I can tell, because holiday ads are showing all over TV right now.

I love the holidays because I love giving people presents and usually they feel awkward when I just buy them things randomly. Holidays give me the opportunity to gift without guilt. My only issue is waiting. I hate waiting. When I have a clever present I want to give it right away!

That's how I felt when I saw this necktie from Babeland. OMG, so pretty. Not only is it a sexy tie, but it becomes a freakin' leash. It is totally catering to my dandy fantasies. Though of course I've ruined it by posting about it on this blog, so the boy will see it and it won't be a surprise. See? I'm terrible at that part.

But also, I found something that really works for me, too. The Octopussy dildo. It's not only totally gorgeous, but from the reviews I've read it's really, really nice as a sex toy. So take note, readers. But I only really need one, so please discuss among yourselves who's going to get it for me. ;)

Oh, Xmas. And it's not even Thanksgiving yet!

So according to Chris over at Literate Perversions, this week is White Ribbon Against Pornography week! Or, is it? I was looking into this, and some places suggest you act on this Oct 25-Nov 1st, others recommend in February or March. Whatever- at some point during the year, it’s time to be anti porn. Because all pornography warps our fragile little minds. I’m amused that they can’t decide when the week is.

I think porn is awesome, when done right. I supported Kink.com when they had their court case about their move to the Armory, even though I disagree with some of their current body fascism and their narrow viewpoint on what counts as the face of female dominance. I've found them to be incredibly respectful of their models, and I've witnessed a couple scenes, though the kink.com folks are not always the best at scheduling them sensibly- I overheard two girls chatting about how they were given scenes that would bruise them days before scenes where they needed to be markless. I'd work with Kink.com happily if they'd have me- but, they never will, cause I'm not skinny. Ah well. :)

One company I do hope to work for is Pink and White, a local queer company- fingers crossed I'll be able to in January! I'm also definitely looking into NoFauxxx, Cyberdyke and Padded Kink. I bet the boy will be distracted for weeks by Padded Kink, actually, hehe!

Why do I want to work in porn so badly? Because I'm a show off. And I like showing off to people who like to watch me doing things *I like*. I think this is where queer porn is doing endlessly better than other porn. I've found in filling out model releases that queer porn is open to you saying who you want to work with, what sort of people you like, and what sort of scenes. You're collaborating. You're not just a body filling a role... or a hole. That's what porn CAN be, and that's, in my opinion, what it SHOULD be.

So, in honor of White Ribbons Against Pornography, please feel free to include white ribbons in whatever messed up pervy stuff you get up to. I recommend corset piercings with white ribbons, or maybe some CBT. And, of course, take photos. ;)

So when I saw this toy for review at Good Vibrations I couldn't resist- it looked so creepy and weird and hey, it's Halloween and it's waterproof. And it came in a little coffin! So sweet.

Generally I'm not a huge bullet vibe fan. I'm a Hitachi girl, for sure- I need pretty intense vibration to make it worth my while. Granted, I'm pretty glad I can cum from clitoral stimulation at all- before I got my hood pierced, I was way too sensitive for any kind of physical touch around my clit! After I removed the piercing, I suddenly discovered I could have different types of orgasms, glory hallelujah! But it was only the more intense vibrators that worked on me. In spite of that, I still wanted to give Death by Orgasm's Scorpion a try, especially on Halloween.

Taking it out of the coffin seriously creeped me OUT! It's a jelly sleeve over the vibe, so all the little legs wriggle at you. I'm not terrified of bugs, but if you were, this would either be the best edgeplay toy ever or would make you run screaming. It's pretty easy to take the vibe out of the sleeve for changing batteries, which is good.

The thing I really liked about this vibe was every appendage- the tail, the legs, the claws- vibrates too and it's slightly ticklish along with providing a really unique sensation. I found it to be a really nice foreplay vibe, and can imagine it'd be a lot of fun to tease nipples with, especially in a dark room...

Additionally awesome? Multiple speeds and settings! Little watch battery vibes aren't normally this powerful and advanced, but this one was fantastic for variety. Some of the settings would be ideal for that bug-on-your-skin feel. Eeeeeeee!

It's a bit of a specialized item, perhaps, but as a sadist who loves mindfuck, I think the Scorpion vibe is well worth it. Get one quick, cause they might just scuttle away post Halloween!

Also, put it to a vote- would y'all be more interested in these toys if you saw photos of me giving them a go..? ;)

And speaking of voting- November 2nd! Get out and vote! And while you're at it, check this out for freebies:

With the end of October, and therefore Breast Cancer Awareness month, fast approaching, I’ve been thinking long and hard about breast cancer. Not about the disease, specifically, but rather the phenomenon of breast cancer awareness, which, every October, sees every product from makeup to yogurt, running shoes to Barbie pinkified (well, in Barbie’s case, made pinker) and beribboned to encourage people to jump through hoops to donate pennies to breast cancer research. Yes, breast cancer is terrible, and yes, it touches so many women. Yet I find myself recoiling from the commercialization of a disease, especially when so little money actually goes to the research itself.

First, I want to draw attention to the other three cancers in the top four affecting women- lung, colon, and gynecologic. And I want to ask a question- do you know what the ribbon colors are for those cancers? Wild guess, but I’m imagining you don’t. Colon cancer is blue, for example, and its month is March. I had to look that up. January is cervical, uteral and ovarian cancer awareness month and the color is teal. Lung cancer is pearl (pearl??) and isn’t listed on most ribbon awareness sites, despite being the second most common cancer for women and the highest killer- November is the month for awareness, and yet I will bet $10 you won’t see pearl ribboned bottled water in the grocery store. Ignoring for a moment that heart disease is by far more risky for women’s health, why is it that breast cancer is so prominent when lung cancer actively kills more women?

My friend Laurie Penny, over at the New Statesman, says it best, I think. “Buy these pink pants and you, too, can stand up to cancer — sexy, flirty, naughty cancer, she says, continuing, “many breast cancer patients and survivors and family members of sufferers have begun to take a stand against demeaning campaigns what seem to infer that breast cancer is serious not because it kills women, but because it threatens our uninterrupted enjoyment of lovely, bouncy, sexy boobies." And it’s pretty hard to argue with that when campaigns like “Save the Tatas" and “I love boobies" are considered hip and fun while using childish words to “promote awareness". Never mind the fact that checking your breasts for breast cancer has led to an apparently acceptable objectifying male response, like the frankly rather creepy “Check Your Breasts (or I will)" or “Don’t let breast cancer steal second base" tee shirts. Or maybe this is just another thing where I don’t get the joke.

But this leads to another area of concern for me around this process known as pinkwashing. It completely ignores men who have breast cancer, which, if the intent is to promote cancer awareness, seems backwards. As pink is a “girl color and many of the products are marketed towards women, along with women being the exclusive face of breast cancer awareness, it makes breast cancer a female issue (well, unless you want to be the guy that goes around grabbing breasts and saying “no, it’s cool, I’m checking for breast cancer! Hnar hnar.") Shouldn’t we be telling men that they should be checking for lumps on themselves, too? Or would that not be as sexy, somehow?

And then, never mind the fact that some of the products proudly waving the pink flag actually have been known to increase the risk of cancer. Makeup companies are at the top of the list- Estee Lauder, for example, uses carcinogens and other harmful chemicals in their makeup, as do Avon and Revlon. All three have pink ribbon campaigns. Or alcohol, which can raise your risk of cancer- possibly more significantly than you realize. And yet companies like Mike’s Hard Lemonade and Chambord both have pink ribbon campaigns- and, more to the point, have relationships with people like the Breast Cancer Network of Strength. Seems a bit off to me.

What really, really pisses me off though is that the Komen Foundation seem to have lost their minds (and an idea of what charity means). They’ve decided that the color pink and the phrase “for the cure" BELONGS TO THEM, and are bullying other charities for using either, especially together. Why? Because brand confusion can cost them donations. Wait a second- when did breast cancer become corrupted into a brand? And why would anyone pit charities against each other over a phrase or a color? And finally- is this really a responsible use of the money you’re raising to fight breast cancer?

And finally, the last little bit of annoyance comes about because, let’s face it, breast cancer is seen as a sinless cancer. I’m just throwing out my own prejudices here, granted, but I highly suspect the reason lung cancer and, say, cervical cancer don’t get much time in the spotlight is because the belief is those are avoidable cancers. My grandmother told me the story of how a friend of hers struggled to get donations and assistance when she suffered from lung cancer because people assumed she must have been a smoker, or lived with someone who was. In fact, she was a schoolteacher in the suburbs and had never touched a cigarette in her life- but any time she told someone she had lung cancer, the person would always ask, knowingly, “ah, did you used to be a smoker? Like it was her fault.

Or let’s look at cervical cancer for a second. Now cervical cancer is close to my heart, personally, because I had precancerous cells scraped off my cervix more than once. And yet I consistently tested negative for any sort of HPV, the most common cause of cervical cancer. I discovered that quitting hormonal birth control stopped my abnormal pap smears entirely- whether that’s linked or not, I don’t know, but I get tested every 3 months and so far so good. But I only ever saw posters advising my to get a pap smear to see if I was at risk when I was already in the clinic getting tested. I certainly never saw a teal ribbon or a tee shirt making cervical cancer sexy. Now, HPV affects about 80% of the population, and use of condoms doesn’t prevent infection. That seems like a crisis in the making to me. And yet it is so hard to get tested for HPV, even though 10% of those with it will develop cervical cancer.

I hypothesize these two examples are what I’d call “sin cancers". While breast cancer is affected by what you ingest, there’s no activity you can engage in that specifically is linked to the cancer. Lung cancer is linked to smoking. Cervical cancer is linked to having sex. Therefore, these are cancers you may get only if you’ve been “bad", and therefore, socially, you are considered suspiciously and potentially at fault. This is ridiculous, granted, but I do find it interesting that some cancers seem to be more “innocent than others". and more deserving of awareness campaigns and support, despite the fact that if that holds true, “sin cancers" are preventable from the start, and therefore in dire need of these kinds of campaigns.

I find the whole thing really frustrating and distracting from the real point of awareness. Not consumerism. Not brand identity. But making people more aware of their own health and helping them to engage in prevention before the fact. To help women with breast cancer, I’m going to do my research and put my money where it matters- straight into the hands of people who will use 100% towards the cause.

In the meantime, I think I’ll check my boyfriend’s breasts for cancer next time we do some nipple play. And maybe I should warn the Komen Foundation what a light pink hanky means, just in case they really do think they have a monopoly on the color pink. After all, it’s hot pink that’s for tit torture.

I saw there was a needleplay demo discussing needles and scenes going on at local dungeon the Citadel. One of the presenters, Bad Mouse M, had pierced me last Christmas, as you can see from the picture, post holiday feast at Wicked Grounds. WG is our local kinky coffeeshop, and I love it in there, it's super cozy. One of the owners is British, too, so made sure all the classic wintery delights I had grown a taste for were there, making it feel like a perfect Christmas. Add some reindeer antlers and some ribboned needles, and I was the happiest girl! The needles are still in their sharps container in the bathroom at the cafe. ::giggle::

I'm not sure where my desire to be the boy's little girl came from. It definitely sideswiped me. I had defended adult babies against judgmental sex workers online before, but didn't feel any connection to them- I always said I got to act like a kid often, in the Bay Area's whirl of costumes and parties, so why wear a romper suit? And as for the other side, as I said then, "I have the mothering instinct of something that eats its young." So I saw it around, but ignored it as not my bag.

When I met the boy and he came out about it, I worried it was going to hurt our relationship, especially if I couldn't get into the parent role. After all, he was the one into ageplay- I even encouraged him to blog about it as a way to give me a better idea why he enjoyed it. I thought it was kind of weird, to be honest, possibly a little creepy, and definitely super needy in a way I found overwhelming. Sometimes we'd do a scene and I'd feel the maternal thing for a while, but the next day, I just wanted to fuck my boyfriend. The diaper was not only a physical but a psychological cockblock.

Now, we're a Domme/sub couple. I never really mentioned in this blog how we met, even, but we met at a femdom club. I dressed in my red rocketsuit and black corset- he was in a waistcoat and bunny ears, looking rather dandy-ish and dashing. I was intrigued, but slightly withdrawn as he was with a lovely slender woman and I assumed they were together. We spoke later on the ol' Facebook, and he assured me that, while they played together, he was available for a date. I told him about the sex work, and being married but in an open arrangement, and that I was a little off in my kinks, and he asked me on a date anyway.

We met on a Thursday, went on our first date on a Sunday, and have been together ever since. When we snuggled into each other in Casa Blue and had our first, hummus-smeared kiss, I just knew. I think he did too. And in the weeks that followed, we discussed our kinks and interests, we negotiated, we began to figure out how we worked, as a couple. It wasn't always easy, mind- like I said, the AB thing weirded me out for a long time, and we've had quite a few fights about nonmonogamy. My experience vs his inexperience also gave us some trouble. But we've stuck through it, compromised, and figured shit out.

Why do I mention all this? Well, because with the ageplay, I just assumed I'd have to be the caregiver. It never occurred to me that maybe I could be the little girl. I mean, I'm the Domme, right? He's the submissive. We've switched before but he's not particularly scary, so while I submit because I love to please him, there's not really the fear element I like in Dom/sub play.

But then we realized. He'd be a great Daddy.

We had been experimenting with service submission as a way to even the playing field, energy-expending-wise. That went pretty well- I loved coming home from work to canapés and cava, while he made me dinner. And I always joked that he'd be a better parent than me. Why not have me put on the footie pajamas and suck on the pacifier? I'm a stress case, and I need time outs where I can let go and not be an adult. And the time we really started getting into it was when we were apart. He's been reading me erotic fairy tales almost every night for weeks. And I love feeling myself fall asleep to the sound of his voice. It makes it easier, the missing him.

So, while I'm enjoying exploring my queer Mummy side, I'm also finding myself needing the relaxation of being the little girl myself. It fulfills some sort of deep emotional need in me- the stories, the head petting, the snuggling. I'm no diaper fetishist, but I even kind of enjoyed the care he took in changing one. At the same time, it's interesting how intimate it is for me- at the ageplay party, the first one, I felt wildly uncomfortable and didn't want to talk to any of the other "littles". But with the boy, I feel like I can really dive into it and be vulnerable on a level I generally find very difficult. So I guess it's a trust thing for me, and a moment to let go of feeling like I have to be in charge.

So, I think I get it. And I've noticed that when I kinda acted as a caregiver to a friend of mine this last weekend, she's someone I care about and admire, who is feisty and takes care of herself most of the time. I think that I got why she wanted to just be a pretty ballerina little girl for a day, and I felt glad I could help provide that. I feel pretty sure on one level I resented the boy, who wasn't working, didn't have rent to pay, didn't cook for himself or even do his own laundry, so the idea of taking time away from our sex to baby him further pissed me off. Now that he's matured drastically, and especially now that he's taking on a more caregiver role himself, I feel better about doing it back to him.

It's funny. Months ago, I thought the ageplay thing was really really off. I'm still not convinced that it's not a way of working out emotional issues, to be honest. But now that I'm giving it a go... I get it. It's kind of fun. So bring on the Bambinos and the romper suits!

A friend of mine just posted about how, when you get to your mid-twenties or so, parents feel carte blanche to talk about or joke about their sexual proclivities, and how it's TMI and usually super uncomfortable.

To each their own, certainly, but I must say that I am glad and thankful each and every day that my family is open to discussing sexuality, sometimes bluntly, sometimes with humour, but always with the intention of seeking or giving advice. We do have a TMI rule- any conversation can be ended or hijacked via the cry "TMI!" so if it gets uncomfortable we can stop. Still, we've always been pretty open, and I appreciate it.

I was brought up not feeling awkward about nudity, which is a good start. I was aware that when outside the house you had to be dressed, and that in the house making the effort of a robe was a good idea, but if something flashed it wasn't humiliating. Often we peed with the doors open to the bathroom. I remember coming into the bathroom while my mum was bathing terrified that at the advanced age of 11 or 12 I had breast cancer, because I felt little lumps- my mum reassured me my breasts were just developing and it was normal. I didn't worry about my top being off or her being naked in the bath. It's just skin, anyway. But then, I was brought up Pagan.

Additionally I read lots about puberty- not just girls, but boys, too. I recall being the best informed kid in school, and other kids asking me in hushed tones about wet dreams or physical changes. I mean, there was still definitely the occasional freakout, like the one above, but in general I felt pretty on top of my period and growing breasts and pubic hair.

So that's nudity and puberty, but what about sex? My parents knew I would sneak off with their sexuality related books- Nancy Friday's Women on Top fascinated the young me, along with reassuring me that all sorts of fetishes were normal. I read trashy romances for the sex, along with the Joy of Sex and the Good Vibrations catalog. I dimly recall the video "Sluts and Goddesses" being on the shelf, and I knew where dad kept the condoms. And I also remember having the Kid's First Book About Sex, which made enough of an impression on me that I still remember the artwork.

That was growing up. I wasn't terribly worried coming out to my parents that they'd disown me or anything- I felt pretty sure they'd roll their eyes and shrug and say "of course you are". I discovered this in practice when I came out in various ways between 14 and 18. The one thing I worried about coming out to them as was as a sex worker, and we had some really awesome heart to hearts about it that made me realize how lucky I am. I don't have to hide anything important.

Granted, we don't go into details about our sex lives, either. My parents can and do occasionally read my blog, but they know it has graphic content. Does that creep me out? God no. I love that my parents have given me advice on questions and struggles I've posted about! Sometimes their advice has been exactly what I needed to move forward, or to communicate better with the boy. Granted, it's one-sided- they don't ask me for advice, though once in a while something with jokingly slip about what they get up to. I don't mind. Sex is healthy and pleasurable and I would never wish a sexless marriage on anyone, including and especially my family. Frankly I'm more offended with the non-consensual airing of celebrities private interests. I don't give a flying fuck who in Hollywood is into S/m or is bisexual or sleeps around, unless they're working to raise awareness and acceptance of whatever it is they do. If it comes out, and there's no activism involved, I'm so not interested.

And  this openness has now spread to my grandmother. We had dinner the other day and had a really frank discussion about sexuality and relationships that blew me away, as she and I have NEVER talked that candidly about sexuality. Normally she just sniffs that she's not interested in "that sort of thing" or laughs it off as "you crazy kids". It was really cool to talk to her about her experiences.

I guess I'm lucky. I don't see my parents or my grandmother having sexy naked time in my head when they talk about it. I'm honestly not creeped out. I know that my friends are generally more weirded out by the honesty around sex between my parents and I than I am. But almost every time, the first reaction is "OMG! I could never talk to my family about that!" and the second is a wistful "but I wish I could". "I wish I could say 'this is my other lover' and have that be ok", "I wish I didn't have to hide that she's collared me more than married me", "I wish I didn't have to hide that I'm a bisexual male".

I think it depends on if you see things like nonmonogamy or kink as purely sexual or as a sexual orientation like being queer- maybe if you see it as a sexual orientation you wish you could be open, but if you see it as purely sexual you'd rather keep it to yourself? I don't know. I've never had to think about it because it never mattered. I could always cry to my mum about the struggle around being a feminist submissive, or issues between lovers. I am thankful for that.

Again- it's totally an individual thing. I expect that how you grew up, and where, and when has a lot to do with it. What your parents are like also has a lot to do with it. And every experience is totally ok! I'm just saying that I'm really happy for mine. I don't think I would've turned out so well if I had felt shamed about sexuality at home.

There's only one statement in the article I had an issue with:


"When people get past the age of 50 and they're still fucking, they want people to know that so talking about it is like showing off."


Actually, I fully endorse this. We are a terribly ageist society, and it is horribly sexist that while Hugh Hefner is expected to have a sex life women almost universally expect that sex ends with menopause. There's no good drugs out there to address the decrease in female sexual desire when your hormones stop pumping. There's very few books discussing the sexuality of people over 50. There's rarely romance or sexual desire in people over 50 demonstrated in films or TV shows. I think that's really sad.


I'll tell you all right now, I do NOT plan to stop having sex or talking about it when I turn 50. Nope. And I hope beyond hope I can balance disclosure with tact when/if I have kids someday, so they feel just as safe talking to me as I did with my parents.

As the boy used to be vegan, and friends and sweeties of mine similarly prefer vegan, latex-safe, silicone safe, glycerin free stuff, I find myself looking for new lubes that fit the bill. Sometimes I prefer a more liquid one, sometimes I want something a bit thicker, particularly for anal play.

Well, I got to try out a new lube to me- Good Clean Love, which is vegan, thicker, and contains no petrochemicals, no parabens, and no glycerin.

It's clear, and mine had a nice light scent to it- lavender rose. It says that one is lightly flavoured- I can't say I tasted it myself, but I also appreciated that it didn't smell bad or taste awful. I also really liked the thickness of the lubricant- I used it for masturbating with my hitachi, but I think it would be equally pleasurable for anal play, and it's nice having a lube you can use for both!

It's a good lube to try with people who have sensitivities as most potential irritants/allergens are absent in it.

Only complaint? I wish it came in a pump bottle. That's probably the only fault I found with Good Clean Love- it comes in a flit top bottle, which means lube-y hands trying to open it mid-play, potentially. Otherwise I think it's a great lubricant- and water based, so if it gets sticky, just spit on it. ;)

Feel it for yourself at Good Vibrations!

I can't really say there was a time relating to my sexuality that I was closeted. As I grew up, and expanded my interests, I felt pretty comfortable telling my friends and family where I was going- I came out as bisexual, then as kinky, then as poly, then as queer. I'm very lucky in that way. Even when I was in school, where being queer wasn't ok, I made it through without too much hassle. While I basically live my life under a stage name, I do so because it keeps my legal name and persona online and even with all the crazy stuff I run and do separate. I don't get much hassle in the day to day, but you never know about legal stuff!

Coming Out Day makes me think about how it's a day to commemorate sharing these intimate but incredibly important realities. It's to show support, to say "you aren't alone". And it's about taking the risk yourself, to put yourself out there without knowing what the result will be. So, while I'm not quiet about being a queer, nonmonogamous kinky femme, there's some things I have kept quiet that I'm going to share now.

-I was diagnosed with bipolar from a very early age, and was medicated for it soon after. I was definitely depressed, suicidal, and a chronic cutter. When asked why I was so miserable, I doubt I could've ever answered. My parents were ok, I was smart, I was often a bit lonely but kept busy. I just felt trapped, everything was overwhelming and I really didn't think I was able to handle it. I spent 6 years in and out of emergency rooms and residential living programs and witnessed things no one should have to. This is the experience that led to my distrust of "the system", made me incredibly and unfortunately aware of male privilege, and hate the way the US handles health, especially mental health. It also led me to get interested in psychology, which eventually led me into a sex work. I no longer take medications and found my mood improved drastically when I quit them. I still sometimes feel tempted by a razor when things are hard, but I haven't cut for 6 years.

-I had chlamydia once. I knew I was at risk and so went to the hospital, got tested, found out and got it cured within a week. That's why I'm so paranoid about getting tested. But, also, why I am so frustrated at the silence people keep if they have an STI- having caught an STI does not make you dirty or a bad person, even though the nurses at these hospitals may try to make you feel guilty.You can have hot safer sex, and you should be having it anyway because you never know. Once you've had one STI you are slightly more likely to be at risk for others. It's not something I've ever been out about, and I didn't think it was a big deal, until I realized that there are people who have HPV or herpes and they feel equally ostracized for it.

-The chlamydia was related to a sexual assault when I was 18 or so, a fourth date with a "dominant" guy, my first experience with "consenting to some sex acts doesn't mean all sex acts". It was a pretty horrific experience, made worse because I was his "submissive" and did everything I promised myself I would never do- lied to my friends about where I was because I didn't think they'd understand, I blamed my assault on not being a good submissive for my Dom, and if I had been maybe he wouldn't have done it, I didn't report it, I didn't fight. I froze. Later I felt like I did everything wrong. It took a lot of time and healing before I could even be present for sexual touch- in many ways I'm sure it's why my entrance into the sex work I wanted to do was through erotic massage and Domming. I feel much more comfortable with sex and boundaries now, but it's been something I've kept close.

None of these things are something I'm embarrassed about, but being a sex worker, if you have something like that in your past it automatically becomes why you're kinky, or queer, or nonmonogamous, or a sex worker, or whatever. Which is frustrating. I'm pretty conscious, and I feel pretty confident that I would've become a sex worker regardless- I was always passionate about my sexuality. But there is this attitude that, I feel, forces silence- how can you be a sex positive sex worker when you have "a history"? In order to be a sex worker, or a queer, or kinky, or slutty, you must've been damaged in some way. At least that's what many people seem to believe. I don't think it's that simple.

Well, I have a history. I am like many other women- I have baggage, some self-created, some forced on me. I enjoy my sexuality most of the time, and sometimes I get flashbacks and need to be grounded. I've been slutty to improve my self esteem, and I've been celibate because I couldn't handle being touched or emotionally vulnerable. And I'm done feeling like I need to justify that, or be ashamed.

I'm coming out.