So, let's see. The government's hunting Snowden for telling us even a bit about how much they're spying on us. Microsoft adds to their list of fuckups with the Xbox One by using rape jokes to sell it. Trans* women are being followed to trans* safe venues (Bar Wotever) by radical feminists (like Cathy Brennan) for the purpose of harassment... complaining that trans* women are invading their spaces. Texas rules that women who don't put out can be shot if there's money on the table. Cops are even killing kittens and getting away with it. It's been a fucked up couple of weeks.

So I'm just going to post a bunch of photos. Because fuck everything, right.

[gallery size="medium" link="none" columns="2"]

"Adverts for their products appeared next to a group captioned “I like her for her brains” below a woman lying with a pool of blood around her head, and another titled “Violently Raping Your Friend Just for Laughs”."

 -Pinterest: nudity welcome, Matt Warman

Ok, I just for kicked off Facebook for 24 hours. You know why? Because I just got scolded for my second warning. Oh no, you say! What did I do? It must've been REALLY AWFUL if pages and images like the above *are allowed to stay up forever because they're just bad taste, right*.

The first time, I was booted because I posted an image on Instagram which posted to Facebook where you could see my nipple. Gasp! Horror! I mean, in this day and age! A nipple! Which is interesting, because while they are anti-women's breasts, they are apparently cool with baby penises.

This time, it was for posting a link to a trailer for a Queer Porn TV piece I did with my porno soulmate Betty Blac and filmed by femme fatale Courtney Trouble. Because sex isn't ok on Facebook, right. And, you know, fair enough- it's porn. Though actually, on contemplation, it's a link to porn, which is actually ok according to their standards, and on looking at it further? It's because when I shared it, this is the image that automatically came up when I shared the post via FB's sharing button on my mobile (the original post, mind, is still up), and it showed... yep, that's right. A nipple. HORROR. And I couldn't elect to remove an image, cause FB doesn't let you do that on your mobile.

Anyway I guess I got confused, because Facebook has been ok with so many other things lately that I didn't think some loving sex would be an issue. Silly me.

Because, of course, had it been a video of a 12 year old girl being violently raped, that'd be ok. Not an isolated incident, mind- it happens often enough that it's becoming a trend. Cause porn is bad, mmk, but videos of young girls and women being raped, that's just bad taste entertainment! Never mind that the subsequent humiliation is further abuse that can continue long after the sexual assault. One piece I read believes that's more of the point- the public shaming of a young woman as a group bonding activity. Thanks, Facebook, for fostering that but making sure that dirty porn stays far, far away!

Granted, you know, it's also totally ok to use Facebook as a humiliation tactic. In one Youtube video that I won't link to, a mother yelling at her 14 year old daughter (who she's dressed up presumably as a "slut" for her public shaming) references that some boys posted photos of this girl engaging in sex acts to her Facebook page (which presumably didn't get deleted immediately as Mum found it, despite being both nonconsensually shared*and child porn*). This mother also threatens that she's going to beat her daughter, film it, and post that on Facebook as a lesson for the boys she sleeps with- cause, you know, that'll show them!

She's not the only parent to think of filming the beating of her child and then sharing it on the internet to further punish her kid, though. But maybe she hasn't heard that those videos are being used as evidence of, well, child abuse. That said, even in those cases, the videos are allowed to be shared over, and over, and over again, furthering the humiliation which was the point of putting them online in the first place. Are we that addicted to human suffering?

Well, according to Facebook, the answer is yes. If you look at what they filter for their standards says things like it's not ok to bully someone for their status as a sexual assault victim- yet they allow pages that actively encourage violence against sex workers, because that's just funny, right? I can't be a porn star on Facebook, but I can be a dead hooker! Hahahaha....oh.

I think I'll just close with this, cause it pretty much sums up my disgust:

"The specific clause in Facebook's statement of rights and responsibilitiesthat's supposed to protect groups against violence and hate speech instructs the user: "You will not post content that: is hateful, threatening, or pornographic; incites violence; or contains nudity or graphic or gratuitous violence." However, Facebook has now defended the numerous pages that clearly violate these terms by claiming: "Groups that express an opinion on a state, institution, or set of beliefs – even if that opinion is outrageous or offensive to some – do not by themselves violate our policies." Which is strange, because if a page entitled "Roses are red, violets are blue, I've got a knife, get in the van" isn't hateful, threatening or gratuitously violent, I don't for the life of me know what is.

It was back in August that feminists first began to notice the proliferation of pro-rape pages on the popular social networking site. Two months later over 176,000 people have signed a US-based petition calling on Facebook to take them down, and nearly 4,000 people have signed aUK-based petition calling for the same. The Facebook pages, such as the one cited above and others that include "You know she's playing hard to get when your [sic] chasing her down an alleyway" still remain.

Facebook's initial response to the public outcry was to suggest that promoting violence against women was equivalent to telling a rude joke down the pub: "It is very important to point out that what one person finds offensive another can find entertaining" went the bizarre rape apologia. "Just as telling a rude joke won't get you thrown out of your local pub, it won't get you thrown off Facebook."

And in some ways they're right: telling a rude joke probably wouldn't get you thrown out of your local pub. I'd suggest, however, that propping up your local bar while inciting others to rape your mate's girlfriend "to see if she can put up a fight" would not only get you thrown out, it would in all likelihood get you arrested as well. Still, at least you could log on once you got home and post your offensive comments on Facebook instead, safe in the knowledge that they wouldn't do anything about it.

What Facebook and others who defend this pernicious hate speech don't seem to get is that rapists don't rape because they're somehow evil or perverted or in any way particularly different from than the average man in the street: rapists rape because they can. Rapists rape because they know the odds are stacked in their favour, because they know the chances are they'll get away with it."

-Facebook is fine with hate speech, as long as it's directed at women, Cath Elliott

Feel free to tweet Facebook (or complain on FB) and tell them what you think about all this. You could also comment here but it'll probably get lost in the noise.

So, I saw on Tumblr this awesome post by Pervocracy about what sex positive means to them. I really love and agree with their post, and it made me consider my critique of "sex positive" as a catch-all term and why I tend to not identify with it generally (though probably would if Pervocracy's definition was more widespread). I'm also very much influenced by this post, The Ethical Prude by Lisa Millbank, particularly this bit, which I recommend.

What I mean when I say I'm Sex Critical:

• I believe that we all deserve the agency to engage with and explore informed consensual sexuality as much or as little as we personally desire to do so
• I believe/agree that sexual pleasure is a legitimate thing to desire and ethically pursue, both in conjunction with other things (love, spirituality) or as an end to itself
• I strive to not judge people for the consensual sex that they have or want
• I also critique the construct of "consent" in a society that exists under systems of oppression/privilege- rather, I think we should work to minimize coercion while acknowledging that the possibility of internal and external pressure may still be at work
• I believe thoroughly understanding consent is incredibly important and sorely lacking, both within alternative communities and in the world at large
• I reject preconceptions about what kind of sexuality anyone 'should' have, based on their age, gender, sex, culture, mental faculty, survivor status, physical ability, sex work status, STI status, or anything else
• I will not tolerate sex worker bashing, jokes about dead hookers, or a sex worker hierarchy of acceptability that benefits from classism, racism, or cissexism
• I will not tolerate slut shaming, nor will I tolerate prude shaming
• Equally, I critique the idealization of sluttiness, particularly female sluttiness, when we live in a society that both objectifies women and condemns women for being objectified (and the sex positive community is not any different)
• I accept that sex is not always nice, and that sexual environments deal with the same white privilege, male privilege, entitlement, classism, ableism, ageism, fatphobia, whorephobia, and many other systems of privilege as the rest of the world does
• I question the idea of "woman as Goddess" as potentially another form of female objectification in which women are objectified for the projection of male fantasy fulfillment (*not in all cases*, but it's worth critiquing)
• I very heavily critique the way self-termed "sex positive" communities have dealt with rape and abuse cases brought to them in the past- systems of silencing, shaming, and victim blaming that mimic the sex moralistic world outside.
• I particularly critique this when put up against the sex-as-compulsory attitudes I've witnessed at many events, pressuring people (especially women) to "participate"
• I believe that being sex critical means being intersectionally critical about capitalism, patriarchy, institutionalized racism, and the myriad other ways in which oppression exists and affects our relationship to sex (whether we have it or not)

I mean, in a lot of ways, I think I probably am actually sex positive, and would actually argue that many people who identify as sex positive but aren't critiquing the oppressive systems they're perpetuating within their communities are actually not. But that's really exhausting, and that's fighting a giant movement of happy hippies who get really ugly and mean when you tell them they can't have their "pimps and hos" parties without hurting people or that it's not inclusive to only ever show one standard of beauty- slender, white, cis, feminine, young- on all their event flyers. I'm pretty sure my critique could go on and on, but here's a start to what i mean, at least, when I say "sex critical".

Trigger Warning: This discusses abuse, why someone would stay in an abusive situation, self-blame, loss of friends. It's part of a series about losing an abusive relationship:
Stage 1: Denial
Stage 2: Anger
Stage 3: Bargaining
Stage 4: Grief

It took me months to write this final piece, and I'm kind of freaking out putting it out there. But I finally feel ready. Scared... but ready. Here goes.

I took a deep breath, looking at my therapist, my heart in my chest. "I don't see another option, really," I told her, my eyes dropping to the floor, my voice shaking a little. "I have to do this."

She just looked at me. Gently, she said "you know... it's ok for you to have boundaries. It's ok for you to say no to things that make you feel unsafe and prevent you from healing. This is going to be painful. But I think you can get through it."

I thought I was going to start crying right there. But no, that came later, at home, when I drafted the email and started the process of extracting people who were mutual friends of my ex fiance and I on Facebook. Yeah, I know, right, Facebook. Why such a big deal over an internet gathering place?

Let me set more of a scene for you...

In October he broke up with me. We had been breaking up with each other for months, so it wasn't a surprise, per se, but it was still incredibly painful. I had spent our entire relationship silent about what our relationship was like behind closed doors- partially because of a shame that as a feminist who taught about consent, I shouldn't be in an abusive situation, I should know better... partially because sometimes, when he pushed me, I pushed him back, and I felt guilty for that... partially because as a sex worker being in an abusive relationship was so cliche and would just give anti-sex work activists fuel to tell me my work was the reason I was in the situation I was in (when really, the work helped me survive it)... partially because I was terrified that my friends would not be up to the challenge of listening to a real life Lifetime movie and helping me, and that I would be abandoned, blown off, told my issues were just "drama" and I should keep them to myself. And, of course, massively because coming out about what happened would make things with him unbearable.

I had been trying to get him to seek therapeutic help throughout our relationship, and he had resisted at every step.  I struggled to put my foot down and have strong boundaries, because I loved him and wanted to see him get better- when he wasn't angry and lashing out, he was depressed, and I tried to fix that depressed, scared little boy. I reassured myself that I could take him in a fight, so that when he tried to block me from leaving rooms during arguments, or ripped clothing/jewelry off my body during a fight, or tried to push me down stairs, or grab the phone from my hands so I couldn't call the police... I just told myself that the reason I didn't really hurt him back was out of self control. There was a line, and found I would use physical force back if he crossed it- at that point I insisted we do couples therapy because I was scared of how far things might go. He wasn't, though- he told the therapist "why would I be worried she'd hurt me? She's a girl".

It was then I think I started to realize that maybe things were worse than I thought. But he put up this facade of being such a good feminist, such a queer ally, that I thought maybe I was wrong, maybe it was a slip of the tongue. Maybe the fact he treated his mother equally poorly was a sign of his mum being overcontrolling, not his personal issues (he threw a vacuum cleaner at her, mind, and I stood in front of her to prevent him from attacking her. On Mother's Day). We fought in public and someone asked if the cops should be called and I told them no, even though I was scared and wanted to say yes, because I knew he had a record and was afraid of causing him to go to jail or the mental hospital. I didn't feel prepared to make that call on someone I loved. He would cry after these situations about how he didn't want to be "that guy" and I would comfort him, because I didn't want him to be "that guy" either.

It sickens me now.

If he ever took ownership for these behaviours, things would be different. If he had ever approached me and said "hey, I've been doing some soul-searching and god, I am so sorry for __________ and I wanted to give you space to process" I would feel very different. But instead he's been busily befriending friends of friends of mine here in San Francisco, and spent months telling mutual acquaintances I'm a liar, that none of this happened (though I have records and proof), while posing as a feminist and an ally (pretty common, actually- this book talks a lot about that, and potential solutions for how to weed it out). I can't imagine how he's going to react to this blog post. It's beautiful gaslighting and intimidation/control even after the relationship is dead. I feel bad for him, and some worry for his new group of friends who have little idea how quickly he can switch from Depressed Male Protagonist to throwing things and physical intimidation. I can't save them, though.

But this isn't really about all of that. This is about picking up the pieces in the aftermath.

I tried to commit suicide, several times in a short period, and didn't succeed. During that time, I lost my apartment, my sex worker community, and many of my friends, in action if not in name. I started spending a lot more time online, isolated from real life interaction, social anxiety increasing to make it harder to motivate to get out more often. I wrote occasionally about what I was experiencing, but found myself feeling resentful that people I considered close to me "didn't want to get involved". It was so similar to when I tried to report being raped in the kinky community and I was accused of stirring up drama, told to keep quiet and just move on. They didn't seem to understand that they *were* already involved, and that their silence read, to me and quite probably to him, as complacency and acceptance that what happened was ok, and that my talking about it was not. I felt unspeakable rage, anger at myself, anger at "community", and such incredible loneliness. I still feel such incredible loneliness.

I began to realize that Consent Culture was in many ways a cry for help in the midst of a horrible situation. I needed to build a better, safer community to come out into. I thought that maybe I had, and I think that maybe I did.

I talked to my therapist and read a lot of Captain Awkward and came to the conclusion  I needed to do something that terrified me more than many other things.

I needed to ask people to choose.

"But so often, “creating drama” is a phrase that people use when they want someone who has been a victim of something to shut up. It allows them to blame the victim for bringing the problem to their attention and making them feel bad while glossing over the fact that the drama was really created by the victimizER back when they did bad things. The friend group gets all caught up in issues of “fairness” and “logic” and “It was so long ago, why are you dredging it all up now?” and treating the victim’s feelings (or, again, quite rational & reasonable request to not have to sit next to one’s (abuser) at dinner) as illogical and unreasonable.

Someone who accuses you of “creating drama” in this case is basically saying that abusing one’s partner might be bad, but making people feel weird about it at parties is worse.

It’s not fair that you should lose out on something you value because of that dude. It fills me with rage to see abuse victims retreat time and time again from social spaces while charismatic predators are allowed to remain. But I also think that maybe it’s bad for you to keep exposing yourself to Suckface and to people who chose “We prefer not to know.”

So I say, before you retreat entirely, stop going to things where he will be and let people know exactly why. You worked so hard to be “cool” and to not make people choose, but if this is still hurting you it’s okay if you ask people to choose. It’s okay if you want them to choose you. It’s okay to ask that some events be off-limits to him so that you can enjoy yourself. You don’t have to be the bigger person to people who stayed friends with your (abuser)."

-Captain Awkward

I was sleeping restlessly, having flashbacks, unable to move on. I was haunted by this situation, less by my ex, and more by my friends who remained friendly to a man who was physically and emotionally abusive to me. Yeah, it's just the internet, but I'm a geek- if anything my online space is more precious to me, never mind I expected to be in the same city as him later this year and didn't want him to have any idea where I was. I had asked politely for people to remove him from their networks, but had for the most part been ignored. So I created a plan of action, and began to explain to people I cared about what happened, why I needed them to make a choice, that I understood it was a hard thing I was asking, but that it was non-negotiable. I needed this boundary, because I had spent years having my boundaries ignored, and in order to reclaim some self-respect, this was important to me and my healing. I sent out these emails with tears in my eyes. I figured I was going to lose a lot of people.

And I did, honestly. I lost people I was really looking forward to seeing when I visited in the summer, people I've chatted with for years. I lost people who felt that they saw him socially and it would be too uncomfortable to deal with explaining. I lost people who couldn't be bothered to respond to my heartfelt email. And fair enough- I had steeled myself for people to dismiss it as "drama", and I don't want those people in my lives. I'm just sad to find how many of them there were.

The most interesting group I lost were people who didn't want to be told to make a choice... interestingly, all of them would admit they were much closer to me, and didn't think of FB as a big deal, but being asked to unfriend my abuser was too big of an ask. "I don't understand why you don't just ignore it", some said, or "why is it such a big deal to you? It's just Facebook". By invalidating and belittling my boundaries, they were echoing many of the same sorts of things my ex said- "no, I won't respect your boundary, because I don't think it's valid or important". It certainly emphasized why I stayed silent about what was going on for so long- I wouldn't have gotten much sympathy from these people. Most of those people would consider themselves social justice activists, which leads me to question why a few people from that particular demographic would value an online friendship with an abuser over the emotional well-being of someone they consider a friend. I'm sure there's a critique about activism and feminism and how alternative communities deal with abuse in there, but I'm too tired to do it.

But there's a happy ending. Most of the people I contacted supported my boundary. They understood how scary it was to ask, and if they needed to talk to me about why I needed it, they opened dialogue and we chatted about it. It felt really good to get validation from many people I didn't necessarily expect it from, people who I would not consider as close to me, along with people who I consider dear and was terrified to lose. It made me feel safer around those people as people who would be more likely to support me in real life if situations of abuse happened. It's not "just the internet". It's how we interact, interconnect. The way you respond online reflects a possibility of how you'll respond in real life. It's so much more than just Facebook friends, this, for me, was about ethics, about consent culture, about putting your money where your mouth is. And I'm glad to find that there's more spaces where I can go and feel safe than I initially expected. In the end, painful as it was, vulnerability paid off.

I'm continuing to seek help for myself and sort out my head.  My social anxiety is still pretty bad, and I still feel very isolated much of the time. I'm doing what I can, though. This was the first step of reaching out, and for the most part, it went well. I imagine I'll end up writing a piece about the experience running n anti-abuse project when in an abusive relationship at some point as well. I'm nervous about how my ex will respond to all this- my hope is that it might be the catalyst for him to take it seriously enough to seek out help before he gets arrested and/or hurts another woman. I know that seeking help is the only way I've begun to actually get better and grow from all this rather than avoid it.

And now, I ask you for help. If you know me, and you're available/local- reach out to me, please. Not immediately, but over the next month or two. Ask me to something you're doing. Send me a text. Call me. I'll call you back. I don't want to feel this isolated anymore- I think I'm ready to start working on this social anxiety thing. If you have the spoons, let's use them for tea.

I've been turning this over in my head for a while, so these are just some thoughts, really, but with "why you need to date a crazy girl" going Kinky & Popular on Fetlife, and as a woman who thought being a 'crazy girl" was appealing and cute until I realized that there's a vast difference between quirkiness and actual mental instability, I figured it was time to type some of these thoughts out.

I notice that we have always had an attraction/disgust reaction to "crazy girls", both desiring not to be them (and struggling to resist gaslighting by authorities, partners, family, etc) and yet also being told that "crazy girls" are fun, wild, sexually free. One of the things that saddens me in my experience with mental illness is that sure, a lot of "crazy girls" are quite sexually free- because they're taught that sex is compulsory, and maybe people will love and protect them if they provide sex with as few boundaries as possible.

The sex positive community, in a genuine but misguided desire to suggest that "sex is nice" at all times for all people in all situations, further tends to push these women along to believe that they can develop worth by being sexually desired among these communities. "Slut" is seen as a thing of pride, which it can be, but we also need the self-awareness to deconstruct why we place such value on female sluttiness. The gendering of this is important and should not be ignored.

Additionally, we need to consider why we think "crazy girls" are cute and sexy, but "crazy boys" are dangerous and to be avoided (unless they're depressed, then they should be rescued). Could it be because of perceived vulnerability? That's... pretty creepy, really. There is patriarchy at work here, along with some weird ableism and almost a fetishization of perceived female weakness. I'm reminded of how male artists who were mad are often treated with reverence for their madness, while female artists who were mad are often discredited/forgotten for being so.

The manic pixie is a great example in my mind of the tragic female experience of mental illness. As long as it's unthreatening, it's seen as adorable and enchanting, not something that requires self care and clear boundaries. As soon as it becomes dangerous, though, and crosses the line from manic pixie into something darker? Then suddenly it's all "let's force her into an institution or put her on meds and shame and shun her".

When I deconstruct the manic pixie in film, I often see a depressed guy who meets a woman and ends up deciding to make radical life changes, often involving her moving in, in an incredibly short period of time. It's romantic, right? Except if you've been in that situation and know how it works. "Garden State" is all well and good, but I can promise you that it's only a few months later that Depressed Male Protagonist questions why he gave up his career to move back to his hometown and be with a compulsive liar, however "fun" she might seem in the short term. And she will become bored with his need for constant validation and their codependency. It'll end in misery more often than not.

I often wish the manic pixie's story would be told. I'm more curious about her, to be honest. I wonder why we as a culture laugh at her, when so many female characters in film are equally simplistic- just there to support the male character and led him along his journey. The supportive housewife. The attractive woman the lead wants to impress. The kidnapped daughter. The girl in the fridge. The girlfriend who gets raped. This is a widespread phenomenon, of which the manic pixie is just yet another example.

I probably have a lot more to say on this, but am at work. Curious to see what others think, what others have experienced. I may add to this later, so consider this a living document.

Today is International Sex Worker Rights Day.

To honour it, give sex workers the basic human dignity of listening to their voices- *all* of them.

Listening to all voices means hearing people for whom it was the best of bad options, and/or for whom it was pain, violence, coercion, force. It also means hearing people who are joyous in their work, who create fierce alchemy, capitalist cash into activist fuel. And it especially means honouring the voices of people who have soulsucking days at work and can't just quit their job.

Some people are *all three*.

These are all VALID VOICES- it's hard to hear them all. But they together form the reality of sex work under patriarchy.

Don't assume street based sex workers want rescue... or that "high class hookers" are happy in their work. But do assume that none of them deserve to be raped, abused, fired, have their kids taken from them, assaulted by police, or murdered because of their job. Tho I mostly do social media, I will always be a whore, because I can always be fired from my job for having been one once.

We're sex veterans, the frontline fighters for your right to fuck. It's a lonely path, and a scary one-even if you love your job, the world hates you for it. Give a sex worker some strength back and appreciate them without asking for anything in return- read about Kink.com's complicated worker's rights issues, donate to SWOP, visit the Lusty Lady and tip generously, give a street based worker a meal, or go love on a sex worker's wishlist today or something (if you felt inclined, mine's here, but Maggie Mayhem could really use it, her flat is filled with toxic poisonous mold). We need it to help us carry on so we can continue to fight for our right to not die, not be raped, to exist and make money and have families and love.

Last month I celebrated my 29th birthday, and I spent it feeling very much like an adult- a Groupon-funded spa date with Maggie Mayhem, and then some time panicking with my Daddy about cleaning up the house before going out for a very fancy dinner... with friends I could quiz about my work future. Then I spent the rest of the month buckling down and focusing on sending out resumes and creating a presentation to take on another TV show (fingers crossed!) so it's been intense.

In the meantime, I realized I needed to make some resolutions for the next year. This is my last year in my twenties, something that caused me panic when I was with the ex fiance because I felt pressured to have children, settle down in a house somewhere and start financially supporting... well, a family, really.

Now, I only have to care for myself, and that is the goal of Year 29. Responsible hedonism and radical self care. It's not a lot of resolutions, but they're important.

-Remember My Pleasure is Important. I thought I was frigid, people. I really honestly thought there was something seriously physically wrong with my libido. Turns out that there was, and it was that I wasn't making MY pleasure a priority, and I allowed my bedmates to do the same and be pretty selfish. However, if I'm having lots of orgasms and not having to fight for my kinks to be appealed to, I find myself eager to please my lovers. I haven't loved sucking cock this much in *years* (sorry mom ;) ). I'm discovering new things my body can do that I never knew it could do before, and I'm enjoying sex in a way I haven't since I was in my early twenties. And the best part is the communication about what's enjoyable and what isn't- having a boyfriend who's a true switch has made sexyfuntimes far more exciting than I dreamed possible.

-Travel More. I've already travelled to Maui, I will likely be flying to New York/Boston at least once more this year, I'll be flying to London once and possibly twice this year (and I certainly hope my ex stays out of my way). I want to go places, though. I want to explore. I enjoyed going to new cities last year and I want to do more of it this year- maybe going back to Portland, maybe New Orleans..? And some of the time, I want to travel on my own, something that's traditionally scared me but I think will be good for me.

-Uncover My Manic Pixie Potential. As a Manic Pixie Dream Girl I have spent a lot of time putting myself aside so I can help my Depressed Protagonist Boyfriend figure himself out. I've often felt frustrated at being the girlfriend experience and not the girlfriend in these situations, but I realize now it's partially because I didn't demand better. I refuse the objectification of being the catalyst anymore. It's time I really focus on what I want to do with my life, and my goals, rather than getting lost in fixing someone else. 

-Accept Help. I have so many little projects going on, and it's overwhelming to try to keep on top of them all. I have lots of people interested in helping me out- I need to sit down and follow through on sorting that out so I'm not exhausting myself stretching myself too thin. By the end of the year, I want to have Andro-Aperture back up and running, Consent Culture in the hands of multiple posters, and Ladies High Tea and Pornography Society having semi-regular events across the US, never mind training up an intern or two professionally to assist me with the social media work. It's time for me to go pro.

-Work Is My Primary. I've lost a lot of time worrying about the careers of my partners and not paying much, if any, attention to my own. This year, it's about my career, forging a new path in social media marketing while continuing to embrace sex work in a way that feels comfortable and safe for me. I will keep work a priority, and consider it my primary partner, even if other people laugh at me for my fixation on saving money and paying off bills. It's important to me, and I'm going to value that in 2013 instead of hiding it- I like being a driven, business-minded person, and I'm going to celebrate that this year!

So every year I tend to go back and reflect on the last year's resolutions, and then make up resolutions for the new year.

2012, for the most part, was kind of hellish. Fuck it with a stick, is the nice way to put it.

Here were my resolutions:

-Try to quit smoking and move fully to electronic cigarettes

Well, I didn't do this at all. I mean, call it an excuse, which it is, but this did not feel like the year to quit smoking to me at all, the level of stress I had. But I did come to terms with being a smoker, which is something. Admitting you have a problem is the first step, right?

-Get my divorce finalized

This I did. I have the paperwork in my hot little hands, and I'm finally free of that marriage. I'd glad, as that dragged out for a really long time and it's nice to be done with it.

-Create a new website and have a banner created

Hey look, here it is, thanks to the awesome Ned Mayhem and banners by Clear Menser! Granted as soon as I had all this I almost stopped blogging- it should tell you a lot about my mental state that I pretty much gave up on writing. It was a hard as fuck year, for real. It took all my energy just to get through the day to day. Writing is starting to come more easily now though. I'm getting through it.

-Learn to balance personal self-care with political activism

Hah, this likely has to be a constant resolution. I think, though, that after having a breakdown, I finally began to learn when to say "I care, but I can't help right now". Part of that is telling myself I deserve self-care. I've been using the mantra "self-care is self-love" and that's been helpful- reminding myself that it's not selfish to take care of myself, and that you have to put on your oxygen mask first before helping others.

-Learn to love without fear

This... well, this. This is a complicated one. I had this resolution up here to challenge myself to let go of my anxiety about my ex and his moods, his infidelities, his desires. "Love him as he is," was my goal, "or not at all". I guess in a way I accomplished this by realizing that love that comes out of fear is not really love, but Stockholm Syndrome, and that we were both caught in the clutches of that codependency. I still have some hope that maybe he's doing some personal work to acknowledge his anger issues- maybe one day he'll really take ownership and apologize to me for his lashing out and then lying about it so blatantly. But I'm grateful that I learned when to say "not my problem" and cut things off. And slowly, surely, I'm learning how to ask for what I want with my new sweetie- sex, space, attention, my bed made, snuggles, a story- and not be afraid of the response. Loving without fear requires trust to survive.

-Launch Andro Aperture and start soliciting guest posts

I did start up Andro Aperture but then Consent Culture kind of ate it. Rape Culture killed my male eroticism project. Funny how that happens, huh.

-Present Safe/Ward in 3 new cities

I presented Safe/Ward in Austin and DC this year, but not a third city. I did however get to present it to a third new audience, when I took it to Open SF and presented for the poly/nonmonogamy community, so that was pretty significant. I'm glad to see that community and the Burner community opening up about these issues now.

-Start moving my stuff from the UK to the US

As my ex fiance is now my EX fiance, my stuff is all being shipped from the UK to the US. So rather more suddenly than expected, this goal got fulfilled. But at least I will actually have all my things at long last, all here in the US. I've finally let go of moving to the UK, and settled into living where I am. I'll miss London in some ways, and not in others.

Here's some other stuff I did this year...

-Played a part in taking down a website that posted and sold nonconsensual candid sexualized photos of women
-Went to Edwardian Ball for the first time
-Worked through my grandma discovering I'm a sex worker
-Said goodbye to my cat Meep
-Presented at SXSW on Sex Work and Social Media
-Started co-producing Cum & Glitter
-Filmed with Indie Porn Revolution
-Got elected as the PR person for the Sex Worker Outreach Project... and, eventually, pulled out
-Started a new job
-Lived on my own for the first time
-Visited conferences in Austin, DC, Long Beach
-Went on a cross country road trip
-Visited a clown museum, ghost towns, the Wonder Tower, Coney Island
-Was proposed to in Central Park
-Transitioned out of sex work into social media marketing
-Did my first burlesque class/performance
-Lost both lovers- only to realize they were unhealthy relationships
-Had a mental breakdown on Twitter and almost committed suicide
-Learned how to get help and started meds
-Went to Vegas
-Got a new tattoo
-Went to the Armory Club
-Was published in "Hot and Heavy"
-Competed in an ageplay pageant and challenged my fears
-Recorded with the Big Little Podcast
-Started ever-so-slowly dating someone new- my submissive Daddy
-Visited my parents for Christmas

I'm sure I did a bunch of other things, but these are the big ones! It was a really, really difficult year. But, as my tattoo says- "evolve or die". I evolved, I think. And I survived.

I'm ready for 2013.

I am the Manic Pixie Dream Domme.

Bring to me your grey, wistful, dreary life, seeking some sense of meaning, of who you are, of what you were meant to do, and I will set a fire under your ass with glitter and whimsy. I will make you live in the moment because that's what I'm doing and you're either coming with me or being left behind.

I am an adorable tornado of personal growth and self-awareness and yes, I will beat it into you, probably with a crop shaped like a magic wand while singing songs from Enchanted. Because I’m quirky like that. I have brightly coloured hair and I’ll change it without warning. You cannot depend on me because I am not predictable, I believe in the beauty of impermanence and I breathe it into being with every waking moment. I know the only constant is change and I am always moving, always dancing, always onwards.

When you first meet me and we’re finger painting and riding on carousels, you’ll think I’m just really in touch with my inner child. As you get to know me, you’ll realize I hold onto compassion and knowledge so old it becomes young again. My methods may seem mad, but there is a truth to them. I will take you on adventures and you will find yourself or you will drown trying.

And you will become a better person under my free-spirited, giggling, chaotic care, whether you like it or not.

You may leave me, because I will turn your world upside down and unsettle you and you will not see me as someone you can ever grow old with.

And for those who are irresistibly attracted to my ability to fulfill this trope? For you, I am a Manic Pixie Dream Domme- I will never grow older, and can never settle down. That would destroy my essence.

But you will never forget me.

And that is my power, and your damnation.

******

I have been the Manic Pixie Dream Girl for multiple lovers in my life. I hadn't realized it, necessarily, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that I tended to be the force of nature that swept in and added some kind of excitement into their lives that they got swept up in. It was only when they realized that they were not, in fact, the Depressed Protagonist they had been led to believe they ought to be by the Manic Pixie Dream Girl trope, but rather that I was the lead character and they were the sidekick, that they tended to grow resentful and leave, often citing the very things they were initially attracted to- my quirkiness, my love of life, my energy, my passion- as the reason they couldn't stay with me any longer. No one stays with the Pixie unless she tones it down- the fact that all my quirkiness is powered by *my desire for such* is contrary to the trope.

But if the Pixie is a passive character, what if she was a Domme? What then? What if she used her chaos and her giggling and her creativity and her randomness as a force for personal shifting? Under the right circumstances, with the right constraints and understanding the boundaries... it could be kind of... awesome.

I'm never going to drag a depressed guy out of his funk again with my perky wacky antics. Fuck that noise. But I think if I play my cards right, I might very have someone who will adventure with me, side by side, neither of us saving the other, neither of us needing to be saved. Just kinky good fun, lots of laughter, and so many stories....

Trigger warning: Abuse, mention of roots of Thanksgiving

I tend to be fairly good at finding things to be grateful for every day, so in some ways for me this is a day like any other day, except I can be extra super grateful I have friends who can cook incredibly well and who invite me over to eat their food and then lounge in their hot tub. BLISS.

I'm also grateful that I'll be at a place where there's some possibility of enjoying the OTHER name of today's holiday, Spanksgiving, later on in the evening, because I'm learning I do love to receive as much as I like to give- kind of news to me, as someone who spent the last 10 years running away from anyone wielding a paddle saying "no no no no I hate pain uh uh no fucking way". Turns out that's only MOSTLY true. *coff*

But on a serious note.

It's been a hard year. And a good year.

On reflection, I've realized that this year, my cat, my bestest friend in the world, died, and 3 abusive relationships ended- 2 lovers, 1 friendship.  As each one ended I felt angry, and hurt, and sad, and angry again. Some hurt more than others. But I'm realizing it's not the endings that hurt, but the aftermath. It's feeling trapped in the pattern of being good enough to be the girlfriend experience, or fun to date for a while, but not worth settling down with. That hurts to the core, but I don't have to frame it that way. If I look back and I'm honest, I realize I have more to be grateful for than I have to be sad about.

Last year around this time my ex met my parents for the first (and last) time. There was a sudden ice storm so we spent multiple days in darkness and in the cold. He and I had a fight the night after he flew in, actually, when I treated him to a concert- but he was jetlagged and it was late, and we started yelling, and he got in my face so I got very pissed off and he struck me in the arm in the rental car, and I told him to get out, and he did, he just walked out, and I drove away into the crisp Boston air, not giving a shit if he froze to death or if he phoned his mother and had to fly home early. I ended up relenting and searching for him for blocks until I figured out where he was and we went to the pub near the house and had makeup sex. Neither of us got off, but I think we both faked it. We didn't tell anyone. We both had reputations to uphold.

It's amazing when you look back. Hindsight, 20-20, etc, right. You never realize when you're in it just how bad it is, how bad you're become, how accustomed you've gotten to being anxious all the time.

With that in mind, I want to reflect on a brief list of what I'm grateful for:

-friends I can count on to cradle me, lecture me, and distract me as needed
-family, chosen and blood, and becoming closer to them, even through pain
-that those people forced me to stop, and wait, and think about whether I want to live or not, allowing me time to really think about getting better
-having a room of my own looking over the Bay
-living in an area where I can have easy access to fresh and varied foods
-looking at my fingers and noticing healthy cuticles, not bitten ones
-my heart not pounding every time the phone rings anymore
-writing jobs I can be proud of and published work I can hold in my hands
-medication that works
-having the financial ability to help others in need as well as care for myself
-that I have a voice that gets heard, meaning I can signal boost others effectively
-the distance needed to have clarity of mind
-the thick skin to call abuse what it is, even when silenced and shamed for it, both personally and for Consent Culture
-the desire for healing and evolution for us both through accepting our painful history rather than vengeance
-the realization I am a rising star and that I can't let anyone or anything hold me back, not even/especially the potential I see in someone else (which makes me sound horribly vain, heh)
-my libido returning!
-plans to go to Maui with friends to celebrate my divorce and my engagement ending

-healthy moving forward and moving on with accountability, honesty, and trust as my guides, and my heart quite literally on my sleeve.

I'm very privileged, in many ways. I am humbled by that often, and grateful for that every day. Especially when this holiday is steeped in blood for indigenous people, I feel weird about talking about how lucky I am... part of why I'm lucky is because I'm white and raised middle class. I think it's incredibly important to take a moment to treat this as a Day of Atonement and recognition that our forefathers were not heroes to people of colour. This is a day to recognize the United States's history of genocide, not just turkeys and Pilgrims.

But really, right now, the thing I'm really grateful for is that I didn't end up trapped in a marriage with a guy who couldn't communicate, who struck out when frustrated, who made me cry more often than made me laugh, who didn't respect my boundaries about nonmonogamy and then was bitchy about my lack of trust, who made me feel like I couldn't talk to my friends about what was really going on because I knew they'd tell me to leave him and I loved him. Or I thought I did. Maybe what I loved was the idea that I could get married and have a baby and some sense of normalcy. If that sense of normalcy comes with a relationship that created a cycle of abuse in which we both were miserable, then I'm grateful he let me go.

I just hope one day he admits his own history of violence before he's forced to confront it. And that I continue to recover, admit my faults, and breathe, and grow.