When I was younger, I knew deep down that I was very kinky. In the moments when I was experimenting with self-bondage and tying myself up with whatever I could get my hands on, there was no way I couldn't know that my desires would lead me down a path where I would end up far away from the narrow gate. Even though this was something I knew about myself, it didn't mean I could actualize these tendencies as much as I wanted to due to me being in social settings which were rife with sexual conservatism. As brazenly unapologetic as I am now about my deviant disposition, I was a bit of a late bloomer when it came to manifesting my non-vanilla desires with anyone else.
Shortly after I turned twenty, a spark was ignited in me to share my most decadent cravings with other people. Oddly enough, an instance of kink shaming in popular culture lit a fire in me to unleash my sluttiest ways. Nine years ago, in the Fall of 2008, I was watching an episode of The Tyra Banks show. Prior episodes had served as a mindless escape from the contentious 2008 presidential election coverage. But the topic of the show that aired on an early October afternoon was particularly sensational. For "Soccer Moms, Weekend Strippers" Tyra invited women who were sex workers and mothers onto her talk show. The guest who stood out to me the most was a stunning Black Dominatrix. She talked about balancing her professional and personal life and behind the scenes aspects such as her kinky wardrobe and gear were revealed. While I was in awe and inspired by her truths, Tyra was clearly disgusted. An opportunity for a star with household name recognition to use her nationally syndicated media platform to portray marginalized women in a holistic way was spoiled. Instead, Tyra vilified her guests with her repressive moralistic views.
At this point on my journey, it's clear to me that there are enough similarities between the fashion industry and the adult entertainment industry and that the veil between what is considered high fashion and pornographic is very thin. When I hear fashionistas yapping on about the hyper sexualization or high pressure body image standards sex workers face, I suck my teeth and roll my eyes. Not because these issues aren't real and worthy of addressing. But because hypocrisy always irked my spirit. If the beneficiaries of fame and fortune gained from strutting down runways with mostly rail thin colleagues and appearing on excessively airbrushed magazine covers can't critically examine the line of work that sustains them, they ought not cast stones.
However, back then, coming to the realization that my favorite top model turned daytime TV diva was a slut shaming whorephobe was devastating. Even though I didn't have all the language to put to words what anti sex worker antagonism was, the intense disdain Tyra projected onto her guests ached my heart. At the same time, I was experiencing an awakening. It turned out that contrived sex scare tactics had an opposite effect on me than the intended purpose of how professional fetish work was framed on the show. On many occasions, I would steal moments to consume strange porn in the wee hours of the night. But I couldn't remember too many instances where dominance, submission, and fetishes were presented in an out in the open way, in the middle of the day on a mainstream outlet. Within weeks, I was voraciously seeking out as many BDSM resources as I could.
Stay tuned for part 2 in the upcoming days. While you wait, here's some juicy eye candy...