unit, she has luggage that she packs in anticipation of the out-of-town business trip coming up next (prepared ahead of time except for clothes that can wrinkle, putting those in before the flight)

Isn’t this the most ingenious solution to leaving shame behind?

She did these things so that if anything ever happened to her… a heart attack, a car accident, any kind of emergency that would keep her from protecting herself, her family would be protected (her word) from knowing this part of her. The several keys and combinations to even get into the storage unit, the storage unit not being in her male name (if she died, they would simply sell her things off), the phones, the debit cards… all for her self-protection and piece of mind.

We did talk for a few minutes about if she was out in a club dressed and some tragedy like Pulse happened, she could possibly be discovered, but I did tell her that most EMS and hospital personnel would keep that part of her secret, it being irrelevant to the next of kin.

All in all, she covered her tracks beautifully.

I asked if I was allowed to share this with others and she said absolutely because she wished she’d had someone help her all those years ago.

My Conclusion

I believe there can be ways to offer others support and information for, if not removing, at least relieving, some of their guilt and shame.

I know I am not alone on this side of the amazing people’s journeys. Are you here, too?

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