I love meeting new people via social media. I like the way that the internet connects me with tons of folks from all walks of life that I may never meet in person- I get exposed to all sorts of ideas and theory and politics and I devour it.
But there is one type of person I could really do without.
Arrogant male dominants.
Oh my god, could I do without them. In fact, I would go to more kinky events if I wasn't completely convinced that I would run, multiple times, into one or another of this breed- the swaggering "Master" type who has MULTIPLE YEARS EXPERIENCE!@#!@ and therefore most certainly know more about what being a dominant means than a whippersnapper like me. Extra points if more than a year of that experience was cybersex with a kink element online.
Or there's the other kind, the one who's quite smug that as a woman, I can't be a dominant. Maybe, just maybe, I could be a switch, but of course if I met the right dominant man I would straighten up and fly right. Oh, and of course I'm not REALLY queer. Again, if I met the right man I would know my proper place. It's biology, innit?
Generally guys like this are not in my world. I avoid them in person- if I can't, then my pretty obvious annoyance/repulsion makes it clear that they should bark up some other tree. I find these men are often like petri dish grown molds, destined to pop up when cissexism, heterosexism and patriarchy reign unchallenged. And personally? I'm allergic.
But on the internet, the Twue Male Doms crawl out of the wordwork (see what I did there?). There's no escaping them. They're sniffing around my Facebook. They're all up in my Fetlife. They're following me on Twitter. And they don't seem to understand that no, I am not a submissive, I am not into men, and I'm not changing my mind for them. Some male dominants are polite when they ask me to play, and I explain, and they're really pleasant about it, it's no biggie when I decline.
Others throw a weird sort of tantrum.
Maybe they think I look like a challenge, because I sometimes post photos of me bound or gagged. Maybe they think they're impressive catches and I should be grateful for their attention. Maybe they don't realize they come off as massive asshats. I like to give people the benefit of the doubt after all.
Today, for example, I had one who started off innocently enough, joking about my Twitter bio, where I say I generally follow people back who talk to me about something other than my tits. Cool, I don't mind a little good-natured larking about, right? He asked me what I liked talking about, like, for example, being tied up/gagged (thanks to my profile image, which has me peeling duct tape off my lips, a commentary on the Facebook censorship thing earlier in the week). I politely corrected him that actually, *I* was the one who did the tying, and anyway, I wasn't that into rope. I was a little annoyed that he'd make assumptions, but I get it.
That's when I discovered he was another one of those dickish male doms. Or at least he acted like one... and when I tried to get him to stop, nope, he just kept on going.
First, he questioned my skill. He's never met me. As far as I know, he knows nothing about me besides what he's learned on Twitter, which is not much. Strike one. Then, he says that you "know a dominatrix/dominant by their rope work". Uh, no. You don't need to be into rope bondage to be a Dom/me. Strike two. Then, he attempts to hit on me, saying that he subspaces for a dominatrix who can handle him- like I care? Strike three.
Kitty's not pleased.
I told him that I don't like being called a dominatrix and that I dislike the suggestion that all dominant women are pros... and he argued with me about it. I said that I used to not care much about bondage cause I stayed where I was told, because I was into service submission, and as a top I prefer duct tape and cling film. He just fixated on the fact I used to be a submissive and then said he was disappointed in me cause he had tried to be friends!
I just had to roll my eyes and say "thanks for the blog fodder"- because it's so stereotypical it's frustrating. I'm pissed off that he would assume that I was a submissive even after saying I don't ID that way. Why is it that so many male doms feel they are justified in treating female dominants like uppity submissives? Why do they struggle so much when asked not to do something? Why oh why do they feel the need to add to the stereotype that many male dominants are self-obsessed Gor-like knobs with their heads in their asses? I don't WANT to have my squick proven true over and over again! But they let down the side.
The way that people like this guy behave make me actively feel unsafe in my local community. It's certainly part of why I don't submit anymore- I just had too many experiences where the male doms I played with were not interested in an exchange so much as a give/take relationship. I gave, they took. So I quit submitting. I even turned away from kink for a while because I didn't want to deal with it. In London, at a club for female dominants and their submissives, I blossomed, grew confident, grew angry that I had been tricked for so long into doubting my true desires. Because guys like this surrounded me- guys who seemed to feel that all I needed was the right guy to fix me. And I was stupid enough to fall for it.
It bothers me particularly when I think about Safe/Ward and the Consent Culture project. Why? Because my limits are obviously not valuable. My identifications are not respected. What the hell kind of consent culture is this when even simple things politely requested are ignored, and the person ignoring them feels the right to call me a bully for speaking out about it?
Look, male dominants reading this, if there are any. I want to like you. I want you to be my ally in making people feel safe and respected in the kinky world, I want to see you fighting sexism, racism, homophobia, cissexism, ableism in our sex spaces... right alongside me. So please, if I say I'm a dominant woman, trust me- and don't take it as an invitation to challenge me to top you. It makes you look like a twat.